Once a Killer (33 page)

“Just had Mr. Jenks’s assistant on the phone,” she said with an apologetic face. “He’d like to see you.”

“Can you tell him I’ll be there in the next half hour?” Michael said. “We’re almost done here.”

“I tried that. Apparently, he needs to see you now. Says it’s urgent.”

“Sorry, guys.” Michael turned to his colleagues. “Let’s pick this up later today. When the senior partner calls…”

Michael made his way to Jenks’s office, assuming the urgency was because Jenks wanted to introduce a new client who happened to be visiting. Jenks had done this before when a potential client was hot to sign up, but insisted on meeting one or two partners first. It was flattering that, on more than one occasion like this, the senior partner had thought of Michael as the right man to help clinch the deal.

“You can go right in,” Jenks’s PA said as Michael approached her. “He’s expecting you.”

“Thanks.” Michael tapped on the corner office door and walked in.

Jenks was standing in the middle of the room, talking to Jerry Rubin, the firm’s deputy senior partner and likely successor when Jenks eventually decided to call it a day. Their voices were low and faces serious, and there was no sign of a potential client.

“Come on in, Michael.” Jenks kept a deadpan face.

What was all this about? Michael started heading for one of the sofas, where Jenks liked to hold most of his internal meetings.

“Not there. We’ll sit here.” Jenks pointed to the small round table on the other side of the room.

That was a first for Michael. He took a seat, and Rubin sat directly opposite him, but said nothing. Jenks walked to the door and told his assistant there were to be no interruptions. He closed the door and joined the others at the table, sitting next to Rubin.

“Is there a problem?” Michael asked.

“What makes you say that?” said Jenks.

“When I was told you wanted to see me, I thought it might be an urgent client matter. Now I can see it’s not.”

“Actually, it is a client matter and it is urgent.”

There was still no sign of Jenks’s famous smile, and Rubin looked as if he was ready to throw up at any time. It was unusual to see these two men together outside of a partners’ meeting. Something sinister had to be going on.

“What do you need from me?”

“I was just explaining to Jerry. We’ve had a visit this morning from the FBI.” Jenks paused and made eye contact with Michael.

A wave of panic ripped through Michael. He found it hard to hold the senior partner’s gaze. “What does the FBI want with us?”

“It seems quite a lot. They’re investigating a case, and they think you might have something to do with it.”

Alarm seized Michael’s brain, freezing out all capacity to think. He sat upright in his chair and tried to gulp down some air. “I’m not aware of any of my clients being under investigation.” As much as he tried to hide it, there was still an element of fear in his voice.

“I didn’t say it was a client being investigated.”

“What are you saying? That they think I’m involved in something?”

“Apparently, some of your deals have been leaked ahead of them being announced to the market, and someone outside the firm is dealing on that information.”

“Insider trading?”

Jenks nodded. “That’s what I’m told, and at this moment in time, the FBI is pointing the finger at you.”

Michael was gasping for some water, but there were no bottles on the table. Asking for some would look weak—defensive, even. “Why? Because they think my deals have been leaked? I don’t believe it.”

“That’s what I said, but then a specific deal was mentioned.”

“Which one?”

“The Spar/Collar transaction.”

“I don’t know what to say. Obviously, I’m not sharing anything to do with my work outside the firm. You know that.”

Rubin leaned forward. “How about your team members? Could it be one of them?”

Michael made out like he was thinking about the question for a few seconds. “I can’t see it. I trust them all. The FBI has to be mistaken about this.”

“Exactly what I said,” Jenks said.

“What can we do? It’s hard to prove we’re not doing anything wrong, but somehow, we need to set the record straight. God knows what would happen if this got out.”

“Thankfully, they’ve asked us to investigate things internally first,” Jenks said. “They want to give us a chance to come up with a name, and quickly. From what they said, this appears to be part of a larger ongoing investigation. I think they want to find out who, if anyone, is leaking information from here so they can strengthen the case against their real target. They assured me our firm is not who they’re after.”

Michael’s stomach was in cramps. “So who are they after?”

“They wouldn’t tell me. It appears we’re caught in the crossfire.”

“I just cannot believe it.” Michael did his best to avoid Rubin’s accusatory glare. “Do you want me to see each of my team?”

“Yes, and I want to be there with you when you do. We have to get to the bottom of this quickly. The firm’s reputation is at risk.”

“I know we won’t find anything.”

“As hard as it may be to accept that we might have a leak, we have to make a thorough job of our own investigation and do all we can to come up with a name. I hate to think what damage it would do to the firm if we left the questioning to the FBI.”

“In the meantime,” Rubin said, “we’re going to assign your client workload to other partners.”

“What?”

“We need you to focus on the investigation,” said Jenks. “Nothing’s more important.”

“Think how that will look,” Michael said. “Once we start grilling my team, word will soon get around the firm. What will people say if they see me being pulled off all my client work? What will my clients think?”

“We’ll tell your clients you’re not well,” Rubin said.

“That won’t wash. I can’t see why I need to be taken off client work at all. I can handle both tasks.”

“No doubt you can, Michael, but the decision’s made,” said Jenks. “This isn’t personal. We cannot risk damaging the firm. That has to be our priority.”

“And to protect the firm, you’re prepared to throw me under the bus?”

“It’s not like that,” Jenks said. “Try to see it from our perspective.”

“That’s not how it will appear.”

Rubin bent forward. “If it comes to an outright choice, then the answer would be yes; we would sacrifice you to save the firm.”

Chapter 45

M
ICHAEL
R
ETURNED
T
O
H
IS
O
FFICE
, grabbed his briefcase, and left without talking to anyone, not even Rachel, who tried to catch him to run through his schedule for the rest of the week. It would be obvious by his face that he was upset, and the last thing he needed right now was having to explain what had just happened.

He didn’t register most of the walk to Grand Central; his head was spinning. Thankfully, the mid-afternoon train to Westport was quiet, so Michael was able to find an empty spot, where he sat and stared out of the window as it made its way out of Manhattan.

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the accusatory stares of Jenks and Rubin facing him across the table. The conversation he’d just had with them kept playing over and over in his mind. They’d treated him like a complete stranger, as if they didn’t know him. Was it because they actually suspected him, or were they just doing their job, prepared to offer him up to the wolves to save the firm? Is this what the beginning of the end felt like? In his heart, Michael had known all along he’d be found out at some stage and, whenever it happened, it was always going to be messy and embarrassing. He couldn’t really blame Jenks for something he’d brought onto himself.

The FBI had to be referring to Rondell’s firm when they said someone was trading on inside deal information coming out of Dudek’s. Who else could it be? Provided Rondell kept quiet, what hard evidence could they have on Michael? Probably very little, if any. Maybe his name was in the frame only because he was the partner on those deals that had been leaked. That would make him a suspect, but no more. After all, if they had any solid proof against him or the firm, they would never have given Jenks an opportunity to hold his own internal inquiry. The authorities would be all over them like a rash.

What if everything stopped right now? If Michael refused to give any further deal information to Rondell, might the FBI case fall away? Rondell wouldn’t like it and, no doubt, he’d threaten to speak to Caroline. But surely even he would have to understand it had to cease if the FBI had them all under close scrutiny. What purpose would Rondell have then in destroying his life? After all, he’d kept to his part of the bargain for as long as it had been possible, and it wasn’t as though Rondell hadn’t made millions already on the back of Michael’s deals. Was it possible he could he sit down and reason with the man? Probably not. Rondell was unpredictable and capable of doing anything. It might even give him some sort of perverse pleasure telling Caroline everything as his parting gift.

Michael looked out of the window, but took none of it in as he grappled with what to do next. Whatever happened to Duane? Since his trip to New Jersey, not a day had passed without Michael half-expecting to hear the news of Rondell’s murder, but he’d heard nothing. Would Duane ever go through with it? Might another visit to Manalapan help push things along? Was the delay Duane’s way of angling for more money? That had to be right. In hindsight, it would have been better to pay him half up front and half on completion. Now he had all the money, what was in it for Duane to see it through, other than more money?

If Duane moved quickly, there was still just enough time. If Rondell disappeared now, the whole thing would go away. Caroline would know nothing, the FBI would have no evidence against him, and with Rondell dead, they’d have no reason to continue their investigation. Even Jenks would have to assume there had been nothing in it.

That was it; Rondell had to disappear, and quickly.

By the time the train arrived at Westport, Michael had firmed up his plan. The first step would be to find out exactly what the delay was with Duane and, if necessary, pay him whatever he wanted to see it through to the end. When he jumped in the Lexus in the station car park, Michael looked in his briefcase for Duane’s phone number and then punched it into his iPhone.

“Yeah?” Duane said, taking Michael’s call. His tone was aggressive, and in the background, Michael could hear the buzzing of the tattoo machine. He could picture Duane sitting in his dreary office, mentally counting the cash while the humming noise was still going.

“It’s Michael. We met at your shop a few weeks ago.”

“We did?”

“We discussed some urgent business in New York. I had expected it to happen by now. You thought it would only be a couple of weeks when we met.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Was Duane being cautious in case someone was listening to their telephone conversation?

“I understand,” Michael said. “When do you think the package will be delivered?”

“Do I know you? What package?”

“Listen, if this is about more money, then that’s not a problem. If we can agree on a faster delivery, I’m happy to pay more.”

“Who is this?”

“I could drive down there now to sort this out.” Michael looked at his watch. “I could be there just after six if you don’t mind waiting.”

“You come anywhere near here, and I’ll break your fucking legs. Do you understand me?”

Chapter 46

T
HE
N
EXT
F
IVE
D
AYS
were spent in back-to-back sessions in Jenks’s office, grilling every staff member who’d been anywhere near Michael’s deals over the last six months. Jenks had insisted on being there with Michael so he could hear firsthand what each of them had to say and study their body language. Most of them reacted the same way: shock that the FBI had been in asking questions about the firm; anger that they were under suspicion; and worried how this might impact their promotion chances at the firm. Only Towers reacted in a strange manner. He’d refused to answer any questions beyond a straightforward denial that he wasn’t the one passing on confidential client information. While he said nothing to incriminate himself, Jenks was convinced Towers’s inexplicable behavior meant he was hiding something. Why else would he be so evasive? Jenks kept saying Towers must be the one they were looking for, in spite of Michael’s assurances that the young associate was a hardworking and trustworthy member of the team. Michael did his best to stop it from happening, but Jenks insisted on reporting his concerns about Towers to the FBI. As far as Jenks was concerned, they had their name.

Michael could handle the strange glances from the other partners when he walked around the office. What were they supposed to think when they knew an FBI investigation was underway and he’d been told to hand over all his current deals for them to handle? And while the calls from concerned clients were tough going, he could cope with them, too. What he struggled to carry was the burden of guilt seeing Towers being offered up to the FBI by an over-zealous Jenks, desperate to save the firm at any cost. While he’d not been present at the meeting, Jenks and Towers had met with someone from the FBI, and the news was Towers had been suspended, pending completion of the investigation.