“Long story. I represent a corporate client that’s interested in FedPat and its relationship with Topaz Investigations.”
“Why ask me?”
“Since you worked for both companies, I thought you might be able to give me a little insight, especially about Topaz.”
Innis had not relaxed his body. “How’d you find me?”
“I’m a good investigator.”
“You a cop?”
Lyle chuckled and shook his head. “Nope. Not any more, thank God. You’re pretty good, too.”
Innis leaned back in his chair. “Look, I’m suing the assholes at FedPat. I’m not supposed to be talking to anyone about this.”
“This has nothing to do with your being fired. I’m working for an out-of-state corporation that’s getting screwed by FedPat. We think they’re using Topaz to help them. Can you tell me something about Topaz?
“What do you want to know?”
“What kind of work does Topaz do for FedPat?”
“Investigate claims looking for fraud.”
“Individuals?”
“Sometimes, and businesses. Say someone is injured in an accident at work. They tell the company they’re disabled. Can’t work. So we follow them around for a while, watch them play golf or go bowling. People’re stupid. They think we can’t check up on them.”
Innis had an accent Lyle couldn’t place. Boston, but with a rough edge to it.
“What else do they do?”
“Surveillance, background checks, whatever. When I worked at FedPat we used to use Topaz--and other companies--to help out when we got swamped. FedPat managed the cases. Topaz did legwork.”
“How about breaking legs?”
“You think Topaz does that?”
Lyle just looked at Innis. He noticed two large brown moles below his left ear.
“I didn’t have nothin’ to do with that. I just worked on legal evidence. Joe liked his guys to do whatever was necessary, but I never did that. And I didn’t know he was like that when I went to work there. You working for him?”
“No. I’m working for a corporation, like I told you.”
“Well, you know what? I don’t care if Joe sent you here. He already knows what I think of him. He fired me because FedPat told him to. He’s a lying son of a bitch.” Innis got up.
“Mr. Innis, take it easy.” Lyle raised a hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m not checking up on your personal situation. Keep all that to yourself. I just want to know a little more about Topaz and Joe Renke.”
Innis walked toward the front door. Lyle stood up but didn’t move. He had a hunch. “Were you a cop, too?”
Innis turned around. “Yeah. Long time ago. In Worcester.” He walked slowly toward the kitchen. “You want some coffee?”
Chapter 48
“What’re you doing in here?”
Kate looked up to see who was standing over her. When she saw Rachel’s smile, she grinned back at the receptionist, gathered up the folder she was reaching for, and stood up. “I’m finishing up some filing for Mary. We did notebooks for Mr. K.”
“That’s right, Mary told me. I was too busy.” Rachel wore a dress that was a little slinky for the office. Maybe the investigators liked it. She had an engaging smile. “I’m on break now. Can you cover the desk for me?”
“Uh, sure.” Kate didn’t want to tell Rachel that Mary was gone. She might lose the chance to dig into Mary’s and Rich Kovak’s computers. She stuffed the file she was holding into the drawer, pushed it shut with a foot, and followed Rachel out of Mary’s office.
“Mr. K’s lights are off,” Rachel said. “Is he gone already?”
“Not sure.”
Kate didn’t like this line of conversation. Fortunately, she didn’t have to pursue it because Rachel headed down the hall and Kate stopped at the reception desk. As the minutes ticked away, Kate hoped her boss didn’t happen by to ask if she was finished helping Mary. To her relief, in fifteen minutes, Rachel rushed back into the office and Kate headed back down the hall.
Mary’s door was still open. It looked as if the executive vice president’s assistant was still at work. Kate quickly retrieved the contractors file she’d found and started going through the pages. It contained lists of companies that did business with FedPat, the present status of each company, and reports of complaints and lawsuits. She noticed the name Topaz. This could be useful, but she’d have to copy the file, and the nearest copy machine was around the corner.
She put the file on the desk and sat in front of Mary’s computer. Mary had showed her the drawer where she kept the current passwords.
“It’s so damn confusing,” Mary had said. “Some passwords change monthly, some don’t. You’re always being reminded to change your password. I write them all down here.”
Mary used the last names of old movie stars for her passwords and she kept track of them all, using names over again in a regular pattern. This month’s password was Bogart.
Kate hurried to click the search function. She punched in her search words, Topaz, Renke, and Bedrosian. She felt slightly nervous, but not as much as she would be when she sat in front of Kovak’s computer. That was next.
The search yielded several documents with Bedrosian’s name on them, a few with Topaz, none with Renke. She pulled out a flash drive, stuck it in a USB port and quickly copied all the files. She sent two of the most promising looking files to the printer. Without wasting time, she pulled out the flash drive, let the documents print, and walked into Kovak’s office, flipping on the light. Fortunately, anyone passing Mary’s office would have to lean inside to see if Kovak’s light was on.
Kate was glad that Mary also kept written track of Kovak’s passwords, and she opened his computer files as easily as if they were her own. This time her search routine paid dividends. She found more than two dozen documents with Bedrosian’s name, a few with Topaz, and two with Bedrosian and Renke.
She felt her heart beat faster. She could easily have been afraid, but she told herself the feeling wasn’t fear, just excitement. It was a technique she’d used before college basketball games, and it still kicked in when she needed it. She glanced up through the open door into Mary’s office, then back to the computer screen. Using her flash drive again, she copied the files. Unplugging the flash drive, she was about to log off the computer. But she couldn’t resist reading the documents that had both Bedrosian’s and Renke’s names. A few clicks and the email memo appeared on the screen.
Kate read rapidly, disappointed at first, then--there it was. She read it again to be sure. “Yes,” she said, banging the mouse on the desk.
The noise echoed in the empty room. Then another noise came from Mary’s office. She looked up. A man stood in the doorway.
“Can I help you?” Kate said, congratulating herself on her poise, not knowing how she managed it.
“I’m looking for Mr. Kovak,” the young man in a suit said. His voice was measured, his actions precise.
“He’s gone for the day.”
“He left already?”
“The retreat.”
“Yes, I know. I needed him to approve something for me.”
The young man held sheets of paper in his hand. He raised them up and shook them slightly for emphasis. As they talked, Kate closed the file she’d been looking at and prepared to log off the computer.
The young man took two steps into the office. “I don’t see Mary. Is she around?”
“Uh, no.”
He took another two steps into the office and the pleasant look faded from his face.
“Pardon me, but who are you and why are you into Mr. K’s computer?”
***
Lyle picked up a hot cup of coffee in Jeff Innis’s kitchen and headed back to the living room.
“So, about Renke’s strong-arm tactics,” Lyle said. “He’s been using them on my client’s people, big time, with serious injuries.”
“He’s been investigated for that kind of shit.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a FedPat case. We never suggested violence. Least I never did. No reason for it.”
“What’s his background?”
“Army. Special Forces. He always brought that up. Never told anyone his rank or even if he was honorably discharged.”
“You suspect something?”
“Didn’t at first, but one day two of us were doing surveillance. You know how that is. You spend hours and hours with nothing to do, so you talk. This other guy was telling me how he and Renke and some others did overseas work for a U.S. corporation.”
Innis ran a hand over the back of his neck and touched his moles with a finger. “Can’t remember the name of the company. They were competing to get a contract with a Latin-American government. Renke and his guys went down there to discourage competition.”
“What’d they do?”
“Guy who told me this was full of shit, but if even half of what he said was true, it means Renke’s men took out a few people and blamed it on local insurgents. Renke’s client got the contract.”
Lyle shook his head. “That kind of work pays pretty well, doesn’t it?”
“Renke’s saving up his dough. He talked about retiring to some island.”
“Out of reach of the U.S. Government.”
“Guess so.”
“If Renke’s such a bad dude, aren’t you lucky you’re out of there?”
Innis shrugged. “Yeah. That guy has a bad temper and he’s unpredictable.”
“Great combination.”
Innis let out a string of obscenities until his voice trailed off.
***
“I’m Jennifer,” Kate said. “Jennifer Norris. I’m helping Mary on a project.”
She stood, casually putting her hand--and the flash drive--into her pocket. Then she walked toward the man who now stood in the middle of Kovak’s office.
“Where do you work,” he asked, “administration? I haven’t seen you before.”
“I’m in SIU.” She used the company shorthand for Special Investigations Unit and tried to make it sound as if that explained everything.
“You were using Mr. Kovak’s computer.”
“Yes.”
“That violates our security. He doesn’t let anybody work on his computer.”
“Yes, he does. Mary sometimes gets information from it. Mary and I are collating reports. I needed the last page.” Kate pegged the young man as an aggressive corporate ladder-climber ready to step on her if it helped get him ahead.
“But--”
Kate walked past him into Mary’s office. She hoped she had the upper hand and could bully her way through if necessary. She paused next to Mary’s desk. The documents she had printed were sitting in the tray and the contractors’ file folder sat on the desk.
“Everybody is supposed to follow security procedures,” the young man said. “I don’t know who you are. I’m going to report--”
Just then, Kate’s boss walked by.
“Are you about done in here, Jennifer?” she asked.
“Just got a couple of things and I’m finished. I’ll be back before lunch.”
Kate’s boss obviously recognized her would-be accuser. “Hey Paul,” she said. “How you doin’?”
Paul glanced at Kate. “Okay, Judy. I just missed Mr. Kovak. I needed his signature.”
As her boss left, Kate turned her back on the young man. She busied herself at the counter. After a minute, she turned around. He was gone.
Immediately, Kate collected the documents she’d printed from Mary’s computer, then photocopied the file-cabinet pages she’d set aside.
She turned off the lights and followed a zigzag course through the labyrinth of offices and corridors. She wanted to get to the parking lot and her car without passing by the SIU office. She locked the flash drive and stack of memos in her glove box. She could hardly wait to show Lyle.
Chapter 49
Lyle sat in his car outside the copy shop, waiting for Kate to show up. He’d suggested they visit a copy place near downtown. It was Saturday morning June twenty-fifth, and he figured the horrendous Boston traffic would be slightly abated during the weekend. He wanted to have lunch in an historic part of town and show Kate where the FedPat building was.
On the phone, Kate had told him only that she “had the link” they were looking for and that she needed to scan, print, and burn a CD.
When Kate pulled up next to Lyle’s car, he looked over and tried to read her expression. She looked solemn. Then she winked at him and a broad smile transformed her face. She dangled her thumb drive from its chain as she got out of the car. “This is it,” she said. “Wish I had a portable printer. I’d like paper copies of some of this, but we’d still have to come here to scan the documents.”
A few minutes later--their heads side by side in front of a computer screen--they stared at a FedPat email. It was written by Rich Kovak, executive vice president, Peabody Operations, to Jason Bedrosian, Chief Operating Officer. Dated about three months before, the memo began by acknowledging Bedrosian’s request for a recommendation for a private investigation firm that was “willing to undertake unusual assignments” and do so with the “utmost confidentiality.”
The copy shop was empty except for a woman laboriously clicking a computer keyboard in another corner of the room. Lyle saw Kate glance over her shoulder anyway as they read. The essential portion of the memo said:
In response to your request, I have asked our investigation staff and they recommend Topaz Investigations. This is a local firm that has done considerable work for us before and I’m told would be able to handle an extended out-of-state assignment.
Topaz is a small firm and apparently its president, Joe Renke, does work for us himself. He’s handled difficult situations in the past, including the Summit, New Jersey case, so it seems he’s quite versatile. You should call Renke himself. His number is listed below.
“Looks good. Where’d you get it?”
“I copied it right off Rich Kovak’s computer. It ties Bedrosian to Renke. It’s our missing link, right?”
“I’ve seen Renke and he looks more like the missing link. I wish Kovak had been more specific.”
“I guess ‘out of state’ could mean Connecticut or New York.”
“Or Arizona. What else do you have?”
“There’s another email later than the first one.” Kate clicked the mouse and another inter-office message appeared on the screen.
Jason,
I’m going to be at corporate on Wednesday and would like to stop in and see you. I have recently heard about some problems with the investigations firm I referred you to in March.
I have serious concerns about this firm and its relationship with FedPat. We need to discuss Mr. Renke’s tactics and his current projects immediately.
Rich
“So, Kovak figured out that Renke’s a thug,” Lyle said. “According to Innis, violence is one of Renke’s regular services.”
“I wonder what Kovak said to Bedrosian.”
“Sounds like he was trying to warn him. Maybe he found out what Renke’s been doing.”
“Regardless, these memos tie Bedrosian to Topaz.”
“They’re perfect. You did a great job.”
“I’ve also got memos and reports about Topaz.” She showed Lyle the printed copies. “We need to scan these. One of the reports mentions that New Jersey case. I think Joe may have used, shall we say, unconventional means to persuade a policy holder to settle a case out of court.”
“That’s Renke.”
“I want to print out copies of the emails, scan the reports, and then make a backup CD of everything.”
***
A half hour later they were sauntering along a broad sidewalk in Quincy Market, an open-air shopping and dining area near the harbor. The air carried the scent of mustard, suntan lotion, and the sea. “What’s our next move?” Kate asked.
; “I’d like to confront Bedrosian right now with the evidence we have.”
“That’d be a little difficult.”
“I know. He’s in...where?”
“The middle of the north woods in Maine.”
“The retreat.”
“They go every year to this isolated lodge. Apparently, you have to fly a puddle jumper then drive for an hour or so. There’s no phone service in the cabins and cell phones don’t even work up there.”
“We can’t wait for them to come back. There must be something we can do.” He stared at the crowd of wandering vacationers carrying shopping bags, cameras, cold drinks, and children. “If we just had a little more proof,” he said, “we could go to the Feds or the district attorney.”
“We ought to talk to Max. Maybe we already have enough for his attorneys to deal with.”
“At least we emailed a copy of the evidence back to Arizona. Just in case.”
“I need to get back there myself.”
Lyle didn’t want to think about that. He and Kate flowed with the crowds toward the waterfront where sailboats glided across the bay. He stopped to take a picture for a Japanese family posed in front of a boat. When he finished, he turned and looked at Kate. She was leaning against a piling and trying in vain to keep her hair from blowing. A golden cascade of hair caressed the side of her face. They walked to the end of Boston’s famous Long Wharf then headed back. Lyle glanced at the sleek catamaran excursion boat moored at the dock. Beantown to P-town said a sign on the ticket booth. A few steps farther along he saw a street vendor and bought two ice cream bars.
“You don’t have your rubber band today,” Kate said, pointing her ice cream at Lyle’s wrist. “What’s it for?”
“To help me relax, get rid of stress. It broke yesterday. I’m living dangerously.”
“Speaking of stress...’
Death in Nostalgia City Page 20
