Chương 9
“You think he doesn’t know?”
“I think we don’t know what he knows.”
Damian looked down at him.
Marcus’s tie had shifted, and his neatly combed hair had begun to fall over his forehead. He looked suddenly much younger than thirty-two.
“I gave Peter Celeste’s arrival time,” Marcus said. “My credential opened your study. The cameras failed during maintenance I approved. If someone wants to make this look like me, they’ve done enough.”
“You’re not the target.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Celeste trusted you to meet her.”
“That does not make me innocent.”
Damian crouched, his coat spreading around him.
Marcus gave a short, humorless laugh. “This is a strange angle for you.”
“What?”
“Looking up at people.”
Damian ignored it. “Did you take the drive?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt Celeste?”
Marcus’s face changed as if struck.
“No.”
“Then stand up.”
“That isn’t how investigations work.”
“No. It is how I work.”
“That may be the problem.”
Damian’s expression hardened.
Marcus stared at the opposite wall. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize because I disliked hearing it.”
“I apologized because you employ me.”
“And?”
“And that is also the problem.”
Damian rose.
Marcus remained on the floor another moment before accepting the hand Damian offered.
Detective Ortiz came to the hospital at eleven. She interviewed Celeste for twenty-two minutes, stopping when Bell warned that her headache was worsening.
Celeste described Peter’s comments, the struggle, the dark sleeve, the possible cedar smell, and the blow. She could not identify the attacker’s build or voice. She remembered the person breathing rapidly through the nose. She remembered a small metallic sound after the bag tore.
“A buckle?” Ortiz asked.
“Maybe.”
“Jewelry?”
“I don’t know.”
“Keys?”
Celeste closed her eyes. “It sounded like two pieces of metal touching.”
Ortiz showed her photographs of the green bag and printed records. Celeste confirmed they were hers.
“Was the drive kept in the bag?”
“In a zippered inner pocket.”
“Could someone have known where?”
“Anyone who searched it.”
“Was anything else missing?”
Celeste studied the photograph.
“My notebook has a black elastic strap.”
Ortiz zoomed in. The strap was loose.
“It was wrapped twice,” Celeste said. “I always wrap it twice.”
“Could it have come loose in the struggle?”
“No. It’s too tight.”
“What’s in the notebook?”
“Meeting notes. Names. Questions.”
“About the Star?”
“Some.”
Ortiz examined the image again. “Would someone know they needed to read it?”
“They might think the decryption phrase was inside.”
“Is it?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
Celeste looked at Damian.
Ortiz followed her gaze. “He doesn’t know?”
“No.”
“Does anyone?”
“Grace knows part of it.”
“Part?”
“We each know half.”
Ortiz nodded slowly. “Good practice.”
“It was her idea.”
“Where is Grace now?”
“Manila.”
“Have you heard from her since the attack?”
“No.”
Ortiz closed her notebook. “Do not contact her yet. We’ll coordinate through counsel and federal authorities.”
Damian asked, “Why federal?”
“The underlying records involve maritime operations, interstate commerce, and possible obstruction. I’m not making jurisdictional promises. I’m telling you this will not remain a county assault case.”
“Will you arrest Peter?”
“Not based on what we have.”
“Grant?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
Marcus, standing near the door, flinched.
Ortiz looked at him. “No.”
Damian’s impatience sharpened. “Then what exactly do you have?”
“A victim who cannot identify her attacker. A missing drive. A bag planted in your study using a stolen access credential. Deleted security logs. Multiple people with motive and opportunity. That is more than we had last night and less than you want.”
“Someone tried to silence her.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Someone assaulted her and took the bag. Motive remains an inference.”
Celeste said, “Detective.”
Ortiz turned.
“The attacker did not ask for money. Did not take my jewelry. Did not touch anything except the bag.”
“That supports your theory,” Ortiz said. “It does not complete it.”
Damian disliked her caution. Celeste seemed to trust it.
After Ortiz left, Damian asked Marcus to return to headquarters and stay available to police. Marcus adjusted his tie.
“Am I still employed?”
“Yes.”
“Should I be?”
“That depends on whether you are asking as my assistant or as a suspect.”
Marcus winced. “I suppose I earned that.”
“You earned better judgment.”
“From you, that is almost affectionate.”
He left before Damian could decide whether the remark was insolent.
At noon, Peter Sloane called.
Ruth advised Damian not to answer.
Damian answered.
Peter’s voice came through the speaker in the consultation room. “How is Celeste?”
“Alive.”
“I’m relieved.”
“Are you?”
Ruth wrote on a legal pad: DO NOT ACCUSE.
Damian crossed out the words with her pen.
Peter continued, “My attorney tells me the police removed my clothes.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“They gave me a paper suit.”
“I hope it suited you.”
Adele closed her eyes.
Peter gave a tired sigh. “We have worked together too long for this performance.”
“Then stop performing.”
“I did not hurt her.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is the drive?”
“What drive?”
“The one you thought was in the green bag.”
Silence.
Ruth underlined the word ACCUSE three times.
Peter said, “You should be careful.”
“Is that advice or a threat?”
“It is the sentence Adele should be saying to you. The board has learned that police searched the estate. Rumors are already moving. We need a coordinated statement.”
“My daughter is in the hospital.”
“And fifteen thousand employees will wake to headlines suggesting their company is under criminal investigation.”
“It may be.”
The silence on the call lengthened.
When Peter spoke again, his voice had changed. The courtesy remained, but something underneath it had tightened.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know about the deferred repair.”
“Celeste showed you documents?”
“She did not need to.”
“Damian, listen to me. Internal records are easily misunderstood. Operations teams discuss possibilities. Draft reports contain language that never reflects final conditions. We have investigators, insurers, regulators—”
“Did you alter the inspection file?”
“No.”
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“Did you classify the original fault reports as preliminary after three men died?”
“Not personally.”
