Death in Nostalgia City

by Mark S. Bacon

  “I told you about his car being searched. Bedrosian mentioned your name again.”

  “My name?”

  “Just asked Kevin if he’d seen you.”

  “They know about me, but they won’t expect someone checking them out from the inside. What’s Max doing?”

  “He gave Clyde one more week to come up with evidence.”

  Chapter 45

  “Jennifer?”

  Kate heard the name but hesitated a second before she turned around. She’d have to start responding faster to her new identity.

  “Can you spell me for my breaks tomorrow? Cindy normally does it,” said the wide-eyed brunette. “She won’t be back ’til next week.”

  “Sure, Rachel,” Kate said, “if Judy says it’s okay. She’s the boss.”

  Rachel was the friendly, if slightly ditsy, receptionist Kate had just met in the FedPat Special Investigations Unit office.

  Tired after an unrewarding and draining day, Kate walked out of the office and looked for her rental car in the parking lot. That morning she had met with the head of the temp agency, filled out the paper work, and been assigned to work at FedPat. The assignment she received, however, was not what she expected or wanted. She wondered how Lyle would react.

  ***

  “You’re not working downtown?” Lyle said when they met at her apartment that evening.

  “The head of the agency--that Mrs. Jackson--tried all she could, but FedPat didn’t need anyone downtown right away. It was take a temp job in Peabody, or wait a week.”

  “Not your fault. Trouble is, most of the big shots--especially Bedrosian--work in Boston.” Lyle looked disappointed but not angry. His dark eyebrows sagged. “Shit.”

  “I do have a little good news.” Kate saw Lyle look up. “But only just a little. I’m working in the investigations office. I thought if I couldn’t get downtown right away, at least I could be in an office that had something to do with investigators.”

  “Good thought! Did you just land a lucky assignment?”

  “Heck no. They had me in data entry. A dead end. But I just had a little conversation with my boss, Mr. Vaughan--” Kate flashed a provocative smile, “--and he was happy to help me transfer.”

  “I told you you’d be good at this.”

  “This is the department that hires the private eye companies. At the reception desk I found a list of the companies they work with and their addresses, phone numbers, and account numbers. Topaz is listed.”

  “We’re getting a little closer.”

  “Hope so, but FedPat is really security conscious. Paranoid would be more like it. Everything has a password. To use any computer, copy machine, or even scanner, you need a password. And they change passwords all the time.”

  “Do they give passwords to temps?”

  “That’s the funny part. They’re so overprotected, lots of people ignore the rules. They swap passwords and write them on machines so you can use them. And they also have surveillance cameras in all the public areas.”

  “I remember the cameras,” Lyle said.

  Chapter 46

  By Thursday afternoon, June twenty-third, Lyle was running out of energy and ideas. He knew little more than when he arrived in Boston the second time. He had spent the morning staking out Topaz again and learned nothing. Yesterday Renke had visited Bedrosian downtown, but no sign of Renke today.

  After checking in with Kate on the phone, he knew her Thursday wasn’t any better than his. She was stuck in another pointless day of clerical work.

  For more than three days, she’d been eavesdropping on conversations and probing computer files while constantly looking over her shoulder, all to no avail. The Fourth of July weekend celebrations started in eight days. Kate would need to get back to the park. It was time to talk to Bedrosian. Lyle had no other option. Was he the mastermind behind the sabotage? If not, he surely knew who was. Max wanted Lyle to lay low, but what did they have to lose now?

  In his head, Lyle ran through several approaches he might take. Bedrosian wouldn’t be expecting him so he’d have surprise on his side. Should he tell Bedrosian they knew all about the hired muscle and were ready to talk to federal prosecutors? Or should he pretend he didn’t suspect Bedrosian and try to trick him into saying something about the sabotage that he shouldn’t know about?

  He could always threaten him later if that didn’t work. Sort of a one-man bad-cop, good-cop routine.

  ***

  Lyle marched into Jason Bedrosian’s sumptuous office suite. A well-dressed secretary at a glass-topped desk offered him an artificially sincere greeting. Her smile looked as if she’d selected it that morning from a Mrs. Potato Head box and stuck it on.

  “I’m sorry Mr. Bedrosian is not in today,” she said, even before Lyle had told her his name. “He’s not expected back until the middle of next week. He’s out of town--out of state actually.”

  Lyle stared for a moment in disbelief. He took the elevator to the president’s office. There, another secretary told him that Shaw too, was gone for several days.

  Lyle had pumped himself up to wrestle--verbally or otherwise--with Bedrosian and now he had nowhere to direct his energy. He should have been upset, but he wasn’t. Had he just exhausted their last chance to nail FedPat before time ran out?

  Instead of driving back to meet Kate, he strolled along the streets of Boston. He passed famous buildings--landmarks of freedom--dating back to the Revolution. Our history was a violent one from the beginning. Guns, killing. He thought about the Vietnam War and how his brother had been drafted. On School Street, he stopped in front of a statue of Benjamin Franklin. Where would he find the statue of Robert McNamara, he wondered--or Donald Rumsfeld for that matter. Lyle glanced at the rubber band on his wrist. No need to pluck it. He wasn’t anxious, just introspective.

  Meandering back to his car, he pulled out his cell phone and called Earl. Gloom had settled over the park. Earl said he was doing his best to keep things upbeat on the air, but employees were jittery or depressed.

  Kate called him when she was on the way home and they met at her apartment.

  Lyle waited in the living room while Kate changed clothes for dinner. On a table, Kate had several NC file folders. One read: Plaza Construction: Confidential. Naturally, he opened it.

  ***

  When Kate walked back in the room, Lyle was leaning over the table and saying something to himself.

  Before she could say anything, one of her cell phones chimed. She fumbled in her purse and first pulled out her Boston burner phone. It was silent. Then she grabbed the Arizona phone.

  “Max, I just got in. Is everything--what’s wrong?” She stood in the center of the room listening and replying mostly in single syllables, the phone plastered to her ear. “That bastard,” she said. Long pause. “Maybe he’s desperate. What’d you tell him?”

  Even from a distance, Lyle could hear Max snapping out his reply, peppered with obscenities.

  “That’s okay,” Kate said. “Yes, he was right. I picked up some stuff on FedPat today. No, never mind how I got it. We’ll explain everything soon. Right now, we need to figure out what to do next. Yes, Lyle’s right here. We’ll call you.”

  Kate put away her phone and turned to Lyle. “Bedrosian called Max this morning and offered him a deal. He told him if Max agreed to hand over majority control of the park, he’d give Max a mountain of FedPat stock and promise not to lay off any management staff--including Max--for at least six months.”

  “That shithead. Did he think he could bribe Max?”

  “I dunno. Max sank all his money into the park. Bedrosian said if Max agreed to a smooth transition, he could save the park any more bad publicity. He didn’t say he was causing the sabotage, but that was clearly the message “

  “I doubt he’s bluffing. Guess Max doesn’t think FedPat’s his ally now.”

  “Bedrosian told him if there was another accident NC wouldn’t be quite so valuable. FedPat’s attorneys would simply ta
ke Nostalgia City away.”

  “I thought you said Max could stall a takeover,” Lyle said.

  “If there’s another incident--or if anyone else is killed--Nostalgia City would be a ghost town. Then Max’d be broke and Bedrosian could do whatever he wanted.”

  “I’m guessing he won’t do anything else right now. If he sinks the park, it would be worthless to him or anyone. But at least Bedrosian’s out in the open. Now if we could just prove he hired Renke to wreck the park.”

  “Did you see Bedrosian today?” Kate asked.

  “No.”

  ***

  A half hour later, they were walking to a table at a Mexican restaurant. As Kate walked in front of him, he admired her hips, her legs, the way she moved. There was something classical about her, in addition to the obvious.

  When they got their drinks--Lyle had iced tea--Kate took a sip of her Margarita, licking the salt on the rim. “I snooped in a lot of computers and files today, but I couldn’t find our link. Nobody in investigations seems to communicate with Bedrosian. Too many rungs up the ladder. I’ll keep snooping tomorrow.”

  “We don’t have much time left, do we? You’ll have to fly home soon.”

  “The grand opening’s in just a week, but tomorrow could be promising.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m working with Mary Fish, the assistant to Rich Kovak, an executive VP. He’s one of the top two or three people in Peabody. Half the departments, including investigations, report to him. I’ll poke around his office and see what I can find.”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  “It’s not dangerous. What’s the worst they can do, fire me for looking at files I’m not supposed to see?”

  “Somebody besides Bedrosian may be involved in this.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out, isn’t it?” Kate paused. “Okay, I see that look. I’ll be careful. You sound more worried about me than Bruce is. Of course, he doesn’t know everything that’s going on. When I call him tonight, I’ll spare him the details.”

  When she mentioned Bruce’s name, Lyle got a mental picture of the weight-room Romeo. Was he jealous of Kate’s boyfriend? How stupid was that?

  “I found someone you can talk to tomorrow,” Kate said.

  “Who?”

  “Name’s Jeff Innis. He’s an insurance investigator. He used to work for FedPat, but was fired. After he left, he got a job working for our friend Joe Renke. But when FedPat found out Innis had gone to work at Topaz, shit hit the fan.”

  Lyle perked up when he heard the name Renke.

  “Topaz was told,” Kate said, “that Innis couldn’t work on anything related to FedPat. A short time later, Innis was fired from Topaz. This all happened about two months ago.”

  “That would be before the first sabotage.”

  “Innis is threatening to sue FedPat for getting him fired at Topaz.”

  “So how do I find him?”

  “I copied down his address and phone number. I saw an old case file of his today and somebody made a joke about him. I just played dumb and asked questions.”

  “Was that difficult, playing dumb?”

  “’Course not. I’m a blonde.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Oh, something else. Senior officers are going to be gone for several days at a retreat. That’s probably why you missed Bedrosian.”

  “A retreat?”

  “Every year the senior execs get together with the board members for a planning session. They’re meeting out in the boondocks. Some remote lodge in northern Maine.”

  “How long are they gone?”

  “The meeting starts sometime Saturday. They don’t get back in the office until next Tuesday or Wednesday.”

  “If all the execs are gone, it could be an opening. Can you make an excuse to visit headquarters?”

  “Maybe, but--”

  “You have to get back to Arizona.”

  Kate nodded.

  Lyle silently munched a tortilla chip. He reached for another then stopped. “That’s why Bedrosian called Max. He’s going to this big corporate retreat. He wanted to be able to tell the board that he had Nostalgia City in his pocket.”

  “Could be. He’s probably playing politics, trying to win over more board members.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Kate said as they walked out of the restaurant. “On the phone Max said you were right about FedPat.”

  “Was he surprised?”

  “Maybe. But he said he knew he was right to bring you into this. Says he trusts your experience and your judgment.”

  “Sure he does.”

  Chapter 47

  “I really appreciate your help,” Mary Fish told Kate Friday morning. “Rachel helps me sometimes, when she can.”

  Mary Fish, administrative assistant to the FedPat executive vice president, was in her fifties. She had frizzy brown hair streaked with gray and large brown eyes--her best feature.

  “These special reports always take time,” Mary said. “He likes hard copies to supplement his Power Point presentations.” She lowered her voice, though her boss, Rich Kovak, couldn’t possibly hear her from the far end of his large, adjoining office. “And usually he decides he wants other articles or statistics at the last minute.”

  “So he’s going off to Maine, too?” Kate asked. She and Mary stood at opposite ends of a long counter in Mary’s office, collating reports and inserting them into binders. Mary was attired for the executive suite with a stylish dress and jacket that nearly camouflaged her middle-age spread.

  “All senior VPs and above go every year. I think.” She kept her voice low. “It’s an excuse to get away from the office, to drink, and go fishing. But this time may be different.”

  “Oh?”

  “The CEO is going to retire next year and the board’ll have to pick a successor. Mr. Kovak says the people in line for president will be showing off for the board members.”

  “Is he one of them? Is that what these are for?” Kate asked, indicating the notebooks.

  “Oh, no. The three top people work at corporate.”

  “I’ve heard people talking. One of them is Bedrosian. Is that his name?”

  Mary made a face. “Yes, he’s one of them. We all hope he doesn’t get it.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Mary leaned close to Kate. “He pits people against each other. They brought him in here to help the company boost profits. He started encouraging people to make anonymous reports on employees who wasted company money.”

  Kate shook her head. “Scary to think of him as CEO.”

  As they finished assembling the binders, Mary slid the last one into a box. “We’re done. I’ll tell Mr. K the books are ready. Then I’m going home.”

  “Going home early?”

  Kate was surprised. Mary had been with her virtually every minute that morning and she had not had time to spy.

  “Mr. K will be off for Maine now. He gives me a day or two off when he leaves for these meetings. I don’t have to come back ’til Tuesday.” Mary arranged a stack of papers and folders on the counter. “These have to be organized and re-filed. I’ll do it next week.”

  “I can do it for you. I told them in investigations that I’d probably be here all morning.”

  “That’s sweet of you.”

  After a few minutes, Kovak picked up his binders and left. Kate wished Mary a good weekend as she walked out.

  “Just turn out the lights and close my door when you go, okay?” Mary said.

  With Mary gone, the office was still. Kate listened. She could make out the sound of far-off voices and the low hum of Mary’s computer. She didn’t know whether to shut the door or not. She decided to leave it open, for the time being, as she searched Mary’s files.

  At the back of the office, at a right angle to the work counter, stood a tall lateral file cabinet. Kate started with the top drawer first so she didn’t have to bend down. Mary didn’t exactly keep her tightly packed files neatly
organized. Kate couldn’t discern any order to the arrangement and she had to stick her fingers inside and spread the folders apart to scan the contents. After several days of searching through, files she’d become an efficient office sleuth. She worked quickly, looking for correspondence files or anything else that might relate to outside PI firms.

  She found nothing promising in the top file so she pushed it closed with a thud and pulled open the next drawer. It was no better organized than the previous one. When she pulled open the last drawer she had to squat down to comb through the folders. She found a file labeled “Contractors -- Legal.” When she yanked it out of the drawer, pages popped out and slid across the floor.

  She reached out to gather them up and suddenly realized someone was in the room with her. She glanced around and saw shoes right behind her. Someone was looking over her shoulder.

  ***

  Jeff Innis opened the door to his apartment as if he was expecting trouble. He jerked it open and stood so the door hid most of his body. Lyle almost reached for his nonexistent holster.

  “You Lyle Deming?” Innis asked.

  Lyle nodded and Innis stepped back, opening the door wider.

  Earlier that morning Lyle had called Innis and told him that he was an investigator and wanted to ask him some questions about FedPat. Without giving away too much, he’d been able to arouse Innis’s curiosity.

  Innis offered Lyle the couch while he sat on the edge of a chair opposite. He wore a sport shirt tucked into casual slacks. He didn’t appear to have a gun, something Lyle unconsciously looked for.

  In his late thirties or early forties, Innis was thin, but looked able to handle himself. He had an almost gaunt face and close-cropped hair.

  “So, why’re you investigating FedPat?”