by Rickie Blair
She looked at the door and narrowed her eyes. You think you have what it takes to beat me? You have no idea what you’re up against.
Chapter Ten
Ruby made an espresso to clear her head and sat at the kitchen island with her laptop and the file on Benjamin Levitt. Sipping her coffee with one hand, she opened the folder with the other and stared at Benjamin’s photograph. The man who looked back at her couldn’t possibly be a crook. With his brown suit, ragged haircut, and startled expression, he looked more like a high school math teacher who couldn’t open his desk drawers without worrying about what might jump out. And who spent his weekends scrubbing vulgar comments from the school’s Facebook page. Shaking her head, she put the photo to one side. Stick to the facts, Ruby.
According to his file, Benjamin lived in Jersey City. His emergency contacts were Lucille Murphy, a next-door neighbor, judging from her address, and Harriet Tubman, his sister, who lived in Maryville, Missouri.
Perhaps the sister knew where he was. But first, an Internet search. Ruby typed Benjamin Levitt, Jersey City, into the browser’s search engine and hit return. The screen filled with citations. She added whistleblower, forensic accountant, and news, and hit return again.
This time there were only a handful of mentions and most were five-year-old articles from The Times Courier. The first, ‘Local Accountant Feted For Revealing Fraud Caper At City Hall,’ included a photo of Benjamin shaking the beefy hand of a much taller man in a blue suit, identified in the cutline as the mayor. Benjamin had uncovered some sort of billing fraud and, as a result, a few people had gone to jail and the city had saved millions. Benjamin was touted as ‘an exemplary citizen,’ ‘a talented accountant,’ and a ‘tireless crusader,’ but there were no tidbits about his personal life or any mentions of friends or relatives.
The last article focused on a presentation he had made at a local high school, cautioning the students against common financial frauds. The accompanying photo showed Benjamin pointing to a whiteboard at the front of an obviously bored class. Ruby suppressed a giggle. Hopefully he hadn’t opened any desk drawers while he was there.
She was about to close the article when a quote from Wade Mullins, president of the local chapter of the Association of Certified Fraud Examiners, caught her eye. ‘Benjamin Levitt has spoken often at our conferences and is always highly informative.’
Ruby frowned as she studied the article. Highly informative? What happened to tireless crusader? At least this Wade Mullins seemed to actually know Benjamin. She looked up his contact information and called his office. His secretary put her through.
“I’m not sure I can help you, Miss Delaney,” Mullins said. “I haven’t had much contact with Benjamin lately.”
“I understand, but he appears to be missing and his colleagues are worried about him. My partner, Hari Bhatt, and I are investigating—”
“Hari Bhatt? From Carvon?” He paused. “Oh, you’re that actress who—”
“Yes.”
“—was on—”
“Yes.”
“—and now you’re—”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Wait till I tell my wife. She’s a big fan.”
“Thank you. Benjamin Levitt?”
“I wasn’t lying, I really haven’t had much contact with him lately. He dropped out of sight after that business at CSM.”
“CSM?”
“Capital Street Management. Raymond Fulton’s company?”
“I’m sorry. It rings a bell, but—”
“It’s a big brokerage and private investment firm, which runs a huge fund called Castlebar. Levitt was convinced the Castlebar Fund’s returns were, well, impossible. And he made a lot of noise about it.”
“Which must have upset Mr. Fulton.”
“That’s putting it mildly. I heard he was apoplectic. Don’t repeat that, by the way.”
“Of course not. What happened then?”
“Fulton got sick of the rumors and decided to confront Levitt about it. So he called a bunch of analysts and reporters down to his office and had Levitt come in and tell them what he’d found.”
“Wasn’t that risky?”
“No, it was brilliant. This was a handpicked group, all of whom believed Fulton. Levitt was totally out of his element. I heard it was a bloodbath.”
“You weren’t there?”
“Me? Hardly. I’d only be in a room with guys like that if I was serving the drinks. But the meeting was well documented, believe me. And after Levitt slunk out of there with his tail between his legs, I guess he decided to lay low for a while.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Couple of months.”
After promising to mail Mullins’s wife an autographed photo, Ruby clicked off the phone and sat back, staring at the computer screen. Benjamin hadn’t given up, despite what Mullins thought. He had merely switched his attention from Capital Street Management to Global TradeFair. Had Ben simply been trying to overcome his failure with CSM and move on? Or was there a connection between the two companies?
Maybe his sister would know. Ruby ran a finger down the contacts sheet in Benjamin’s file and dialed the number.
“Mrs. Tubman? I’m calling about your brother.”
“Benjamin?” Harriet asked with a faint midwestern drawl. “Nothing’s wrong, is it?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you. He seems to be missing.”
“Missing?”
“Have you heard from him?”
“Not for weeks.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Not really. Ben’s my half-brother and a lot younger than me and we’re not real close.” She paused, then added, “What do you mean, missing?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Perhaps he’s taken a vacation. Is there anyone he might be staying with?”
“Ben? Oh I don’t think so, dear.”
“Did he ever mention a company called Global TradeFair? Or Capital Street Management?”
“We never talked about his work. Mostly we talked about the old neighborhood and how it’s changed. He kept saying he wanted to move out here, country air and so forth. I didn’t take it seriously. Ben would never leave that old house in Jersey.”
Ruby clicked off the call. Maybe she would have more luck with the neighbor. She checked the contacts sheet for Mrs. Murphy’s number. But before she could enter it, her phone rang. She checked the screen and then pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hi, Natalia. Is something up?”
“Well, there is something … I mean, I hate to ask you…” Natalia’s voice trailed off.
“Ask me what?”
“Could you … pay my fee a little early this month? I’m sorry to ask but—”
“Of course I can, Natalia.” Ruby reached for her handbag. “I’ll write a check right now and drop it off on my way to the theater.”
“Thank you. I seem to be a little short this month. Silly, really. I should pay more attention.”
Ruby put the phone on speaker to pull her wallet from the bag.
“Did you go on a shopping spree? With all those investment checks rolling in, I bet you’re up to your knees in Gucci over there.” She tore off a check, leaned over the counter to grab a pen, and wrote in the date and her signature. Her hand hovered over the amount. “Hey, I was only kidding about Gucci. I know you’re an Oscar de la Renta girl.”
Natalia laughed, but it was a weak parody of her usual full-throated chortle.
Ruby picked up the phone and clicked off the speaker.
“Is something wrong?”
“Of course not.”
“Really? I’m more than happy to pay you early. In fact, I’ll give you next month’s fees, too. But you’ve never asked before. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Everything’s fine, but … remember that investment I told you about?”
Ruby drew a sharp breath. Had something happened to Natalia’s life’s savings?
“
I remember. Is there a problem with it?”
“Not a problem, exactly, but we can’t take any money out, obviously.”
Obviously? Ruby thought. Why obviously?
“You’re still getting those quarterly payments, right?”
“That’s the thing, they’re all being reinvested. They said the fund’s returns would suffer if they had to make the usual payments in cash. They’d have to sell some holdings, and the market was bad, so they’d have to do it at a loss.”
“Natalia, are you telling me you haven’t been getting your quarterly payments? For how long?”
“About a year. But it’s okay,” she added quickly, “the value of my investment is going up and up. I’m just a little short of cash.”
“What if you asked to cash out your entire investment? Could you get your money back?”
“Of course, but I wouldn’t do that. You can’t get back in once you’re out and the fund’s doing so well. It’s the best investment I’ve ever had.”
Ruby bit her lip. It’s a terrific investment, all right. So terrific that you’re broke.
“I’m writing you a check for three months’ fees and I’ll drop it off later today.”
Ruby tucked the phone into her handbag, checked her watch, and closed the TradeFair folder. Time for a visit to Hari. Surely this latest development in Natalia’s case had fraud written all over it. And wasn’t that what they did best, tracking down scummy bastards who defraud little old ladies? She grinned. Better not let Natalia hear her call her a little old lady, or Ruby wouldn’t live long enough to be one.
Chapter Eleven
Someone was knocking. Loudly. Hari wiped the sleep from his eyes, shoved the sheet to one side, and stumbled to his feet. Whoa. He stopped, waited until the room had stopped spinning, and then walked to the door to open it. Ruby stood there, her hand raised to knock again.
Hari walked back to the living room sofa and sat down with his head in his hands.
“What time is it?”
“Eleven.” Ruby closed the door. “What happened to you last night? You said you’d come to the cast party. Are you sick?”
He shook his head, but the room began to whirl and he halted immediately with a groan.
“I’m fine.” Coffee. He needed coffee.
Ruby stared, her mouth slack, and then she snickered.
“You’re hung over. Hari Bhatt, master of moderation, is hung over. This is fabulous. Do I get to scold you for a change?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and winced.
“Please, not so loud.”
She giggled, dropped her purse by the door, and walked into the kitchen.
“You do look awful, though,” she called over her shoulder.
“Thanks.” He stood up and walked gingerly into the hall.
“I’m going to take a shower. Could you…” he pointed at the coffee maker.
“Already on it.”
Hari let hot water stream over his bent head for several minutes before he reached for the soap. When he returned to the kitchen in jeans and bare feet, pulling a T-shirt over his damp hair, Ruby poured a mug of freshly brewed coffee and held it out.
“Cream and sugar?”
He took the mug of black coffee, raised it to his lips and held up a finger. “In a minute.” The hot coffee stung his throat on the way down. He closed his eyes with a sigh. Better. He sat on one of the two barstools at his tiny breakfast counter, cradling the mug in his hand.
“I see why you didn’t make it to Joe Allen’s last night,” Ruby said. “Your bedroom looks like a cyclone hit it.”
Lifting the mug to his lips, Hari looked at her over the rim.
“The cleaning service comes tomorrow.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded thoughtfully. “That’s good, because there’s an empty wine bottle, and two glasses, on the nightstand. And, oh, look, another empty out here.” She pulled a wine bottle from the sink and chortled. “Did someone have company last night?”
Smirking, Hari put his cup on the counter.
“Just because you’re going through a dry spell—”
“Hey. I get offers.”
“I know. I’ve seen those fanboys lined up outside the theater.” He slid off the stool, carefully, and opened the fridge, reaching in for a container of half and half.
“Very funny.” Ruby watched him as she sipped her coffee. “Have you been working out, Hari?”
“No more than usual.” He closed the fridge door.
“Really? You’re looking very buff.”
He glared at her over the rim of his glasses.
“I’m not taking on Natalia’s case, Ruby. If it even is a case, that is.” He stirred cream and sugar into his cup, walked into the living room, and eased into an armchair.
“Who said anything about Natalia?” Ruby sputtered. “But now that you mention it—” She followed him into the living room, gave a meaningful glance to the sheet crumpled on the sofa, and sat down. “There have been developments.”
He nodded, staring into space. Even with his eyes open, he could still see Leta’s blue eyes, her full lips, and feel her hands—
“Hari?”
“Hunh?” He turned to look at her.
A smile tweaked the corners of her mouth.
“This is a strange reaction to getting laid. I would have thought you’d be a bit happier about it.”
“What?”
“Sorry.” She chuckled. “I just meant…” She studied his face. “You like this one, don’t you?”
He shrugged and looked away, sipping his coffee.
“Are you going to see her again?”
“She’s a little angry with me right now.”
“Why?”
“She thinks I was spying on her.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
Shaking his head, Hari drained his coffee and put the mug on the coffee table. No more thinking about last night. He sat up straight.
“So. New developments in Natalia’s case. Against my better judgment, what are they?”
She filled him in on the previous night’s conversation at the restaurant as well as Natalia’s reluctant request for cash.
“The entire cast, as far as I can tell, is invested in this thing and nobody knows what it is. Don’t you think that sounds suspicious?”
“It sounds as if they don’t pay much attention to their investments, which means they’re like ninety-nine percent of the population. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong.”
“What about Natalia? Isn’t it suspicious that she’s not getting any payouts?”
“Not necessarily. It depends on the fund. You said she could withdraw her investment, right?”
Ruby nodded.
“So there you are, then. You’re worrying about nothing. She can take her money out if she’s unhappy.” He reached for his briefcase. “Meanwhile, we need to find Benjamin. Why don’t you take a look through his file—”
“I have.”
“And?”
“I haven’t found anything meaningful so far.”
“Well, keep looking. I’m going to spend the afternoon on TradeFair’s financials.”
“Ford Robinson gave me a business card from his investment contact, the guy who represents this fund that Natalia and the others are in. I’m going to call and see if I can meet with him tomorrow.”
“Call him if you want to, Ruby, but don’t forget that we have a paying case to work on.” Hari opened his laptop and plugged in the TradeFair USB stick. By the time she closed the door, he was deep into the billing records.
* * *
Hours later, after two more coffees and several headache tablets, he still had no idea what, if anything, had happened at TradeFair. The billing records looked fine. Everything was as it should be. There were no stray accounts and no payments to suppliers that weren’t on the company’s approved list. Was this another of Benjamin’s wild goose chases?
Maybe food and fresh air would help. He closed th
e laptop, slid his wallet into the pocket of his jeans, and pulled a hoodie over his head. Outside he turned, by habit, to the right and then decided against it since it would take him past Grimaldi’s, which was bound to trigger flashbacks. He didn’t need any more distractions. Instead he turned left and headed for the small deli three blocks over. As he walked, he mulled over TradeFair’s billing records. He must have missed something.
The clerk behind the deli counter sliced open a baguette.
“Okay, we’ve got a nice clean slate here,” he said. “What would you like on it?”
Hari stared at him. A clean slate. Of course. The reason he couldn’t find anything in TradeFair’s financials was because he didn’t have an accurate copy. It had been cleaned up. And there was only one person who could have done that.
He thought back to his meeting with the Global TradeFair executives the previous day. Gregory Keller had pulled the USB stick out of his briefcase and placed it on the coffee table. It was supposed to be a copy of the company’s books, prepared for Bhatt & Delaney by TradeFair’s accounting department. But what if there had been two USB sticks? And the one that Keller pulled out of his briefcase had been a doctored version that he switched for the real one?
“Sir? What would you like?”
“Um … tuna with ... whatever.”
Hari pulled a ten dollar bill from his pocket, exchanged it for the sandwich, and turned to go. If he was right, he couldn’t request another copy of the books without tipping his hand. And he certainly couldn’t accuse Keller without proof.
There was only one person he could ask if the accounting records were fake without tipping off the embezzler. And that was Benjamin Levitt. But where was he? Hari slid his cellphone from his pocket and clicked on Ruby’s number. The call went through to her voice mail and he left a message.
“Something has come up. We have to find Ben.”
Chapter Twelve
