He reached into the dead man's right pants pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Justin flipped through it, over two thousand dollars in hundreds. So much for robbery. He shifted Evan's body, pulled a wallet from the back pocket. Driver's license, two different American Express cards, one MasterCard, all platinum. An ID card for Harmon's money management company, Ascension-it looked like one of those treated IDs that allowed you to open lobby doors and pass through turnstiles so you could get into the right elevator bank of a large building.
Justin spent two minutes just crouching over the body, staring at it. The strange, multiple burn wounds on the arms and legs and torso. The bloody sweater. The bloodstained pants. The highly polished black loafers, worn without socks. Two minutes was long enough for what he needed. He had the mental picture in his head. From here on in, the CSU guys could come in and gather their facts. And he was happy to let them do so.
Justin was a big believer in facts. But he knew that facts were only part of what composed any kind of final truth. He wasn't sure he could define what the rest of the composition was. Only that, like those damn nail clippers, it was, on the surface, usually unimportant, overlooked. But underneath that surface, it was usually the key. And the key fit a door that led to places most people would never want to go.
Downstairs, in the living room, Abigail was sipping another vodka. A dull glaze was starting to cloud her eyes.
Forrest Bannister sat where Justin had left him, the color still drained from his face. He kept making the effort to sit up straight but didn't seem to have the strength, so he'd move, without warning, from a rigid position, staring straight ahead, to slumped over, head in hands. Occasionally, he made a sound that was somewhere between a sad, lonely sigh and a strangled sob.
"Mr. Bannister," Justin said. He thought the man might be nearing a state of shock, so he spoke firmly, trying to get him to snap to attention.
Bannister slowly turned to face Justin. For a moment, he registered confusion, as if they'd never met, then he seemed to remember where he was and who was speaking to him. He nodded as a response, an indication that he was able to understand that his name had been spoken aloud.
"Mr. Bannister, I'd like to know what you're doing here."
"Excuse me?"
"Why are you here?"
The man didn't seem to understand the question and shook his head as if to clear it. "Because Evan told me to come."
"Told you to?"
Bannister seemed to realize how the phrase must have sounded so he emended it. "He asked me if I could."
"What time was this?"
"What time did he call, you mean?"
"Yes."
"I guess around seven. Maybe a little earlier than that. A quarter to. Six-thirty."
"And what time did you get here?"
"Around ten."
"Why the delay?"
Bannister seemed even more confused. "What delay?"
Justin cleared his throat and twisted a crick out of his neck. "What were you doing for the three hours in between the call and the time you got here?"
"I was driving. I took a shower and had to change my clothes, then I had to get the car-"
"Where were you driving from?"
"The city."
"Manhattan?"
He nodded. "The Upper East Side."
"What was so urgent or private that Mr. Harmon couldn't discuss with you over the phone?"
"Nothing. He just wanted me here."
Justin glanced over at Abby. The look on his face said, What the fuck is going on here? The look on her face gave him nothing in return.
"Forrest," Justin said, "were you in the habit of dropping everything and driving a hundred miles just because Evan Harmon asked you to?"
"Yes, I was."
"And why do you think he wanted you here tonight?"
Forrest Bannister allowed a thin, sad smile to curve his lips only after he gave a long, hard look at Abigail Harmon. "I think he was just lonely," Bannister said.
"You're a heartless prick," she told him.
"And you're a selfish bitch," he spat right back.
In the silence that followed, Abby put her drink down on the table. "Jay," she said slowly. "Excuse me… Chief Westwood…" Now her voice betrayed the tiniest slurring of words and syllables. "Forrest worked for Evan. He made a lot of money off Evan. So he, like many people, was at Evan's beck and call. Also," she said, picking her drink back up, "he was a little bit in love with Evan."
Bannister swiveled to stare at Abby. "More in love with him than you were, that's for damn sure!"
Abby ignored Bannister now. She was staring at Justin, giving him an answer to his what-the-fuck-is-going-on-here look.
Bannister realized that his outbursts were inappropriate. He did his best to look dignified, and said, "I'm Evan's CFO. We've worked together for over ten years. Starting at Merrill Lynch. I didn't go with him to Rockworth and Williams. But when he started Ascension, his hedge fund, he called and I came."
"Do you think there was a reason he wanted you here tonight? Other than loneliness? A business reason?"
"Maybe. He was very concerned about Ellis St. John."
"Who is…?"
"Ascension's prime broker. He's at Rockworth. He may have wanted to talk about Elly."
"And what was the problem with… Elly?"
"I don't know. I just know that Evan was unhappy with him. I believe he was thinking of making a change."
"Changing brokers?"
"Changing his primary broker. We use quite a few different brokers."
"But you have no idea why he'd want to change?"
"I don't know for sure that's what he wanted. It's just a guess on my part." He shrugged in a strange kind of false modesty. "An educated guess."
"He never discussed this unhappiness or this desire to change?"
"Not in any great depth. Just hints. Bits and pieces."
"How about giving me some of the bits?"
"It wasn't anything major. Evan felt Elly was a tad… well… ambitious."
"And that's bad?"
"It was a question of personal ambition compared to ambition for the good of the company."
"He steered Evan toward bad investments for his personal gain?"
"I don't know that. As I said, Evan never got that specific with me." Forrest bit his lip, as if debating whether to speak further. It was the kind of gesture a flirtatious teenage girl would have made. "Frankly, I think some of it was that he just didn't like Elly."
"Thass not true." It was Abby speaking now. Facing Justin, she said, "Evan liked Ellis. Really did." She turned to Forrest. "Liked him a helluva lot more'n he liked you."
"I'm not going to get down in the mud with you," the CFO said. "I'm just not. I know what Evan thought about me. And I know what he thought about you, too."
Justin stepped in between them. "How big is Ascension, Forrest? How large is the fund?"
"I don't think I should be giving out that kind of information."
"Almost two billion dollars," Abby said. The word "dollars" came out as "dollarsh." "Give or take a few hundred million."
Justin kept his eyes on Forrest. By the aggravated look on the man's face, Justin thought Abby's estimate was probably accurate. This was clearly a man who liked to control information. It was the only power he had. "What happened when you got here?" Justin asked the CFO. "Walk me through it."
The thin man nodded. He seemed to be regaining strength from being the sudden center of attention. "I got to the driveway and the gate was open…"
"Was that unusual?"
"Yes. I usually had to punch in the code to open it. Most people had to use the intercom, but I had the code." He was obviously proud of this access.
"That's good," Justin said quickly. He spoke up because Abby was rolling her eyes at Forrest's misplaced smugness. He wanted her to keep quiet for a bit so he could get what he needed from this strange and strangely sad man. "So the gate was open. What then?"