The Inner Sanctum (19 page)

Finally, David lifted his hand and gently touched Jesse's cheek. "Thank you for a great day."

"Thank you."

Slowly, David leaned forward to kiss her.

She had enjoyed the day very much and knew for certain now that he was someone she could be quite interested in. But just as the kiss was becoming passionate, she broke away. She couldn't risk the opportunity at Sagamore. "We'd better get up to the house. It's late, and we shouldn't keep anyone awake just in case they're waiting up for us."

"Uh huh." David smiled to himself as she took his hand and began pulling him up the pier toward the house. He had seen that spark of interest in her eye. Just as he had seen it that night when they first met at the cocktail party.

"Good evening, Elijah."

Pitts hated these meetings. "Good evening." He was not a man who was comfortable exhibiting deference, but it was necessary in this case.

"I don't have much time, so I'll be brief."

"All right."

"I need a favor, Elijah."

Pitts cringed. The man always insisted on calling him by his first name, a subtle reminder of who wielded the power in this relationship. Everyone else addressed him as Reverend. "What is that?" he asked quietly.

"We've discussed this situation before."

"Malcolm Walker."

"That's right. Do I sense irritation, Elijah?"

"No." But his tone was unconvincing.

"You knew I would call in this favor sooner or later."

"Mmm."

"LFA is in desperate need of cash," the man pointed out. "I will inject more once you have completed this task."

The checking account was already overdrawn, and the next payroll checks had to be cut in a few days. Pitts needed money immediately or everything would be lost. The organization would die just as it was becoming real. Someday they wouldn't need this despicable patron, but for now he was their lifeline. "What do you want me to do?"

The store smelled richly of fine leather, but Roth took little notice as he approached the sales clerk standing behind the glass counter.

"Good evening, sir. May I help you?" The clerk's smile was sincere despite the late hour and a hectic day.

"I certainly hope you can," Roth said politely. He had waited until just before closing time to enter the store, and as he had hoped, it was deserted. "I need some information."

"What kind of information?" the clerk asked hesitantly.

Roth reached into his pocket and brought out the heavy badge. "I'm special detail to the Assistant Attorney General." His voice became serious as he quickly snapped the wallet shut. "I'm running an important investigation, and I need information on a glove I believe was purchased here. I need this information immediately."

"I'd better get the manager." The sales clerk had no interest in taking responsibility for this.

Fifteen minutes later, Roth exited the store with exactly what he had come for. Next stop would be the lab where the hair samples were being analyzed, although it didn't look like they'd even need that information now.

** Chapter 18

"Ms. Hayes?"

Looking at her tentatively from the office doorway was Rob Forester, a systems analyst who also ran investigative reports for the revenue agents. "Hi, Rob."

"I have that report you asked for."

"Well, come in here, silly." She motioned for him to enter as she rose from her seat. "Don't stand out there like a lost child."

The young man moved into her office. "It just looked as if you were thinking about something pretty hard. I didn't want to interrupt your work." He enjoyed any chance he had to run reports for Jesse. She treated him with respect, unlike most of the revenue agents, who thought their data requests were more important than edicts from God. "I didn't want to disturb you."

She had been lost in thought, but it had nothing to do with work. Saturday night she and David had stayed up until three o'clock, just talking as they sat together by themselves on the huge screened-in porch of the Broadbents' mammoth Corsica River home. They had discussed everything from wines and sailing to Sagamore, Elizabeth Gilman, and Art Mohler. They had been together all day, but the conversation just seemed to keep going.

When the talk finally faded because they were both exhausted, David politely showed her to her room and shook her hand good night. He had been quite the gentleman, and somehow she had been disappointed he hadn't attempted another kiss. But that wasn't fair. She would have refused him again anyway.

"Ms. Hayes?"

Jesse snapped back from the daydream for the second time and stepped toward the young man to take the report. "I appreciate your help, Rob."

"If there's anything else I can do, just call me."

"I will."

"Okay." Rob hesitated at the door for a moment, hands jammed into his pockets, hoping she would make an immediate request. Finally he waved nervously and was gone.

Jesse smiled as she closed the office door and returned to her desk. Rob was nice, and it was flattering to have someone so smitten.

Last Friday she had obtained a list from the Federal Election Commission of everyone officially registered as employed by the Elbridge Coleman Senate campaign, along with their Social Security numbers. The report Rob had just completed took the Social Security number of each individual working for the Coleman campaign and generated a record of any other entities by which those people had been paid in the last two years. Employers were always required to withhold taxes on earnings and deposit those funds with the IRS, using Social Security numbers as identification, so generating the report had been simple once she had the numbers.

The objective of generating the report was to develop a profile of the Coleman campaign. Perhaps there would be something there that could lead her in the right direction. It was a long shot, but she had to start somewhere. She pulled the list of Coleman employees from a desk drawer, put it down next to Rob's report on the desk, and began to compare them.

Almost instantly the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Jess."

"Todd. How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine." She sipped her coffee and continued matching the list of Coleman employees against Rob's report of wage withholdings.

"Tired?" Todd asked.

"No, why?" What was that about?

"No reason. Look, we need to talk about a couple of ideas I had regarding what we discussed the other day."

"But we haven't settled on your huge fee yet," she teased. "And you'll probably require a deposit, won't you?" Suddenly one of the employers on Rob's report caught her attention.

"Oh, come on, Jess. I was just kidding about that."

She focused on the name. That made no sense. Why would Coleman hire someone who had worked there?

"Jess, are you still on the line?"

It made no sense at all.

"Jess!"

"I'm here," she said, trying to figure it out.

"Let me tell you what I'm planning to do."

"No." Jesse's voice was suddenly ice-cold. "Not on the phone." The office could easily be bugged, she realized. "Tonight I want you to meet me at the place we used to go after the movies."

"You mean when we were in high school?" Todd laughed.

"Yes. Meet me there at seven o'clock."

"What's wrong?" He sensed strain in her voice.

"Nothing. Just be there." She hung up quickly, not giving him another chance to speak, then rose from her seat. There was one more thing she needed Rob to do.

As she opened her office door, she almost ran into Sara.

"Hi, Jesse."

"Hi." Instinctively Jesse slipped Rob's report behind her back.

"What are you working on?" Sara had noticed Jesse's maneuver. "Must be top secret." She leaned to the side and nodded down at the report.

"What, this?" Jesse brought the report back out from behind her back. "This is just an audit on some poor farmer out in Carroll County. I'm trying to find a way not to levy penalties or sic an investigative agent on him even though he hasn't paid income taxes in two years, but I do need one more thing before I can help him. So I'm off to records. Do you need anything?"

Sara shook her head.

"All right, see you in a little while." Jesse stepped past Sara. "Maybe we can have lunch together," she called back over her shoulder.

Sara watched carefully as Jesse moved down the hall. The records room was in the other direction.

Todd guided the white Corvette down the long gravel driveway toward his small farmhouse, proceeding cautiously to protect the car's underside against rocks kicked up by the tires. Finally he pulled the Corvette to a stop in front of the clapboard home.

It was a perfect bachelor place--rustic, quiet and remote. At one time the house had served as home to a tenant farmer managing the large estate for the owners who resided in the white-pillared manor house up on the hill. However, the tenant manager had died a year ago, and now the owners contracted their huge fields out to corporate farmers. But they had maintained the house and rented it to Todd.

The sound of another car moving over the driveway's crushed stones caught Todd's attention as he stepped out of the Corvette. The oncoming car was a sleek black Cadillac, large and expensive. However, the driver didn't show the same concern for his vehicle as Todd had. Instead he raced quickly down the tree-lined lane.

It was Harry the Horse, paying his weekly visit. Todd slammed the Corvette's door shut as the black car neared. In a strange way he enjoyed this game of chicken. Harry talked a good game but never followed through on his threats. He just loaned more money whenever Todd needed it.

Harry pulled his Cadillac behind the Corvette, blocking it in, then hopped from the car along with two other stocky men. He approached slowly while the other two leaned against the car's grille. "Hello, Todd." Harry's voice was gruff.

"Hi, Harry." Todd was nonchalant.

Harry moved directly to Todd until their faces were just inches apart. "We need a payment."

Todd grinned. "Sure, Harry."

Suddenly Harry launched a huge fist into Todd's stomach, instantly knocking the wind from his lungs. Todd slumped to his knees, clutching his belt.

"My boss is coming down on me about your loan. You owe us thirty thousand bucks. Fifteen on the car and fifteen from your unlucky weekends at the Atlantic City blackjack tables. We want at least five thousand of that before Monday and the balance by the end of the month. You got it?"

"Yeah." Todd gasped.

Harry nodded over his shoulder at his partners. They removed tire irons from beneath their long leather jackets and quickly smashed the Corvette's taillights and headlights. When they were finished, Harry grabbed Todd by his hair and pulled his head back. "I wanted you to have a little memento of our visit here today."

"Thanks," Todd muttered. Air was just beginning to seep back into his lungs.

"Anytime, my friend." Harry grinned. "Oh, just one more thing." Once again Harry slammed his fist into Todd's solar plexus. This time Todd collapsed and lay prone on the ground. "Remember, pal, five thousand by Monday, the rest by the end of the month. And the interest rate has increased to twenty-five percent." Harry laughed, then turned and walked to the car. As he was about to get back into the Cadillac, he yelled at Todd, "We know where your sister is too. Beautiful little baby she's got."

Then three doors slammed shut, the motor revved, wheels spun, and stones smashed against the Corvette as the Cadillac fishtailed away. Todd tried to make it to his knees, but collapsed onto the ground again.

Harry the Horse had made good on his threats for the first time. It was no longer a game. It never really had been, Todd realized now.

** Chapter 19

Unlike most fund management companies which invested exclusively in publicly traded corporations, Sagamore also purchased controlling interests in private firms where the executive committee could see an obvious opportunity to buy cheap, clean the company up, then sell it a few years later at a huge profit.

Doub Steel--a minimill operator that bought scrap steel and reprocessed it more cheaply than integrated manufacturers produced steel from raw materials--was one of those companies. A year after David had joined Sagamore, he had persuaded the executive committee to purchase an 80 percent interest in Doub for just over $70 million. Management was excellent, operations were efficient, products were strong, and the price seemed right.

But Doub's financial performance had gone south soon after Sagamore closed the transaction, and the executive committee had placed responsibility for turning the company around squarely on David's shoulders. Things had improved since the first year, but, as far as his portfolio was concerned, Doub was still his largest albatross--next to GEA.

Like most negatives David encountered in life, he had turned Doub into an opportunity. A week after inheriting the task of turning the company around, he had himself elected to Doub's board and was named chief financial officer by Sagamore's executive committee. Doub's controller performed day-to- day accounting, payroll and collection functions, and the executive committee had to approve any major financial moves, but as CFO David had wide latitude in between. This flexibility had enabled him to make the $1 million payment to the godfather in Washington two and a half years ago without being questioned. Just as Jack Finnerty had guessed, David had called the payment a loan to a slow-paying supplier, fooled the accountants, and set the GEA contract in motion.