The Heir Hunter

by Chris Larsgaard

  “Pretty quiet back there. You all right?”

  She lifted her head and nodded weakly. “Listen,” she said, “what happened with Matt—I realize you couldn’t have known. That’s fair. I’m . . . glad you came out to my place. You probably saved my life. I want you to know I am grateful for that.”

  Nick nodded awkwardly and said nothing. Although absolved of blame, he certainly didn’t feel worthy of any gratitude.

  “You said you were going to come up with a plan during the flight,” she said. “Any luck with that?”

  “I have some ideas,” he said, pushing the door open. “Let’s head upstairs first. My partner needs to be a part of this.”

  The apartment was nearly empty. No couch, no tables besides the one in the kitchen. A television sat on the floor, looking small and pitiful all by itself on the living room carpet.

  “Can I talk to you in here for a second, Nick?” Alex immediately asked, stepping past them.

  Nick excused himself awkwardly and followed his partner into the bedroom. Alex closed the door partially and faced him, her arms folded in front of her.

  “Think you know what I’m mad about?”

  “Probably,” answered Nick. “I’m not sure I want to hear it right now, though.”

  “Tough. Why is she here, Nick?”

  “You already know the answer to that. Someone’s trying to kill her and she wants to know what the hell’s going on.”

  “She can go to the police.”

  “They can’t do a damn thing for her and you know it. You know I’m right, Alex. They’re not going to take her in and protect her.”

  “Oh, and you will? We’re having enough problems watching ourselves without having to worry about someone who isn’t even a client, for god’s sake.”

  “What do you want me to do—dump her off on the side of the road? She’s in this as much as her brother was.”

  “Her brother was our client, Nick; she isn’t. That’s an important distinction, I’d say.”

  Nick raised a finger to his lips. The discussion was one or two choice words from disintegrating into a shouting match. If not for the guest in the other room, he would almost have welcomed it.

  “We need all the allies we can get at this point. She has a certificate to a bank box in Switzerland that may hold something important.”

  Alex approached him, her lips tight with frustration. “Fine, but she should do us a favor first. She should sign that contract, Nick. If you’re making an effort to protect her, I think it’s the least she can do.”

  “She isn’t here for protection. She’s here to help us find out what’s going on. Alex, I’m slightly more concerned right now with clearing myself than I am about that contract. You should be concerned with the same thing. It’s probably only a matter of time before your face is posted right next to mine.”

  “And just how are we going to clear ourselves?” she asked. “What are we going to find that’s going to make these charges just go away? This isn’t the Hardy Boys, Nick—it’s real. It’s time to move forward with plan B.”

  “Is there a plan A?”

  “It’s the same plan. We get her to sign, take our passports, and go on a permanent vacation. I intend to get out. Forget getting rich—I’m going to need that money to make it abroad, and when you finally figure out that these charges aren’t going away, you’ll suddenly realize you need it too.”

  Nick frowned and turned away. Taking flight as a fugitive was a last-ditch option. It was an alternative with a frightening permanence, and yes, it would require money to be feasible. His personal savings might last him six months, and that was only if the FBI didn’t get to them first.

  “Do you think I want to go through this crap and not earn a fee?” he asked. “You need to understand the immediate problem here: she’s lost her brother. He’s been murdered, remember? This is not the time to be shoving contracts in her face. We need to give her more time. She’s too angry and full of distrust right now.”

  “We don’t have a lot of time. We can’t sneak around in the shadows forever.”

  “I know we can’t. Doug’s scheduled a hearing for her brother on Friday. We’ll sign her before then and present her to the court as the heir in Matthew’s place. For the next couple of days, though, we need to leave it alone.”

  Alex walked over to a sleeping bag in the corner and sat down. “She’s mad at us, isn’t she?”

  Nick shrugged and looked at the carpet. “She was at first.”

  “Do you feel guilty about this? About Matt and Rose?”

  “How am I supposed to feel? I certainly don’t feel good about it. About any of it. I’m very confused right now, to tell the truth.”

  “We can’t take full blame for what happened to Matt, Nick. I can understand her anger, but she can’t possibly believe that we could’ve known any of this would happen.”

  “She knows that. Look, we’ll just give her time, okay? It’s the smartest thing for now.”

  “What about the charges? We can’t tell her about them, can we?”

  Nick frowned. He had already pledged his total honesty, but telling Jessica that he was wanted for attempted murder would shatter any last hope for a trusting relationship. And yet he couldn’t risk her finding it out on her own.

  “I’ll have to eventually,” he said. “I need to win her over a bit more first.”

  “She’ll find out one way or another.”

  He rubbed his forehead in frustration. There were too many variables, too many things to keep account of. “I’ll deal with it. When the opportunity arises, I’ll tell her.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I don’t know how, okay?” he pleaded. “Please, let’s deal with this one crisis at a time.”

  They remained silent for ten seconds before Alex spoke again.

  “So what’s this about a Swiss account?”

  Nick told her about the bank certificate Jessica had found. Alex slowly paced around him, her chin in her hand.

  “There’s some sort of a Geneva connection here, Nick. Listen to this . . .” She told him about the day’s research and the strange phone call she had gotten from the Swiss banker.

  “‘Tell Taylor his plan will fail,’” Nick repeated thoughtfully. “What was the rest of it again?”

  “‘I’ve taken precautions. The end is coming soon for him.’”

  “This banker knows who Taylor is,” he said, quick with his conclusion.

  “Take his words on face value, Nick. We can’t be sure what he knows.”

  “Well, he obviously knows something. We can safely conclude one thing: from what you told me of his tone, there’s little doubt of his feelings toward Taylor. He doesn’t like him. That’s good—I don’t either. We’re on the same page in that regard.” He thought for a moment before looking up at her. “I want to have a chat with this Mr. Chagnon.”

  “Easier said than done,” she replied. “I must have called him back four or five times. They told me he was permanently unavailable and then hung up on me.”

  Nick glanced at his watch. “In another hour I’ll be able to call Geneva. If we can think of the proper approach, we may be able to talk to this guy. If I can just get him on the damn line, I think I can convince him that I want Taylor too.”

  “What if we can’t get him on the line?”

  “Then I may be hopping on another plane. Jesus Christ, this is crazy.” He let out a long breath. “Let’s get out there and talk things over with the heir. She’s part of this.”

  He stepped to the door but paused in midstride when he caught Alex’s look. He could see something in her deep brown eyes he had never seen before.

  “What is it?”

  She sat down on the sleeping bag in the corner. He lowered himself down next to her, so close their shoulders rubbed.

  “What’s going to happen to us, Nick?”

  Nick put his arm around her. He had been so busy running around, he hadn’t even had time t
o dwell on their long-term prospects. His partner clearly had found the time. It was startling to see. Alex had always been the gutsiest woman he had ever known, but he could now see real fear in those wide eyes. She needed something other than hopeful words. He pulled her to him. She hugged him back and put her face on his shoulder.

  “We’ll make it, girl. If we just rely on each other and plan this right, I think we can find our way out. But we’ve got to do it quick.”

  Like an electric jolt, the call came suddenly in the dark. Arthur Gordon rolled away from his wife of thirty-five years and reached blindly for the phone. Either his youngest daughter was having more marital problems or a break had come in the Merchant investigation. His deputy’s voice indicated it was the latter.

  “Merchant was in Iowa with one of the heirs.”

  “How do we know?” Gordon asked, propping himself up on a creaky elbow.

  “Des Moines called us. There was an incident at Jessica Von Rohr’s home yesterday. Two gunmen showed up and shot the place up.”

  “Gunmen? Wait—how do we know Merchant was there?”

  “Neighbor says she saw a man matching Merchant’s description show at Von Rohr’s door maybe an hour or so before the shooting started.”

  “Any bodies?”

  “Nothing. We’ve assigned two agents to watch the house, but the odds of her coming back are slim.”

  “Do we have full airport coverage in New York and San Francisco?”

  “Full coverage. And partial coverage in half a dozen others.”

  Gordon nodded as his wife rolled over and muttered something next to him. He lowered his voice. “You think Von Rohr’s with Merchant now?”

  “I think so, yes. He lost the first heir so he’s trying to make his payday with the sister. Probably wants to put a few million in his pocket before he leaves the country.”

  Gordon nodded as he stared into the darkness of his bedroom. “Send new teletypes. If they’re traveling together, it’s only going to make it easier for us. Did you find out when that court hearing is scheduled?”

  “Wednesday afternoon. Are you sure we can’t just drain these accounts?”

  “Not without involving people in New York State. There’s a better way to stop this hearing. Did you get that information I wanted on the attorney? What was his name again?”

  “It’s in my file. Apparently they’ve been together since Merchant and Associates started up. Known each other since childhood.”

  “That’s good. We’ll give him special attention starting tomorrow. By the time we’re through with him, he won’t be caught within ten miles of that courthouse.”

  “Merchant will just hire another one,” said Arminger, disgusted. “There are a million other attorneys who’ll jump on this opportunity.”

  “The point is, it could take him time to hire a new one. He’ll have to reschedule the hearing while he makes new arrangements. It’s another errand he’ll have to run, another person he’ll have to call, and that’s exactly what we want. The longer he’s in the States, the more likely it is he’ll leave a trail. I want you to call San Francisco immediately and get started on that.”

  “I’ll call them right now.”

  “Make sure they lean on this attorney hard,” Gordon insisted. “He may be our key.”

  Alex and Jessica were at the kitchen table under a dim plastic hanging lamp. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning. Nick poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down with them.

  “Everything’s pointing to Geneva,” he said. “We have Jessica’s bank account to look into and Ludwig Holtzmann’s friend Otto to visit. We also have a banker to talk to who may know quite a lot.”

  “This banker,” said Jessica, her eyes narrowed in thought. “How did you get his name?”

  Nick would have preferred it if she hadn’t asked. Their source had been the bank documents taken from Jacobs’s home.

  “We discovered in our earlier research that Jacobs had bank accounts in Geneva. Alex made some phone calls and eventually got hold of this man.”

  Jessica leaned forward on her elbows, thinking too hard for Nick’s liking. He turned to his partner before she could ask any more questions.

  “What do you think, Alex? Feedback?”

  Alex considered it for a moment. “I think we have to go. We have three solid leads to pursue in Geneva and very little to go on in the States, although I do have several things I need to see through here. I say you two go to Switzerland, and I stick around to finish my research in the States.”

  This made sense to Nick. It was safer if he and Alex didn’t travel together anyway.

  “What do you think?” he asked Jessica.

  She exhaled and clasped her hands together on the table. “I don’t know if I’m as concerned with uncovering mysteries as you two are. I just don’t want to end up like my brother. Geneva sounds . . . safe, I guess.” She brought her hands to her forehead and studied the surface of the table. “I’m sorry, but this is all new ground for me. You two are the professionals here.”

  “We aren’t professionals when it comes to something like this,” said Alex evenly.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, because all the amateurs seem to be getting killed,” Jessica replied with a tight smile.

  “It’s decided then,” Nick said quickly, nodding at Alex. “We take this to Switzerland; you continue whatever investigation you can here.”

  Alex got to her feet and left the kitchen. Nick gave Jessica an uneasy look and cracked a couple of knuckles. An icy silence was better than the opposite. He had zero desire to step between the two of them. Sounded dangerous.

  Jessica suddenly stood and reached for her jacket. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “You what?” said Nick. “A walk? Wait a second—”

  “Maybe I’ll jog. I haven’t decided yet. I noticed an all-night drugstore down the street. If I’m holing up in here all night, I’ll need some things.”

  “Fine. I can give you a ride.”

  “She wants to walk, Nick,” said Alex from the living room. “Let her walk.”

  Jessica was already at the door. She gave Nick a smartass wink and closed the door before he could say anything more. He approached the blinds and watched her until she was out of sight.

  “‘I can give you a ride,’” mimicked Alex from the living room.

  Nick turned to look at her. “What’s your problem?”

  “What’s yours?” she replied, glaring at him. “You’re taking this knight-in-shining-armor routine a little far, don’t you think?”

  “What are you talking about? Alex, we’re obligated to this woman. I don’t give a rat’s ass if she’s a client or not. We came into her life and we told her about this and now we owe her. Why is this so hard for you to understand?”

  “You flew all the way out to Iowa to warn her, Nick. Our obligations to her should end right there.”

  “She can help us. She has the Swiss account, remember?” He slowly shook his head at her. “All the crap I’m dealing with, and you gotta pull this little . . . jealousy act.”

  She stepped into the kitchen and got right in his face. “Jealousy? Your ego cannot be so out of whack that you actually believe that. Are you getting off on having both of us under your thumb?”

  Nick turned from her and took a seat. He purposely waited ten seconds, counting them down silently, before speaking.

  “We’re both tired, Alex. Stressed out, scared, saying things we don’t mean. The only two things I’m concerned with right now are you and me. You and me. Can we just agree on doing whatever it’ll take to come out of this alive?”

  The anger faded from her face. She leaned against the kitchen counter and frowned at the floor.

  “I’m sorry. I’m acting really stupid.”

  “I’m sorry too. I know you’re not jealous.”

  She smiled self-consciously at him. He smiled back, and it was as good as forgotten.

  “Hey,” Alex said, entering the bedr
oom, “I want to show you something.” She returned with the tiny tape recorder. “Remember this?” She pressed Play.

  “. . . Yeah, Jacobs—it’s Demello . . . I need you to gimme a call today . . . it’s important. . ..”

  “I remember,” said Nick. “What about it?”

  She reached down and took the phone book. She flipped through the pages, then placed her finger on a line for him. He read it aloud.

  “‘Demello and Blount, Private Investigators.’” He looked up at her quickly. “That’s our boys.”

  “It’s got to be,” agreed Alex. “I called the licensing board and verified it. James Demello—licensed PI in the state of New York. But you know what I find strange? Look at their address. Tell me why an elderly millionaire would go all the way down to an ugly part of East Harlem to hire a PI. There’s plenty in Albany he could’ve called.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to hire anyone too close by.”

  Alex shrugged. “I called their office about ten times. No answer. Not even a machine. I’m checking it out tomorrow.”

  “Just be careful,” he warned. “How bad is it down there?”

  “No worse than my old neighborhood.”

  “Bring your gun. I’m going to book our flight. You have a place in Albany for passports, right?”

  “Yes, but they’re not cheap.”

  “Just as long as they’re quick. Once we’re gone, you’re running the show here in the States, Alex. I know you’ll come up with something good.”

  “I’m glad one of us is sure.”

  Nick turned away, then paused. “I just remembered something else I need you to do here. Can you run a credit transaction report for Michael Dean Collier every, say, two hours?”

  “That often?”

  “Yes. Every two hours, on the hour.”

  Her eyes went wide with realization. “They’re checking credit reports?”

  “I know they’re checking Nick Merchant and Alex Moreno. We need to make sure they’re not checking Mr. Collier and Ms. Ramos. You need to stay on that two-hour timetable, okay?”

  “If you think it’s important.”