"Discount voucher for the donut shop down the street?" asked Fletcher.
"A generic apology for all the women you've dated?" asked Flaherty.
"Blackmail on Lexi?" asked Delgado.
I raised my eyebrows at that one. Just what did I accidentally send to the printer this time?
"All are valid guesses," said Lucas. "But you're all wrong. I’ve got the names of the bank box owners."
"Charlie turned them over?" I asked.
Lucas gave a brief shake of his head. "I had to hack the bank. They have incredibly good security but not good enough to keep me out. I downloaded it and covered my tracks."
"Let me see," said Solomon, holding out his hand and taking the papers Lucas handed to him. He scanned the list and turned the page. "Anyone stand out to you?" he asked as he read more. "Did you run any of the names?"
"I only just got them," said Lucas.
"May I see?" I asked and Solomon passed the list to me. I glanced at it, stopping at one name near the end of the list. "Joe Bagshot? His name came up when I spoke to Maddox."
"Joe Bagshot? Something about it does sound familiar," agreed Solomon.
Fletcher frowned too, then his eyes widened. "Joe Bagshot, the thief? That slippery bastard kept a security box at First Eastern?"
"Unless the name happens to be just a huge coincidence, yes! Maddox said Bagshot was sighted in the area but they could never confirm anything. Apparently, he's dead." I paused, thinking. "Where's that list?" Delgado passed it to me and I skimmed it. "There were some passports with the same photo but different names on them. I made a note at the time."
"Let me see," said Fletcher, reaching for the list. "Yeah," he said when he scanned it. "These are both aliases for Bagshot. That confirms it for me. I heard the rumor that he was dead too. I wonder what the hell he had inside a bank box besides his surplus identities."
Solomon took the list and stuck it to the whiteboard. "Good catch, Lexi. If it is the same guy, there's a good chance whatever he stored in there is valuable," he added.
"And there's a chance someone else knew about it. With Bagshot dead, they couldn't get to it by any other means than pulling off a heist," said Fletcher. "This whole thing just got a whole lot bigger."
"What kind of stuff did this Bagshot guy prefer to steal?" asked Delgado.
"What he didn't steal would make a shorter list," replied Solomon. "He was a high-end man. Back in the day, if you wanted something priceless stolen from a museum, a jeweler, or a private collection, he was the man to call. He got arrested a couple of times but the charges never stuck. It makes sense now why the Feds were looking into the robbery if they had reliable intel that Bagshot used the bank."
"I would have mentioned it earlier but it slipped my mind when Mackleton was killed," I admitted, coloring slightly. I should have told Solomon immediately, even if it didn't seem linked. If I had, his investigation could have taken an entirely different direction. I mentally kicked myself and waited for an admonishment that didn't come. "We should find out what he stole before he died," I said. "Is there any way we can drill down on likely thefts?"
"Sure. Where do you want to start? North America? Europe? Asia?" asked Solomon, with a shake of his head.
"Bagshot wasn't enormously active in his later years," said Fletcher. "He busted a hip a couple of years back in Boston just clearing snow off his porch and word has it that dropped him into semi-retirement."
"Perhaps it was an old theft?" I suggested. "If it's even related at all."
"We can take a look at old thefts, and see if anything was rumored to be stolen for himself. Perhaps he kept a memento that someone wanted or maybe he double-crossed someone."
"Maddox said news of Bagshot's death would draw all kinds of people out of the woodwork. I'm thinking an old associate, a rival, a client, or an enemy," I said.
Flaherty, who remained silent until now, nodded. "I like how Lexi narrowed it down; first, to the entire world, and second, to everyone in it." I punched him lightly on the arm and laughed. There was no point getting mad about his teasing. Flaherty was right: the search parameters were too vast and we couldn’t come up with a name from it.
"This is the best lead we have," said Solomon. "Forget Mackleton. His crew were clean and quick. They left no trace of themselves at the robbery or at his murder scene, ensuring the connection between him and them was already severed. Let's pursue the Bagshot angle. Lucas, you know what to do?"
"Yes, boss. Verify it's the same guy."
"Then do a deep dive into his history. See if he's really dead, and find out what crimes he's connected to."
"What about us?" asked Fletcher.
"Find out where Bagshot lived and head up to Boston. Take a look around and see what factors played into his life."
"On it," agreed Flaherty.
"You and I need to finish our probe into any bomb-making supplies that may have entered Montgomery recently. We also need to take a look at some of those warehouses where they could have constructed a walk-through to rehearse their plan," said Solomon, looking at Delgado. "Do you have any free time?" he asked me.
I nodded. "A little. What do you need?"
"Charlie Sampson's background. It's crucial now. See if he has any connection to Joe Bagshot. Could they have known each other socially?"
"Do you think Charlie knew what was inside that box?"
Solomon nodded. "It's pretty likely. He told us he's often in the room when people access their boxes."
"But he also might have known the item had to be stolen in the first place. He asked the agency to retrieve it for his client but we're reasonably sure Bagshot is already dead so that can't be true." I paused, contemplating my deduction. That only left one motive for Charlie. "If it's all true, if it was Bagshot’s box, then Charlie doesn't want to return the item either to the client or to his employers. He wants to keep it for himself," I inferred.
"It also explains why he wouldn't tell us what the item is. If he did, we might research it and find out it's stolen. He couldn't be certain we wouldn't refuse the case on that basis, or turn it over to the police, thereby landing him in hot water with his employers," said Solomon. "People, be careful. There's already one murder and one attempted murder attached to this case. Be aware and stay alert."
"I'll have something for you within the hour," I said. "Can I call on Lucas if I need help?"
"Sure," said Lucas. "You know where to find me."
Lucas, Fletcher and Flaherty took off together. Lucas headed upstairs and I was pretty sure I wouldn't see the other two PIs for the rest of the day.
"This is what we've currently got on Charlie," said Solomon, passing a thin file to me. I opened it, noting only three sheets of paper. The top one held his personal information. The next his resume. The last sheet was a rundown of his financial report.
"You already checked his financial records?" I asked, skimming over the figures. A mortgage of twenty thousand on a house valued at eight hundred thousand. That made sense for a man close to retirement who apparently lived at the same address for twenty-two years. A savings account with ten thousand, and a credit card with five hundred on it. His car didn't have any payments left. While he wasn't well off, he lived adequately within his means.
"It seemed prudent too," said Solomon. "I didn't notice any red flags but I didn't dive too deeply either."
"For a bank manager, I guess I expected him to be more savvy. Why doesn't he have any investments? Say, a rental property or stock shares? A larger savings balance? I would have assumed he planned ahead to enjoy a more luxurious retirement."
"Perhaps he simply enjoyed what he had when he had it? If you find out anything that raises suspicions, tell me immediately."
"Sure," I replied. I took the file back to my desk and moved the Takahashis' out of the way. I needed time to think about the information I gathered but also to focus on something else for a while. Hopefully, Austen was too busy conferring with his wife's doctors about her recovery to
wonder about my next check-in. Looking into Charlie Sampson was the perfect distraction to refresh my mind.
I already had a headstart, thanks to Solomon's notes, so I didn't need to dive into more research into his financials or his true address. There were a few notes regarding his wife, and two grown-up children who had long since moved out. The wife worked as a librarian and earned a steady income. Solomon noted Charlie's career was solid but far from extraordinary and after dutifully climbing the banking career ladder to become manager, he just plateaued.
There was nothing about Charlie's personal life, which only made me curious: what kind of man was he? I doubted a man his age would be a social media user but I typed his name into a search engine anyway and waited to see what came back. I was pretty sure he wasn't a rodeo champion bull rider so I added “Montgomery” and this time, he popped up in the images function. I clicked on that and found a couple of small news articles. In the first one, Charlie was photographed with his wife after winning some kind of small cash prize. The caption beneath their image read, "Local couple Charlie and Sandy Sampson's surprise win on their anniversary." Charlie's arm was around Sandy's waist, and both of them were smiling happily. The second was from a talk Charlie gave to Montgomery's Amateur Coin Collecting Society on the topic of the evolution of American coins. The accompanying photo had him surrounded by several men and one woman as he proudly held up a rare coin that a member of the society discovered in their backyard and sold for a very large sum.
Something about the article made me read it again but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. Certainly not for how exciting it sounded. His whole talk seemed more like a snooze fest to me. All the same, I clicked the link for Montgomery's Amateur Coin Collecting Society website and prepared to die of boredom. Five minutes in, I was almost there. Not only was the website black with an eye-watering, yellow font but it was also entirely disorganized. It appeared to have been written by someone unable to get to the point. Wading through a couple years of blog posts that mentioned Charlie more than once, I noticed that some featured a snapshot of him and his personal collections. Apparently, he gave two other talks to the society and conducted a short summary of excursions the society took to the Museum of Fine Arts and the Money Museum of Boston. That ended my research. Who knew so many people were that interested in rare coins? The only time I ever had any interest in them was when I didn't have enough change for the parking meter.
I clicked back to the article about the coin that fetched a large sum. Apparently, it was sold through an auction house in New York. Out of curiosity, I clicked on the auction house website and searched for the listing. Six months ago, the sale apparently caused quite a buzz when a large West coast museum won the bid. I scribbled the sum on my notepad and briefly wondered what I would do if I were to suddenly receive so much money. It was crazy how a single coin could be worth so much.
"Oh," I breathed, the light bulb switching on at last. Of course! How could I have missed it? "Solomon!"
Solomon ducked his head around the door. "Yes?"
"Can you bring me the log from the bank vault?" I said, waving him over. "I've got it!"
"Sure." As Solomon moved to grab the list I made and I waited, I was thinking it through again. I was sure I had it. "Did you find something?" he asked from behind me.
"I think so," I told him. "See here? Charlie knows a lot about coins. It's his hobby. He collects them, lectures at a coin society and often takes excursions with them to coin museums."
"Okay?" Solomon frowned.
"He knows all about coins," I said, taking the list from him. I scanned it, then flipped to the next page. There it was! Something so innocuous, I totally ignored it. "There was a coin magazine amongst the things we salvaged in the vault but where were the coins? Nowhere to be found. That’s because there weren't any. Not a single one."
"A magazine? That's your bright revelation?"
"There's no point in keeping a coin collector magazine in a bank vault. It's worth even less than the five-dollar cover price someone paid for it. But I'll bet the content is valuable information. That’s why it was folded up and stuffed inside."
"You're way ahead of me here. Are you saying the stolen item is a coin?"
"Yep! That's exactly what I'm saying. A coin is small and portable. It would easily fit into that box and is the type of thing Joe Bagshot would steal, right? Small, valuable and highly portable. It could be worth a fortune to a private collector and Charlie would know that. He said he occasionally remained in the room while people were putting their precious items inside their boxes. What if he saw a rare coin and realized what it was? Except he couldn't get it as long as Bagshot were alive. He might have even researched it in advance. When he realized Bagshot's box was the target, he knew what was stolen and also that Bagshot wasn't coming back for it."
"So he hired us to track it down in order to claim it for himself. No one could deny it wasn't his all along. He could probably justify our fee in the bank records as investigative security measures or some other plausible excuse."
"He relied on us not realizing its value or provenance. We might find the robbers and the stash, never bothering to recognize a little, tiny coin."
"You might have just cracked the case," said Solomon, leaning down to plant a kiss on my cheek. "I knew hiring you was the best idea I ever had."
"Marrying me was the best idea you ever had."
"It's not a competition. Take the win," he said and kissed me again. "If Lucas can tie a coin to one of Bagshot's suspected robberies, we’ll have a solid foundation to work from."
"There's only one problem with that," I said. An alert popped on my screen that I had an email from Annie Woodley. I ignored it for the moment while I assembled my thoughts about Charlie. "We can't tie any of this to Charlie, not in a concrete way, and it doesn't help us find whoever stole the coin, assuming that's what it is. It might already be long gone."
"Charlie doesn't seem to think so."
"Charlie has no clue who stole it or who ordered the theft. He's just hopes we can get it before it disappears into thin air. I bet he'd take possession of it, wait a few months or even a couple of years and then sell it. He knows exactly the kind of people who would be interested in purchasing it."
"I'm going to take this information to Jord and see what he makes of it," decided Solomon. "Want to come?"
My phone buzzed and I picked it up. Maddox texted CALL ME ASAP. "I have to focus on Sophie right now," I said. "And call Maddox back. I think he has information for me." Before I could even hit dial, my phone rang. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen.
"Lexi?" Alice asked through the sounds of commotion and a high-pitched beep.
"Is everything okay?" I replied.
"I'm at the hospital. Austen and Sophie were attacked."
"What?! Are they okay?"
"I think you should come here now. As fast as you can!"
Chapter Nineteen
I raced from the elevator, sliding on a puddle of spilled coffee, only for my path to be blocked by two large police officers. "You can't go in there," said one.
"Austen Takahashi is my client," I said, attempting to duck past him but the officer blocked my way, causing me to weave again. Several people in white coats and scrubs moved around Sophie's room, their voices low and anxious.
"This is a crime scene," he said politely. "I'll have to ask you to step aside."
"But..." I caught Austen's eye over his shoulder and waved at him. Austen hurried forward, holding the bandage on his head.
"This lady is a member of my team," he said.
"And I can vouch for her too," said Alice behind me.
"What are you still doing here?" I asked, spinning around. "I thought you were going home! What happened?"
"I tried to but there was an emergency and I stayed back and then—" she waved her hand towards Sophie's room "—then this happened."
"What happened to your head? And what about Sophie?" I ask
ed as Austen stepped around the officers. Apparently trusting me not to cause any trouble, the officers retreated and maintained their position, blocking the corridor from more intruders. The three of us took a few steps away from them to talk. "You have blood on your shirt!" I said, looking more closely at him.
Austen grimaced. "Someone hit me from behind," he said. "When I came to, I was lying on the floor and I started to get up when I saw someone tampering with Sophie's IV. I grabbed his leg and he pushed me away and hit me again. I yelled as loud as I could for help and wouldn't let go until he kicked me and raced out of the room."
"Where was Manny?"
"I asked him to get us coffee. He was just coming back when he saw what happened and took off after the guy," he added, pointing to the far end of the corridor.
"Where does that lead?" I asked Alice.
"Our supply closets and the stairwell."
"Did you see who it was?" I asked.
Austen shook his head. "He hit me from behind and when I woke, my vision was kind of blurry. All I remember is a shape. Maybe some dark hair or it could have been a hood or a cap."
"Male? Female?"
"Male. I think. I guess. He was strong. His wrists were white."
"The hospital has security cameras in here, right?" I asked Alice.
She nodded. "Sure, but not in every room. I'm not sure Sophie's room had one."
"Is Sophie okay?" I asked.
Alice grimaced. "We don't know what kind of tampering occurred. They're changing all her lines and monitors just as a precaution."
"Okay. I'm going to check the stairwell to try to find Manny. Perhaps he caught the guy," I said optimistically. Manny was fast and strong and he had a police background, so he knew how to tackle a guy as well as defend himself.
"Be careful," warned Austen. "Whoever did it already hurt Sophie once when she was alone. This time, he tried it again in a busy hospital. He's more than a little dangerous."
Mission Page 24
