The Book Supremacy, page 23
part #13 of Bibliophile Mystery Series
“She was gone about five minutes,” I said.
“So who is she?” Alex asked.
“There are three women on the list,” I said, watching Derek. “Does she look like Tommie?”
He muttered under his breath, then pressed his mouth closed in a stubborn line. Finally, resigned, he exhaled in a rush. “It could be Tommie. She’s tall. I haven’t seen her in years, but she used to work out like a madwoman. I remember her being a little shapelier than this woman looks, but she could’ve lost weight or been wearing body armor or . . . one of those body suits or . . . something.”
“It’s either got to be her,” I said, “or one of the other two women on the list.”
“Yúnquè or Bettina Mayer.”
“I prefer to think it’s one of the other two,” Derek grumbled.
“I know.” I rubbed his shoulders in sympathy.
“How do you spell that one?” Alex asked. “What is it? Yoonkay?”
“Close.” I spelled it for her, but before I could say anything else, the picture shifted again and we all turned back to the screen.
“Here we go,” Derek murmured.
The woman came jogging back to the glass display case, and unlike the view from the overhead cam that had blocked so much of her actions, this shot revealed exactly what she was doing.
We watched her reach for her glass cutter and press it to the surface. But before she could cause any damage, she lifted her head and began cursing again.
“I can hear the sirens,” Gabriel said.
“Yeah, the cops were responding to a silent alarm that Tailor set off.”
The woman was obviously furious. She clenched her fists, then sprang into action, grabbing her shopping bag filled with the merchandise she’d stolen and disappearing from view.
Derek stopped the video. “We know from the original surveillance video that she made it out of the store and managed to escape.”
He stood up, turned the lights on, and poured more wine.
“Okay,” I said, feeling a little exhausted after watching that all over again. “We all agree that the book thief and Tailor’s killer is a woman.”
“Do you think she’s also the blackmailer?” Alex asked, then yawned. “Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“It’s getting late,” Gabriel murmured, and wrapped his arm around her.
“I don’t know if she’s the blackmailer.” I sipped my wine. “Now that I know the killer is a woman, I’m rethinking the identity of the blackmailer.” I held up my hand. “Not that I don’t think a woman is capable of blackmail, but just how much evil can one person manage?”
“Plenty,” Alex stated, her eyes hard.
“I know you’re right,” I conceded.
Derek jogged to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a plate of cheese and crackers. “It’s been a long while since we’ve eaten.”
“Thanks, man,” Gabriel said. He grabbed a couple of crackers and handed one to Alex.
“Where does Tommie live?” I asked.
“She’s on the East Coast,” Derek said, then frowned. “I don’t want to believe she’s involved.”
“I know. Just thinking of possibilities.”
“What about Bettina Mayer?” I asked.
“We need to contact Harold. Get more information.”
“Or we could just ask Owen about his wife.”
“Let’s do that,” Derek said flatly. “Because I know Tommie has nothing to do with any of this.”
“But if both Bettina and Yúnquè are dead,” Gabriel began.
Derek scowled. “Then my old friend Tommie just killed that innocent young man.”
“It’s not Tommie,” I said adamantly.
He looked surprised by my statement. “How do you know?”
“Because I know you,” I said firmly. “You have good instincts. And good friends.” I leaned against him. “This whole situation is making you doubt yourself and that bothers me because it’s something I’ve never seen you do.” I sighed. “We’ll figure it out.”
He slung his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me closer. “Thank you, love.”
“I need to walk around,” Alex said, pushing up from the couch. “Does anyone want water?”
“I can get it for you,” I said.
She grinned and headed for the kitchen. “I can handle this.”
“Gabriel, I totally forgot to ask you.” I reached for a cracker. “Were you able to find out anything about the other people on the list? Who’s alive and who’s dead?”
“Not about the people on the list yet, but I managed to get some intel on the son-in-law. My sources tell me he was having an affair while staying at the consulate in San Francisco.”
“Bingo,” Alex called from the kitchen.
“An excellent reason to be blackmailed,” Derek murmured.
“And not unexpected,” I said. “Harold called him a hound dog and Tommie had a horrible opinion of him. I figured he screwed around everywhere he went.”
“Except at home,” Derek noted. “Where the king and his men probably keep a close watch on him.”
Alex walked back into the room and flopped down on the couch. “So someone saw him with another woman.”
“Someone on the security detail?” Gabriel suggested.
“Security agents often see everything,” Derek said.
“But Tommie said that they kept them all isolated from one another,” I said. “She was only familiar with her partner, Ned.”
“The blackmailer could be part of the consulate staff,” Alex said as she walked back into the living room.
“It feels like it all connects back to the security detail,” Derek said. “I need to check back in with Tommie.”
“And Harold,” I added.
Alex yawned again. “Sorry, guys. I’m falling out. And I’ve got an early meeting in the morning.”
“Let’s go,” Gabriel said, patting her leg before standing and pulling her up. He looked at Derek. “Keep me posted, okay?”
“You bet.”
I stood and gave them both a hug. “Please walk carefully.” She and Gabriel were staying at her place so their commute was only a few yards down the hall.
They laughed as we followed them to the door. “Thanks for all your help tonight.”
“We’ll keep thinking,” Alex said.
When we closed the door, I looked at Derek. “I just want to say this again. Your instincts are unimpeachable. You would never be friends with a cold-blooded killer, so it can’t be Tommie. We have to talk to Bettina Mayer and find Yúnquè Jones.”
He leaned into me. “I want to keep working, but I can’t use my home system to dig too deeply.” He raked his hand over his head in frustration. “I received a text from Tommie but when I tried to call her back, there was no answer.”
That wasn’t good. Anyone could respond to a text. “Is it too late to call her?”
“Yes.” He grimaced. “It’s even later on the east coast. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’ll need to contact Harold as well, for an update.”
I thought for a moment, then smiled up at him. “I’m going to try one thing and I’m not going to tell you what it is.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll laugh at me.”
“Never,” he insisted, but he was already smiling.
“Okay, let’s give it a whirl.” I led the way into my workshop, sat down at my desk, and powered up my computer.
Derek sipped his wine as he paced around the room. As was often the case, it was hard to tell if he was relaxed or tense. Maybe a little of both, but I would guess that the tension was winning out. And who could blame him? We were dealing with some really dangerous people who would go to any lengths to cover their tracks, including murder.
He stopped pacing and moved up close to me. Setting his wineglass on my desk, he placed his hands on my shoulders and gently kneaded my tight muscles.
“That feels so good,” I whispered, then clicked on a site and waited.
Suddenly Derek laughed. “Seriously, darling? Google?”
I shrugged. “It’s my go-to for everything else. Why not this?”
I typed in Bettina Mayer and watched a dozen images pop up. Each was a different face. Not helpful. “There are hundreds of different Bettina Mayers on LinkedIn. And twenty-four of them are in Germany.”
“We’ll simply talk to Owen tomorrow and ask him about his wife.”
“Yeah.” But I was disappointed. My go-to search engine had failed me. “I’ll try the next one.” I typed in the word Yúnquè and hit Enter, wondering if anything would register.
But within seconds, over a dozen references for the word Yúnquè appeared. It only took the first entry to make my eyes boil over, but I checked three more entries, just to be certain.
“Damn it,” Derek muttered, and the string of expletives that followed was not something I would ever want to repeat in polite company. But I completely agreed with every last word he said.
Yúnquè was the Chinese word for a skylark.
“Skylark?” I stared at the screen in complete disbelief. I was downright flabbergasted. “Are you kidding me?
“Lark,” Derek snapped, and the word sounded worse than any obscenity I’d ever heard him say.
Chapter 13
“How can she be connected to any of this?” I asked. “She’s just a salesperson in your office. I mean, she’s horrible, but—”
“She used to be with the agency,” Derek said tonelessly.
“Wha—huh?” My mouth opened but I couldn’t think of a word to say. I was speechless. Incredulous. All this time, all the many conversations we’d had about how annoying Lark was, and he’d never once mentioned that she used to be with the agency?
My sputtering seemed to relax him and he managed a half smile. “Most of my staff have some background in government security.”
“But Lark? You never said a word. And . . . she’s . . . in sales.”
“I should have told you before, but it simply didn’t occur to me.” He poured us both another half glass of wine. “I run a security company, darling. We handle highly sensitive information every day, and our agents are often put in dangerous situations all over the world. Our salespeople are in contact with those agents, and they’re actively searching for others in the security field. They have to be aware of all sorts of information and situations. And they have to be able to deal discreetly.”
“So everyone in your company has a security clearance?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Wow. Good to know.” I weighed this new info and nodded. “Makes sense.”
“I’m calling Gabriel.” Derek punched in the number and hit the speaker button. “He needs to know what we’ve uncovered.”
Gabriel answered his phone immediately. “Yo.”
“Can we use your deep-dive computer to confirm a theory we’ve just come up with?” Derek asked, and then told him our suspicions about Lark. His anger was back and he paced around my worktable as he spoke.
“Come on down,” Gabriel said.
Derek slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed our keys, and took my hand. We quietly jogged down to Alex’s apartment to talk it out.
Gabriel sat at Alex’s kitchen island, typing and clicking on his computer. Alex stood on the opposite side of the island, mixing flour and sugar.
“I thought you’d be sound asleep,” I said.
“I got my second wind,” she explained. “Especially when Gabriel told me what you found.”
“So you’re baking?” I asked in disbelief.
She shrugged. “It’s my superpower.”
“You have many,” I said, smiling. “But your cupcakes are the most significant.”
“So what’s going on with that horrible woman?” she asked as she reached for the tin of baking powder.
“I just found out that Lark used to work for the agency,” I grumbled.
“I never said anything about it,” Derek admitted, “because it was never an issue. Most of my people have worked in government or security, including Lark. And when we did a background check on her, we were told by several high-ranking officials that she had only worked a desk.”
“Then how did she land that consulate assignment six years ago?” Alex wondered.
Gabriel clicked a few more times, typed a few sentences, then stared at his computer screen and snorted. “Dude, she has a higher security clearance than some of those high-ranking officials you got references from.”
“That’s annoying,” Derek muttered.
“It’s beyond annoying,” I said irately. “It’s a complete—”
“Don’t say it,” he said quickly, holding up his hand. “You’re right. It’s reprehensible. I’ve always conducted my own background checks, but a couple of years ago I was out of the country for an extended period of time and my staff had to depend on the headhunters.”
“Lesson learned,” Gabriel said philosophically.
“I must point out that the headhunters we used were also vetted carefully.” Derek shook his head. “But things do slip through cracks.”
“If Lark has such a high security clearance, why would she bother with a sales position?” I wondered. “And why did she want to work for your company? I mean, yeah, you’re the best. But what was her game plan?” I frowned. “Maybe she’s being paid to obtain information. She might’ve arranged the whole job interview process to get close to you. That didn’t work. I mean, she didn’t get as close as she wanted to. But have you noticed that she’s awfully close to Bart? And by the way, that’s annoying.”
“I am certain that Bart has nothing to do with any of this.”
“Okay, you would know,” I said, and backed off. But I still wasn’t convinced of Bart’s loyalties because he always supported Lark instead of Derek. Was Derek’s partner having an affair with Lark? It was worth looking into, but that wasn’t my job. I might mention something to Corinne, though. I tucked that thought away for later.
Derek rubbed my back, adding, “Darling, I know Bart’s clean because after you said something the other day, I personally ran a deeper background check on him.”
I gazed up at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I was happy to hear it, but I was still going to talk to Corinne. The woman saw everything. And a high security clearance couldn’t protect Bart from a sneaky, seductive woman like Lark.
Gabriel stared at his computer screen and whistled. “Hmm. Here’s something. Did you know she’s the daughter of the head of security in Guangdong Province?”
I blinked a few times and shook my head. “Say what?”
“Guangdong Province borders Hong Kong,” Gabriel said, sitting back and folding his arms. “It’s on the coast so it’s strategically important for that and many other reasons. It’s also the most populated province in China.”
“So her father has a lot of power,” Alex concluded.
Gabriel grinned. “Actually, it’s her mother.”
“Whoa,” I muttered.
“Let’s follow the money,” Gabriel said to Derek. “Can you access your firm’s accounting records?”
“Of course,” Derek said.
“Expense reports?” he asked.
Derek stared at Gabriel for one long moment. Then with complete understanding, he nodded. He began pounding keys on his keyboard like a maniac, so I walked over to the kitchen island to watch Alex doing her magic with cupcakes.
* * *
• • •
The first batch of cupcakes were coming out of the oven when Derek finally looked up from the computer screen. His jaw was tight, but he was smiling. Admittedly the smile was sharklike, but there was a touch of satisfaction, too. “It just gets better and better.”
“What did you find?” I asked.
He looked up at me, then glanced at Gabriel. “You won’t believe this one.”
“What?” I demanded, a little too sharply. “Sorry.”
He chuckled. “Understandable. Anyway, I’m still piecing it together, but it appears that Lark is the one who was having an affair with the potentate’s son-in-law.”
No one spoke for a minute. I figured we were all in shock. I knew I was.
Finally I found my voice. “How did you find that out?”
“Follow the money,” he said with a nod of appreciation to Gabriel. “Lark has been flying to Miami once a month for the past six years. She submits expense reports every month that claim she’s meeting a certain client there and she always stays at a particular hotel in Miami Beach.” He glanced up from the screen. “The son-in-law’s name is Kristof, by the way.”
“Good to know,” Alex said from the kitchen.
“I cross-referenced Kristof’s name and Miami Beach and came up with several articles describing his lavish lifestyle and the times he spends doing business in Miami Beach. Then I added Lark’s name to the mix. The dates are remarkably similar.”
“But that could just be coincidence,” I said reluctantly.
“True,” he said. “But there’s another set of expenses she claimed when she was wining and dining a new client from Seattle last year. At the same time, Kristof was in Seattle for meetings with Japanese investors on behalf of the king.”
“Okay, okay. I’m starting to believe it.”
Gabriel nudged Derek away and sat down at his computer. “I can check the timing of Kristof’s flight records for other cities and give you a list. Then when you get to the office tomorrow, you can check Lark’s expense reports for that time period, see if they coincide.”
“They will,” I said, even without more proof. I had no idea that this kind of stuff could be tracked down so easily, but I loved that Gabriel and Derek could do it. “So she’s a killer, a thief, and a floozy.”
