Deadly Legacy (A Carmedy & Garrett Mystery) Page 3

  Thorsen had said he'd take care of telling whoever needed to know at headquarters and take care of the paperwork for her father's disability pension. Everyone she worked with knew Joe Garrett was dead and they promised to pass the information along to her father's other friends and acquaintances.

  Her mother would let the family know.

  The offices of Garrett Investigations loomed over Kate. There was one other person who needed to know about Joe.

  Jake Carmedy.

  Thorsen will tell him.

  Still, if she believed the Filandros deserved her personal touch, how much more so Carmedy?

  Kate keyed herself into the building.

  With image recognition software and a hand scan, the elevator knew to allow her up after hours and soon opened its doors on the fourth floor. The lights flickered, then switched from infrared to daylight, as Kate stepped out hugging the wall.

  The lights weren't supposed to flicker. Something else had moved before Kate. Hand on her sidearm, she looked around her. Cowering against the door to the stairs was a familiar figure. He looked as scared as she had felt before the relief of recognition flooded through her.

  "What the hell are you doing here, Ike?"

  Spiky straw-like hair sprouted out of a cadaverous head, which sported an unkempt goatee and a pale, five o'clock shadow.

  "Miss Kate?" The voice was equal parts deferential and worried.

  "Yeah. Come on. I'm afraid if you're waiting for Dad, he's not coming."

  A scarecrow of a man, dressed in oversized, black fleece pants and a hooded jacket, stepped out of the shadows.

  "I know, Miss Kate. I was there when he died."

  The desks in Garrett Investigations were egalitarian. They were a matching pair made to look like vintage oak, each fitted with all the technological bells and whistles. The desks were equal, their positions were not. Her father's desk was in the centre of the room and had the huge front windows as a backdrop. Jake Carmedy's was at right angles to one side and closer to the door. Kate took Ike beyond the desks to the sitting area between her father's desk and the windows. Now they were staring at each other. Ike, hugging a half empty coffee cup, grey eyes nervously squinting at Kate. Kate, slightly slack-jawed, eyes scanning Ike for signs of subterfuge.

  "I don't get it," she said. "Eldridge hired you to follow him, even though he had already hired my father. He didn't say why?"

  Ike shrugged. "I didn't ask, Miss Kate. It was an easy job and good money. I try never having too much information in those circumstances."

  "Of course not."

  Ike was a petty mercenary. He would do almost anything for almost anyone, so long as it didn't involve drugs, violence or obvious personal danger. Kate had no trouble believing Ike hadn't known his job had anything to do with her father. Ike had been one of her father's regular informants, one he looked out for. If Ike was loyal to anyone besides himself, it was to Joe Garrett. As Garrett's daughter, Ike had extended his services to Kate when she joined the force. Though she worked hard and took every relevant course, connections like his helped her make detective.

  "Are you still working for Eldridge?"

  "I could be," Ike allowed.

  "And also work for me?"

  Kate could see Ike's thought processes in his facial expressions. Two pays were better than one, but a dead man can't spend money. She could see him weigh the risks against the possible rewards.

  "The accident was an accident, wasn't it?"

  Kate gave a half-hearted shrug. "Looks like it. It wasn't hit and run. The driver stayed at the scene."

  "If Joe hadn't caught sight of me, he would have been paying more attention."

  "And if Eldridge wasn't playing silly buggers, neither of you would have been there."

  Ike brightened.

  "But since you were there," Kate added, feeling a small stab of guilt for manipulating the poor man, "this will help clean the slate. So, you keep working for Eldridge and you report to me. Okay?"

  "Yes, Miss Kate."

  Once Ike had skulked back into the night, Kate sat down at her father's desk and flipped up his monitor. She found the speed dial icons for Jake Carmedy's PCS. It was with some relief she got his voice mail.

  "Mr. Carmedy, this is Kate Garrett. Please call me or Chief Thorsen at your earliest convenience. Thank you."

  With any luck, he'd call Thorsen and she wouldn't have to deal with him at all.

  5

  Every time Jake visited the Thorsens, the phrase 'opposites attract' came to mind. Thorsen was tall, broad and built like a warrior. Maggie was short, plump and statured for comfort. Thorsen cultivated stoicism and a laconic manner as necessary professional tools, while his wife was passionate—for good or ill.

  "I can't get over how stupid it all is." Maggie threw her arms up. "A car accident. You're sure it was an accident?"

  "I'm sure." Thorsen's voice was soothing. "It was just bad luck. Perhaps Joseph was distracted."

  Jake shook his head.

  "Not like Joe."

  "No," Maggie said, close to tears.

  "No," Thorsen echoed, reaching out for her hand.

  Silence fell again, as it had repeatedly throughout dinner.

  Maggie heaved a huge sigh.

  "I'm going to check on the girls."

  In memory of Uncle Joe, the Thorsen girls were eating pizza and watching a Lethal Weapon marathon in the media room. Maggie left with a large mug of tea. Jake guessed she would stay to cuddle with her daughters for the duration. Thorsen watched her go, then pulled out his eCom and set it on the table. A little blue light told Jake the device was set to record.

  "Tell me about the Touchstone job."

  "You know Touchstone Insurance is a regular customer." Jake didn't wait for an answer. "Every couple of months Joe would invite the Claims Superintendent, Felix Proctor, aka Gage's son-in-law, for an expensive business lunch. The price of doing business. Proctor might hand over one or two big claims, above and beyond the usual investigations we got sent electronically. That's as far up the food chain as I thought we went at Touchstone. Then, a couple of weeks ago the CEO, Delano Gage, shows up."

  If Gage ever needed extra money, he could have been a mature model for a menswear catalogue. He was tall, dark skinned, athletic and perfectly tailored. Jake recognized him immediately from the business news.

  "Joe Garrett, it's been too long."

  Judging by the first expression flashing across Joe's face, Jake thought it wasn't nearly long enough. Joe recovered quickly. He held out his hand to their guest and made an appropriate, if not entirely sincere, response. "Much too long. Have you met my partner, Jake Carmedy?"

  Delano Gage turned and offered his hand. Jake felt as though he were being scanned, measured and sorted into a bin labelled 'pending.' He tried returning the favour. Gage was out of his league.

  "Can I offer you something, Del?"

  "Mineral water, if you have it."

  "Sparkling or natural?"

  "Natural, thank you."

  Joe brought Gage an unopened bottle of water and a stemmed goblet. He settled at his desk and watched Gage crack the seal on the bottle, then decant the water into the glass as if it were a fine wine. Jake, watching from the sidelines of his desk, half-expected Gage to sniff the water before drinking.

  "Joe, I have an arson case for you," Gage started. "A software company called Moonlight Games is making a claim which, on the surface, is quite modest. They didn't lose any of their creative work or electronics. The damage to the building and furnishings was mostly superficial, due to smoke and water. Apparently, the target was the archive of hard copies for the patents and contracts."

  Joe raised his brows in mute question.

  "Moonlight is in the process of being bought out by Magpie Systems. Without the patents and contracts, there can be no sale."

  "What about electronic copies?"

  "Missing."

  "Lawyers' copies?"

  "Also missing."


  "This sounds like a criminal case, Delano. You know we can only handle active criminal cases with police permission."

  Gage flashed a diamond smile, glittering and hard.

  "I was hoping you could get it, Joe. You have the contacts. The thing is, Felix is involved. He has invested heavily in Moonlight Games and stands to make a large profit if the sale goes through. That's one reason I want to hand the case over to you. We don't want there to be an appearance of impropriety."

  "Is there impropriety?"

  Gage shrugged. "I don't think so." He paused. "Felix and my daughter are having some trouble at home."

  "That doesn't prove anything," Joe said, shaking his head. "In any case, the loss of records seems to hurt him."

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not. The patents would show who does, or does not, own what. In particular, it's important to show the provenance of the company's latest and hottest game. That will make a big difference as to how the profits will be split. At least," he gave Joe a look of mock self-deprecation, "that is what I understand."

  "I take it there is some contest."

  "Evidently. I think you should start interviewing our client, Sabrina Yao. She will better be able to explain the situation. My chief concern is the company not pay out anything we don't have to. If possible, I'd also like to keep my son-in-law out of trouble."

  Thorsen halted Jake's tale.

  "So, we have Gage, one of the wealthiest men in the city, looking out for his son-in-law. No big surprise. He goes to Joseph. Why? Proctor gives your agency a lot of business. Conflict of interest might still apply. If he was worried about appearances, why not go to an agency that doesn't get work from Touchstone? Maybe Gage wanted someone with a vested interest, outside the company."

  Jake leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms. He had come to a similar conclusion and had given some thought to Gage's motivations.

  "Gage is like a spider in his corporate web. He doesn't have to work. He likes it. He especially enjoys cultivating people—like Felix Proctor. The story goes, he recruited Proctor from college and groomed him from day one to be his son-in-law and successor. When Proctor was ready for the position of Senior Claims Superintendent, the incumbent was offered early retirement. That kind of guy isn't going to be above manipulating the situation to his advantage. In any case, that's why Joe eventually handed the investigation off to me. He figured I could dig up the dirt, if dirt there was, and he could smooth it over later."

  "Was there dirt?"

  Jake rubbed his eyes tiredly. "All kinds."

  Jake spent the afternoon doing a background check on Moonlight Games.

  The business had been registered as a partnership six years previously. Sabrina Yao and Matteo Rossini were the principles. Both were computer programmers and, according to an article written in a local business magazine, were friends since high school. They had moderate success designing subscription modules for a larger gaming company. Then, three years ago, Rossini was killed in a boating accident.

  With Rossini gone, the business went into a slump for a while. Then, a couple of months ago, they started beta testing their newest game system, Legacy. It was the most customizable game world to come out on the market in ages. Yao got a local fantasy live-action role-playing club to test play the game, helping them to set up the network to mirror their ongoing LARP. All the chases and battles that had been determined with dice and paper could now be played out on the computer with the game master providing real-time direction.

  A few press releases later, members of the club were being interviewed and one of the networks sent a crew to tape the LARP and computer game in action. Pre-orders for the consumer version began to pour in. That was when Magpie got involved.

  Magpie was being touted as the next Microsoft. They were buying up small software companies and creating a new line of integrated products. Now, they wanted Moonlight Games—which was apparently fine with the owner and chief designer, Sabrina Yao. Within days of the news hitting the business media, the brother of Yao's deceased partner showed up to contest the sale. Shortly after, someone set fire to the company records.

  The investigation wasn't secret, so when they'd done their ground work, Joe decided to use a direct approach. They showed up at Moonlight Games, introduced themselves and asked to see Ms. Yao.

  Sabrina Yao was the antithesis of the stereotypical computer geek. Long and slender, with hip-length ebony hair and finely sculpted features, she looked like a princess from an exotic and probably mythical land (so long as you imagined your princesses wearing batik silk harem pants and a cropped t-shirt telling the reader to hug a whale and save a tree). Jake had once been told women liked you to notice their shoes. He wasn't sure if violent pink flip-flops counted. He also wasn't sure this could really be the owner of a company that was being discussed on the blogs of three top business magazines. His scepticism must have been apparent.

  "I don't do business suits," she said by way of greeting. "I know you're wondering. Lucky for me, computer programmers are supposed to be eccentric."

  Joe put on one of his more charming smiles and did a slow pirouette, fanning his charcoal-grey trench coat to show off black jeans and a claret-coloured sweater.

  "I don't do business suits, either. Lucky for me a private detective can wear anything, so long as he or she puts a trench coat over it. My associate doesn't have a suit under his trench coat, either—though he does have a tendency toward corporate beige."

  "It's khaki," Jake had replied, "and everyone knows khaki is the new black."

  Sabrina laughed and visibly relaxed.

  One of the first lessons Joe Garrett taught Jake years ago was that being able to laugh at yourself was an essential tool of the trade. It put people at ease, made it easier for them to admit their own follies. It didn't come easily to Jake. Joe was a master of the art.

  "Why don't we go to your office, Ms. Yao? Then we'll show you our credentials. Oh, and by the way, I love your shoes."

  After the formalities were taken care of, Sabrina sat back and glared at the two detectives. "I don't know what you expect me to tell you I haven't already told the police and insurance adjuster. If you want the whole story again, forget it. Go buy the vid from the police."

  "We don't need to go over everything," Joe assured her, "just a few details. For instance, how much information have you irretrievably lost?"

  "We don't know yet." She blew out an impatient sigh. "Most of the accounting is okay. Only the hard copies were destroyed. We might have lost a few un-posted receipts. Nothing we can't replace or eat. Legal files are duplicated by our lawyers, but we changed firms a couple years ago and not everything moved over. I have been assured they will sort that out soon. The really big problem is the old work files. We keep notes, hard copies of programming and story boards. Some of them are duplicated in my personal files. Many are not."

  "Isn't most of your work done on computers?"

  "Well yeah…ultimately." Sabrina rolled her eyes. "When we're brainstorming or thrashing stuff out, we also scribble notes on paper and we keep hard copies of the work in progress."

  Jake knew he was missing something she thought was terribly obvious. He tried an apologetic shrug.

  "Look, what we build here is almost ephemeral and fairly easy to pirate once it hits the market." She spoke in that slow, clear voice usually reserved for children. "If and when someone hacks the code and uses it to create a knock-off, we can prove it's ours by showing our process."

  "But if that documentation goes up in flames?" Jake asked.

  "Exactly! And that's our problem. Matteo and I had a partnership agreement, which was endorsed in our respective wills. The business and all joint projects go to the surviving partner. Royalties from products we created on our own, before starting Moonlight Games, would go to our families."

  A typical arrangement, Jake thought.

  "Matteo's beneficiary was his brother, Frank." Sabrina gave an involuntary shudder of revulsion. "He's a jerk. He tried to
contest the will and claim a bigger piece of the pie. He didn't get anywhere and I didn't hear from him again, until a couple of months ago, when he tried claiming our new game was based on work Matteo had done before the company was established."

  "How long ago did your partner die?" Joe asked.

  "Three years last summer."

  "And you started the business three years before that?"

  "Roughly. I think I can see where you're going with this. You think Frank doesn't have much of a claim because of the time involved. Trouble is, everything we do builds on work we have already done. Matteo and I started thinking about this game long before Moonlight Games, when we were both in high school. It's the reason we started the company. Everything else was done to pay the bills. Both of us had been working in the biz. Both of us brought products to the company that would influence what we did later. So did every game we played, back when we were dreaming of becoming rich and famous. The substantial creative work was done after Moonlight Games was established."

  "And only your notes prove this?" Joe asked.

  "The legal documents will help." She slumped. "The notes make it obvious."

  Thorsen poured himself another cup of coffee and offered the carafe to Jake. Jake shook his head and pushed his empty cup away as he continued his debriefing.

  "Frank Rossini is a prime suspect for the arson," he said. "So is Sabrina Yao. Those notes might have been fiction and the fire was pretty specific. Would Rossini have been that careful?" He answered the question with a shrug. "I discovered another possible suspect, an employee who had been doctoring the books to cover his unauthorized loans of company funds. He was embezzling one week and paying back the next—give or take a bit. He could fix the electronic books."

  Thorsen finished for him. "But the paper trail would have shown the discrepancies."

  "There are also four employees who will not be going over to Magpie if the deal goes through. One of them might have set the fire to quash the deal. It was about this time Leon Eldridge came to Joe with the story his life had been threatened."