Rebel looked over at Jordan, who nodded, handed him a Mont Blanc from his suit pocket. “Mr. Navarro, go ahead and sign your name, say, six times. Isn’t that what you were going to ask him to do, Agent Gregson?”
“Six times would be good,” Gregson agreed, and watched Rebel closely.
When he finished, Jordan picked up the paper, studied the signatures Rebel had written, and handed the paper to Agent Gregson. She compared the scrawled signatures to the one on the documents. She looked up. “They all look the same to me. Do you agree, Mr. Jordan?”
Jordan said, “Of course they do. I would expect them to, since Mr. Navarro’s signature is illegible, and that makes it easy to copy.” He picked up the pen and signed Rebel’s name himself, pushed the paper back to Gregson. “Pretty close, don’tyou think? And that’s without practice. He writes his name like my brother, a physician, on his prescription pads.”
Gregson said, a touch of defensiveness in her voice, “It may not be enough to convince a jury, but our investigation has begun. If your client’s hands have been anywhere near the money disbursed from that account, you know we’ll find it.”
Jordan shook his head. “It seems to me this is an elaborate ruse on someone’s part, naturally the guilty party’s part, to show collusion between the two brothers. By implicating my client, it goes a long way to prove Archer Navarro must be behind the embezzlement.” He sat back, crossed his arms over his chest again. “I’ve seen setups like this before, but I have to say it’s unusual to run into a frame using an actual signature that can’t be proved to be legitimate, and expect to sell it.”
Gregson said, “Mr. Jordan, it’s far more likely your client did indeed sign that document. I had him arrested and brought here to give him a last chance to cooperate with us, help us recover the money, and tell us where his brother is hiding, and, of course, what their plan is. Of course I also brought him here so he couldn’t leave the country.”
Rebel said, “Agent Gregson, I did not sign this document, nor did my brother steal from his own company. As for my leaving the country, you know my nephew is staying with me. You also know he has no other family. I would never leave him, nor would I drag him along to parts unknown.” He paused a moment. “Please try to understand. My brother was getting his life back together after the death of his wife two years ago. His company was thriving and he’d just remarried. He was finally happy. He’s not a Madoff or Bankman-Fried. There was simply no reason for him to steal all that money from his own clients. My brother is proud of his company, proud he built it himself. Many of his clients have become personal friends. Never would he steal from them. He’s been set up just as I have. It has to be someone else who works at his investment fund who’s behindthis. You read in that text he pointed to his COO, Carla Cartwright.”
Gregson said, “We’ve interviewed everyone at the Navarro Investment Fund who holds a position high enough to make this theft even a remote possibility, including Ms. Cartwright. We found her to be straightforward and helpful, though she is distraught over what your brother—and you, sir—appear to have done. She was forced to agree the transfers were made from your brother’s workstation, using his passcodes, and only when he was in the building. So, not a single red flag in Ms. Cartwright’s direction. It was your brother, no other possibility.”
Rebel said, “I know Cartwright’s been with him since he started up the company. He’s often told me how smart she is, how much he depended on her, particularly after Celia—his wife—died, and how excellent she was at tech. He trusted her and she knew it. Wouldn’t that indicate she could find the means and opportunity?”
Gregson said, “Here’s the bottom line, Mr. Navarro. No one at your brother’s fund had access to his passcodes, and as I said, Ms. Cartwright had to agree, although she didn’t want to. She wanted to protect your brother. And still, even after we verified this was indeed true, she still didn’t want to believe her friend, her boss, would do this. Like you, she believed strongly it had to be someone else, not Archer, never Archer. As I said, she was forced to admit only he could have accessed those accounts. Let me point out Ms. Cartwright didn’t run to Europe, your brother did.”
Rebel said, “My brother simply went on his honeymoon to Europe with his wife and was in Paris when the missing funds were discovered. I know my brother. I can only imagine how frantic he is, how disbelieving that anyone would think him responsible for this crime. I also imagine he doesn’t know what to do. Stay in Europe, hidden, until you discovered the real criminals? Myself? I would have come back and raised hell, butit wasn’t my decision.” He paused, added, “My brother is one of the smartest people I know, a genius with people. I would never accept he would do something so stupid as to use codes only he knew. Talk about painting an X on his back.” Rebel sat forward. “Agent Gregson, please believe me when I tell you my brother is very logical, very realistic. He’s also got plenty of money, no reason to steal more—to ruin his company and make himself a fugitive. Somehow, someone got hold of those passcodes.”
Gregson sat back, crossed her arms over her chest. “Greed is rampant in the land, Mr. Navarro. I’ve learned no matter how much money an individual has, many simply want more and more. As for your brother, he was astute enough to leave the country before his crime was exposed, astute enough to know if he stayed here he’d be indicted very quickly and possibly not even granted bail. I think it’s far more likely he’s elected to enjoy the rest of his life drinking mai tais on a beautiful island somewhere with no extradition treaty with us.” She paused a moment, leaned toward him. “And you planned to join him, didn’t you? Bring his son with you.”
Rebel said automatically, “My brother doesn’t drink mai tais.”
Jordan laughed. “Well, that deflates your imaginative tale, Agent Gregson. Now, let’s be realistic, apply some actual logic. You must know by now your agents jumped the gun. They arrested Mr. Navarro in his own home on a Friday night and drove with him over three hours here to Philadelphia. They tried to railroad him, threatened him, tried to coerce a confession with no attorney present. At the very least they hoped he’d break down and tell them where his brother is. If Sheriff Ethan Merriweather hadn’t called me, what was your plan? Throw him in jail and wait for him to call a literary attorney or a lawyer in the area with little experience?
“This is a superb screwup, Agent Gregson. Now, it’s time for you to release Mr. Navarro on his own recognizance until suchtime as you actually have some definitive proof he was involved in this, which I really doubt exists. Otherwise, I’ll call Judge Hobbs and explain what you’ve done and be granted his immediate release and you, a reprimand.”
Agent Gregson slowly rose. She didn’t look happy. “I’m not swayed by your threats, Mr. Jordan, but what makes me pause is that Agent Dillon Savich appears to agree with you. If Mr. Navarro wears a tracking ankle bracelet, I will let him return to Titusville for now to be with his nephew. And I want Mr. Navarro’s passport.”
Rafael Jordan handed her his card. “Fine, I’ll arrange it. Call me if you wish to speak to Mr. Navarro again, no more night visits with cuffs and threats for three hours. In the meantime, I suggest you look into how someone managed to get hold of Mr. Archer Navarro’s passcodes.”
As they were walking out of the conference room and through the huge office, Rebel saw Briggs standing against a cubicle, a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked at Rebel like he wanted to punch him.
Rebel gave Briggs a little finger wave.
On the elevator ride back to the lobby, Jordan said, “Gregson was hoping her agents would get a confession out of you, and that’s the reason for your incarceration with them for three hours. But you held firm. Now, I know about Agent Dillon Savich. He has a rep for not rushing to judgment. I don’t know how he became involved with this, do you?”
Rebel knew, of course. Autumn. He shook his head. No way was he going to bring her into this mess.
Now Jordan said, “Well, however he became involved, be grateful. He also has a reputation of being a bulldog, never stops until he has the truth.”
That’s what Autumn said.Rebel said to Jordan, “I think this whole plan was set into motion months ago. And I was involvedto make it seem even more obvious my brother planned it and now it’s a family deal.”
They walked into the dim-lit federal garage. Jordan said, “I know you believe your brother is innocent. But the sticking point is the secret passcodes. Those passcodes are the keys to the kingdom. I suppose it’s possible they could have been hacked. If hackers can get into the U.S. Navy’s computers, why not your brother’s?”
Rebel said, “My brother bragged they were hack-proof. You heard me tell Gregson that Archer’s COO, Carla Cartwright, is a tech whiz, better than Archer was, he told me. So how good is she? If Archer suspects her, that means she somehow got the codes out of him. I wonder if he even knows.”
Jordan stopped by a black Mercedes sedan. “Is your brother a careless man?”
Rebel said slowly, “Sometimes in his personal life, maybe, but not with his business. He’d never be careless in his business. It was his baby, his greatest pride.”
“Get in, Rebel—may I call you Rebel? Call me Rafael. Being in the trenches on a Friday night tends to make last names rather superfluous.”
Rebel nodded. “Rafael. Yes, I’m Rebel.”
