“Hyder Ali?” Scott replied. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“He said he’s a reporter and it’s important that he speaks to you,” the maître d explained.
Scott mulled this over. “A reporter?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, send him in.”
Scott placed the martini down and took a long drag from the cigar. Two minutes later a man walked in.
“I’m a busy man so I don’t like being disturbed,” Scott said. “But what can I do for you?”
Hyder went over and sat down across from him.
This threw Scott off balance. This reporter was not only intruding on his leisure time, he was also rude.
Scott held his tongue.
“Mr. Scott,” Hyder started. “I am working on a story that involves corruption, fraud, and even murder. I am here to clear up certain facts from you before I publish this story.”
Scott’s back tensed. “What are you talking about?”
“I won’t waste your time, as I know you’re a busy man,” Hyder continued, unable to resist a jab at Scott’s earlier comment, “but this involves not only you but also those working at TriGate Management Group.”
Scott swallowed hard.
Hyder proceeded to lay out the entire scheme. He dropped several names: Amanda Hansborough, Eric Freeland, and everyone else whose signature was on the checks.
He went further by outlining the use of the internal accounting code.
When he was done, the color had drained on Scott’s face. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead. He bit his upper lip and tried to rub the beads of sweat off, but they reappeared.
He coughed. “Ahem… I’m not going to confirm what you just told me…”
“But you won’t deny it, either,” Hyder said.
Scott loosened his tie. His shirt collar was damp. “I don’t know where you got this story, but I can tell you that if you publish it, our company will sue you and your publisher for defamation.”
“So are you going on record to say it is false?” Hyder asked.
“I’m not saying anything on record,” Scott claimed. “But I can assure you that what you have told me is nothing but pure fabrication, and unless you have proof, you should be very careful about what you print.”
“But I do have proof.”
Scott’s mouth went dry.
From his backpack Hyder pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and held it up for Scott to see.
“It’s a copy of a check signed by you,” Hyder said. “As you can see, it was made out to someone working for the city.”
“I write a lot of checks,” Scott said. “It was probably for a charity or something.”
“Call it whatever you want, but the letters ‘PPC’ at the bottom indicate the money was for other purposes. In my story I will refer to them as a bribe.”
The cigar nearly fell out of Scott’s hands. He coughed, this time loudly. His face was red, as if he were choking.
“These are very strong accusations,” he said between breaths. “And we will fight against them vigorously.”
Hyder looked at him and then nodded. “That is your prerogative. My duty is to verify the facts before I publish them, and it is why I was here to speak to you.” Hyder stood up to leave.
“By the way, where did you get that check?” Scott asked.
“I have many more. In fact, I have an entire file filled with these and other documents.” Hyder made sure to emphasize the word ‘file.’
“Thank you for your time Mr. Scott.”
When Hyder had left the room, Scott immediately pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.
SIXTY-SIX
Hyder nodded to Nolan, who was sitting in his car outside the restaurant, watching.
Hyder walked down the street and turned the corner. He waited a few minutes, then, as if on cue, Scott came out the front door and headed straight for the parking lot.
Scott got behind the wheel of his Mercedes and drove away.
A few seconds later, Nolan’s car followed.
Their plan was now in motion.
Scott was clearly shaken up by what Hyder had told him. They were hoping that he would then do something drastic that would expose the lie TriGate had been hiding for so long. They weren’t sure if this would work, but it was worth a shot.
Hyder had done his part. Now it was up to Nolan to do his.
It had been decided that Nolan would see through the last part of the plan. He was, after all, a member of the police force. Whatever came next, he would be better suited to deal with it. Hyder and Jessica had already dealt with so much. Jessica had been chased by the man in the suit and Hyder had almost been shot by the same man. It was better to leave the rest to the professionals.
Hyder rode his bike back through the streets.
He wasn’t sure if what they were about to do was enough, but he was satisfied that he had tried his best. There was nothing more he could have done. He had rattled Scott, and he hoped Scott would lead them to the others who were involved.
He parked in front a coffee shop and went in.
Jessica was waiting for him. She was sitting in the back. She smiled when she saw him.
“Did he take the bait?” she asked immediately.
“Oh, yeah,” Hyder replied, grinning. “He was sweating like a pig. For a moment I thought he would pass out.”
“So, did you plant it?” she asked eagerly.
“Yep,” he smiled. The plan also included placing a small microphone the size of a watch battery in Scott’s coat. On the way out Hyder had spotted the coat hanging by the door. He slipped the microphone into its front pocket and left.
Nolan would get close enough to Scott and hopefully record whatever incriminating information he revealed.
Jessica looked relieved.
Chloe came over and asked if Hyder wanted anything to drink. “On the house,” she said with a smile.
“Well, in that case,” Hyder said. “I’m going to order everything on the menu.”
“Don’t get carried away,” Jessica said with a smile. “You’re a friend, not a boyfriend.” There was a twinkle in her eyes.
Hyder smiled. “In that case, I’ll have a medium coffee with two creams and two sugars.”
“You’re allowed a snack as well,” Chloe teased.
“I wasn’t aware of that, but that’s good to know. Then can I also get a triple chocolate muffin?”
“Coming right up,” Chloe said and walked away.
Hyder and Jessica sat down. .
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For everything you’ve done for me.”
He shrugged. “Ah, it’s nothing. I do this all the time.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You always help your former professor’s daughter find out who killed her father?”
He smiled. “Like I said, I do it all the time.”
“Thanks anyway,” she said. “You have no idea how difficult it was to hear that my dad had killed himself when I knew deep down that he would never do such a thing. My dad was right to trust you. Had he not sent you the pages from his diary, who knew if I would’ve found out the truth?”
“I’m glad I could help,” Hyder said.
“What’re you going to do now? I mean, about your job situation?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll bring out my old resume and polish it up. Or, I’ll go and work for my uncle in his accounting firm.”
“Don’t do that. Please,” she said. “You’ve always wanted to be a reporter and it would be a shame if you did anything else.”
Hyder looked at her. “Your father said the same thing to me back when I was a student.”
“He meant it when he said it then, and I mean it when I say it now.”
He nodded. He would do some serious thinking later. But he knew it would involve being a reporter in some way.
Chloe returned with his coffee and muffin
.
“Aren’t you having anything?” he asked Jessica.
“The courtesy is not extended to employees of this coffee shop; it is only extended to friends of the employees of this coffee shop.” Chloe quipped.
They laughed.
“Don’t worry,” Chloe said. “I’m bringing her drink and mine in a second. I’ll be joining you guys too, unless you guys need some private time alone.”
“No, please join us,” Jessica said.
“Yeah, you can join us now,” Hyder quipped.
They laughed again.
SIXTY-SEVEN
Nolan slowed the car and watched the Mercedes enter the front gates of a large estate. The vehicle disappeared up the road.
Nolan pulled out the earphones and inserted them in his ears. He listened.
He heard Scott twist and turn inside the Mercedes.
Scott then turned off the engine and slammed the door shut.
Nolan’s brow furrowed. The earphones went silent.
Scott must have left his coat in the Mercedes!
Nolan pulled out the earphones and threw them in the passenger seat.
Now they wouldn’t be able to record what happened next.
Nolan got out of his car and headed for the gates of the estate.
SIXTY-EIGHT
Scott was met at the front door by a butler in a tuxedo.
“Where is he?” Scott demanded.
“Mr. Marshall is currently in a conference call,” the man said.
“I don’t care, I have to speak to him now.” Scott rushed past. The butler tried to protest, but Scott was already down the hall and through the door.
Charles Marshall was sitting behind his desk. He looked up at Scott and then said into the speaker, “Gentlemen, can we continue this later? I have something urgent to attend to.” He pressed a button and the line went dead. “Terry, why are you barging into my house like this?” he asked, clearly annoyed.
“I called you earlier,” Scott replied. “But your employee wouldn’t let me speak to you.”
“I was on another call,” Charles said. “Now what’s this about?”
SIXTY-NINE
Nolan caught the security camera above him. It was aimed at the front of the gates. He pressed the buzzer and waited.
“Yes?” a male voice said.
Nolan didn’t answer.
“Hello? Can I help you?”
Nolan kept silent.
“Please state your reason for coming,” the man requested.
Nolan kept his head low and his mouth shut.
Two minutes later, as he hoped, he spotted a butler in a tuxedo coming down the drive.
The butler reached the gate and said, “Sir, unless you have an appointment, I advise you to leave. If you don’t, then I will have to call the police.”
“That’s good to hear,” Nolan said, “Because I am the police.” He flashed his badge.
SEVENTY
“Slow down,” Charles said. “You’re not making sense.”
Scott was trying to tell Charles what had transpired between him and Ali, but he was babbling.
Charles got up and poured a drink. He placed it before Scott.
Scott swallowed it in one gulp.
“Now, tell me everything, slowly,” Charles said.
Scott nodded. “Hyder Ali came by and told me he knows what we’ve been doing. He said we were behind Amanda Hansborough’s accident, he said he knew we were behind Eric Freeland’s murder, and he said he knows about our internal accounting code.”
Charles gritted his teeth. “How?”
“I don’t know, maybe he got it from Freeland.”
Charles shook his head. “Freeland never had anything on us. If he did, he would have already used it against us.”
“But I saw a check.”
Charles’s eyes narrowed.
“And it had my signature on it.”
“Did you see an original or was it a copy?”
“A copy.”
“Then we have nothing to worry about.”
There was a knock at the door. “What is it?” Charles bellowed.
The butler appeared. “Sir, it’s your afternoon meal.”
“Isn’t it early?”
“I thought I’d bring it to you now. I’ll be busy with other duties,” The butler claimed.
“Fine, whatever.” Charles waved his hand. “Put it over there.”
The butler went to the corner of the room and placed the tray on the side table. He quickly left.
When the door was shut, Scott said, “How can you tell me not to worry? Hyder Ali knows everything.”
“He is trying to rattle you, Terry,” Charles said. “He is trying to do what Freeland tried to do—make us nervous, so that we did something irrational.”
“But… but he knows… about what we did,” Scott stammered.
“So what? What will he do with this information?”
“He could take it to the police.”
Charles scoffed. “Do you think they’d believe him? How would it look if he told them that we had something to do with Amanda Hansborough’s death? The police would want proof. The report that outlined how the brakes were tampered with no longer exists. We destroyed it.”
“What about Freeland’s murder?” Scott asked.
“It’s still a suicide, unless the police have evidence stating otherwise,” Charles said. “Terry, they don’t have anything linking us to Hansborough or even Freeland.”
Scott slowly nodded. “Ali was very convincing about what he knew.”
“Sure he was; that’s his job. He wanted to get you to confess to everything. He was hoping for a big story. He is desperate. He was fired from the Daily Times and now he needs something to regain his reputation. He will do anything to get a story, even if it means pressuring one of us to go against each other.”
“He mentioned the mole, but didn’t give me a name,” Scott said.
“We know who it is. It was James Vander Lee!” Charles slammed his fist on the desk. “If only we knew he was the one behind it all, we would have dealt with him a long time ago.” Charles calmed himself. “No matter, Vander Lee will no longer be a thorn in our side.”
“Is… he… dead?”
“Grant took care of it.” Charles leaned back on his chair and put his fingers together. “Terry, the people with direct knowledge of our system are no longer alive, which means it’ll be business as usual.”
Scott thought about it and he felt relieved. He was glad he came and spoke to Charles. Charles was the CEO of TriGate so he was in the best position to handle it. It was, after all, his scheme that made them all rich. But then a thought popped in his head. He said, “What about the file? The one Hansborough created as part of her internal audit that outlined the money and the bribes? Ali mentioned it specifically.”
“He’s lying,” Charles said sternly. “He doesn’t have it and never will.”
SEVENTY-ONE
Hyder was riding his bike when his cell phone rang.
He stopped by the side of the road and pulled it out. He checked, but didn’t recognize the telephone number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Hyder Ali?” a male voice said.
“Yes, who is this?”
“My name is John Kroft, Jr.” he said. “I believe you used to work for me.”
Hyder’s heart nearly stopped. Kroft Jr. was the publisher of the Daily Times. Hyder was fully aware of his family’s history. Kroft Sr. had founded the paper.
While employed at the Daily Times, Hyder never once had the privilege of meeting him. He had heard stories about how Kroft Jr. kept the paper afloat and how he kept it away from irrelevancy.
“Are you still there?” Kroft said.
“Um… yes, sir, I am.”
“Would it be too much trouble for you to come and meet me?” he asked.
“It… it would be no trouble, sir,” Hyder said. “Let me know when and I’ll be there.”
�
��How about now?”
“Um… yes, now is fine too.”
“Great!” he said cheerfully. “Do you know where my office is?”
Every employee of the Daily Times knew where his office was, but only a handful had ever visited it.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then I’ll wait for you.”
The line went dead.
For a few minutes Hyder stood by the side of the road, staring at his cell phone. He couldn’t believe he had just had a conversation with the publisher of the Daily Times. It felt surreal.
Hyder looked at his watch. He wasn’t about to make Kroft wait for him.
Hyder jumped on his bike and rode toward the Daily Times.
Hyder pedaled as fast as he could. When he reached the building he was out of breath. He paused to let himself catch his breath and cool down. He then fixed his hair and went in.
He took the elevator all the way to the top floor.
He got out and went through a set of glass doors.
To his surprise there was no secretary there to greet him.
He stood by the desk, not sure of what to do. Should he call Kroft again? Should he just walk in?
Hyder didn’t know the protocol.
As he was mulling over his options, the door in the back swung open.
John Kroft Jr. came out, smiling.
He was tall. He wore a black striped suit. His hair was thick and wavy and he had on round spectacles.
“Hyder,” he said, coming over and extending his big hands. “Do you mind if I call you Hyder?”
“No, sir,” Hyder shook his hand.
“Ah, no need for this sir nonsense, call me John.”
“Okay,” Hyder agreed, but he was certain he could never get himself to call him by his first name. The man was a legend and Hyder had too much respect for him.
“Come in, come in,” Kroft said.
Kroft’s office was massive and magnificent. It reminded Hyder of offices he had seen in movies from the 1940s. Everything looked old but fresh at the same time. The desk, the shelves, the chairs, the lamps, everything looked like it had some history to it. Hyder had a feeling some of the furniture was from the time the paper was started.
Hyder’s mouth dropped at what he saw next. On one side of the office, an entire wall was covered with frames from the front cover of the Daily Times. When Hyder squinted, he noticed the significance of the dates. He saw a cover from the day JFK was assassinated, another from when Neil Armstrong had landed on the moon, and another from when the Watergate Scandal broke.
The Silent Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #1) Page 17
