The Legacy: A Kimberly & Sykes Mystery Novel (11 page)

Standing at the kitchen counter with her arms folded, Lauren’s eyes never wavered as she talked to Sykes. “What if it’s all semantics? We’ve been using ‘prototype’ and ‘analyzer’ interchangeably. But what if they’re two different things?”

Sykes frowned and cocked his head to the side as he listened. “Okay…go on.…”

“My dad always made prototypes, sometimes several. Investors have to see a working model. Some of the prototypes never ended up looking anything like his final product, but they had to demonstrate how it would work so the investors could see the value in what he was trying to do. The prototypes had no finesse, they were very rudimentary.”

“And what we have here is a prototype, not the actual analyzer,” he stated.

“Exactly!”

“Then we still need to find the analyzer.”

“But we don’t even know if he made one. The prototype could be as far as he got. Did anyone actually see a demonstration of a working analyzer?” Lauren walked back and forth across the kitchen punching her finger into the air with each point. “This. Is. it. This is what Smith was looking for, so please, just call him. Tell him we’ve found it and let me go home.”

“Lauren, if this was the real thing, why aren’t the diamonds here as well. We’ve gone through this place with a fine toothcomb and haven’t found them. Maybe this is just the prototype. If your dad wanted high quality diamonds so he could run final tests then that can only mean one thing – he wasn’t testing the prototype, he was testing the final machine, the analyzer. We still need to find the analyzer and diamonds.”

Lauren massaged the bridge of her nose. “From the beginning I have been telling you that this doesn’t feel right. My dad was many things, but he was never a thief. What if this is as far as he got? What if he couldn’t get the prototype to work? Maybe that’s why he killed himself.”

“Come on Lauren! He got fifteen million dollars worth of diamonds! He must have used them to test something, and I doubt it was this hunk of acrylic!” It was Sykes’ turn to express his frustration.

“How do you know my dad got fifteen million dollars in diamonds? Did you give them to him?”

“No, Daniels gave them to him. Your father reported directly to Daniels.” A frown crossed over Sykes’ face and he turned abruptly, walking out of the kitchen. Lauren followed him out the front door and saw he already had his cell phone to his ear.

“Give me a few minutes Lauren.” She shrugged, and went back inside.

Lauren poured herself another glass of Wendy Barton’s wine, hesitating before sipping. What if she was an alcoholic, just like her father. Would she end up killing herself too? Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she nibbled on some sea salt crackers she found in the cupboard. Alcoholic, or not, when Sykes returned twenty minutes later, Lauren was topping up her wine glass again.

“I’ve called Smith and let him know we’ve found what we think is the analyzer. The machine won’t fit in my car; he is sending a couple of guys over to collect it. They should be here in about an hour. He is also going to send out a team to search the house for the diamonds, they will be coming in the morning.”

“Wendy will have a fit! We can’t let a bunch of guys just rip her house apart.”

“I’m not stupid Lauren,” Sykes said testily. “This is a team of professionals. They will be in and out leaving no sign they were here at all. For god’s sake, Do you really think I am that thoughtless?”

Sykes picked up the packet of crackers, tipped some into the bowl, and poured himself a large glass of wine. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. I know what I’m doing. Give me some credit here please.”

Lauren expelled a long sigh and slumped back in the chair, slumping forward. Sykes was right. “I’m sorry. I just want to go home. I don’t care about the finder’s fee; I just want to get my life back,” she said keeping her tears at bay. “So, what now? Do we just wait until they come to pick it up?”

Sykes’ nodded and flopped down into the armchair with the bowl of crackers and his wine.

“You never answered my earlier question: what if my father never got the diamonds?”

“Right at this moment, I doubt that he did.”

Lauren’s head snapped up. “What did you just say?” The sound of a car pulling in to the driveway halted all further conversation.

Daniels woke up with a start. The porter was shaking his shoulder, telling him service was closing for the evening. A shiver ran down Daniels’ spine and he longed for the comfort that had enveloped him earlier.  The fire was much lower than when he last noticed and his bottle of wine stood empty. He must have slept for a couple of hours. Rubbing his hands across his face, he tried to erase the memory of Volkov.

“Arrange a room for me while I visit the washroom.”

“Yes sir, of course.”

When Daniels returned, he found his room key and a small card showing his room number in gold embossed letters waiting on a silver tray. The porter had worked fast. Daniels found himself in a small suite on the third floor, the room pleasantly warm as the propane fireplace flickered brightly and cast a warm glow throughout. The drapes were drawn, shutting out the night, the fresh air from the opened window fluttered in from the behind drapes. The white cotton bed cover was pulled back and a royal blue linen robe lay draped over the edge of the bed.

Daniels went to the drinks cupboard and chose a bottle of 2009 Bordeaux. Of much lesser quality than the one he had consumed earlier, yet still a good vintage, it would do.

Frank Daniels never was one for hard liquor. He would rather savor a glass of wine late in the evening than a Scotch or Cognac, probably because he could stay on his legs longer and not have a debilitating headache the next morning. Still feeling unsettled from his earlier memories, Daniels was not ready to go to sleep. He sat in front of the fire with a glass of wine in his hand and let his thoughts drift. The events of the last several months had taxed him.

Make no bones about it; Daniels was a typical gambling addict who refused to believe he had a problem.

Frank Daniels owed a lot of money to some very bad people. They had threatened him with repercussions of the sort that sent cold sweat running down his spine. He feared for his life. Instead of seeking help, he relied on gambling as his way out. It made sense to Daniels that the more he gambled, the more opportunity he had to win big. Moreover, he was overdue a big win. Daniels could taste it. He could feel it in his bones. Daniels was convinced he was destined to win enough to pay off his debts with plenty left over to keep him comfortable for the rest of his life. For that, he needed a big infusion of capital to play the tables.

If the Limousine man - Volkov, hadn’t stepped in and bought his debts, Daniels was certain he would already have won back his losses and be home free. Though he had tried, he was unable to discover how Volkov knew of him, and the corporate plans to develop a diamond analyzer. None of it mattered now, in a few more days Volkov would be just a bad memory.

The sound of rowdy night-time revelers brought Daniels back to the present. He got up and moved the drapes aside, peering into the darkness. A crowd of loud young men passed beneath his window and staggered down the street. Daniels glanced up and down before closing the window and letting the drapes fall back into place.

Comfortably warm, Daniels turned down the fire and sat back in the chair. It was late; the club so quiet he wondered if he might be the only guest. It didn’t bother Daniels that he was alone with the overnight staff. He had his wine and a comfortable bed. Laughing, he raised his glass in salute to himself. “Get used to it Frankie. Another couple of weeks and you’ll be King of your own castle again.” He drank heartily and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. The warmth of the room and his excessive drinking soon had him dozing.

******

A few weeks earlier, Daniels heard the dreaded voice of Ivan Volkov at the other end of his phone. Faced with a set of instructions, Daniels knew he had to comply if he wanted to live, and be free from the fear that crippled him. The limousine man, as he always thought of Volkov, told Daniels that his debt was due. He had one week to act on the instructions. Daniels was awake all that night trying to come up with a way he could carry out the task he had been set. It appeared to be insurmountable.

Then fate stepped in to play.

Mike Kimberly called Daniels to inform him of some major problems. Daniels arranged to meet him immediately, with Volkov’s threat hanging over his head the project had to stay on schedule at all costs.

Daniels hadn’t seen Kimberly since the day he moved out of the lab and was shocked when Kimberly opened his door. Kimberly looked as though he hadn’t slept for a week. His hair was lank and greasy and he had a few days' stubble on his cheeks. He struggled to talk coherently, babbling non-stop. After calming him down, Daniels’ heart jumped in his mouth when Kimberley explained the problem.

The data uncovered significant anomalies with the core samples. It had taken Kimberly several days to narrow down the source. It wasn’t the data, it was the actual samples.

Daniels’ bowels lurched, the cramp in his stomach so severe he had to go to the bathroom. When he returned, Kimberly continued. It was really very simple, he had said. Local geological data from the source site was used to program the analyzer to establish a base reading. Then, the core sample taken from that site was analyzed. Kimberly noticed immediately that, according to the resulting date, the core sample couldn’t have come from the source site.

The error reports the analyzer was spewing could only happen if the core sample had been contaminated. After running several additional tests with new sets of core samples, Kimberly came to the conclusion someone had tampered with them. The core samples could not have come from the locations indicated. Millions of dollars would have to be spent to dig the core samples again at all the mine sites.

The analyzer was far more advanced than Daniels knew was possible. He advised Kimberly to keep his concerns quiet so that he could order an immediate investigation without alerting whoever was doing the tampering. Relieved to hand off the problem, Kimberly said the only way to test the analyzer would be to use diamonds already extracted from open mines and compare them with the historical geographical data. Even though they already knew the mines were rich in deposits, at least they could verify that the analyzer worked because the test results should validate the same. Daniels agreed to get the sign-off from Smith.

Daniels had two problems. The first was informing the limousine man that he was unable to complete the task he had been set. He couldn’t steal the analyzer and deliver it to him before it finished the trials. Unfortunately, his good fortune was short lived. Volkov demanded the analyzer ahead of time saying if the analyzer was that sophisticated it worked well enough for him. He wanted it delivered immediately.

Daniels second problem was finding a way to keep Kimberly quiet while he came up with an escape plan. Once he had given Volkov the analyzer Daniels had to skip town. Timing was crucial. Stressed more than he had been before, Daniels focused on formulating his plan.

By the time he had the written sign-off for the Kimberly’s diamonds from Adam Smith he had the beginnings of a plan in his mind. He would get the analyzer from Kimberly even if he had to kill him.

He didn’t have to.

Mike Kimberly was already dead when he went to his apartment. All he had to do now was grab the analyzer, give it to Volkov, and use the diamonds to fund a better life somewhere nice, hot, and close to a casino.

It had taken three sweep through the apartment before he found it. An hour later, it was in Volkov’s hands.

Though the room was warm, Daniels shivered remembering his last conversation with Volkov.

“Your debt is paid in full? You think this is the end Daniels?” Volkov had laughed hard. “The end Daniels? There is no end.”

Back at Wendy Barton’s house, Smith’s men came for the machine. Whatever it was, the prototype or analyzer, they would soon know. Lauren was exhausted. It was a long time since she had felt so tired and she knew instinctively, until this was over, she was not going to feel any better.

“I want to be here in the morning when the search team comes,” she said.

Sykes, with the hint of a smile on his lips said, “Yes I thought you would.” Lauren was so sure Sykes was going to refuse; she was completely surprised when he agreed.

“We can’t sleep here. It’s too far to go back to your place, however, there is a hotel just up the highway. Let’s check in there for the night and come back first thing.”

Lauren squinted her eyes and said, “Am I missing something?”

Sykes laughed. “No. I just know you expected me to say you couldn’t be here, but, I would want to be here if I was in your shoes. I know the team will leave the place spotless. Wendy Barton will have no idea her house has been searched with a fine toothcomb. You don’t know that, and so you want to be here. I get it Lauren.”

Lauren felt something had just shifted between them. She nodded with slight smile. “Thanks for understanding. I told Wendy I would call her this evening to let her know everything was OK with her house. It’s too late now, I will call her in the morning. She is probably out of it with pain killers by now anyway.”

This time Sykes drove. It wasn’t long before they were booked into a shared room at the five Star Continental Hotel in the city center. Feeling embarrassed that they had no luggage, Lauren had stepped back and let Sykes check them in. She wasn’t surprised to hear him use an assumed name, but she was to see him pay with a credit card. Once the hotel room door was closed, she wanted answers.

“It’s not an assumed name really. The credit card is legit, it’s a corporate card. You have to remember Lauren; I’m the head of security and work in some very difficult locations. American’s are not welcome in some parts of the world; it’s safer for me to work undercover.”

“O.K. That makes sense I guess. But why the double room?”

Sykes told her that it was quite simple; he had no sleep the night before, and, while the hotel should be safe, he was taking no chances. Lauren knew she felt safer with him around and agreed. The car parked outside her apartment, and the man following her had left her on edge. Sykes removed his shoes and jacket and lay on the bed closest to the door. When he lifted up his hips and removed a gun from the back of his waistband, Lauren thought nothing of it. She was getting used to Sykes and his surprises. She watched him push the gun under his pillow as she walked to the bathroom.

Lauren took a long, hot shower, trying to wash away the dirt and grime that had covered her while searching the attic, crawl space, and garage. It wasn’t until she dried herself she realized she had nothing to wear other than the soiled clothes discarded on the bathroom floor. She wrapped herself in the large, white, hotel bathrobe and tied the belt tighter than necessary. When she walked out of the bathroom, Sykes was lying awake, as she had left him.

“My turn,” he said jumping off the bed.

Still wearing the robe, Lauren slid under the sheets. The robe made her feel hot and uncomfortable but she didn’t want to sleep naked with Sykes lying just a few feet away.

Lauren needn’t have worried. She was fast asleep before he came out of the bathroom.