Faith said, "Somebody's already suggested Norris was hired to sabotage the building, then killed to cover it up. I don't see how you could benefit if the construction is stopped."
"I couldn't. I have a lot of personal money tied up in that project, and the investment only pays off once it's completed and generating income."
Cochrane frowned suddenly and looked at Kane. "Why did you ask about the warehouse? What has that to do with any of this?"
Kane's gaze dropped to his clasped hands. "We have ... reason to believe that warehouse is where Dinah was held at least part of the time she was missing."
"Kane, no." Sydney was staring at him. "Jordan had nothing to do with that. Not Dinah's disappearance or...or her murdered"
Faith said, "My guess is that it was yet another way his enemies thought they could chip away at what mattered in his life. Mr. Cochrane, you said the blackmailers threatened to send photographs to your wife?"
"Yes."
"Then they knew it was Sydney you were involved with."
"Yes."
"What better way to drive a stake into the heart of that relationship than to have you suspected of having tortured and murdered her brother's fiancée?"
"I would never have believed that," Sydney said fiercely.
Faith wasn't surprised by the loyalty, having watched them together. But she said, "It wouldn't have been pleasant, though. And for all we know, the real killers might have evidence they mean to plant against him. At the very least, by holding Dinah in the Cochrane warehouse, they've managed to involve him."
"Assuming the police discover that," Kane rended her.
"Oh, I imagine they'll be led to discover it. Unless we can figure out the truth before then." Faith spoke absently, her mind fully occupied in trying to do just that. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and brought out a copy of the list they had found. "Take a look at these names, Mr. Cochrane. They're the men Dinah suspected were being blackmailed. Do any of the other names mean anything to you?"
He stared down at the list. "Mason is dead, suicide. Carson ... Hayes ... Swain ... Cordon..."
"We know they're all involved in construction in some form," Kane said. "Is there anything else you know of that these five men have — or had — in common with you?"
Cochrane looked up, a sudden realization on his grim face. "Just one thing. I wouldn't know in the ordinary way because he's so damned discreet, but I accidentally saw some files in his office one day. Conrad Masterson. We all use him to manage our personal money."
In the darkness of the sedan's backseat, Faith said, "If Dinah had shown the list to Cochrane ... she might not be dead. She would have known to be wary of Masterson."
"Conrad. Jesus." Kane was still coping with the shock.
"Only someone who thoroughly understood Jordan Cochrane's financial situation could know where and how to strike at him. That makes sense, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but..." With barely suppressed anger, Kane said, "I can't believe Conrad would have hurt Dinah. I always thought he was the least violent man I'd ever met in my life."
"Maybe he didn't. We've always known there was more than one person involved in this. Maybe Conrad works for or with whoever killed Dinah. Or maybe it's just a huge coincidence." She watched his profile, visible only now and again in the streetlights they passed. "Look, we've done all we can tonight. Richardson was right — we have to let him talk to the other men and find out if they can point to Conrad."
She forced a note of humor into her voice. "In fact, we're lucky he didn't throw us both in jail after we told him about finding Cochrane — and all the other bits and pieces we'd kept to ourselves."
The hour or so in Richardson's office had not been easy, but Faith was still glad she had been able to persuade Kane to go that route rather than follow his first instinct — to find Conrad Masterson. Of course, it had helped her cause when a couple of phone calls had found Masterson neither at his home nor his office, and so temporarily out of Kane's reach.
"He'll get over it," Kane said, referring to Richard son. "And sooner rather than later if the information we gave him helps him solve a few crimes."
From the front seat, the bodyguard said, "You folks still want to go by your office, Mr. Macgregor?"
"I know it's getting late, Sam, but..."
"Don't mind me or Steve here," the bodyguard said with a faint gesture toward the driver. "We get time and a half."
"The office it is, then." Kane lowered his voice and said to Faith, "Are you sure you don't mind? I want to pick up the master blueprints for the Ludlow building and see if I can figure out a way to salvage that situation."
"No problem." She knew very well that he'd go crazy unless he had something to fix his mind on while the police plodded along trying to gather evidence.
"Cochrane will certainly thank you if you can — if the police don't arrest him for Norris's murder."
"Guy didn't seem too keen to do that just yet," Kane reminded her.
"Aside from having no believable motive, he agreed Cochrane would be too smart to use his own gun and drop it at the scene after wiping all the prints off."
"I wish they'd get that report on Norris's fingerprints," Faith said restlessly. "It's important, Kane, I know it is."
"Probably tomorrow, Guy said. He's checking the system for a match and sent them up to Noah for good measure. Assuming Noah's at Quantico. One of them will call us as soon as anything turns up."
Faith nodded, but she still felt uneasy. If Norris had been involved, why was he dead now? Had Conrad Masterson killed him? Was Masterson even guilty of anything? And what was the thing Dinah was tortured for? Dammit, they still didn't know!
The storm had passed hours ago, but it was still a cold and wet and miserable night to be out. Even so, the driver circled the offices of Macgregor and Payne out of caution, and both he and Sam were alert as the car pulled into the underground garage. It was mostly empty, and as safe as electronic security and surveillance cameras could make it, so Faith wasn't worried as she, Kane, and Sam rode up in the elevator to the fifth floor, where Kane's office was located.
There was a security guard stationed in the reception area, as there was on every floor, and he reported to Kane that everybody had logged out and all was secure.
"I'll be right back," Kane said, digging for his keys as he headed for his office.
"I'll be here," Faith said. She began wandering along the hallway looking at photographs and paintings of past Macgregor and Payne projects.
Sam leaned against the desk to chat with the guard, one security person to another.
"Nice setup," he noted.
"Yeah, cost a fortune. This place is about as secure as technology can make it." Nodding toward Faith as she strolled away, the guard indicated a bank of monitors that showed views of several hallways.
"I can track anybody all through the building. Beats me why they're so hot to protect a bunch of offices, but I get paid to watch, not wonder."
"I hear that." Sam looked down the corridor to find Faith as she neared another hallway, then looked at the monitors.
"Which one's she headed for?" The guard pointed to a screen. "There. Don't worry. You can see everything's fine."
Kane was just turning to leave his office when his private line rang, and he answered it. "Macgregor."
"Where the hell's your cell phone?" Bishop demanded in lieu of a more polite greeting.
Surprised by the ferocity, Kane said, "In my pocket, but the battery's probably dead. It's been a long day. What's up?"
"Where's Faith?"
"With me. Noah, what is it?"
"Richardson said you were planning to stop by the office, so I took a chance. Those prints he sent up here?"