The Marlboro Man: A Moira McElvaney Mystery

by Derek Fee

  ‘If this whole investigation goes nowhere,’ Shea said. ‘Who’s going to know if we tampered with evidence?’

  ‘Let’s all agree that we might go to jail,’ Moira said. ‘But that it’s an unlikely outcome.’ She felt that she had to weigh in on Shea’s side. ‘We promised to hand everything over to Gattuso and we’ll stick with that. Let’s not get hung up on what might happen.’

  ‘Easy for you to say,’ Carmichael pouted.

  Moira needed to get the team back on track. ‘Frank will handle the financial papers and I’ll take the phone records.’ She turned to Carmichael. ‘Jamie, you’ll have to help me. Ricky, there’s nothing for you at the moment, but we’ll be in touch.’

  Shea stood up and collected the papers from the table. ‘I’ll print out the rest of the documents on the USB.’ He looked at Moira. ‘You can work here on the balcony.’

  Ricky stood up and bent to speak in Carmichael’s ear. ‘You doing anything tonight, baby?’

  ‘In your dreams.’ Carmichael tossed her head

  Ricky stomped out.

  ‘Who’s going to tell him?’ Moira said.

  ‘Not me.’ Shea and Carmichael said in unison.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  S hea had printed off all the documents on the USB and spent most of the day building up a picture of the project Greg had been working on. He filled a yellow legal pad with diagrams and text as he tried to make sense of Gardiner’s involvement in setting up companies, concluding complex international contracts and setting up escrow accounts in banks all over the world. His examination was only superficial. It would take a forensic auditor several weeks to untangle the complex combination of contracts, agreements and accounts. Shea was impressed. Not with his cousin’s husband, but with the hand that had been guiding him like a puppet. Anyone reading through the mass of documents would immediately pick out Greg as the mastermind of an elaborate scam. You had to know Greg to know that there was no way in heaven or hell that he was capable of setting up such a scheme. Shea smiled when he imagined Gattuso looking through the documents – despite his own MBA and doctorate, he was having trouble making sense of them. He needed help and it would mean another trip to Devens. On the way he stopped at a copy shop in Concord and waited while they made a copy of the more than one thousand pages from the USB. Two hours later Shea was back at Devens and Stephen Blair was standing at the door.

  ‘Two visits in one week, Frank,’ Blair said blocking the entrance. ‘Now I really am beginning to think that you’re having difficulty forgetting about us. Maybe we should have a few words in my office before we meet Ram.’

  Shea knew that there was no point in arguing. He could see where Blair was coming from. When inmates were discharged from Devens, they generally swore that they would never set foot inside the place again. Blair’s office was on the second floor and overlooked the entrance. He had been a captain in the Marines before becoming a deputy governor and his office was a memorial to his military career and his family. There were photographs of Blair in combat fatigues shaking hands with other important guys in combat fatigues. Some photos were taken Stateside with Blair having medals pinned to his chest. Interlaced with the military photos were pictures of an attractive lady with two boys and a girl in various stages of growing up. Nobody who entered Blair’s office was left in any doubt where his allegiance lay.

  Blair settled himself in his office chair and invited Shea to sit. ‘I thought we had the “don’t darken my doorstep again” talk the last time you were here. What the hell are you doing coming back to Devens? You’re not exactly the model of the ex-con who is institutionalised and can’t exist outside. So what’s up?’

  Shea knew it was time to come clean. ‘It’s like this, Warden,’ he began.

  ‘For Christ’s sake call me Steve, Frank. You’re a civilian and so am I.’

  Shea smiled. ‘OK, Steve, you see I’ve got this cousin.’ The whole story of the investigation into Gregory Gardiner’s disappearance followed.

  ‘That is either the greatest crock of shit or one of the best stories you’ve ever spun. Frank Shea as an investigator is pretty hard for me to swallow. But you’ve managed to press most of my buttons.’ Blair could imagine the anguish of his own wife and children if he were to vanish into thin air. ‘So what did Mak do for you?’

  ‘You don’t want to know, Warden. I mean Steve.’

  Blair frowned. ‘So it was probably something illegal. Jesus, Frank, didn’t you have enough of being inside? And I’m surprised at Mak. He gets out in less than a year.’

  ‘He did nothing illegal,’ Shea said. ‘He just made an introduction.’

  ‘And Ram? You want him to do something illegal?’

  Shea picked up the plastic bag. ‘In here is every document relating to the project that I’m sure got my cousin’s husband into trouble. There’s only one guy whose financial acumen I respect more than my own and that’s Ram Saha. I’ve pretty much worked out what Greg got himself mixed up in, but I need Ram to look at the documents to confirm what I’ve found.’

  ‘You know you should let the police deal with this?’

  Shea told him about the lunch with Halliday. ‘It’s not going anywhere. We’re his wife’s and his kids’ best shot.’

  ‘Jeez, Frank, you’ve put me right behind the eight ball. You get caught doing something illegal and having used inmates of Devens and my kids don’t get to go to Harvard.’

  ‘I promise that nothing I’m doing here with Ram or Mak is illegal.’ Under normal circumstances Shea would be crossing his fingers and his legs at this point but that was out of the question.

  ‘OK, I’m going to buy your story.’ Blair picked up his phone. ‘Find Saha and bring him to my office.’ He put down the phone and looked at Shea. ‘But just to be on the safe side, I want to be present when you talk to him.’

  Shea didn’t bother to argue.

  Five minutes later a guard ushered Ram Saha into Blair’s office. The guard stopped at the door when he saw Shea, but Blair waved him out. The man who entered the room ahead of the guard had a dark chiselled face and a full head of jet-black hair. He was cadaverously thin and could have been anywhere between fifty and sixty years old.

  Shea stood up and when Ram came forward the two men hugged. Shea stood back and appraised his former fellow inmate. ‘You’re looking good.’

  The Indian smiled. Shea was a bullshitter. Ram was losing weight without reason and he was currently undergoing medical testing to find out why. ‘It’s good to see you, Frank. Even if you are a liar.’

  Ram looked like shit, but Shea was never going to say that. He hoped that they’d find out what was wrong with him pretty soon. Ram was born in West Bengal and arrived in the US as a five-year-old. He was like Shea in that he excelled at mathematics at school, received scholarships to attend Princeton and Stanford, and entered a major investment bank as soon as he qualified with an MBA. He rose steadily to the dizzy heights of vice-chairman, a position that put him on the boards of many of the bank’s clients and that was to be his undoing. Ram had maintained strong contacts with the Indian community and had several friends running hedge funds. Unfortunately, greed overtook good sense and he was leaking confidential information from his board appointments to his hedge fund buddies. It was the same offence that Shea had been accused of, but in Ram’s case he was one hundred per cent guilty.

  Ram looked at Blair. ‘What’s going on here, Warden?’

  Blair indicated a chair. ‘Sit down, Ram. This is Frank’s second visit this week. He’s spun me a story as to why he’s consulting prisoners of this institution. I need to find out that he’s telling the truth.’

  ‘I need your help,’ Shea said.

  ‘If I can help, I will.’

  Shea retold the story of Gardiner’s disappearance. He didn’t mention the details of the investigation only that he had obtained a USB from Gardiner’s secretary that contained a mass of documents relating to work that Gardiner was doing for someone. He
showed Ram the plastic bag of documents.

  Ram listened intently while Shea was speaking. ‘I’d love to help, Frank,’ he said as soon as Shea stopped. ‘But I get the impression that time is an issue and I would require several weeks to review that level of documentation.’

  ‘You won’t need to review them all,’ Shea said. ‘Just give them a quick look.’ He removed a copy of the notes he’d made on the legal pad and handed it to Ram. ‘This is what I’ve come up with. All I want you to do is verify it.’

  Ram looked at Blair, who simply nodded. ‘Look, Frank, I’m not well. The warden can verify that. I’ve got a son, Sami, who is a hell of a lot smarter than I am.’ He fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Shea. ‘Bring the documents to him. He’s in his final year at Harvard Law School and does a bit of financial consulting on the side. He’s the fastest reader I’ve ever seen so he’ll have these documents reviewed by tomorrow.’

  Shea took the card reluctantly. He felt he was being passed along.

  ‘Sorry, Frank,’ Ram stood. ‘You may not believe it, but I’ve done you a favour. Sami is a financial genius, and I don’t use that word often. He’s maybe even better than you and me.’ He smiled. ‘And he knows the law. Am I good to go, Warden?’

  Blair nodded and Shea hugged his friend again.

  ‘Keep safe, Frank,’ Ram said when they stood apart.

  Ram and Shea had enjoyed many happy hours reminiscing about the deals they had worked. Shea had learned a lot from the Indian financier. ‘You too, I’ll be waiting when you get out. I’m going to buy you the best dinner in town.’

  Ram smiled. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

  Blair pressed a button on his desk and a guard opened the door and led Ram out.

  ‘What’s he got?’ Shea asked when the door was closed.

  ‘Inmates’ medical files are confidential.’ Blair stood up. ‘I think we’re done here.’ He ushered Shea towards the door. ‘Don’t forget your papers.’

  Shea picked up the plastic bag and allowed himself to be moved out of the office. They walked along the corridor until they reached the exit. Shea turned and extended his hand. ‘Thanks, Steve.’

  ‘This time I mean it, Frank. I never want to see you here again.’

  ‘I make it a practice never to say never.’ He moved off in the direction of his car.

  Blair watched him go. Frank Shea was someone he would have been proud to have in his platoon. His psych file said he’d been assessed as hyper-intelligent with a strong sense of duty and an iron will. Men like that were, in Blair’s opinion, very rare animals. Frank’s cousin was lucky to have someone like him in her corner. If anyone could find out what happened to her missing husband, it would be Shea.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  M oira looked at the mass of paper she had printed out. For a change she had absolutely no desire to dive into an examination of Gregory Gardiner’s phone records. She had given a reasonable performance of someone who was interested while Shea was there, but when he had left, the air went out of her like a burst balloon. The previous evening she and Brendan had had what could be categorised as their first fight. OK, maybe more of a spirited argument than a fight. Since they’d met them at Lawrence Airport, Brendan had been building himself up to ask ‘the question’. She had hoped she was wrong. She didn’t want to give him a negative answer, but she had made her mind up that marriage with anyone, not just Brendan, was not in her near future. As she saw it, Brendan was trying to supress his jealousy, responding like the alpha male that he was, by having his claim on her officially recognised. Her response was to frustrate him every time he mentioned the future. Eventually the dam of frustration burst and they had both said things that they hadn’t meant and were already regretting. Brendan had slept in the spare room, although she was sure that, like her, he had spent a sleepless night there.

  Moira had given marriage a try and found it seriously wanting. There was no way that a visit to a church and a piece of paper could guarantee a future life of happiness. Her marriage had left her single and her husband in jail. Neither of those futures had been in their minds when they were listening to the speeches at the wedding reception. She was still staring at the phone records when Jamie Carmichael put a cup of coffee on the table in front of her.

  ‘What’s the matter, girl?’ Carmichael sat across from her and sipped her coffee. ‘You look a little washed out today. Tell Jamie what the problem is.’

  Moira sipped her coffee but remained silent.

  Carmichael pursed her lips. ‘I smell man trouble.’

  Moira smiled. She had met this woman forty-eight hours ago and she wasn’t about to confide her innermost feelings to a total stranger.

  ‘What’s wrong? I suppose that you think because inside here was once a man that I can’t empathise with a woman’s feelings? I gotta say that you and Shea treated me right. There are so many folks out there who look on people like me as freaks.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘A few months ago I gave dating a shot.’ She saw Moira’s eyebrows raise. ‘I’m only human, girl. And yes, there are websites where a transgender lady can hook up with a man or woman who is happy to date. I had two dates and the guys I met were freaks. Lucky for them that they never called me ‘tranny’, but that was about the only positive point from the experience. Talk about twenty questions. They asked me things that no man asks a regular woman on the first date. They made me sick.’ A tear came out of her left eye and rolled down her cheek.

  Moira felt like a shit. She stood up and went to Carmichael. They hugged. Moira returned to her seat and told Carmichael all that had passed between her and Brendan the previous evening. ‘I don’t know if I want to get married again and I certainly don’t want to hurt Brendan.’

  ‘And where does Shea reckon in all of this?’ Carmichael asked.

  ‘He didn’t feature at all until you asked me if there was something between us. I only met him a few days ago and quite honestly I wasn’t thinking about him sexually.’

  ‘But you are now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘There’s a lot of little boy in Shea. It’s easy to fall for that little boy. And he don’t look half-bad either. And there’s the money. Shea ain’t just a catch, he’s the catch of the year. And he’s sweet on you.’

  Moira finished her coffee and carried her cup to the kitchen. Talking to Carmichael was not helping. In fact, it was causing more confusion. Moira had examined her conscience and decided that she hadn’t given Shea any signals that she was interested. This whole Shea thing was being driven by Carmichael’s active imagination. It was a distraction that she didn’t need. She stood at the sink washing her cup. She had signed up to investigate Gardiner’s disappearance and that would have to be her main focus. Something about the Gardiner case was bothering her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Continually thinking of a balancing act between Brendan and Shea wouldn’t help her dredge up what was out of place. She had to get herself back on track. After all, she wasn’t some love-struck teenager.

  She went back to the balcony and looked at the mound of paper on the table. ‘We’re losing momentum,’ she said and picked up the first batch of papers. ‘We need to analyse these records. So I don’t want to hear any more about me and Shea, because there is no me and Shea. Agreed?’

  ‘You can run, but you can’t hide, girl.’ Carmichael picked up a batch of records. ‘What are we lookin’ for?’

  ‘We need to identify the names behind the numbers.’

  Carmichael looked at the paper on the table. ‘Then we best get at it.’

  Gregory Gardiner certainly liked to use his phones. Ricky had managed to hack into his business and home phones and also his personal mobile phone. Moira examined the list of calls. How in the hell were they going to make sense of the many hundreds of calls that Gardiner had made in the three months before his disappearance? It would require a team of detectives to sift through the hundreds of numbers. And there might not be even one lead
in all those calls. She and Jamie started trawling through the reams of paper. There were calls to every corner of the United States as well as international calls to Norway, Switzerland, the United Kingdom and Luxembourg. They ran quickly down the record of the calls before realising that they would have to be more methodical. Moira started by logging the international numbers, then the local numbers and then the national numbers. This time-consuming exercise reduced the amount of paper by ninety per cent. The next order of business was finding out who the local numbers belonged to. Moira was sure that there were websites out there that could help, but she didn’t know where they were. Her eyes were beginning to give out by the time she picked up the last batch of records. The yellow pad at her side was covered with phone numbers and the corresponding names. Shea had called and told her that he was in Cambridge and wouldn’t be back before eight. She used the knowledge to quit at six. She caught the T back to Cambridge and a hoped-for restoration of peace between her and Brendan.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  S ami Saha’s apartment occupied the ground floor of a three-storey house on Granville Road in Cambridge. Shea had called and found that Sami was in class until six o’clock. He parked outside the apartment building at fifteen minutes past five. He contemplated calling Brendan to invite him for a coffee to pass the time, but he decided against it at the last minute. He had noted the coldness in Brendan’s demeanour at Lawrence and he didn’t want to exacerbate the situation between them. Brendan wasn’t a dummy and had surely noticed that he was getting more interested in Moira than he should be. What the hell was he thinking? She was his best friend’s partner for God’s sake. Brendan was like a brother to him and he wasn’t about to do anything that would change that relationship. But every time he thought about Brendan lying in the same bed as Moira he felt like punching the wall. He decided to go for a short walk. His feet led him to the small café at the corner of Concord Avenue and Walden Street where he had often met Brendan when they were students. He went inside, bought a coffee and took a seat beside the window. He was thinking about Ram and the vicissitudes of life when he looked up and saw Brendan walking down Concord Avenue. His first reaction was to pick up a menu and hide behind it, but instead he went to the door and called out.