''Oh, for God sake,'' the man muttered. ''Tell him we've got everything straightened out. They've all gone through the system without a hitch. You tell him if he has any more questions to call me directly. I don't talk want to talk to clerks about this. Maybe I'll tell him myself. Put him on.''
''Mr. Walsh called from his car.'' Kathleen adlibbed. ''He's not in the office right now. I'll tell him -''
The connection was broken rudely, but Kathleen had what she wanted. Lionel stumbled upon invoices from Grossman's division that assigned city costs to other Tysco clients. The mayor's incredibly frugal budget, the foundation of his campaign platform, was a sham if this was happening at other suppliers.
''Let's see who's next on the list.''
Enervated she dialed the next again and got an answering machine attached to a private number. Kathleen compared it to her master list. From the prefix it seemed to be a private number within Corpraclean, janitorial services.
She began to dial again but the other line rang before she could finish.
''O'Doul & Associates.''
''Hi, sweetheart.''
''Michael. I just talked to that man who was at Gerry's funeral. Grossman. The guy from Tysco?''
''Funny you should mention him.'' He was excited and Kathleen was all ears. ''Grossman heads up the food service division. They supply the city. I got the billing code for the city and cross referenced automatic purchases for the city and other clients. Guess what?''
''The city bills have been assigned to other large clients where the charges would go unnoticed.''
''Exactly. They've been buried in billing that goes out to other big corporations and institutions. We supply a ton of them. Airlines, schools, hospitals. How many middle managers or clerks do you know that check the billing with a fine tooth comb? I bet they're all eating big chunks of city costs, and Walsh is looking like a God because the city budget is balanced.''
''And there would be a lot to lose if a lowly auditor with a big mouth and an overblown sense of morality decided to make waves. This is the kind of thing that actually would get press. Lionel must have scared the heck out of Carl Walsh and Grossman and whoever else is involved in this thing. You don't think Carl killed Lionel though, do you?''
''Naw,'' Michael scoffed. ''He wouldn't have the guts. Besides, we already know they sent some goons to Sarah. They've got people on the payroll we'll never know about. You can bet your bottom dollar their salaries don't show up on any billing records. What I still can't figure out is why the drugs? There had to be an easier way.''
''Listen, it's almost five. I want to make one more call.'' Kathleen held the phone against her shoulder, bouncing a little in the desk chair. ''Meet me at my place tonight. I want to start mapping this out so we can see where we need to fill in the blanks. I want to make sure when we go to the authorities we've got enough for them to open an investigation on Lionel's case.''
''Okay. I'll see you around seven. I want to run as many of the records as possible before the end of the day.''
Before Michael signed off, Kathleen asked:
''Jules Porter was probably involved, don't you think?''
''Yeah, I do,'' Michael said definitively. ''I think Jules has been signing off on those invoices for years. Now that he moved up, he's got to have someone else initialing this stuff 'cause I sure haven't been doing it.''
''Be careful when you try to figure out who it is.'' Kathleen knew she should hang up but there was another question she had to ask. ''Michael?''
''Yeah?''
''Do you think Gerry just fell in that tub?''
She could hear his thoughts; she just couldn't make them out.
''I do. I really do think so.'' Michael didn't hang up. He said, ''You know, I thought you were going to give up.''
''I thought so, too,'' she answered.
''See you tonight.''
It was show time. She dialed and listened and waited to go into her spiel once more. But when the connection was made Kathleen Cotter was speechless.
''Richard.''
She knew that voice as well as she knew her own. She'd listened to it. She'd believed it. She let Richard Jacobsen lead her away from Gerry O'Doul like the Pied Piper.
Kathleen slammed down the phone and began to sweat.
Michael kissed Kathleen good-bye at seven thirty the next morning. Both of them were exhausted, not from their lovemaking, but from the long hours tossing and turning as they considered the things that needed to be done. None of their options were without risk, yet neither considered quitting. There was too much at stake: Michael's honor, Kathleen's proof of worth, justice for Lionel, Sarah's peace of mind, and, of course, Louise's money. Yet Kathleen knew that, even for Louise, this had become a quest for the truth. Now Kathleen was moving forward to bring them all what they needed. So she had dressed carefully and headed out on her own while Michael went the opposite way.
She nodded to the guard at the front desk and waited patiently for the elevator, trying hard not to wear her nerves on the outside of her skin. Kathleen did all the things she usually did once she got to the office. She put her briefcase in the back corner. She looked at the painting of the houses Richard had seen fit to put in this otherwise bare room. How easily she'd been bought. At least the purchase price made her feel better. She went for coffee and she waited for Richard to make his rounds, praying her resolve would see her through. She could be wrong about him, after all. It could be that Carl often called Richard's private number just to chat. It could be that.
Kathleen timed her departure from the coffee room to coincide with Richard Jacobsen's clock-work review of his domain. She ran into him near Doreen Curler's office.
''Richard. Good morning.'' She smiled brightly, her face painted on beautifully, her red lips smiling as they had never smiled before. She was taller than he, but her knees quaked when he drew near because he was more powerful than she. He might even have the power of life and death.
''Kathleen. I'm surprised to see you back. I thought you were going to take an extended leave to take care of Gerry's affairs.''
Wouldn't you have loved that?
''There wasn't much to take care of. I still have to meet with Bob Morton. I think he wants to settle the Booker matter. I don't know if you remember -''
''Yes, I do remember. That's fine. Excellent. I'm sure you'll settle with Bob equitably. He's a good man. Very fair. It's in everyone's best interest to wrap things up.''
''He's a friend of yours then?'' Kathleen asked, stepping into his path. Richard eyed her curiously.
''Yes, as a matter of fact. I've know Bob for some time.''
''That's nice. I'll have to call you if I need a good word put in.''
Richard smiled and the temperature went down ten degrees. ''I already have, Kathleen.''
Slam. What a put down. He might as well have asked her straight out if she thought she was smart enough to reel All Life in once she'd snagged them?
''Thank you. That was very kind,'' Kathleen muttered. Richard took another step. His schedule was off and he was getting peevish. But Kathleen needed more. ''I was wondering if you could spare a minute on another matter. Gerry's business is almost wrapped up, and I really want to settle down here. You know, really become a part of this firm. I wondered about the billing records for my client. I noticed them on Jake's desk and I was confused by some of the paperwork. I don't want to do anything untoward so I was wondering. . .''
''Don't wonder, Kathleen.'' Ice. His voice chilled her. Richard took a step toward her instead of around. ''Just do. I want you to perform for us as an attorney, not an accountant. Jake will get the billing; I will okay the reports and accounting will do the paperwork.''
Kathleen persisted. ''I just didn't want to do anything detrimental. Everything was so easy at Gerry's office.''
''I'm sure it was, and that's why Gerry had the kind of business he did. Perhaps I made a mistake bringing you on board, Kathleen. Perhaps you were cut out for something simpler.''
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He left her standing in the hall. She looked after him, pleased as punch by his reaction to her questions. She wiped the smirk off her face when she realized someone was looking right at her. Kathleen looked over her shoulder. Doreen Curler had been watching and listening. Kathleen looked right back at her.
''It was a mistake, him bringing me onboard, you know,'' she said to the astonished associate.
Kathleen sipped her coffee as she headed down the hall. Richard Jacobsen would soon be finding out just how big a mistake it was. Kathleen walked right past her own office and stopped at the end of the hall where she turned into the big office. It took her three seconds to spot her prey. The lady was at the first desk. Accounting was a busy place so she smiled at the girl who looked like she could use a break.
''Hi, I'm Kathleen Cotter. Do you have a minute?''
''You know, this is really nice.'' The young woman's name was Jenny and her morning drink of choice was cola. It had taken her about five minutes to become Kathleen's best friend. ''You know, most of the associates don't even know our names, and the only reason the partners do is because they worry about what they'll have to divvy up at the end of the year. They think we'll give them a heads up if things look grim.''
''See, that's exactly the kind of thing I'm not real sure about. It's so weird the expectations around here. I mean, I'm supposed to know all the ins and outs, but I came from a really small firm. It was nothing like this. It makes me feel like such a hick.''
''Yeah, I heard. Everybody thought it was pretty weird.'' Her eyes fluttered closed while she apologized. ''I'm sorry, but around here we need any kind of gossip we can get. Most of the attorneys are so darn boring. I have to tell you, we figured they hired you because you looked so great. We never even saw a CV from you. Everyone in personnel was checking to find out where you'd come from.''
''It's nice to know everyone found me so interesting.'' Kathleen giggled. She did the girl thing with as much patience as she could muster. ''But, I'll tell you, I really, really want them to admire me for my mind. The law doesn't worry me it's the business part of this whole thing that makes me crazy. I want to make sure I look good on paper to this firm.''
''Hey, that's not a problem. Just bill what they expect, and what they expect isn't forty hours a week. If you can hang in there at sixty plus, you'll do fine.''
''So I just fill out that time sheet with my hours. But I thought there must be something more to it because I heard Mr. Jacobsen gets the billing records. I sure don't want to do anything that's going to make him mad.''
''Of course he does. He has to go over every single attorney's billing and make changes,'' she said, clicking her tongue like this was the most ridiculous question in the world. Kathleen played along.
''Wait, now I'm confused. How can you change how many hours someone worked? I mean what I put down is what I put down.''
''Oh, it's not that you don't get credit for all your hours,'' the woman said, concerned that she'd given Kathleen the wrong impression.
Hurry. Hurry.
''Boy that's good to know.''
''It's just that sometimes adjustments have to be made to keep the clients happy. Businesspeople do it all the time. Anyway, Mr. Jacobsen makes sure that no one inadvertently marks too much time to one client. Or, if the firm needs to give a client a break, you know they want to look good to the client, Mr. Jacobsen transfers the hours between different dockets so that the bottom line looks the way he wants it to.''
''Wow. That must be tough to keep everything straight. Do you each meet with Mr. Jacobsen to go over the changes?''
She laughed.
''You've got to be kidding. I'd quit if I had to go to all that trouble. Nope, we just tally the bottom line, input it into the computer then I initial it and send out the accounts assigned to me and make sure the receivables are up-to-date.''
''Wow, I don't know how you keep it all straight.'' Kathleen shook her head admiringly. ''Do you think I could see some of the final billing, just so I'm familiar with it if I ever have to justify anything to my client?''
''Sure. If you're that dedicated you deserve all the help you can get.'' Taking a last drink of her cola, she stood up and slid open a file drawer that was almost as long as the wall. ''Here. This is the refinery docket. You can see exactly what you look like to the client on paper.''
''Thanks. I really didn't mean to put you to all this trouble.''
Kathleen forced herself to be casual. She flipped open the file folder and let her eyes run down the latest invoice. There she was laid out in black and white, all her glorious hours, billed at a lowly associate's rate. But there was Craig Nelson, too, exclusive senior partner to city business. He billed triple her hourly rate and the refinery was picking up the tab for his services. If anyone noticed, they were probably pretty impressed that one of the senior partners was actually doing the daily dirty work on their business.
''Boy, I really admire you. I'd go crazy if I had to keep track of all these bits and pieces of hours.''
''You get used to it.'' She preened, pleased to impress an attorney.
Kathleen's hands were sweating as she handed back the billing docket. ''I didn't realize how much of your time I'd taken up. I should get going. Thanks for all your help. I hope I don't screw up.''
''You won't. I'll bet you'll do just fine.'' The woman's smile faded as she turned away from the file drawer. Kathleen turned, right into Richard Jacobsen who stood in the doorway.
''I've brought this month's time sheets, Jenny.''
He walked past Kathleen and deposited the paperwork. When he retraced his steps he paused beside her, his expression quizzical. Kathleen began to perspire.
''I was just leaving,'' she whispered, standing and offering the only explanation she could think of. ''I needed to change the beneficiary on my insurance policy. I mean, now that Gerry's dead. Tax information. You know. Thanks again, Jenny.''
Kathleen glanced at her new friend who looked a little sick. Kathleen hoped the woman wouldn't catch it for talking to her. When she looked behind her, she saw that Richard Jacobsen had already left accounting. He had no interest in Jenny. He was standing in the hall looking thoughtfully after her.
Kathleen clutched her coffee mug with two hands, letting go of it only when she reached her office. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her purse and her briefcase and walked out the door, down the hall and through the lobby. Eyes forward, afraid to look around in case Richard was there watching her, Kathleen waited for the elevator. She stepped in, let the doors close and then collapsed into the corner sure that, at any moment, the emergency trap would open and Richard Jacobsen would be staring down at her, quietly informing her that she was about to die.
Richard would never go to such lengths to terrorize Kathleen Cotter. When Richard Jacobsen encountered a problem he took care of it simply and swiftly. Picking up the phone he called the one person who understood this predicament.
''It's me. I think there's a problem with Kathleen Cotter. I know, I know. I thought it would be all right now that the old man is gone. It won't be.''
Richard listened. He objected. He listened again and finally was convinced.
They would meet that evening. They might never make it to bed. Once this was over, though, everything would be as it had been and they would take to bed for a week with no worries. That was really all he wanted. He hung up the receiver just as Kathleen Cotter was picking one up outside at a pay phone. She told Michael the news.
Michael redialed. He called Sarah and Louise. They were all waiting when Kathleen got home.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Michael was on the couch, his head propped up on one end, his legs on the other. Kathleen sat under his legs. She used his flat midriff as a desk and dinner table.
''More pizza?''
Sarah stood up and offered to refill their paper plates. All they had to do was tell her whether they wanted vegetable or pepperoni. They both shook their heads.
''I'll
have pepperoni,'' Louise held out her plate. ''Hey, look at these. Oh, Sarah, these came out great. I really should have been a photographer. I bet I would have been a fashion photographer if I hadn't gotten married so young.''
Sarah handed Louise the pizza and Louise gave her a stack of photos - double prints, glossy finish. Sarah settled herself. Then she tried to settle again. Louise had taken it upon herself to make-over Sarah Booker. The result was less than attractive to everyone but Louise. Sarah's hair was pulled into a side pony tail; her eyes were shadowed in a midnight blue that made them look muddy. Half her mascara was on her lashes, the other half was smudged under her eyes. Red wasn't her color and her chest couldn't hold a candle to Louise's yet she gamely had donned one of Louise's halters. Over it all she'd thrown her gray sweater and it was that she pulled around her for comfort while she looked at Louise's pictures.
''This one is really good.'' Louise leaned over, beaming at Sarah's compliment. The nail that delightedly tapped the photo was lavender, The Artist Formerly Known as Prince, was illustrated in all his pouty lipped glory.
''Yeah, doesn't that just look like something you'd see in the Enquirer? It has that look, you know, like he's done something really bad and he doesn't want anyone to know about it. What a slime. Him and that Richard guy. Show Kathleen and Michael. They haven't seen this batch.''
Sarah did as she was told, offering Kathleen the stack with a shy smile. ''They really are good you know. Louise has a real talent.''
Kathleen took them and almost put them aside until something caught her eye. She shuffled the three inch glossies like a deck of cards.
''Kathleen. Look here.'' Michael handed her a sheet of paper. ''This one matches the file Lionel had given Sarah. It's from the office supply division at Tysco. So far I've found two divisions and one subdivision in on all this. No wonder Carl Walsh looks like a God to the voters. If you add up everything that's been misdirected in billing and put it back where it belongs, the city budget would skyrocket.''
''Can I see?'' Sarah put her hand out. Kathleen passed them over. She'd look at them later. Now it was the photos that had her intrigued.
Character Witness Page 29
