by Derek Fee
‘We’ve learned nothing new,’ Shea said. ‘We’re in a blind alley.’
‘Not true,’ Moira said as she took her seat in the car. ‘We have at least two fresh leads. Why was Gardiner looking at property in Florida? The very place where he disappeared. And why did he change his secretary six months ago?’
‘What do we do now?’ Shea asked.
‘We make two phone calls and we head back to the office in Concord.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
S omething had clicked in Moira’s head. As soon as they were on the way to Concord, she phoned Ricky and Carmichael. There was bad news on both fronts. Ricky wasn’t sure that he could identify the website that Gardiner had been using. It would be tricky, but he would give it a try. Carmichael had no idea who her predecessor had been. There was not a single slip of paper left at the secretary’s desk to identify who had sat there previously and she was sure that Gardiner never mentioned his former employee. Moira had a twitchy feeling about someone who didn’t appear to leave a trace.
Just over an hour later they pulled up outside Gardiner’s office in Concord. Shea used the keys to gain access and they made their way up the stairs and into the office. ‘There’s got to be something,’ Moira said as they entered. ‘The secretary must have had some kind of employment number.’
‘She, or he, should have a social security number,’ Shea said. ‘As well as a tax identification number.’
Moira looked at her two companions. ‘Let’s get searching.’
Two hours later they reconvened in Gardiner’s office. ‘I don’t understand it.’ Shea said. ‘There a complete employee file for Carmichael and for this woman Wanderly who worked here over a year ago but nothing for the secretary in between.’
‘I don’t think it’s an accident,’ Moira said. ‘Something happened to turn Gardiner from Honest John into the central character in a criminal conspiracy. And that someone may have been the secretary whose identity has been erased.’
‘Shades of Mr X,’ Brendan said under his breath.
‘Nobody is completely invisible,’ Moira said. ‘There’s always some kind of trace. She went inside to Gardiner’s office. His agenda for the past year was missing, but the one for the year before was there. She shuffled through the pages. There were notations for lunches and dinners, appointments with the doctor and dentist and most importantly, according to the capital letters to denote it, games of golf. There were meetings with clients at their offices but none at Gardiner’s office, another dead end. She re-joined Shea and Brendan. ‘Wait here.’ She immediately went downstairs.
Faith was sitting behind her small desk in the shop beneath the office. She gave a small smile of recognition as Moira entered. ‘Welcome,’ she stood up. ‘I hope you’ve come back to purchase something this fine day.’ Faith had decided to dress in a red, beaded Moroccan djellaba she had bought on a visit to Marrakesh ten years previously. She liked to say that she wore it because it hid a multitude of sins.
Moira loved the enthusiasm that the New Age adherents put into their daily greetings. ‘Thank you, how have you been since my last visit?’ She examined a collection of Buddhist items and other objects that looked like drug paraphernalia. ‘You have some interesting stuff here.’ She fingered a pipe that might be useful if one knew someone who smoked crack. She continued to browse. ‘How long have you worked here, Faith?’
‘Like forever.’
Moira would have preferred a number of years, but she lived in hope that forever meant more than six months. She picked up a reclining Buddha made of some kind of heavy plastic. It had a white sticker on the bottom indicating that the price was ten dollars. The sticker was strategically located close to the words ‘Made in China’. ‘This is interesting.’ She turned the statue over in her hands and wondered how many million had been in the container shipped from China. ‘I’ll take it.’ She put as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could muster.
‘Good choice.’ Faith took the plastic statue from Moira and carried it reverently to her desk. ‘You wouldn’t believe the number of people who come in here and leave without buying a thing.’
‘I can’t fathom why.’ Moira joined her at the desk. ‘It was Mr Gardiner’s former secretary that suggested I buy something here.’
‘You mean that nice Latino lady.’ Faith was busy parcelling Moira’s purchase.
‘Yes, the one before the black lady.’ Moira took ten dollars from her purse. She decided it was an investigation expense and she would claim the money back from Shea. After all, he was bankrolling the investigation and the Buddha was an expense.
Faith finished her packing and moved close to Moira. ‘I probably shouldn’t say this, but I think she might have been interested in drugs.’
‘Really,’ Moira feigned surprise.
Faith’s mouth was almost at Moira’s ear. ‘She bought some pipes that might be used to smoke dope.’
‘You don’t say.’ Moira continued with her surprised look. ‘I didn’t meet her myself. We only spoke over the phone, but I hear that she was pretty.’
‘Pretty my ass,’ Faith removed a mobile phone from some hidden pocket in her djellaba. ‘She was smokin’ hot.’ She opened her phone and her fingers moved quickly on the screen. She flicked through a series of photos. ‘I took a photo of her in here one day. I was going to use it as a publicity shot on my website. I thought it might get a few guys to visit if they thought they might run into her.’ She stopped at a photo and showed it to Moira.
Smokin’ hot had been an apt description of the woman whose upper body and head appeared in the photo. Moira first reaction was ‘Are they real?’ and she could only imagine a similar reaction from the average male who might see the woman in the flesh. ‘Wow!’ Moira said. ‘That would make a great publicity shot.’ The woman was possibly Mexican. She was fine featured and had flowing tresses of dark brown hair. Moira wondered how many words per minute she could type and realised that most employers wouldn’t give a damn.
‘She went apeshit when she saw that I took her photo,’ Faith said. ‘Insisted that I delete it immediately in front of her. I gotta say that I cheated a little. Just before I deleted the photo, I sent it to myself by e-mail. She took the phone from me and checked that the photo wasn’t there, but she never checked the emails. I don’t know why I kept it, but I did.’
Moira took the mobile phone from Faith. ‘You’re an excellent photographer. It looks almost professional. The composition is outstanding.’ Moira was talking shit, but she knew Faith would be easily taken in. ‘My partner is a photographer. Would you mind if I sent this photo to myself and showed it to him? I think he might be interested in talking to you.’
Faith’s round face could scarcely contain her smile. ‘OK, as long as he agrees not to steal it.’
Moira’s fingers moved quickly to write her e-mail and press send. She didn’t want Faith to change her mind. She checked that the e-mail had arrived on her phone before passing Faith’s phone back to her. ‘There’s no question of that, but he might want to look at other photos that you’ve taken.’
‘That would be so cool.’
‘I’ll be in touch.’ Moira turned to leave.
‘Wait.’ Faith picked up the package from her desk. ‘Don’t go without your Buddha.’
Moira slapped her head with the palm of her hand. ‘Where’s my head today. I would have kicked myself if I’d forgotten the Buddha.’ She held out her hand and took the small package. The best ten dollars of Shea’s money I’ve ever spent, she thought.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
M oira pushed open the front door of office and found Brendan and Shea sitting on what had been Carmichael’s desk discussing American football. They looked more like the best friends they were. She tossed that package containing the reclining Buddha at Shea. ‘You owe me ten dollars.’
Shea unwrapped the package and looked at the plastic reclining Buddha. ‘You paid ten bucks for this piece of shit?’
She stood be
fore the two men. ‘I needed to buy something.’
‘What about a singing bowl?’ Brendan asked.
‘I didn’t want to stretch Shea’s expense bill.’ Moira took out her phone. ‘I think we may have found Mr X, but I don’t want you boys to get too excited when you see who it might be.’ She opened the photo and turned the phone so that Brendan and Shea could see it.
Shea climbed off the desk and took the phone from Moira’s hand. He was looking at one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen and he had been on dates with some very beautiful women. ‘That’s Mr X. It explains a hell of a lot that was difficult to accept.’ Shea passed the phone to Brendan with reluctance.
‘Holy cow!’ Brendan said. ‘Who the hell is that?’
Moira was smiling at the reaction of the two men. ‘That is the lady whom Carmichael replaced.’
Shea took the phone back for another look. ‘Jean should maybe have taken a little more interest in what was happening in Concord. I’ve just thrown my assumption that Greg wasn’t having an affair out the window. There are men who would kill for a night with a woman who looks like this.’
Moira stared at Shea. Men are so bloody fickle. Show them a pair of big boobs and some flowing tresses on a beautiful face and they immediately swoon. ‘So I assume we’re not going to show this photo to your cousin.’
Shea shook his head. It wasn’t time to burst her bubble concerning the faithfulness of her husband. It was very possible that Greg wasn’t abducted or dead. He was with this woman somewhere, sitting on twenty million dollars. ‘Do we have a name?’
Moira put the phone in her pocket. ‘Unfortunately, we don’t. She’s been very careful not to leave any trace.’
Brendan looked at the other two. ‘Are we assuming that this woman was the brains behind the scam run by Gardiner?’
‘It’s a bit early to make that assumption,’ Moira said. The words were barely out of her mouth when she thought that she had spoken too soon. The woman was the one who hadn’t left a trace. Gardiner was known to all the people who had been scammed. If they wanted to even the score, he was the one they would go after. ‘But I think we should work on that basis until it’s proven false,’ she added quickly.
‘We need a name,’ Shea said.
‘This was a very well worked scam,’ Brendan said. ‘Twenty million dollars has been collected and probably laundered. The marks won’t seek redress from the law and the perpetrators have disappeared. It wasn’t the first dance for whoever set this project up. That means that there is probably a record of this woman somewhere. The police have very advanced facial recognition software and the FBI’s national criminal database contains the records of every criminal conviction. If this woman was ever picked up for a crime, she’s in there somewhere. What we need is a mechanism to have those records searched facially. That’s not possible for the public.’
Moira and Shea looked at each other and then burst out laughing.
‘What are you two laughing at?’ Brendan asked.
‘We were probably thinking the same thing,’ Moira said still laughing.
‘Which is?’ Brendan was a little pissed off that there appeared to be a growing psychic connection between his partner and his best friend.
Shea stopped laughing. He could see that Brendan was not happy with their hilarity. ‘You remember the guy we introduced to you at my condo?’
‘The one who never spoke a word but kept working the keyboard of the laptop.’
‘That guy can probably access facial recognition software and can probably hack into the FBI’s database.’
‘Does this guy want to spend the rest of his life behind bars?’ Brendan said. ‘Hacking the FBI is not for the faint-hearted.’
Neither Shea nor Moira liked the picture of a young Ricky Sin spending a large part of his life in jail because of them. And Ricky might not be the only one going to jail.
‘Yeah,’ Shea said. ‘Maybe hacking the FBI isn’t the smartest move.’ He looked at Brendan. ‘What do you suggest?’
Brendan had been waiting for that question. He was enjoying his new role as the expert adviser to Shea’s investigation. It annoyed him that he was giving his expertise free of charge, but then so was Moira. ‘You and I know some cops. Maybe we can convince one to help us out here.’
‘I already tapped Mike O’Malley to get the victim file from Miami PD,’ Shea said. ‘And he wasn’t particularly enthusiastic.’
‘Was there money in question with your request?’ Brendan asked.
‘No,’ Shea answered.
‘Then get out your billfold,’ Brendan said. ‘Despite what you might be led to believe from watching Blue Bloods, plenty of cops are motivated by money.’
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
M oira wasn’t overly impressed when Shea pulled up outside a non-descript green-coloured establishment on Broadway in South Boston. Shea had phoned Detective Sergeant O’Malley who had suggested that they meet at Whitey’s. There was no sign over the front of the building to indicate that it was indeed Whitey’s but the blue Bud Light sign in one window and red Budweiser sign in the other said that it was some kind of tavern. They pushed in the white door and entered a dingy bar that was trapped in the fifties. A green sweatshirt over the bar declared ‘Boston’s Best Dive Bar’ and Moira certainly wasn’t about to argue with that statement. She noticed a photograph of three men on the wall. She had recently seen the film Black Mass about the life of infamous Boston gangster James ‘Whitey’ Bulger. One of the men in the photo bore an uncanny resemblance to the film’s central character played by Johnny Depp. There were three patrons at the bar, none of whom looked at the new arrivals. She followed Shea and Brendan to the table at the rear of the bar where O’Malley sat with a pint of Guinness in front of him.
‘Make yourselves at home.’ O’Malley pointed at three empty chairs. He looked over at the bar. ‘Tim, pints of Guinness all round for my friends.’ He looked at Moira. ‘Whitey’s isn’t big on cocktails.’
‘Guinness is fine.’ She pulled up a chair and sat down.
‘Here we are, back where we all started,’ O’Malley said when they were seated. ‘The financial genius, the Harvard professor and the lowly cop.’
‘You should be careful, Mike,’ Shea said. ‘That chip might fall off your shoulder. Where we all start isn’t where we all finish, and that goes for you too.’ There were thousands of taverns in Boston and he had been wondering why O’Malley had nominated Whitey’s for their meeting. Now he knew. The world was full of people who looked at someone else and wondered why is he rich, successful or just plain talented and I’m not. The majority of the begrudgers will never work out that the person they envy so much has probably given up a lot in his or her life for the success they have achieved. Shea had been on the road to sacrificing his life for money when the FBI derailed his engine. It took quite a while for him to recognise that they had probably done him a favour.
The barman deposited three pints of Guinness on the table.
‘How’s it goin’, Tim?’ Shea asked.
‘Not too bad, Frank,’ Tim said. ‘I heard you was away in Devens for a while.’
‘I did three of a nickel,’ Shea said.
‘You’re lookin’ good, Frank, lost some weight. You too Brendan, ain’t seen your dad much.’
‘He doesn’t drink anymore,’ Brendan said.
‘Smart guy.’ Tim turned and went back to the bar.
Shea looked at Moira and saw the question on her face. ‘We were at school together.’
O’Malley took a slug of Guinness and smiled. ‘We was all at school together until they figured out Frank was different. What can I do for you this time?’
Moira took out her phone and brought up the photo of the woman before passing the phone to O’Malley. ‘We need to find this woman.’
O’Malley examined the photo, whistling softly as he did so. ‘We all need to find a woman like this.’ He looked at Shea and Brendan. ‘Do you think they’re real?’
>
Moira frowned. Although she had been in male-oriented bars like Whitey’s in Belfast, she wasn’t feeling comfortable. She wanted the meeting with O’Malley to move on from drooling over the photo of Ms X to how they could find the woman’s name.
‘This about the Gardiner disappearance?’ O’Malley said, still looking at the photo.
‘It’s the secretary,’ Shea said simply.
‘You’re kiddin’ me,’ O’Malley laughed. ‘All that and shorthand too! Where do I come into it?’
‘We don’t have a name,’ Shea said.
‘She was employed by Gardiner,’ O’Malley said. ‘Try social security.’
‘There are no employment records,’ Moira said. ‘No bank payment, no trace whatsoever of her, other than the fact that she worked in his office.’
O’Malley waved at Tim. ‘Double Midleton, I think I’m about to be able to afford it. What did you have in mind?’
‘We think that she might have been a hustler,’ Brendan said.
‘Figures,’ O’Malley said, more or less to himself.
Brendan took a mouthful of Guinness. ‘You could use the photo with facial recognition software and put it through the FBI database. It’s an even bet that she’s in there somewhere.’
Tim arrived and deposited a double Midleton in front of O’Malley. He received a smile from the policeman.
‘Yeah,’ O’Malley finished his Guinness. ‘She might be in there and I could lose my job findin’ out.’
‘Who’s to know?’ Shea said.
