“Mary was in here the other day, telling me that Mike Shanahan was a likely suspect in the murder and that we should investigate him.” Detective Krakoff turned to Mary. “Mary, I don’t know what game you’re playing.”
“I can explain,” Mary said, defensive. “I told you about Shanahan because I thought that he was a real possibility. But now I have new information—”
“Or you were promoting any suspect you could to deflect attention away from your client Judy Carrier.”
“That’s not what’s going on,” Mary shot back. “Machiavelli is the one you need to be looking at. And of course Judy isn’t guilty, not in the least. Somewhere in your heart, you have to know that. It’s absurd to suspect her.”
Bennie threw up her hands. “Detective, you know that in any investigation, new facts arise. We came to you as soon as we got this information. We didn’t want to waste any time. We assume you don’t either. So are you going to investigate Machiavelli?”
Detective Krakoff pocketed his steno pad. “As I said, you’re not immediate family, so you’re not entitled to that information.”
Mary got an idea. “You know, John’s brother is in town, and so are his next of kin, his aunt and uncle. They’re going through hell right now, so I would like very much not to bring them in. But if I got a letter from them, or some kind of phone authorization, would you talk to us then?”
Bennie nodded, eagerly. “Yes, we could get a letter from them authorizing us as their attorneys. We could speak with you as counsel.”
Detective Krakoff hesitated. “Is William in town?”
“Yes, why?”
“Where is he?” A concerned frown crossed Detective Krakoff’s face.
“He’s at the hotel with the Hodges, his aunt and uncle. They’re elderly, she has a broken ankle, and William’s in a wheelchair. Obviously, it would be so difficult and upsetting to bring them in. Couldn’t you just play ball with us?”
“When is William going back to Glenn Meade?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t had a chance to check. Probably later today.” Mary hadn’t discussed it with Judy and she still didn’t want to admit to Detective Krakoff that Judy had been John’s girlfriend.
Detective Krakoff paused, pursing his lips.
Mary asked, “What is it? Why do you ask?”
“I will share limited information with you. But it must remain confidential.”
“Yes, totally,” Mary said quickly.
“Of course, please do.” Bennie nodded.
Detective Krakoff said, “Shanahan has disappeared.”
“What?” Mary asked, shocked.
Bennie blinked. “How do you know?”
“We followed up on your lead, Mary. We went to Glenn Meade this morning to talk to Shanahan. He didn’t come to work. They called his cell, and there was no answer. We went to his apartment. His car’s gone, so are his clothes. He said nothing to the landlord or neighbors about where he was going.”
“But why would he go?” Mary’s thoughts raced. “I swear to you, it was Machiavelli that killed John, not Shanahan. I’m sure of it.”
Bennie forward. “We still think it’s Machiavelli, and the fact that Shanahan has gone missing doesn’t change that. Even if he didn’t do it, he could have been worried he’d be accused, given the Complaint. Or he simply could have felt the situation was too hot to stick around, given his past.”
Mary nodded, glad of the support. “So Detective, what happens now? Will you follow up with Machiavelli?”
“We’re looking for Shanahan. The timing of his disappearance isn’t coincidental, to us.” Detective Krakoff frowned. “I divulged the information for a reason. It would be best for William if he didn’t return to Glenn Meade until we locate Shanahan, out of an abundance of caution. I have concern for William’s safety there, should Shanahan seek to contact him. Glenn Meade has no security measures to speak of.”
“I agree, I don’t want to take any chances with William’s safety.”
“So you see, I’m a nice guy after all.” Detective Krakoff smiled, but Mary felt so frustrated that her case against Machiavelli was slipping away, when they’d come so far.
“Detective, I do appreciate your concern for William, but I truly don’t think Shanahan did it. Machiavelli did. We’re talking about millions and millions of dollars in one company, if not the two companies.” Mary gestured at the corporate papers on the typing table. “And they’re sure producers in the future because he monopolized the market. Machiavelli would kill to keep those businesses and hurt our firm in the bargain. It’s more than enough for motive.”
Detective Krakoff cocked his head skeptically. “You’re telling me that this Machiavelli is a successful lawyer in town?”
“Yes.”
“With his own law firm and major investments? Major businesses? Data integration and what not?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t tell you anything. He doesn’t have to look like a murderer to be one. He can look like an upstanding citizen.”
“But you admit you have a history with him.”
“Yes, but it certainly doesn’t affect my motives in coming to you with this.”
“I’m not saying it does. I’m saying if you have bad blood, you might not be as objective as you think.”
“No, I see this clearly, I really do.” Mary could tell she wasn’t getting anywhere.
“She does,” Bennie interjected. “We all do. We’re all on the same page. Machiavelli is the one you need to be following up on. Or do both. Knock yourself out. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”
“Okay. I’ve heard you. Thanks.” Detective Krakoff’s tone turned final. “We do have to go, now. We have to get back to work.”
Bennie rose. “Fair enough. Thank you.”
“Yes, thanks,” Mary said, getting up. She hadn’t come this far to quit now.
They would have to find another way.
*
“Now what do we do?” Mary said under her breath, as they hurried from the Roundhouse, ignoring the press. Reporters shouted questions at them and filmed them leaving, but they knew the drill and kept their heads down, plowing ahead. Amanda Sussman wasn’t among them, so Mary mentally confirmed her small victory, a bright spot in an otherwise terrible morning.
“We do what we planned.” Bennie charged through the parking lot toward the curb, and Mary struggled to keep up, breaking a sweat in the sun.
“But they’re not going to follow up with Machiavelli.”
“We can’t deal with that now. We have to do the next step.” Bennie checked her phone on the fly. “We’re right on time. Judy and Anne will meet us there.”
“But this is a setback.”
“So what else is new?” Bennie powered ahead.
“We have to figure out a way to go after Machiavelli without the cops.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
Mary put her hand on her belly, instinctively, as she chugged along. The baby hadn’t kicked during the meeting with the police, which was probably a good thing, considering that her fake labor pains had come back to haunt her.
“DiNunzio, can you walk faster?”
“No, can you walk slower?”
“I have to get us a cab.”
“Oh, okay. I have to make a human being.”
“You had to go there?” Bennie rolled her eyes, but she slowed down, and Mary reached the curb a step behind her, on a street congested with noonday traffic to the Expressway.
“It’s Machiavelli, I’m telling you, I know it in my bones. We have to bring him down this time, once and for all.”
“We will. For John.”
“Right. For John.”
Bennie flagged down a cab. “I have good cab karma with you. I hope you’re pregnant forever.”
“Thanks,” Mary said, burping.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Bennie, Mary, Judy, and Anne filed into the glass-walled conference room at London Technologies, where Sanjay and Jim looked up, startled. “Good morning, gentlemen,” Bennie said, closing the glass door behind them, as a young receptionist stuck her head inside.
“I’m so sorry, Sanjay,” she said. “They saw you from the door. I couldn’t stop them.”
“It’s okay, Linda.” Sanjay waved her off, and the receptionist disappeared, leaving the four women to face Sanjay and Jim.
Bennie took the lead. “Sanjay, Jim, I hate to barge in, but this is an emergency.”
Mary added, “If you give us a chance, we can explain everything.”