“But if I say ‘a lot’ I’m not going to be far off,” Justin said.
“No. That would be extremely accurate. But we also do a lot of margin lending, and that’s at least as profitable.”
“So you did all of that for Ascension?”
“As I said, and quite a few other hedge funds. We have many resources that smaller firms, money management companies and funds like Ascension, don’t have. We can get better deals, get in earlier than other companies, sometimes get in on an investment opportunity when other firms can’t get in at all. One of our jobs, one of the key aspects of Ellis’s job, is to bring money in to those deals. Let’s say one of our clients wants to raise three hundred million dollars in an IPO. We’ll certainly have a share of that, if not the entire thing. We might need to raise half, a hundred and fifty million. So we go out and get it.”
“And you might get it from Ascension? Telling them this is a good investment.”
“Sure. But as I keep saying, we go to many other hedge funds like Ascension. We don’t put all our eggs in one basket. Or even a hundred baskets.”
“So Ellis is a salesman in a lot of ways.”
“Yes. He’s a salesman and an adviser and an investor and a deal maker.”
“Can you walk me through a typical day-to-day deal?”
“I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to give you real cash numbers—”
“Just hypothetical. I want to make sure I understand the relationship.”
“Is this really relevant to your investigation?”
“It might be. I can’t say for sure until I know a lot more of the facts. And the background.”
“You don’t think Ellis has anything to do with what happened to Evan?” French asked. He didn’t seem particularly horrified or shocked at the thought. More curious.
“I didn’t say that. I’d just like to understand the kinds of relationships Harmon had with people who he worked with. It’s very unlikely that Evan was killed by someone he didn’t know. The odds are it was someone he knew extremely well.”
“All right,” French said. “Let’s say the head of research into new media comes up and says we should invest in . . . oh . . . companies that are working on technology to make it easy to download original product into iPod-like devices. Got that?”
“So far.”
“Let’s say they’ve come up with a way to do it for audiobooks.”
“Don’t listen to them. I like to read the real thing.”
Justin watched as French did his best not to roll his eyes. The executive stayed polite, and he barely hesitated before continuing his explanation. Justin was impressed. It was one of his best things: annoying people to see how they responded. French must have spent a lot of his days being annoyed by a lot of people because his response was to simply keep going. Didn’t change his demeanor when caught in a lie, didn’t flinch when aggravated by stupidity. No wonder he was a success on Wall Street, Justin decided.
“We have the resources to research which companies have the best technology and the greatest upside. Which companies are most likely to survive some very strict competition. We make our call; Ellis goes to Evan Harmon, says we think this is an area you want to invest in, here’s the result of the data we’ve put together; Evan comes back to us and says, ‘Okay, we’re in, we’re good for X dollars.’”
“X being a substantial amount of money.”
“Very substantial in some instances,” French said.
“That three hundred million you mentioned earlier—that’s not way out of line.”
“It can be less than that. Certainly for a company like Evan’s. But the total overall can be more.”
“And if Evan Harmon says no?”
French shrugged. “Then he says no. We move on to someone else.”
“But a rejection could hurt St. John’s pocketbook, right?”
French thought about this for a moment, then shrugged noncommittally. “It’s possible. Our salespeople are expected to bring in a certain amount of money, and their bonuses are based accordingly. But for it to affect Ellis, it would have to be a lot more than one turndown.”
Justin wondered if Daniel French’s brown hair ever got mussed. Or even moved. Or if his three-piece suit ever got a little tight. Probably not, he thought. He wondered if French was wondering right now if he, Justin, ever wore a sport coat that actually fit.
“What if Ascension took its business elsewhere?”
“It happens all the time. People move around. Hell, we’re not the only broker used by Ascension. They have several sources.” French looked at his Rolex. Still no sign of impatience, even when he said, “Is there anything else I can do for you? I do have a substantial amount of work to do.”
Justin nodded, determined to be just as polite as his corporate host, and he said, “I’d heard that Evan was not exactly thrilled with the job Ellis has been doing.”
French looked surprised. “Where did you hear that from?”
“Is it true?”
“Not remotely.”
“So he wasn’t thinking of firing him.”
“That’s absurd.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because it’s the kind of thing I’d know. I’d have to know it. We do a lot of business with Ascension—a lot of buying for them and a substantial amount of consulting and partnering. If Evan had any problem with any relationships, I’d know about it.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Would anyone else?”
“Know about any problems? It’s possible. Several executives might be aware if they existed. Possibly Lincoln might know about it because of his relationship with Evan’s father. But, again, if I didn’t know about a problem, it didn’t exist.”
“Lincoln Berdon? That’s who you were referring to?”
“Yes.”
“He’s the CEO.”
“That’s right.”
“He very friendly with Evan’s father?”
“Yes. H. R. was part of this firm for a while.”
“Why’d he leave?”
“H. R.? Because he went back into government. Happens, you know. He made his money here and went back to public service.”
“Why didn’t he come back here when he left public service?”
“You’d have to ask him. But if I had to guess, I’d say he just didn’t want to work as hard. He’d had a heart attack, and even though his job here was fairly cushy, it was still work. A lot of meetings, a lot of socializing. Plus, Evan had started Ascension by then and I think H. R. wanted to help him out, lend his presence over there. Now, I really should—”
“Just another minute or so. This is very helpful. What does that mean, exactly? Lend his presence?”
“It’s not a secret. People like H. R. hook up with companies like ours or Evan’s because of their Rolodex. H. R.’s international relationships are priceless. Like the Bushes with the Saudis. Bush One was like a member of the royal family, and it paid off for them big-time. H. R. is as tight as it’s possible to be with the Chinese, and since they’re taking over the whole goddamn world, it’s a valuable connection.”
“How valuable?”
“Does his father’s role at Rockworth have anything to do with Evan’s murder?” French asked.
“Probably not. I’m just trying to get the big picture. Anytime this kind of money is involved, it’s possible there’s some connection.”
“I’m not going to get into specifics, but H. R.’s role was essential to our doing business over there. We had access to investment opportunities in China we might not have normally had access to. Everything from financial markets to car manufacturers.”
“Chinese cars?”
“Get used to it. The wave of the future. Chinese cars, Chinese televisions, Chinese everything. We’re steering a lot of money their way.”
“Makes sense. I like their food, why wouldn’t I like their cars?”
The possibility that
Justin might now discuss different types of egg rolls finally seemed to exhaust Daniel French’s goodwill. Justin could see the helpful light go out of his eyes.
“What are the chances of my talking to Lincoln Berdon?” Justin asked.
“I doubt he’s going to be of much help. He also may be the busiest man on the planet, so good luck getting in there.”
“He’s not around now, by any chance, is he?”
“He’s in London today.”
“How about Ellis? He in London, too?”
“No, Ellis is domestic only.”
“Then where do I find him?”
There was a moment of silence from Daniel French. He looked down at his shoes, uncomfortable, before twisting his neck a bit to the side and saying, “He’s not in today.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sick?”
“I don’t know,” French said quietly. “He didn’t come in today.”
“Is that standard operating salesman procedure? To not come in on Fridays?”
“Sometimes,” French said. “During the summer.”
“And he doesn’t need to tell anyone?”
“He told his secretary that he wouldn’t be reachable today.”
“Dan,” Justin said slowly, “the guy is the key contact in your company for someone who was murdered last night, and you didn’t think it was worth mentioning until now that he’s missing?”
“He’s not exactly missing. He’s probably at a meeting somewhere.”
“How about his assistant? Would she know what meeting he’s at?”
“I checked with her before you got here. I assumed you’d want to speak to Ellis.”
“And?”
French sighed quietly. “And she doesn’t know where he is, either.”
“Can I ask you a question, Dan?”
French was looking down at his shoes again. “Yes.”
“Did you Google me before we met? Or have your people check me out?”
“Yes.”
“Find some pretty interesting stuff, did you?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Found some fairly violent episodes in my past?”
“Yes.”
“I hope you don’t think this is out of line,” Justin said quietly, “because you’ve been very nice and very helpful and I appreciate it. But you should have paid more attention to your research, because I’m not someone to fuck with and you just fucked with me. I’m not sure why and it doesn’t really matter. But my advice is don’t do it again.” He smiled brightly. “Was that out of line?”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Daniel French said.
“You can tell me who Ellis St. John’s assistant is and you can take me to her. And then get the fuck out of my way.”
They were given a small room down the hall from the big conference room. Ellis St. John’s assistant was an attractive if somewhat husky young woman named Belinda Lambert. She had large, round, brown eyes that seemed to be pleading for someone to take her away from all this. Anywhere. Although preferably anywhere that included a bedroom. Justin didn’t take the plea personally. He had a feeling that request had been made many times before.
Belinda wasn’t overly helpful once Justin made it clear he wasn’t taking her anywhere, although she was polite and her concern about her boss seemed genuine. When Justin had ascertained that she really didn’t have any idea where Ellis St. John might be—she’d tried calling his cell phone several times as well as his apartment and had e-mailed his BlackBerry, all to no avail—he tried to get her talking about St. John in general terms. She was evasive about delving into his personal habits. She did say that she was sure he wouldn’t stay away too long because of his two cats.
“He loves those cats,” she told him. “Binky and Esther, that’s their names. I mean, you wouldn’t believe the way he treats them. Buys them presents and cooks for them. It’s kind of crazy. But sweet, too, don’t you think?” He agreed it was very sweet, and when he asked who fed them when he was away, she said, “I do. They don’t like me as much, though. I’m more of a people person than an animal person. But I’ll feed them tonight and for the weekend. Well, I guess I’ll feed ’em as long as he’s away.”
“You know he won’t be home this weekend?”
“That’s what he said. That I wouldn’t be able to reach him today and he’d be gone all weekend.”
“When he told you this, did he sound upset?”
She thought for a moment. She had on a strange reddish-purple lipstick and her thought process involved licking the lipstick with her tongue and then leaving smudges of it on her white, white teeth. “No,” she said. “I’d say he sounded kind of happy. You know, excited. I got the feeling it was a hot date or something.”
“Does Ellis have a car?”
“No,” she said. “You know, I told him he should, I mean he goes away all the time on weekends. Fire Island, the Hamptons, Bucks County. He says he’d rather rent.”
“Do you make his reservation for him when he rents?”
“I don’t have to,” she explained. “At least during the summer. He has a standing reservation at Hertz on Thursdays. The one that’s just a couple of blocks from here. If he doesn’t want a car, then I cancel the day before.”
“Did you cancel on Wednesday?”
“No. So I guess he picked it up.”
“You have his cell phone number, Belinda?”
She nodded and rattled off the number. He picked up an office phone and dialed it. After several rings, a recorded message came on, a man’s voice saying, “You’ve reached Ellis St. John. I’m not available, but if you leave a message I’ll call you back as soon as possible.” When Justin heard the tone, he said, “Ellis, this is Justin Westwood, I’m chief of police for East End Harbor in Long Island. Please call me as soon as you get this message. It’s very important.” He gave his home number and his cell number, and hung up. And he made a note of St. John’s cell number.
“I’m sure he’ll call you back soon,” Belinda Lambert said. “He’s very good about calling back.”
Justin nodded. Then he asked about Ellis’s relationship with Evan Harmon. There was a noticeable hesitation and a slight off-center smile on her lips, so when all she said was, “It was fine,” Justin couldn’t let it just stop there.
“Can you elaborate?”
“On what?”
“On their relationship.” He knew that even assistants on Wall Street made six-figure salaries. Justin decided that Belinda was overpaid.
“What is it you want me to say?” she asked.
“I want you to tell me the truth. Did Ellis and Evan get along?”
“Sure.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they spoke on the phone constantly. And they got together all the time. And . . .”
“And what?”
“Look, Mr. Westwood—”
“Chief Westwood. I’m a police officer, Belinda, and this is a homicide investigation—do you understand?”
“Yes, it’s just that Ellis can be . . . well . . . he won’t like it if I tell you certain things.”
“Such as?”
She gave him an I-may-be-dumb-but-I’m-not-dumb-enough-to-fall-for-that look. Justin didn’t change his expression, just waited.
“Look,” she said, “I could get fired.”
Again, Justin stayed quiet. Apparently silence was the one thing Belinda couldn’t bear.
“I think Ellis is in love with Mr. Harmon.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe she said it out loud. But now that she had, it made it easier for her to keep going. “I mean, he never said that or anything, but you can just tell that kind of thing.”
“How could you tell?”
“He would get so excited when Mr. Harmon called. You know, he’d, like, spruce up, fix his hair or something, like Mr. Harmon could see him, even though he was just on the phone. And Mr. Harmon could ask him to do anyt
hing. I mean, like anything. You know, run an errand for him or take someone to dinner, and Ellis would just get so excited.”
“Ellis is gay?”
“Well, yah,” she said. “I mean”—and she lowered her voice to finish—“you know, this is a weird place. It’s kinda like the army, you know—don’t ask, don’t tell. It’s a real guys’ place, so Ellis isn’t like some queen or anything. I mean, I don’t know if everyone knows.”
“But you know.”
“I work for him. But even if I didn’t, I’d know.”
“Because you can just tell?”
“Just like I can tell you’re straight.” She maneuvered her breasts just a bit so they seemed to jut ahead a little straighter and she smiled at him with her abnormally white teeth. “You know, I kind of like the fact that you’re, you know, maybe not in such great shape. I’m not big on the gym rat types. I’m a little bit zaftig myself. Maybe you noticed.”
“Belinda, let me ask you something . . .”
“Sure, you might as well take advantage of me while I’m feeling so blabby.” The white from her teeth flashed even brighter. The dark lipstick stain on the upper row made it look as if she’d just bitten into an extra rare and bloody steak.
“Was Ellis ever violent?”
“Ellis? With me?”
“With anyone.”
“God, no. Well . . .”
“What?” he said.
“I never saw him violent. But once he couldn’t come into the office, he said he was sick. I went to his apartment to bring him some work and he wasn’t sick, he was pretty marked up, you know, like a black eye and some cuts and stuff. I figured it was, well, you know, a rough trade or something like that, but he’d definitely been in a fight.”
“Does he have a temper?”
“Oh yeah. He does a lot of yelling and slamming the phone down and stuff like that. But that’s not so weird around this place. I mean, you should hear Mr. Berdon sometimes, when he reams somebody out. It’s unbelievable. But, you know, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. I mean, Ellis is a fantastic boss. He can be really generous. Like, they don’t give assistants BlackBerrys here—it’s really weird what they’ll cut corners on, you know—and then they’ll spend, like, a million dollars on some golf tournament thing . . .”
Hades Page 9
