Relatively Dead (13 page)

She led us to a small room Adam used as an office at home. He was on the phone, apparently with a client, but he waved us to a couple of chairs that looked as if they had just been brought in from a kitchen table. The room was cluttered with books and papers. Its chief feature was a computer Adam worked on as he talked.

After several minutes he hung up the phone and turned his attention to us. He and Rigo did a complicated high five. When he turned to me with a big smile, I stuck my hand out to keep him from hugging me. There were two reasons I didn’t want him to hug me: Rigo and Sue. He settled for a handshake.

“Carol,”—he called me Carol even though my accounts with him were in the name of Cynthia Sakai—“why didn’t you tell me you were coming to California?”

“It was an unplanned visit. The question I have for you today doesn’t have anything to do with my accounts.”

“I’m always glad to see you. But let’s set up an appointment so we can have an account review at my office.”

“Maybe in a couple of days. It looks like I’m going to be here for a while. But right now, let me tell you what’s been happening.” I gave a quick recap of what had brought me to California, told him a little about Jason III’s murder, and then gave a summary of the previous evening, which was news to Rigo, also.

When I talked about the syndicate, Adam started cutting in with questions, but I asked him to hold them until I finished. When I’d described what I knew about it as well as I could, I asked him what he thought.

“You weren’t really going to invest in it, were you?”

“No. I was just trying to find out as much about it as I could. It sounded too good to be true.”

“Just wanted to make sure. Adam’s first rule of investing: If it sounds too good to be true, it is too good to be true. I know you’re too smart to fall for something like that. Have you heard of Bernie Madoff?”

“Vaguely.”

“He’s a twenty-first century legend. He swindled investors out of billions of dollars using a Ponzi scheme, named after Charles Ponzi who was active in 1920. Basically, early investors are paid off with the money from later investors. The perpetrators won’t tell you what they’re investing in because no actual investment takes place. Either that or they rig up phony statements.”

Rigo’s eyes opened wide. “You’re dealing with a bunch of crooks.”

I was beginning to see the light. “They paid the first investors double their original investment after six months. If they continue to do that, they’ll have to double the amount they take in from investors every six months.”

Adam nodded. “You’re the math whiz, Carol. Tell me what the consequences are.”

“It’s like the old puzzle where you’re offered a choice of either a million dollars or a chessboard on which will be placed a penny on the first square, two cents on the second, doubling the amount on each of the sixty-four squares. Of course, before you’ve reached the last square you’ll have all the money in the world.”

***

“Are you going to the police?”

Rigo’s question was a good one. Good enough that I pulled the car over to the curb several blocks from Adam’s house.

“The problem is, I have no evidence. They didn’t give me anything in writing. Nobody is going to testify against these people. The early investors are happy because they doubled their money, but they don’t want the IRS to know. The current investors are hoping to double their money, but if the police intervened they’d undoubtedly lose their investments. Questioning the investors would be like questioning the brick walls of Jason’s apartment building.”

“There must be bank accounts—”

“Sure, but untangling finances isn’t a police job unless people are complaining, and nobody is. However, I do have to make one phone call.”

I called Nelly on my cell phone. I had no idea how late she’d stayed at the party, but this was important. She answered it after several rings, sounding groggy.

“Nelly, it’s Aiko.”

“Aiko?” She sounded surprised. “Is that your real name?”

I hesitated, and then thought telling the whole truth might make me more credible to her. “My legal name is Cynthia Sakai. I’m Jason’s cousin. I thought I’d find out more if his friends didn’t think I was a relative.”

“I knew it. What do you want?”

“Do you know what a Ponzi scheme is?”

She didn’t. I tried to explain it to her for five minutes. She didn’t believe me when I told her the leaders of the syndicate weren’t investing in anything. She clung to the idea they’d found some sort of magic dart to pick big winners. I told her to ask for her money back and walk away, but she had a million reasons why she couldn’t do that. Chief among them, I suspected, was she wanted to believe in the tooth fairy.

I finally became exasperated and gave up. If I couldn’t save one person, I certainly couldn’t bring down the whole syndicate. That wasn’t my purpose in life. I was trying to find a murderer.

Beside me, Rigo looked concerned. “You know, you can’t beat this thing all by yourself. All you’re going to do is get yourself killed, like Jason did.”

“I wonder if Marcia, Jason’s girlfriend, killed him because he was threatening the scheme. Maybe he got cold feet. From what I’ve heard about him he was a good guy, not a swindler.”

“If you have suspicions, go to the police.”

“Again, zero proof. They’ve already talked to Marcia. I’m sure they’ve checked to see if she’s a registered gun owner. Nobody saw a gun. Nobody heard the shot. Based on how loud the band was, I’m not surprised. The killer goes with Jason to the ladder and shoots him after he starts down. Killer has back to the crowd so nobody sees the gun. Loud music drowns out the noise of the shot. Nobody realizes Jason has fallen. Killer mingles with the crowd.

“There’s nothing unusual about seeing Jason and Marcia together, so nobody pays any attention and can’t remember whether they were at the ladder together or not. The partiers don’t actually know Jason fell until some time later, because they don’t hear the cries of the people on the beach walk who see him fall. It isn’t until they hear sirens—”

“Promise me you’ll drop this investigation. It’s not like finding your own identity. We’re talking about a distant cousin here.”

“We shared genes.” I didn’t want to argue with Rigo. It was a beautiful day. “You know where I’d like to go? The San Diego Wild Animal Park. I’ve wanted to see it ever since you told me what a great place it is. It’ll give me a chance to drive this car somewhere other than the mean streets of L.A.”

“Sounds good, but we’d better get going if we want to get there before it closes. Go down Crenshaw to PCH and turn right.”

“You make a good GPS.”

“I’m glad I’m of some use to you.”

CHAPTER 16

I enjoyed going through the gears of the Porsche as I climbed curvy Route 74 out of Hemet and drove into the San Jacinto Mountains. Maybe I could be a race car driver. That is, if I didn’t consider sixty as being fast. All right, I’d hit seventy a few times on the freeways, but Danica Patrick I wasn’t.

At Mountain Center I took the fork to mile-high Idyllwild, set amid the stately pine trees—Ponderosa and Sugar Pine. Jason told me their names while selling me on a visit. I opened my window so I could inhale their aroma.

Yesterday had been a dreamy day—for a while. Rigo opened up to me during the drive to the Wild Animal Park, talking about his ideas for expanding his parents’ company. Now that he’d stopped washing dishes and dithering about being a therapist, he’d apparently found his true calling in the business world. I liked to think I had a hand in that. I’d urged him to use his computer skills to help the family business become more efficient, and his resistance to taking a handout, as he called it, had finally been overcome. It wasn’t a handout when you were increasing profits.

At the park we rode the monorail around the large open space where the animals lived in the great outdoors, breeding prolifically to prove how happy they were. We walked hand-in-hand to the elephant show and along the hilly paths to see lions and tigers and other more remote exhibits.

It wasn’t until the ride home that things got a bit sticky. Rigo started talking about the future—our future together. The problem was, how could I plan for the future when I barely had a past? As far as my memory was concerned, I’d only lived for a few months. I was still finding myself. I wasn’t ready to make any firm plans for the future.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Rigo—loved him, even. I was certain my feelings for him went well beyond the gratitude I felt for him because he’d found me in the Dumpster and probably saved my life. But… In any case, this put a damper on the day and solidified my decision to visit Jason in Idyllwild on Sunday instead of spending the day with Rigo.

As I pulled into the center of Idyllwild, with its woodsy buildings, my GPS told me how to get to a spot called Fern Valley where Jason’s cabin was. The sturdy cabin was made of redwood and set on a large lot along with dozens of pine trees, at least one of which had a base that must be four or five feet in diameter.

I pulled into the short, semi-circular gravel driveway behind Jason’s SUV. Jason met me at the front door with a hug. “Did you have any trouble getting here?”

“No. The car knew where to go. It must be designed for climbing hills.”

Jason looked at home. He was casually dressed in khaki pants and shirt, both with many pockets. How did he remember which pocket he’d placed something in? He gave me a quick tour of the cabin, which was two rooms plus a bathroom. The living room had a stone fireplace and a window with a view of a tall and steep granite rock Jason called Lily Rock.

The walls were knotty pine. At the other end of the room the kitchen was located behind a counter, with a small dining table on the living room side. The second room was the bedroom. I was wondering where I was going to sleep when he pointed out that the couch in the living room unfolded into a bed.

I needed to talk to Jason regarding his grandson. I was looking for a way to lead in to that when he surprised me.

“I’m glad you got here early.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided instead of thrashing around to get up and get started.” I’d said good-bye to Ernie and Tina, but Rigo was still in bed when I left.

“That’s good because it gives us plenty of time for something you might like to do. Are you up for a hike? How’s your poison oak?”

“Still there, but I’ve been running. How big a hike?”

“Idyllwild is underneath a mountain called Tahquitz Peak. It’s a ten-mile roundtrip from Humber Park with a twenty-four hundred foot gain in altitude.”

“It sounds as if you know it well.”

“Yeah, well I’m climbed it thirty or forty times. There may still be snow on the trail, so we have to dress warmly. I haven’t climbed it yet this year.”

“As long as we don’t climb Lily Rock. That looks awfully steep.”

“It is. I’ve only climbed it once. There’s quite a bit of exposure near the top.”

“I don’t do exposure.”

“The trail up Tahquitz isn’t near any gut-wrenching cliffs.”

“Good.” Jason was obviously excited about climbing the mountain. I couldn’t tell him no. “I’m traveling light. I’ve got a sweater and sweatshirt with me. Will those and my running shoes be all right?”

“Sounds good. Your shoes should be fine. You’ve got good balance. I wear hiking boots with lug soles. Better for an old guy.”

Jason was wearing his boots. He pulled trail lunches, already prepared, out of the refrigerator. He had water bottles, a small first aid kit, and two day packs. He would have been very disappointed had I said no.

***

We stopped at the ranger station to pick up our trail permit. Then we parked in Humber Park at the upper end of Idyllwild. The altitude was 6,400 feet. A quick calculation told me Tahquitz Peak must be 8,800 feet high. I’d never been that high on land.

We started up the trail through a pine forest. It wasn’t overly steep, but I was still surprised at how easily Jason navigated the trail. I would have to revise my picture of senior citizens some more. We were able to carry on a conversation. I was about to bring up the subject of Jason III when Jason II did it for me.

“Jason and I hiked this trail together a number of times. He was a good hiker. Loved the outdoors.” His voice trailed off.

“I went to the party at his apartment house Friday night.”

“You did?” Jason looked surprised. “They had another party? On the roof?”

“Yes. I was surprised, too. I got some information. Have you heard of an investment group called a syndicate?”

“No. Who’s involved?”

“Apparently, Jason was involved in it.”

As I explained how the syndicate worked, Jason’s face grew darker and darker. I didn’t want to hurt him, but he had to know. I tried to downplay the role of Jason III, partly because I wasn’t sure how involved he was, but Jason II wasn’t buying it.

“Jason had an MBA. Since this syndicate involved money, I’m sure he was right in the thick of it. He was besmirching the honor of our family.”

Jason looked so upset I wanted to try to put Jason III’s involvement in a better light. “One theory I have is he might have been killed because he wanted out when he realized how bad it was. I can even picture Marcia, his girlfriend, killing him.”