by Chris Taylor
But it hadn’t worked. She realized it was just as Declan had said. Now that it was out there, her life could never be the same again. The words couldn’t be taken back—and neither could their effect.
It wasn’t Declan’s fault. She’d begged him to tell her. She’d practically forced the words out of his mouth and now she had to live with the consequences. No matter how much she’d wanted to deny it, during the long, lonely hours before dawn, she’d come to accept that what Declan had told her about her uncle made an awful kind of sense.
She’d struggled with a motive for both Stanford and Stoltenberg, but Declan had presented her with one for her uncle that was as old as time.
That he’d set out to ruin a man’s life over a mere rejection seemed extraordinary, but then everything Chloe had learned over the past twenty-four hours had been extraordinary. Her uncle knew Eric, Charlie and Declan and he had a motive. The Minister was the common denominator. What Declan said was true and the reason was blindingly simple.
Declan had no reason to lie.
Until last night, he hadn’t even known that she suspected her uncle was involved. She and she alone had arrived at that conclusion and it had only been after she insisted on knowing about the details of his meeting with her uncle that he’d reluctantly told her about his introduction to the Minister.
If Declan had been using the encounter as a reason to cast suspicion onto her uncle, he would have made her aware of the possibility at the earliest opportunity, long before charges were laid. He wouldn’t have waited until he’d been arrested, charged and dragged before the courts, his life in chaos, before saying something. It was ludicrous to suggest otherwise. In all of the sordid, soiled mess, it was Declan who’d remained the only one untouched by dishonesty and deceit. He, alone, had maintained his integrity and self-respect.
A sudden thought occurred to her and she dashed out of bed and ran down the hall, searching for her briefcase. She found it on the couch. Tugging it open, she riffled through the papers until she found what she was looking for.
She pulled out Declan’s file and opened it. She flipped through the contents with fingers that shook. And then she found them: the images taken from the hard drives of Declan’s work computer and his laptop. They were labelled with the names of each taskforce investigation the images had originated from, none of which Declan had been involved in.
Five different investigations.
Acting on a hunch, she went into the kitchen and took her cell phone off the charger. Scrolling through her contacts, she dialed Gary Julian’s number. Despite the early hour, he picked up.
“Chloe, what can I do for you so early in the morning?”
“I’m sorry, Detective Superintendent, but I really need to talk to you.”
His voice sharpened. “What is it?”
“The images that were downloaded to Declan Munro’s work computer and his personal laptop were from five different investigations. I was wondering if you could tell me who was involved in each of the taskforces?”
“Sure. Tell me the name of the taskforces you’re interested in and I’ll look into it.”
Chloe provided him with the information he required. “I’d appreciate your earliest reply, Detective.”
“Of course. I’ll get straight back to you.”
Chloe ended the call, her heart thumping. If her suspicions were right, this could be the proof she needed. She sat back against her chair and sighed. Now all she had to do was wait…
In less time than she thought possible, Julian was back on the phone. “I’ve checked the staff records against each of those taskforces. There were several agents working them. A couple of those investigations happened quite awhile ago.”
“Were there any agents who worked on all of them?”
There was a moment of silence. Chloe held her breath even as her pulse picked up speed.
“Only one. Federal Agent Stanford.”
* * *
Chloe knocked on the door to Hammond’s office and waited for him to bid her to enter. Her legs were leaden; she was weighted to her very soul. She’d passed Webber on her way to Hammond’s office, but had brushed by her partner with barely a nod of acknowledgement. In ordinary circumstances, she’d have been grateful for his ear, but telling Hammond about her uncle, about everything, was going to be hard enough—she couldn’t bear the thought of having the same conversation twice. Webber would find out soon enough.
“Chloe, come in. What can I do for you?”
She drew in a deep breath and held it until it burned. She stepped inside Hammond’s office and took the seat opposite his desk.
Hammond frowned. “Is everything all right?”
She closed her eyes and bit her lip to hold back the tears that burned behind her eyelids. All through the dark, anxious hours before dawn, she’d managed to hold it together. She’d clung to her shock and to her anger and had forced any weaker emotion away. She hadn’t shed a tear, not a single one.
But here, in the harsh light of day and with the bulk of her anger depleted, she had to not only face the truth, but to put it into words. The thought of doing so now, both exhausted and terrified her.
At her continued silence, Hammond’s frown deepened. “Chloe…?”
“I think my uncle—no, I know my uncle, the Minister for Home Affairs, is responsible for framing Agent Munro.”
Her words tripped over themselves. Hammond stared at her in shock. “S-sorry, can you run that by me again?”
Chloe shook her head, her burst of courage nearly depleted. “You heard me.”
“I may have heard you, but I don’t understand. How…? Why?” He looked as bewildered and shell shocked as she’d felt last night. She drew in another deep breath and blew it out between her lips.
“I told you yesterday afternoon about Stoltenberg and Stanford. At the time, I was aware my uncle knew both of them. Stoltenberg works in the Minister’s Office and Stanford had told me he’d met my uncle on several occasions. My uncle had denied knowing Stanford, so whilst I was curious that Stanford’s story was in conflict with what my uncle had told me, I wasn’t immediately alarmed.” She paused and gathered the remnants of her courage for what was to come.
“What I didn’t know until last night was that my uncle also knew Agent Munro—another connection my uncle had denied.”
“How did you discover the link between the Minister and Munro?”
“I met with Agent Munro last night, at his apartment.” Chloe couldn’t help the blush that stole into her cheeks, even though she had done nothing wrong. She sneaked a look at her boss. His frown had deepened. She hastened to explain.
“I tried to call Agent Munro’s barrister yesterday afternoon, like we talked about, but he’d already left for the day. I decided Agent Munro deserved to know as soon as possible about the developments with his case.
“I phoned him and suggested we meet somewhere, but he advised me he’d had a little too much to drink and wasn’t able to drive. He suggested I meet him at his apartment.” She shrugged and held his gaze.
Hammond nodded, appearing to be satisfied. “What’s Agent Munro’s take on all of this? Does he believe your uncle’s behind it?”
Chloe briefly closed her eyes again and then opened them. “Yes. Once I told him about the Minister’s connection to both Stoltenberg and Stanford, he revealed he’d also encountered my uncle. He gave me reasons to believe that my uncle is the person responsible for framing him.”
Hammond’s gaze sharpened. “Such as?”
Chloe sighed, knowing there was nothing for it but to come completely clean. It had to happen sooner or later, anyway. She dreaded the thought of what would happen when the media got hold of it.
With another deep breath on board, over the course of several long minutes, she recounted the facts as she knew them, including filling him in on her recent discovery about Stanford’s links to all five of the CPU investigations. After she’d finished, she felt drained. The shock on Hammond�
��s face reflected the way she’d felt when she’d first been told. Hammond shook his head.
“You have to talk to Stoltenberg and confirm it was the Minister who asked him to access Munro’s file. It appears Stoltenberg was an innocent pawn in your uncle’s game, but let’s make sure. Bring Stanford in again. It’s obvious he was the one who downloaded the images. We need to put more pressure on him to find out why he did it. The Minister must have fed him the login details and Stanford must have been the one who created the computer trail. He left additional evidence on Munro’s laptop. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Hammond’s expression hardened. “The only other possibility is that Stanford and Stoltenberg are in cahoots and it has nothing to do with your uncle. Despite the evidence that appears to indicate your uncle has a strong motive, it’s possible Stoltenberg accessed the login details off his own bat and provided them to Stanford who then created the computer trail and everything else.”
Chloe looked at him dubiously. “It’s possible of course, but the only problem with that scenario is that neither of those men have a motive. At least, not one that we know about.”
Hammond sighed. “Bring them in and let’s see what we can shake out of them. After that, we’ll regroup.”
* * *
It was late in the afternoon when Chloe eventually made contact with both Charlie and Eric. She’d located Eric easily enough at the Home Affairs Office. Charlie had been harder to find. His superior at the Fraud Squad had told her Charlie was on a rostered day off. Calls to his cell had gone unanswered.
When she’d finally made contact, she’d purposefully arranged the interviews so that both men would pass in the corridor. She wanted Charlie to know she’d spoken to Eric.
She started with Stoltenberg, whose youth surprised her. She expected someone with a little more experience to be working in a prestigious environment such as the Home Affairs Office.
After going through the preliminaries and obtaining his permission to record the interview, she got straight to the point.
“Mr Stoltenberg, do you know an agent by the name of Declan Munro?”
The man nodded. “Yes.”
Chloe’s jaw dropped in shock. Her heart felt like it would thump itself right out of her chest. She did her best to regain her equilibrium and continued.
“When you say you know him, what do you mean?”
Stoltenberg shrugged. “Well, I don’t exactly know him. What I meant to say was that I know of him. I saw him on the television a couple of nights ago. Something about a committal hearing.”
Chloe sucked in a breath, her tension easing. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I see. Approximately three months ago, you attended upon the Human Resources Department of the AFP and requested a number of personnel files. Do you remember doing that?”
Eric fingered his cheap, bright orange tie. It was liberally embellished with purple polka dots that matched his lilac shirt. His thin, manicured hand fluttered nervously, but he eventually replied in a voice that was almost steady.
“Yes, of course. It wasn’t that long ago.”
“Good. Do you remember who you spoke to at HR?”
A frown crinkled the smooth, pale skin of his forehead. “An older lady…Mary Slater, was it? I can’t quite remember. I do recall she was very pleasant and most accommodating.”
Chloe nodded in agreement. “Could it have been perhaps Marcia Slater?”
“Yes, you’re right. It was Marcia, not Mary.”
“Do you remember who asked you to access the files?”
Eric’s gaze fell away. His fingers picked at lint on his dark gabardine suit pants. Chloe held her breath and waited.
“It was the Minister, of course.” The lightness of his tone belied the anger in his eyes. He followed his response with a laugh that somehow seemed forced.
Chloe stared down at her notes and once again tried hard to slow her breathing. Despite what she knew, hearing confirmation directly from Stoltenberg that her uncle had requested the files caused pain deep in her heart.
She refused to pay it heed. She’d devoted her life to discovering the truth and she would see this through to the end, even if everything inside her demanded she turn and run the other way.
“Do you know why the Minister wanted those files?”
“He told me he was applying for extra funding for a program directed at AFP agents who had recently joined the ranks. He gave me a list of agents who had been with us for less than a year. He wanted me to check their employment dates to ensure they corresponded with the ones he’d obtained. What I found curious was that the only details he asked me to make a record of was the page containing the computer login details of Agent Declan Munro.”
Stoltenberg eyeballed her, his eyes alight with challenge. It was almost as if he was daring her to ask the next question. Despite the hammering of her heart, she didn’t disappoint.
“And did you?”
“Of course. I aim to please. I photographed the page with my phone and bluetoothed it to the Minister’s computer, just like he asked.” Eric smiled, but even that didn’t ease the tension around his mouth. Chloe shivered. There was more to this than he was saying.
“How long have you worked for the Minister?”
“Nearly a year.”
“And do you enjoy what you do for him?”
Stoltenberg tugged once again on his tie. A smile turned up his lips. “Of course. The Minister’s an easy man to work for. Whilst he can be…demanding, he’s also incredibly generous. Until recently, it was a pleasure to arrive at work.”
Chloe sat forward. “What happened recently?”
Eric pursed his lips in thought. A moment later, he shook his head. “Let’s just say, working there is not quite so exciting anymore.” He shrugged. “I think I’m bored. It’s time I moved on. I’ve put in for a transfer.”
Chloe’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really? What does the Minister have to say about that?”
Eric shrugged again and averted his gaze. “He doesn’t know.”
Chloe digested the information and then tried another tack. “Do you know an agent by the name of Charlie Stanford?”
Stoltenberg tensed. His cheeks paled. Anger once again sparked in his eyes. “That useless lump of muscle? Why would you want to ask me about him?”
“So you do know him?”
“Of course I know him. It seems like every time I turn around these days, he’s there. With the Minister. It’s been going on for months.”
Chloe couldn’t breathe. Her chest had tightened to suffocating levels. She gasped and dragged in a breath. Stoltenberg frowned at her.
“Are you all right? Should I call someone?”
Chloe shook her head. “No, no. I’m fine. It’s…nothing. Don’t worry about it. You were saying how you know Agent Stanford; that he’s always underfoot. I’m curious, what does he do for the Minister?”
Eric’s lips curled up in disgust and the anger in his gaze flared brighter. “Nothing, as far as I can tell, but it doesn’t stop him from dropping by every other day, disturbing the Minister.”
Chloe stared hard at him. It was obvious there was no love lost between Stanford and the clerk. She glanced at her watch. If Charlie was on time, he should be waiting for her right outside the door. She gathered the papers together on the desk.
“Thank you for coming in, Mr Stoltenberg. I really appreciate your time. If there’s anything else you’d like to add or anything you remember later, please feel free to give me a call.” Chloe handed him her card that listed her direct line.
Eric pocketed it without glancing at it and pushed back his chair. Chloe stood with him and opened the door. Stoltenberg brushed past her, then froze.
Charlie lounged against the wall outside the interview room. Dressed in a pair of designer jeans and a Nautica polo shirt, he eyed Eric’s colorful ensemble with barely disguised disdain.
Eric flushed under the other man’s scrutiny. Fury glittered
in the clerk’s eyes. Chloe eyed the silent exchange with interest. Moments later, all hell broke loose.
“You fucking prick!” Stoltenberg shouted. “You bastard! How dare you! How dare you!” The clerk launched himself at Charlie who outweighed the younger man by more than a hundred pounds. Eric bounced off the hard wall of muscle and hit the adjacent wall. Tears streamed down his face, but he paid them no heed.
“You couldn’t help yourself, could you? You had to do it!”
Charlie took a step toward Eric who cowered against the wall. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Charlie poked the other man in the chest and Eric whimpered.
“For Christ sake, you worthless piece of shit. What are you, a girl?” Charlie turned away, his expression full of disgust.
Regaining her composure, Chloe stepped between them, forcing them apart. “Whoa, gentlemen. Take it easy. What was that all about?”
Eric sniffed and swiped a hand across his eyes. “Ask him. I’ve had enough. I’m through,” he choked and ran toward the elevators.
Chloe’s mind spun.
What the hell had just happened? Any thought that Charlie and Eric were in this together had just been blown out of the water. Not that she’d given the theory any real credence, but it was satisfying to have that question put to bed. Not that the alternative gave her any comfort…
Indicating the open doorway with her hand, she swallowed a sigh and followed Charlie into the interview room. He took a seat and she sat down opposite him.
“Thanks for coming in again, Charlie. I hope I didn’t drag you away from anything important?”
Charlie shook his head. “I’m on a day off. That’s why I missed your call. I was at the gym and didn’t hear my phone.”
Chloe nodded. He looked like someone who spent a lot of time at the gym.
“What’s with you and Eric?”
Charlie’s expression turned belligerent. “I already answered your questions.”
She turned her glare on him, suddenly completely out of patience. It was clear Stanford was in it up to his teeth. There was no other way the trail of evidence could have been left on Declan’s computer. She eyeballed him again. “I have more. Tell me once more about Minister Sabattini.”
