Dot Com Murder Page 6

  Joyce saw he remembered them fondly. That was good; hopefully Thatcher felt the same way. It seemed so since he would be offering drinks and dinner; on the other hand, he might be setting the table for some serious evasion. Well, they would see. tomorrow.

  Joyce paused before saying, “Robichaux, Devane & Thatcher? They are the #1 boutique investment broker with only a few people. Is the Thatcher related?”

  “Yes, he is a Robichaux/Trinkam type, but more like Trinkam. A partier but financially conservative. Rare combination. He, too, has never married, though you might be the one. Now Joyce don’t look at me like that. He is the real deal. John’s son and supposedly also a chip off the old block too.”

  With that they sat back with their thoughts. George was hopeful; Joyce just opened Pandora’s Box; she would see where it led her. A rich presumably fun, financially conservative partier was good for lots of things. She hummed unknowingly.

  George noticed and smiled. Well at least one nice thing might come out of this mess. George thought she deserved better than some of the crumb bums, at least in his opinion, she had dealt with as dates. Of course he was prejudiced; but so what? He was entitled, as he quaffed his third Guinness.

  He noticed Joyce looked a bit worried, so he asked her why. “George, they are a mobile force. They can do a lot before the day after tomorrow at 5 PM when we meet with Thatcher.”

  “They may be mobile, but they aren’t that mobile to move out and sell off things by then,” he chuckled. George would be wrong about that.

  Chapter 11

  sale & buyback

  Reach and grab works for me

  The Wall Street Journal headline the next morning indicated how wrong George was:

  everything.com sells its big search division to IBM

  Chuck Newberg, CEO, announced IBM had bought everything.com’s fast growing search division for $5 billion in cash, would move the headquarters to Tucson, and everything.com would use the proceeds to buyback their stock immediately. IBM used JP Morgan as their advisers and everything.com the Sloan.

  Joyce called George at 7 AM that morning with the news. George paused, “They do move fast and yes, you were right, they are a mobile force. Thatcher was extremely circumspect on the phone about everything.com. The bad news is they are a mobile force; the good news is Thatcher is on the inside.”

  “George, I think we should consider canceling our meeting this morning with the Commissioner about our progress, or lack of it, and get over there before there is no there there.”

  “Quite a sentence, Joyce.”

  “Yes, and?”

  “And I want to keep my job. I’m not going to be the one to tell the Commissioner someone is more important in our police work than he is; and I won’t have you doing it either, or you will be Iphigenia on the funeral pyre courtesy of our Agamemnon, the Commissioner.”

  “Your reading sometimes surprises me, George.”

  “Good; gotta keep my sneaky slider for days like this when I suspect I will need it. This is getting worse and worse. I’ll bet we get blamed for the move.”

  At 11 AM they did. The Commissioner was upset by no progress, the Mayor was asking him about driving everything.com out of New York, and the list of their sins went on from there. When George suggested that next they’ll think he did the murder, the Commissioner said, possibly, but I think you’ll get a pass on that one. And he said it with no humor. So things weren’t good when they left, had lunch, and walked over to everything.com.

  When they walked in and showed their credentials to Security on the ground floor, they were told everything.com had moved to Tucson.

  “I want to see Jim Johnson,” George said acerbically, having a continuing bad day.”

  “Sir, I am sorry to have been unclear. They have moved to Tucson.”

  “Certainly not yet; I just want to see him, or at least talk to him.”

  “Sir, they have moved. Their two floors are closed off until the tenants above them move down to fill up the space, which they are in the process of doing now as we speak.”

  “Tenants above them?”

  “Yes, Bank of America, sir. They have been looking to expand and this was a great opportunity for them.” George knew a sporting fish on the run or swim as it were, and let him do just that until he wound down about the many virtues of BOA.

  George got even by saying, “They must tip well?”

  The man grinned and that told the story. But that didn’t help much with his problem. It did make George feel better and that was not unimportant at the low tide he was now at. So that was something with the slim pickings so far today.

  “OK, do they have anyone on the premises or do you have a forwarding address?”

  “Two no’s sir, I am sorry. Nothing. In fact, to be honest, no one told me anything other than BOA was moving down, the floors were closed off, and I was to tell people that if asked. Which I have, haven’t I?”

  George ignored that, and said, “What about your rental office, would they know more?”

  “I doubt it sir. Even I know that BOA was looking for more space and said they would jump at any opening; this worked out well being right above everything. I’ll bet they did it on a phone call between the principals to save money.”

  The Security Man would be right. When George finally got a hold of the BOA office manager he confirmed those facts. “Yes, we just got the word early this morning and we are so excited. My bosses in Charlotte were pushing us and we finally delivered. A big relief, I’ll tell you. Who? Jim Johnson their CFO. Where did he go? I don’t know a Jim Johnson. everything.com signed the paperwork though. All legal and simple, which things can be when the lawyers don’t get in it to run up their legal hours and the fees. Heck, we are moving in right now as we speak.”

  The term “as we speak” was getting on George’s nerves. George asked about everything moving their things.

  “Inspector, this is the cyber age; now I am not as up to date with it as I should be but what was there to move? We are just taking over their desks, basic computer equipment, and everything else. You know, someone from everything told me they had done the same thing with the previous tenant.”

  “Our head office in Charlotte was darn pleased I am told. So we will have part of the office up and running later today. Pretty cool. No New York unions to hassle with about moving stuff, arguing, paying, bribing, etc. and so forth since they don’t even know it happened and, even if they did, couldn’t get by security downstairs. Heck you know all about that as an Inspector.” He stopped and George nodded so he would go on.

  “Well can you at least let me walk through?”

  “Sure, delighted. Nice talking to someone who knows all about this.”

  Joyce was about to interrupt, but George waved her off. Better he think they weren’t total fools or he might clam up then. But, on the other hand, the guy seemed to like to yack. That never hurt but he would have to see whether it helped.

  They took the elevator down from the BOA’s man’s office. The BOA man indicated they would start on the bottom floor and then move up to the second one when George was ready to do so. George nodded his agreement.

  The elevator opened to the former everything.com lobby Johnson had talked to them in. There were no changes he noticed; for the first time he realized there had not been a corporate insignia when he visited before. He asked Joyce, “Do you remember any corporate signs out here yesterday?”

  “No. And I thought it was odd then. It looks just the same now. Do you remember we had to buzz in on that speaker over there? We only saw a man who said he was Johnson and gave us a general address card. Didn’t have any person’s name on it.” Were they being paranoid? She wondered.

  George described the man and the BOA office manager shook his head saying, “Never met any executive like that from everything. There was a private investigator they used that fit that description. As I recall he had been a real cowboy and they hired him because he was used to being quiet, or that’
s what I was told about him. Maybe that was an urban legend. But it seemed right. I can’t exactly remember his name; but it wasn’t Jim or Johnson as I recall.”

  That explained it George thought. The everything man had been calm, respectful, and aloof; definitely not characteristics associated with rambunctious New Yorkers always thinking they had to push back to create a little space for themselves in the maelstrom of city life. George had learned this from police conferences when the small city guys were more like the everything.com PI.

  They just didn’t have to fight for space because there was a lot of it, perhaps too much for many of them. Well he had sure been fooled much like in Mark Twain’s The Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, who turned out couldn’t jump due to buck shot put in his belly. Well, this guy certainly tricked them without any buckshot required, just pure BS, and not much of that, which had been the persuader.

  With those thoughts, they were walking through a sea of standard office equipment. He asked Joyce, “Tell me what you see.” The BOA Man looked at him quizzically but Joyce knew what he meant so did so as she made notes on her iPhone at the same time.

  Then she started giving George the running commentary he liked. “First, no file cabinets; second desks or rather tables without drawers; third few waste baskets, printers, or similar things. As a result, a lot more table and chair space for people; I’ll bet they had about twice the number of people that these offices used to have. And open lighting because of no private offices around the edges.”

  The BOA man pitched in. “Yes, our people are following this layout. They think they will be able to comfortably put twice the number of people here we usually get into this size space. They aren’t going to build out private offices; the mucky mucks will keep theirs in our executive area 3 floors up.”

  They moved into the amenities area. “George,” Joyce continued, “they have devoted a lot of space to people taking a bit of time from their desks or should I say tables? Great food equipment; massage chairs; exercise room; lounge; no reason for them to leave the floor at lunch or at other times during the day for that matter. Private lockers too. Handy for deliveries from Amazon and others as well as to safely store your own stuff.”

  The BAO man said, “Yes, and shorter hours and more work. Our bosses liked the way they ran it. They tried to get everyone to leave their desks, or should I say tables too, by 5 PM. Sometimes they partied in the lounge; sometimes they moved out. But they were among the first to leave the building. They picked up a number of our employees for that reason. Nice folks; easy going; no execs and slaves, so to speak. I liked them too,” which said a lot George thought. No one seemed to have an axe to grind about everything.com. Usually Security people and office managers like the BOA guy did. But not this time, not with this crew. An informant would be hard to find, what this Police specialist was looking for, and he’d been cut off by a real honest to goodness cowboy. These guys are good, he concluded.

  On the next floor, Joyce got it and said so. “George, what I see is a fancy college dorm or frat layout. Everything you wanted: relaxed work, collegiality, free everything since there are no vending machines, and short work hours. Yep, a frat on steroids.”

  The BOA man heard this with approval. “Yes, Miss. Exactly. I hadn’t seen it that clearly. They had a college enthusiasm about them. Nice to see. Good of the company to maintain. They recycled everything. The maintenance staff said there was little to maintain. I asked one of them once about that. He said in cyberspace you don’t need physical objects like printers, paper, file cabinets, and all the things that result in waste and mess. He said they generally ate fresh things, so composting was easy too. No potato chips for them!”

  All of this applause would make things harder. Much harder, George knew from experience, as if things weren’t hard enough already.

  They took another tour of the 2 floors to see if they picked up any new data. They didn’t. But a thought flashed across Joyce’s face, so George asked, “What?”

  “Is the crime scene done and removed?”

  “Yes. As you know with important people we get a lot of pressure to do so, especially from neighbors and others that have influence and clout. What?” as he saw her shake her head.

  “George, we have been a step or two behind these people at every pass. That cowboy was a fake. That wasn’t an accident; we didn’t notice any nervousness by him in his silence. How were we to know? He spoke with a flat Iowa accent. You call Thatcher, of the Sloan, and he says fine, tomorrow at 5 PM. Well, according to The Journal the company was sold and that publicly announced before then. Its move was announced. So your Thatcher broke no confidences. Good for him; bad for us.” And she paused as George tried to get his bearings on this one.

  “Then, George, we twig onto, ‘hey, they’ll be gone soon,’ and when we arrive to check that out we find the whole kit and caboodle is gone; the place swept clean, who knows maybe fingerprint clean; and someone else has already started moving in. We couldn’t stop them if we tried; and if we did, what would we find, just this,” as she pointed to an unoccupied sea of office equipment. Well, not exactly she thought; because when she turned around she saw the first new BOA people moving in.

  “We go back downstairs and a whole bunch of BOA people have moved in with their badges, coats and ties, and lovely dresses. Wait, I hear an elevator unloading and more voices there.” She paused, “Yep they are invading their own space now,” as she shook her head.

  “Has it occurred to you what has to me?”

  “What? They, whoever they is, got the victim’s place cleaned spic and span other than the actual crime scene, right?” George nodded. “Well, they undoubtedly know the crime scene was taken down. Right?” George nodded again; he was staggered by the speed of it all. “They rerented this place with a business to business agreement, no lawyers, so it was fast and simple.”

  “We haven’t seen the document but what do you bet it is one of those electronic signature things, which means Newberg could have signed it anywhere in the world and forwarded it on.”

  George nodded again but thought, hey this is so fast and ugly, and Joyce and I may even miss the blame. He grimaced, no. Someone will have to take it and who better than us? A just the facts set of reports was called for. He was glad he had watched the old Jack Webb Dragnet TV shows. Webb got it right.

  George noticed Joyce was waiting for him to catch up, or at least get closer. He nodded and she went on, “I’ll bet they have already sold those two condos and someone else is moving in now, right now. Trophy space. Used to be crime scenes brought the value down; now it is modern theater, bizarre, but we know it is true.” George thought he was going to get sick.

  “What do we do, Joyce?”

  “We leave here and walk back there and see what is what. They walked back to the condos. When they entered the lobby there was a new Security Guard and a Big Shot boss type backing him up. When they checked in, the Security Guard handed him a document headed:

  Crime Scene Closed Down

  The crime scene is closed. All information is available to those authorized at Centre Street New York Police Headquarters, at the Commissioner’s Office.

  “So we would still like to see the property.”

  “Sir, it has been sold and they are moving in now, well they are redoing the place actually.”

  “What about the old furniture?”

  “I don’t know sir; they used the service elevator and took what they took. They have full authorization.”

  Here the Big Boss inserted himself, “Hello, I am Hal Williams. I am the General Foreman for the new owners that wish to remain anonymous and, of course, they never were here when the sad event took place and did not know the victim.”

  “How did the sale take place, Hal?” From experience he knew that would jar Williams and it did, but only ever so slightly. Hal waited and righted himself before speaking. A wise habit George thought as he waited.

  “I am authorized to give you this, Inspect
or,” as he handed him a document.

  The Olson Family Trust Buys the Everything Condos

  Today the Trust announced they had bought the 2 founders of everything.com’s condos in a private transaction.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it, Sir. They asked me to wait for you in the lobby should you have any further questions.”

  “I have a 1000 questions. Who do I talk to about them?” George was heated up and Joyce gave him the high sign to mellow out. “Hal, I know you are working on instructions but what would you recommend?” This was a hard one to field. Hal paused for quite a long time.

  “I don’t know, Inspector. I have no instructions as to that.”

  George looked at him menacing, but that cut no ice with Hal. George concluded Hal was probably a bouncer or had been. He would bet he was no more a foreman than he was. But, they had set this up well so he asked for his name and contact information.

  Hal was clearly prepared for this and handed him a general company card, with no specific name on it. George thought back to police school. They had been told the toughest witnesses were those who didn’t give an inch and stonewalled you from hello. Even worse were situations, rare ones, where everyone around the perpetrator did this. Well, he had gotten that treatment so far. No one had moved an inch and that wasn’t by accident. Planning had gone into this. Impromptu perhaps; but planning nevertheless.

  He took a chance, “Hal, do you have a personal card?”

  “No.”

  “Then show me some ID.”

  “You don’t have reasonable cause, sir.”

  Yep, a bouncer. He knew the rules. Tough guy. Well a tough guy for sure. He took a last shot.

  “How do I even know you are Hal Williams?”

  Hal just looked at him with no expression, backed up, pushed the elevator button, and was gone.