T is for Temptation (42 page)

“I may be old, Jake, but I’m not blind, deaf, or dumb.” Henry flashed him a watery grin. “Premarital sex is a fact of life. It’s not as if Tee is a naïve young woman. She’s a widow, after all.”

He bit his lip, Tee’s innocence her story to tell, not his. “Back to her special powers, did you know that one of them is the ability to time-travel?”

Her father’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline. For a few seconds, Henry appeared speechless. Then he muttered, “Marvelous, time travel. Well, well.”

“If she’s excited or scared, she can vanish to a place she feels safe,” Jake explained.

“I saw the videotape of her disappearance at the airport.” His wonder-filled voice echoed in the taxi. “It happened, then. It really happened. Well, well. How does she do it?”

Jake threw his hands up in the air. “Beats me, but I’ve been along for the ride. In the last few days, I’ve seen Roman gladiators, Vikings, and sixteenth century Scotsmen in kilts. Although, to be fair, the Scotsmen were my fault.”

“My, my,” Henry said. “How fascinating.”

“The reason I’m telling you this is because she may have become scared or anxious and decided to go to someplace safe.”

“Possibly, but that doesn’t explain a room service cart that nobody ordered, which the hotel’s staff did not deliver,” Henry pointed out. “If it weren’t for that fact, I’d never have pressured Arthur into acting.”

“Hell, I forgot about that.” He rubbed his eyes. “I can’t think of any other explanation for her vanishing other than the time travel.”

The ubiquitous
London
roadwork held them up, and it took twice as long to get to Grosvenor as it would normally. They reached the hotel at
one o’clock
, and the concierge escorted them to Henry’s suite.

Four men and two women wearing transparent latex gloves worked in silence throughout the three rooms. A white-haired gentleman around Henry’s age greeted them as they entered the lounging area.

“Arthur, this is Jake Mathews. He and my daughter are dating. This is Sir Arthur Flood of the Met.”

Jake kept his expression neutral, but his heart hurdled a six-foot fence at Henry’s introductory words. He focused on the Met Commissioner. The man appeared the epitome of the dignified spy. Give him a tweed hat, a cape, and a pipe, and there stood Sherlock Holmes.

“Right. This is where we are. Room service, most emphatically, did not deliver this breakfast. We’ve completed preliminary analysis of the food. The orange juice and the coffee contained double doses of a potent sleeping pill. According to our experts, if your daughter consumed all the orange juice and the coffee, she would be unconscious for several hours.” Arthur showed them the empty crystal pitcher. A smidgen of orange pulp lined the circular bottom rim of the container.

“She drank it all, then?” Jake asked.

“Yes, but not the coffee.”

“Does that make a difference?” Henry inquired.

“It may. We believe whosoever did this counted on her drinking both. The orange juice alone would only make her sleep for approximately two hours.”

“Thank goodness my daughter prefers tea.”

A chill shroud enveloped Jake. “This was planned.”

“We believe so.” Arthur Flood agreed.

“By whom?”

“We’re not certain. At this moment, the money in the offshore account is our focus. Did Tallulah have access to that account?”

“No, only two people signed on that account, Tony and I.” Jake remembered Tee’s comment about the airport detention. “Why was Tee detained at the airport? And who ordered it?”

“She’s named as a director in the Trinidadian operation and in the holding company for the offshore account.”

“Can’t be. I flew to
Antigua
when we set up the holding company. Tony and I were the only ones with shares.”

“Are you aware there were two accounts?”

Flood’s words sent barbs of terror into Jake’s soul. He closed his eyes and cursed himself for being a fool.

“I found out a few days ago. Let me guess, two accounts, two companies. Blast it. Those accounts were set up before they were married. Tony set all this up deliberately.”

“We question all directors in embezzlement or laundering cases. Collusion is a natural assumption until disproved. Add to that the fact she was married to
Trent
, and suspicions were aroused. Tallulah’s circumstances, being Henry’s daughter, allowed me to circumvent normal procedures. Actually, the order to detain her up didn’t come from my office, and at this point, we haven’t been able to find the source.”

“I understand you want to question me also. Let me know what would be convenient.”

“I’ve only one question, young man. Why did you two disappear? Surely, you realized the implications of such an action.”

Hell, now what to do? Mention Tricia, the bitch, convinced Tee she’d be arrested? Did Henry even know about his wife’s phone call?

“In hindsight, I recognize it probably wasn’t the smartest choice. Tee wanted time to think, to prepare for the ordeal.”

Sir Flood’s bushy snow brow arched.

Best defense, as the football phrase goes, he went on the offensive. “Where are we at?”

“Investigating
Trent
’s colleagues. Money laundering is a dangerous occupation.”

“You may want to start with the caretaker for Henry’s island home. He’s on the payroll for Tony’s company in
Trinidad
. But, he’s the only employee who doesn’t clock in. Name of Charles.”

“Our caretaker? M’boy, first his name’s not Charles, it’s Singh, and second, he’s seventy if he’s a day.”

“Sorry, Henry. I saw him when Tee and I were at Eight Bells. He’s in his late twenties, early thirties at most. Certainly no older than I am, and he’s listed on the payroll as Charles.”

“I know nothing of this.” Henry shook his head. “Tricia handles all the help. I’m positive she doesn’t know about this. But, we haven’t visited the island home in a couple of years. Tee and I used to go regularly, but between her training and the tryouts, neither of us had the time. Excuse me while I call my wife.”

After Henry left the room, Jake suggested, “There is another individual worth targeting, Graziella Leandro. She and Tony were having an affair while Tee was his fiancée.”

The man’s face blanched, and the freckles around his nose darkened. “I hope Henry doesn’t know of this. It would wound him deeply.”

“He knows. We spoke of it.”

“You were
Trent
’s partner for a little over five months. Any theories?”

“My hunch is Tony stole the money he was supposed to launder, was preparing to exit, but got caught red-handed before he could disappear. With him dead, there’re only two people who could know what he did with the cash, Tee or me. And she’s the easier target. Whoever did this wants what they think she knows.”

“It’s a theory, but a little far-fetched.”

“Not from what we learned this morning. My lawyer traced part of the money to a Swiss account, and we met with the bank’s management team this morning.” Jake sighed and tunneled both hands through his hair. “It’s a passcode electronic account, requires two passcodes and one optical print.”

“Optical. Not good. Hard to obtain records. If you’re correct, this doesn’t bode well for Henry’s daughter. The Swiss authorities will block any attempt to force revealing the identities of the account holders.”

And you don’t know the half of it, particularly Graziella Leandro’s venom and wrath
, Jake thought. Whoever had Tee, the sums involved were staggering. He’d seen greed rape the humanity right out of a person, even the wealthiest businessman.

“I’ll have research start on those two individuals, but I’ll also expand the search to families, close friends. Meanwhile, we’re holding a press conference and establishing a toll-free line to see if we can drum up any leads.”

“Interpol’s investigation led to an Afghan source for the money. Every report I’ve ever read indicates drug kings from that area are lethal,” Jake stated.

“And ruthless. I’m afraid if we can’t turn up a lead within the next few hours, our chances of finding her are slim.”

Sir Flood’s grim expression sent another knife into Jake’s heart. He had to pose the question. “They’ll kill her either way, won’t they?”

“Most probably.”

The terse answer shaved years off his life.

“What can I do?” Jake forced himself to focus on analysis.

“We’re questioning the hotel guests to see if anyone noticed anything. She was drugged and therefore couldn’t walk out on her own accord. We’re checking for the obvious, an ambulance, stretchers, wheelchairs. If they need information from her, our analysts believe they’ll take her somewhere isolated where they can question her.”

“I presume the methods of inquiry include torture?”

Sir Flood nodded.

Jake’s blood congealed, and he shut the images the words conjured out of his mind. He could not panic. It became vital to focus on finding Tee and believing she still lived.

At that moment Henry returned, fingering his silver-dusted goatee, a gesture he succumbed to on rare occasions. Military-trained, his disciplined self-control didn’t allow the broadcasting of anxiety.

“My wife was unaware of a new caretaker at Eight Bells. She checked our bank statements, and as of this month, Singh’s salary was deposited into his account. She called his daughter and spoke with her. Apparently, Tony gave Singh a three-month leave of absence, and he’s travelling the
Caribbean
. The daughter’s received a couple of postcards, but nothing recently.”

“I don’t believe it for a second. Tony, generous to his employees? No way. He had the old colonial master style of management. We always bickered about employee benefits. Ten to one, the only transactions on Singh’s accounts are the monthly deposits. He got rid of the man.”

“Murder? That’s a big jump.”

“Is it?”Had Tee told him about Tony’s attempts on her life?

“If, as Jake says, over four hundred million passed through that
Antigua
account, even if
Trent
only stole a tenth of it, which is the traditional skimming amount, forty million is enough to kill for,” Flood said.

“Certainly enough to warrant setting an example, Arthur, this doesn’t bode well for my daughter’s safe return.” Henry’s brow creased. “Tricia’s hysterical. I’ve never seen her lose control, not in public, and she was in the middle of her crochet club meeting when I spoke with her. I have to get back to her. Excuse me.”

Brought up short by the thought of Tee’s mother un-composed, Jake stared at Henry’s retreating back. Her father obviously loved her, but her mother? Maybe the woman had some redeeming qualities after all. Shrugging off the issue as one of minor importance, Jake decided on aggressive action. It would keep him focused.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked of Sir Arthur.

“Appreciate the offer. Henry and I agreed to use this suite as a base. It’ll be manned 24/7, and of course, the phones are monitored. We’d like to monitor yours as well.”

Jake gave him the number, and Flood returned the favor.

“I’m heading back to Claridge’s. My phone will be on, and I’ll call Henry hourly for updates.”

Less than a mile separated the two
London
landmarks, and he opted to walk, figuring fresh air might serve to clear his washing-machine-churning brain. The minute the cool air hit his face, the original vision, the one he’d had the moment he met Tallulah Inglefield, burned his pupils, the two of them on a bed playing with a dark-haired, pink-cheeked baby who gurgled and cooed and grabbed chubby feet with tiny hands.