slept in a different hotel in a different part of the city.
On the afternoon of the fifth day, Jane was reasonably sure that the man she was after was Blond Napoleon. His name was Alan Turner, and he had the office on the southeast corner of the fifth floor. This afforded him the best view of the city and made people walk a long way to get to him, past secretaries and intermediaries. The car he drove, a dark blue BMW 7401, cost about sixty thousand dollars. It was not the most expensive, but like only four others in the lot, it had a license plate holder from Green Import Auto, a leasing company in Beverly Hills. To Jane this meant that he was one of only five people who were entitled to company cars.
Whoever had been robbing Timmy would have needed to be high enough in the hierarchy seven years ago to make decisions about the Phillips trust's portfolio without much fear of second-guessing. He would also need to remain in that position long enough to see the cover-up through to the end. Of the five people who drove company cars and occupied the right sort of offices in the building, two had joined the firm within the past four years. Of the others, one was a tax attorney and another the head of the Property Management Division. There was nothing in either man's resume to suggest that he had ever served in another capacity or had the background to handle a trust fund. The only one who had been with the company long enough and who had a specialty that sounded promising was Alan Turner, head of the Investment and Financial Planning Division.
Jane decided to test-drive a car from Green Import Auto. She selected a gray Mercedes with a telephone in it and drove directly to the side street below the southeast corner of the Hoffen-Bayne building. She waited until three o'clock, when even the important people were back from lunch meetings and the sun was on the west side of the building so that Turner's blinds would be open. She turned the corner off Wilshire and cruised toward the building, dialed the number of Mr. Hanlon, the salesman, and set the receiver in the cradle so she could use the speaker and keep her hands free.
'Hanlon.' he said. She knew he was at his desk on the other side of the building.
'This is Marcy Hungerford. We spoke a few days ago, and you sent me some material.' She pulled over and parked on the quiet, tree-lined street.
'Yes. Did you have a chance to look it over?'
'I did, and I think yours is one of the firms I should talk to.' She wanted to make it clear there was no commitment. She was not in the bag yet.
'Good,' he said. 'I've been thinking about what you've told me, and I think I'd like to get you together with one of our partners for a talk.' Salesmen didn't make decisions like that; partners did. He had told his boss about her call. 'Are you back in Del Mar?'
'No,' she said. 'I won't be back for another week. I just thought I should tell you I got your information and am still considering it.'
Hanlon went on cheerfully as though he hadn't heard her. 'The man I'd like you to meet is very experienced. He's been with the company for twelve years, and he's knowledgeable about all aspects of personal management.'
Jane listened carefully. While she had been investigating them, they had been investigating Marcy Hungerford. The name had rung some bell or other. She had chosen well, but from here on she had to be cautious. They knew more about Marcy Hungerford than she did. She decided to stop flirting. It would do her no good to convince people Marcy Hungerford was an idiot. 'Fine,' she said. 'I'll be happy to drive up there and meet him as soon as I'm back in California. Can you connect me with whoever keeps his calendar?'
'Let me see if he's free to talk to you himself right now. I know he'd like to if he can.'
'Even better.'
She heard a cascade of annoying music pour out of the speaker, and watched the man in the corner window. She saw him pick up the receiver. He talked to Hanlon for a few seconds, reached across his desk, picked up a file, opened it, and then pushed a button on his telephone.
'Hello, Mrs. Hungerford,' he said. 'My name is Alan Turner.'
'Hello,' she said. She started the car and pulled away from the curb.
'I understand you're considering us to manage your assets.'
'Yes, I am,' she said. She drove up the street away from the building, turned right at the corner, and kept going west. 'I'm considering several companies. I'd like to find someone who will take responsibility for handling things.'
'Well, that's what we're in business to offer,' said Turner. 'We have experts on the staff in every aspect of financial management, and - '
'I know,' she interrupted. 'Mr. Hanlon said the same thing. But let me explain. I want to know who would be the one person coordinating everything. I don't want to have to call thirty people every time I have a question.'
'I understand perfectly. With your approval, I would manage your account myself. I don't do much of that anymore, but I still have a few.'
'That's very kind.'
'Here's what I propose. I'll sit down with you when you return from Palm Beach. We'll take an inventory of your current assets. I'll examine what you have and come back with a hypothetical portfolio that's sufficiently diversified to ensure you a good income. We can arrange to have it continue in perpetuity for your heirs, if you wish.'
Jane had to be sure. 'That sounds like a trust fund.'
'That's what it is,' Turner said. 'In my experience, people who are busy - as I know you are, with your charity work and so on - don't want to waste their lives micromanaging their wealth. Over the years I've helped quite a few of our clients establish trusts, and so far we've done very well for them.'
Now she was sure that they'd had Marcy Hungerford investigated. She had never mentioned charities. 'What do you charge for all this?'
'Our commission is five percent of income,' he said. 'Of course there would be incidental fees from time to time for brokers, front-end loads on certain purchases, and so on, but you're familiar with those and they don't go to Hoffen-Bayne. They might be quite high in the first year while we're developing a group of haphazard assets into a coordinated portfolio, and there will be legal fees if you choose to establish a trust, but the costs taper off as the years go by.'
'That all sounds good,' said Jane. 'What you've said in the last few minutes has done a lot to convince me that you're the one I'm looking for. I'll call you as soon as I'm back home.'
'Wonderful,' he said. 'I look forward to meeting you.'
'Goodbye,' she said, and tapped the button to disconnect, then drove the Mercedes back to the dealer's lot. She looked at a few more models, then let the salesman know that she hadn't found anything she was really comfortable in. She got back into her rented Honda Acura and drove over the pass to the Hilton on the hill above Universal City and took another room. It was a comfortable hotel, and she didn't mind staying there a few days while she did the paperwork. After she was settled and had dinner she left instructions with the concierge to have both the morning and evening editions of the
She strolled around the complex of buildings at the top of the hill and across the parking lots to a row of pay telephones outside the gate of the Universal Studios tour. She reviewed what she was about to do. There was no way anyone could trace to Jane Whitefield a call made from a public telephone at a place that had millions of visitors a year. It was safe. With the three-hour time difference, she would catch him just after he had come home. She felt a little uncomfortable. She had told herself that she was doing it now because she was afraid of waking him up early in the morning, and there was no point in calling while he was out. But she also knew that if he had decided to do something other than come home from work, this would be the time a person might call and find out. She had no choice but to behave the way she would if she were trying to check up on him, and she hated that. She pushed a quarter into the slot and dialed Carey McKinnon's number. The operator came on to tell her how many more quarters were needed, and she dropped them in.
'Hello?' he said. His voice seemed a little thin, as though he were winded.
'Hi, Carey.' she said. 'It's me.'
'Well, hello,' he said. He sounded delighted, and she felt glad. 'Are you back from your trip?' When she noticed he had not yet said 'Jane,' it occurred to her that there might be a reason.
'No, I won't be able to get through this job right away. I just felt like hearing your voice.'
