There’d been no recent big arrests, but the investigators in the district attorney’s office thought that those who’d been caught were the tiniest tip of a mammoth iceberg, and they were on the hunt for others up to the same tricks, perhaps with new approaches. DDD&W was on their “suspects” list, but so far, they hadn’t charged the firm with anything.
Rob reached his contact, who confirmed that DDD&W remained on the DA’s watch list. He insisted that Rob tell him everything he knew about the company and the nature of his friends’ involvement before he gave Rob permission to tell them anything. Rob told him all he knew about the consulting firm and how Dinah came to be involved with them.
“So your client Dinah Greene is their art consultant?” the ADA asked.
“Yeah, but she only got the assignment Tuesday, and she met the DDD&W art committee for the first time a few weeks ago. She can’t possibly be involved in a long-term sales tax evasion scheme,” Rob said.
“I’m sure you’re right, but can you fax me copies of her contract and her presentation? If her name comes up, I’ll need to be able to prove she’s in the clear.”
Rob smiled. Tactfully put. “Sure. Anything else?”
“Has anyone at DDD&W mentioned other art consultants they’ve employed?”
“Yeah, wait a second…I’ve got the name in my notes. Here it is—their curator told Dinah they’d employed a firm called Great Art Management. Dinah doesn’t know exactly what they did for DDD&W. There’s a lot of weird stuff going on at that place. This is Dinah’s first venture into the corporate world, and she’s had one hell of a baptism,” Rob said.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, that’s right, you couldn’t know yet. It only happened this morning—it seems like weeks ago. There’s been a death at DDD&W. The police think it’s murder.”
“My God! Does it have anything to do with art?”
“Maybe. The head of human resources was killed, but it could have been by mistake. She’s said to have looked just like her sister, Patti Sue Victor, the ‘curator’ I mentioned. Dinah says Victor doesn’t know anything about art, and there’s no art at DDD&W for her to curate, although they used to own a collection of some kind,” Rob said.
“And it was this Patti Sue Victor who mentioned Great Art Management?”
“Yes, do you know of them?”
“I certainly do. I’ll fax you our report on them. They’re up to their ears in sales tax evasion. But we hadn’t heard DDD&W’s name connected to GAM until now.”
“What made you suspect DDD&W?” Rob asked.
“Confidentially? An anonymous letter.”
“That’s interesting. Dinah Greene had an anonymous communication, too,” Rob said, and went on to describe the delivery of the Stubbs photocopies, their disappearance and the potential problems the firm faced if they were sold, lost, or stolen.
“Sounds like there’s at least one bad guy and a ‘Deep Throat’ inside DDD&W. Does Ms. Greene have any idea who her informant is?”
“Not a clue, but if she gets any more anonymous mail, I’ll send you copies. If Dinah still has the note about the Stubbs, I’ll send you that. I hope Deep Throat didn’t suggest Dinah was doing anything illegal?”
“No, not at all. The letter didn’t mention her—just advised us to check up on DDD&W personnel who collect art. If either of you has any ideas about who might be involved in the art tax dodge, let me know right away,” the ADA said.
Rob promised to stay in touch and glanced at the wall clock. He had a little time before he had to leave for Cornelia Street. Whom should he call? Law school, his years as a cop, and even more years as a private investigator specializing in art crime had brought him into contact with a lot of people employed in the pursuit of criminals. He could call on friends in police work all over the US, and in many other countries. But given DDD&W’s major activity—consulting to business organizations—he decided to start with the Securities Exchange Commission. His SEC contact was available, and after a minimum of small talk, Rob asked if his friend had heard anything about DDD&W.
His friend hesitated. Then, “Why do you ask?”
Rob explained, adding, “I think plenty could be going on there, based on the little I know. Dinah has run into some very odd people. I don’t have to tell you that if there’s one illegal activity going on, there are probably more.”
“I can’t comment formally, but your instincts are good. We got interested in the company because of the merger. Davidson & Douglas was a consulting firm, but Danbury & Weeks is an accounting firm. Many of the legal problems in the headlines about accountants in trouble involve firms that are auditing clients for whom they’re also consultants. Auditors have to be independent. If they get consulting fees from the clients they audit, it’s a conflict of interest.”
“Do you think that’s going on at DDD&W?” Rob asked.
“They have the same potential conflicts as other firms we’ve investigated, and some of those firms are now out of business. As you say, if you find one illegal activity at a firm, there’s usually more. Kozlowski’s art sales-tax indictment was the first indication that he might be involved in other crimes. We’re hearing from many informants and investigating every allegation. I’m sure you know we get a lot of our information from whistle-blowers.”
“Are any of your tips anonymous?” Rob asked.
“Yes, why?”
“My client, Dinah Greene, had an anonymous communication from someone at DDD&W, and so did the Manhattan DA’s office. Both tips had substance,” Rob explained.
“That’s interesting. I might be in a position to share some information with you soon. I’ll call you, okay?”
“Absolutely. And if I hear anything solid, or even a good rumor, you’ll be the first to know,” Rob said.
The SEC investigator had been discreet, but Rob was now sure both the SEC and the DA were investigating DDD&W. Rob didn’t know how what he’d learned could help Dinah, but the investigations certainly opened up some possible motives for murder. As he’d told Jonathan, people will kill to hide other crimes. DDD&W could have plenty to cover up.
Sixteen
When Coleman arrived at Cornelia Street, Dinah, in a blue silk caftan that Jonathan had given her to wear for evenings at home, was telling Jonathan and Rob that she couldn’t understand why they were so worried about the police investigation into the death of Frances Johnson.
“So what if I can’t prove I was home all night? They can’t prove I was at DDD&W, because I wasn’t. Isn’t a person innocent until found guilty?” she said.
“Dinah, if we can’t clear this up, you’ll always be under suspicion,” Rob said. “This is murder, and so far, you’re the only suspect. If they don’t find the guilty person, this thing will hang over you for the rest of your life. We have to prove your innocence. That means proving you didn’t leave home after one a.m. when Tom took you home until he picked you up this morning a little before six, or discovering who the killer is. Or both.”
“But I had no reason to hurt that woman, or even Patti Sue,” Dinah insisted.
Coleman sighed. Reasoning with Dinah in a stubborn mood was like trying to teach a billy goat table manners. Luckily, she didn’t have these moods often. Coleman was sure Dinah was terrified and covering her fear with her obstinate denials.
“Yes, Dinah, but you and Patti Sue argued constantly, and she complained about you all over the office. Amy says she was trying to get you fired, or force you to quit. We know you wouldn’t kill anyone, but the cops can make a case that you had a reason to want her out of the way,” Coleman said.
“I didn’t want her out of the way. I don’t plan to be around that place more than another week or so. Why should I care whether she’s there?” Dinah said.
Coleman caught Jonathan’s eye, who, seeing that it was hopeless trying to make Dinah face the situation, changed the subject.
“Do you think Patti Sue was the target?” Jonathan asked. “Or was the killer after t
he Johnson woman?”
“If the killer meant to kill Patti Sue, it almost has to be about art, and an art-related murder wouldn’t surprise me a bit,” Coleman said. “The missing Stubbs and whether the Prince Charles Stuart Museum received everything it was supposed to could be big problems. Maybe Patti Sue has been stealing art from the company and was afraid Dinah would find out?”
Rob nodded. “Yes, those areas have to be investigated. And there’s an art-related sales tax issue.” He summarized the suspicions at the DA’s office, and the role of Great Art Management, following up with the possible investigation by the SEC.
“I don’t know why you’re so sure it’s about art,” Dinah said to Coleman. She turned to Rob. “I’ve heard you say murder is usually about love or money. What about the woman who fought Patti Sue in the restroom? She sounded as if she’d like to kill Patti Sue.”
Rob nodded. “Good point. We need to get that story to the police. Who saw the fight besides you? I’d like to keep you out of it, if I can.”
“I heard it, I didn’t see it, and I didn’t see the woman who intervened, but I’m pretty sure it was Hunt’s secretary, Mrs. Thornton. She’s the only woman I’ve met there who speaks in that ladylike way. But Patti Sue knew the person she was fighting with—ask her,” Dinah said.
“But will Patti Sue talk? And if it was Hunt’s secretary, will she talk?” Coleman said.
“They’d have to be stupid not to cooperate in a murder investigation,” Rob said.
“Oh, Rob, get real. If their bosses tell them they’ll be fired if they talk, they won’t talk,” Coleman snapped. “Back to motive: if the intended victim was Patti Sue, could she have been killed over something to do with the art tax evasion scheme? She might know who was involved, and could testify against people.”
Rob shook his head. “I doubt if anyone would kill over that. If they’re guilty, Great Art Management is in trouble, but the law enforcers rarely go after individuals for that kind of crime unless they want to make an example of them. They’re after the art galleries or art consultants, the jewelers, the furriers. They rarely do more than make the buyers pay the tax they owe, plus interest, and maybe a fine. Anyway, I suspect more serious criminal activities are going on there, and that means there could be other motives for murder.”
“What could be ‘more serious’ than the theft of the Stubbs paintings? We’re talking big money here. Not to mention the income the firm will lose if the paintings are gone,” Coleman said.
Rob shook his head again. “We don’t know that any art has been stolen, or is even missing. Let’s summarize what we do know: the New York County District Attorney’s office is investigating whether some of the DDD&W people are avoiding sales tax on art. We think the SEC is investigating DDD&W for conflict of interest. The Stubbs paintings may be missing, and if they are, as far as we know, their disappearance hasn’t been reported, which could be fraud, since there’s a penalty attached to their disappearance. If the company has sold them, that’s illegal. But we don’t have a lot of facts about any of the art issues,” Rob said.
“How can we assist the investigators?” Jonathan asked.
“I don’t think we can contribute to the government investigations, but they could help us. We could try to persuade them to speed up their activities. They’re moving slowly, and we need answers now. Meanwhile, we can investigate all the people involved to see who needs money badly enough to steal. We can check to see if anyone has a criminal record. We should learn all we can about the art. Most of all, we have to do everything we can to prove Dinah wasn’t at DDD&W at the crucial time,” Rob said.
Jonathan took off his glasses and polished them. He put them on again and said, “I’d guess that the DDD&W people will shove Dinah down the throats of the police, trying for a fast solution that doesn’t involve anyone they employ. But won’t they know we’ll retaliate and expose any illegalities we can uncover at DDD&W?”
“I’m sure they know we could put a spotlight on their criminal activities, but if they can focus the attention of the police, their employees, their clients, and the press on Dinah, they might be able to buy enough time to cover up some of their nefarious doings. That’s why we have to move fast. We’ve got to see that they’re caught before they destroy evidence. Frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t already tried to convict Dinah in the press. That’s probably next,” Rob replied.
“I think so, too. Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll let them destroy Dinah’s reputation,” Jonathan said.
“I feel the same way,” Coleman said. “Let’s decide who’s going to do what. I’ll take care of the art side—check out the Davidson will, work with the museum on what they received, try to get a list of what they were supposed to get, see if there’s a big difference. See what I can find out about the Stubbs paintings. And I’ll work with Debbi on PR, planning what we can do to counter any bad publicity.”
“I’ll help Coleman with the art questions, and acquire the prints needed to complete the project,” Dinah said. “I want to be ready to go to work the minute I can get back in there.”
Jonathan frowned, but Coleman noticed he didn’t comment on Dinah’s plans to finish the job at DDD&W. She was surprised. She’d been sure Jonathan would prevent Dinah from returning to DDD&W. Maybe he planned to discuss it with Dinah privately. Dinah was already upset, and he might want to soften the blow.
“I’ll talk to our lawyers, any friends I think can help with the government investigation, and the Frys. We need the guards’ records—when Dinah came and went, anyone they thought was suspicious,” Jonathan said.
“I’ll take care of everything else,” Rob said, yawning.
Coleman considered him. He looked tired and worried. Well, she was too, but she’d never let Dinah see it, and Rob shouldn’t either.
“Oh, this is making my head ache,” Dinah said. “Let’s eat. We’re having spring specials: green pea soup with fresh mint—my own recipe—pasta primavera and strawberry shortcake.” She smiled, a hostess-y, Martha Stewart-ish smile, as if this were an ordinary dinner with family and friends.
Coleman, exasperated by Dinah’s refusal to admit that her situation was serious, rolled her eyes at Jonathan. They tacitly agreed to put aside the subject of Dinah’s predicament for the rest of the evening. But avoiding discussion of DDD&W, the murder, and the police investigation was a strain, and they broke up early, Rob and Jonathan pleading travel fatigue.
Rob offered to share a taxi uptown with Coleman, and she accepted. She was sure he wouldn’t bother her about their relationship while she was so preoccupied with Dinah’s problems. He didn’t speak until they were nearly at her apartment, then, “I wish Jonathan had come up with more tonight. I thought he’d have a lot of ideas about how he could help,” he said.
“Don’t worry about Jonathan,” Coleman said. “He’ll move heaven and earth to clear Dinah. I wish Dinah would wake up. She’s in a dream world.”
“Surely she’ll come to her senses after Jonathan’s had a chance to talk to her. God, I hope this doesn’t get picked up by the press.”
Coleman nodded, but she was only half-listening. She was still thinking about Dinah’s refusal to face her dangerous situation. Coleman had read books in which a person was convicted of a crime he or she didn’t commit. Surely something that terrible couldn’t happen to her cousin. But she knew all too well that there was truth in the saying that bad things could happen to good people.
Late Thursday night, when he finally had a few spare minutes, Rob telephoned a detective he employed for surveillance work and asked if the detective and a friend who worked with him could interview everyone living or working on Cornelia Street. Had anyone seen Dinah come home at one a.m. Thursday? Or seen anyone leave the Hathaway house between one and six a.m.? When did lights in the building go off or on? Did anyone see Dinah leave the house at five forty-five a.m.? Tom and the Fry guards could vouch for her, of course, but neighborhood witnesses would be impartial and convincing. Th
e two detectives were available and would start Friday morning.
Seventeen
Coleman lay in bed listening to the pounding rain, waiting for the slap of Friday’s papers against the floor outside her apartment door. When she heard it, she rushed barefooted in her nightgown to bring them in. Back in bed with the papers and a fresh cup of coffee, she leafed through them to see whether anyone had picked up the story of the death at DDD&W. Thank goodness, the New York Times had nothing, and the two tabloids that mentioned DDD&W described the death as an accident. Still, it was only a matter of time till the murder became headlines. She’d call Debbi later today. They’d need to put their own spin on everything happening at DDD&W. There’d be no point in calling now; Debbi was a late riser.
She hurried through her shower, dressed in a St. John beige knit pantsuit and her Burberry, put on her Wellingtons, and fed Dolly. Dolly hated rain, so Coleman carried her in her pouch and walked with her at a fast clip to the office. Once there, Coleman checked the fax machine. Hallelujah, the list from the Prince Charles Stuart Museum had arrived. It was much shorter than she’d expected, given the amount of wall space at DDD&W. But the note with the list reported that this was everything. She stuffed the list in her carryall for closer study later and checked her e-mail.
Groan. Rob had invited her to dinner at his apartment Saturday night. She’d try one last time to get him to back off, and if he didn’t—well, that was that. She sent her reply:
“Rob: I’d like to have dinner with you. We have a lot to discuss. But if I come, you must lay off the marriage talk. If we can’t be friends—and only friends—I can’t go on seeing you. Let me know if we have a deal.” Surely that was clear enough? If only he’d stop pushing her. She’d like to keep him as a friend.
Her first task of the day was to search the Internet for James Davidson’s obituary and for articles about him. Good, everything she needed was there. Davidson drowned at the age of sixty-four, while swimming in a lake near his weekend estate in Connecticut. His only child, a son, had been killed in a traffic accident many years earlier. Three years before Davidson died, he’d divorced and remarried. Twin daughters from his second marriage, Margaret and Elizabeth, survived him. What had become of them? And where was their mother? She wasn’t mentioned in the obituary. Was she dead? If both parents had died, someone must have been appointed their guardian until they were old enough to take care of themselves. Why hadn’t they joined DDD&W when they were old enough? Could the will have specified a male heir or heirs? Would that be legal? Oh good, here was Davidson’s New York address: 4 Sutton Place South. She’d need that information at Chambers Street.
Fatal Impressions Page 8
