“That came later, and I’m under an obligation to not discuss it. But I did find out about the drawer, and about what it might have contained.”
“And what do you think it might have contained?” John asked.
“I think caution is still in order,” Charles said. “Instead, I’ll mention Patrick White.”
“I’ve warned you already to not listen to him.”
“I know that he is mistaken about you, John. But someone threatened him and then carried out their threat. Someone.”
“Apparently,” John said.
“I believe it was Derek Bastien.”
“Why?”
“I’ll just say I’ve gotten to know Derek very well since he died. But that is what I think Derek kept in his desk.”
“Evidence against Patrick White?”
“More than just Mr. White. And, John, I think you must have known what he was doing.”
“What makes you think that, Charles?”
“Because you paid a hundred and five thousand dollars to get his desk.”
John Borchard’s face was out of control for a moment with a bewildering array of worries, angers and even bewilderments.
“But how did you know that I did? You’re talking in circles.”
“I guessed. At least two people knew about the drawer, to bid so high for it. Who else would it have been? You, or Karen Liu, or Patrick White. Possibly others. Mr. White didn’t suspect Derek at all, and I don’t believe Karen Liu did either. But Derek worked for you, and his interests in blackmail coincided very closely with yours. It seemed reasonable that you would know what he was doing. And not many people would have been close enough to him to specifically know about the drawer.”
“But you were still guessing.”
“I was guessing. I guessed that someone would get a list of agents from the auction house, which turned out to be true. Was that how you found Jane?”
“That isn’t important.”
“It seemed in character, though. So when I found her, I had a chance to try out my guess. If you hadn’t responded the way you did, I would have tried Karen Liu next. Besides that, your questions about Derek’s books were rather transparent.”
“Yes, his books.” John was back on firmer ground. “My questions were transparent. You could have answered me plainly.”
“Why were you interested in his books?” Charles said.
This time, the expressions progressed through concentration, indecision, calculation, and finally firm resolution. John settled deep into his chair’s padding. The final display of eyebrows, chin and lips was camaraderie and confiding.
“All right, Charles. I see that we need to work cooperatively here. I think we’re working toward the same goal, and we’ll need each other’s help to get there.” He leaned forward for a more intimate discussion. “Yes, I was aware of Derek’s activities, but only slightly. I did see his drawer once and I knew what he had in it. I didn’t ask for specifics. I only knew that he had some leverage over Karen Liu.”
“So, it was unexpected when Patrick White began accusing you of blackmail?”
“Absolutely. I hadn’t known that Derek also had incriminating evidence about him. It didn’t take me long to realize what had happened, though. Derek engineered his downfall and made him think it had been me who did it.”
“And that made it imperative for you to get the rest of his papers,” Charles said.
“Exactly. Absolutely. I had to know what other schemes he had going.”
“Couldn’t you have gone to the police?”
“No. Not until I knew myself what was in the papers.”
“And what was?” Charles asked.
“Too much.” John grimaced. “And not enough. There were files on more people than I would have imagined, but the specific ones I was looking for were missing. Charles, my guess is that you have the papers that I don’t.”
Charles nodded. “I do have some papers.”
“They were in one of the books?”
“Yes.”
“So I was right,” John said. “And that’s how you became involved. Well, Charles, I would like to see them.”
“You should, John. And I’d like to see the papers you have.”
Their solidarity was shaken. John frowned.
“That would worry me,” he said. “The papers concern a number of people. I’m sure they wouldn’t want you to see them.”
“They will never know that I have.”
“It makes me wonder how you will use the information in them.”
“I won’t.”
“Then why even look, Charles? It would be better if you didn’t. You don’t know most of them. They are his colleagues at work and people he knew socially. I have compelling reason to know, because I need to understand what damage has been done, and how it can be repaired. That’s my responsibility as Derek’s superior in the Department. I don’t understand why you need to see them.”
“John, it isn’t that I want to. I also have my own compelling reason, but I can’t tell you what it is.”
John was not pleased. “A compelling reason?”
“I can’t cooperate further until I’ve seen them.”
John Borchard would have been a poor poker player. It was obvious he was going to fold, even as he tried to bluff.
“Tell me what you’re looking for. I can tell you if you’d find it.”
“I don’t know. I have to look for myself.”
“Oh, very well!” For the moment, they were not friends. “I’ll ask you to excuse me for a moment.”
“Of course.” Charles stood to leave. “I’m sorry, John. I really don’t want to see them. But I have to.” He stepped outside.
The brief passage of the hall earlier had been enough to appreciate it. Now he had a much longer opportunity as three minutes passed. It was surprising how poor the Borchards’ taste was; everything was expensive, but nothing was valuable. There was no feel to any of the house. The only consistency to any of the furniture was how soft the seats were, and the severe hardness of everything else.
The door opened.
“Please, come in.”
A stack of folders was on the desk, about two inches high.
“It isn’t as many as it looks,” John said. “Each one is in its own folder. But there are still forty-six in all.”
The folders were unmarked. Charles took the first and set it down off the stack onto the desk’s surface. The wood was dark and heavily grained. He pushed a brass penholder out of the way.
Then he glanced up at a curtained window behind the desk chair.
“Need more light?” John said. “I sometimes do.” He opened the curtains.
Charles looked out into the backyard. The black windows of the house behind them looked directly down and in.
Charles turned back to the folder. It held only a single page: a hotel bill from a Las Vegas resort, with a name and date.
“Nothing illegal,” John Borchard said. “That is my peer, the other Deputy Assistant A.G. for Legislative Affairs. But he wouldn’t want it known that he frequents casinos. He’s quite a straight arrow.”
Charles opened the next folder.
“And that is illegal,” John said.
