Astley said, “A perfectly reasonable explanation, Agent Gregson. What are you getting at?”
Gregson said, “And the name of this friend?”
Cartwright shrugged. “Honestly, it was a while ago, I’m not sure. I only remember he was unable to attend the function.”
“Asked and answered. Let’s move along, Agent Gregson,” Astley said.
Gregson said, “The thing is, Ms. Cartwright, Mr. Astley, we obtained a warrant granting us access to cell tower records near your home. We found that a number of texts had been exchanged between a cell phone very close to you and one in Europe, all in the last couple of weeks. Does that help you remember?”
Cartwright cocked her head to one side, touched her long fingers to the beautiful pearls around her throat. She looked the same professional, confident exec, utterly in control, in her stylish black Armani suit with a white silk blouse. She wore her hair in a chignon, as she had yesterday when Gregson had first interviewed her. Her voice stayed smooth and calm. “Why on earth would I text anyone in Europe? You think I texted Archer and Sasha on their honeymoon, after all that’s happened? That is nonsense. It was someone else close, in a nearby area.”
Astley said, “Agents, you know you can’t tie any such communications to my client specifically. Your search of her local cell tower traffic is nothing more than a crude attempt to implicate her. It’s Archer Navarro you should be trying to find, his brother you should arrest—again. My client has already told you everything she knows about this debacle. She admitted to you yesterday, after hearing the recording, she overreacted when Rebel Navarro visited her on Saturday, a natural reaction.
“Ms. Cartwright has been nothing but a trusted and loyal employee. It is her employer, a man she believed to be her friend, Archer Navarro, who is hiding somewhere outside the country to avoid arrest. Now, if you have nothing else, we’re finished here. Ms. Cartwright was already exhausted trying to deal with everything that’s happened at her firm, and now by your attempts to intimidate and implicate her.”
Gregson looked down at her watch, then at Savich. He said, “Ms. Cartwright, have you ever been to Barcelona?”
Cartwright froze.
Astley said, “Come on, Agent Savich, why this ridiculous question?”
Savich continued. “Any plans to go to Marrakesh, Ms. Cartwright?”
Astley struck his fist against the tabletop. “Enough! If you have nothing more appropriate to ask, we’re leaving.”
The conference room door opened, and Sherlock, her hand placed lightly on Sasha’s back, walked into the room, Ruth Noble and Archer Navarro behind them. She gave Savich a nod and a smile, passed over Astley, nodded to Gregson, then looked at Carla Cartwright. Cartwright wasn’t looking back at her, she was staring at Sasha and at the sling on her arm.
“I’m Special Agent Sherlock. As I’m sure Ms. Cartwright already knows, this is Sasha Navarro, and Special Agent Ruth Noble and Mr. Archer Navarro. I apologize for being a bit late, but we had an emergency to attend to before we could leaveBarcelona. Mrs. Navarro had a bullet wound in her arm and had to be treated.”
Carla Cartwright yelled at Archer as she lunged to her feet, “You’ll go to prison forever, you thieving bastard! I can’t believe you shot her. You’re a monster!”
Mr. Astley rose slowly to his feet, obviously confused. “So this is Archer Navarro. I trust you will arrest this man, Agent Gregson. Not only did he flee the country, but agents were dispatched to bring him back. And now it seems he shot his wife?”
Sherlock looked from Sasha to Astley. “Mr. Archer didn’t shoot her, I did. No choice. It’s very possible she’d have shot us all if she’d had the chance.”
“No, no, that’s a lie. I only wanted to leave.” Sasha cupped her arm and moaned.
Gregson stood. “We will deal with how and why it was necessary to shoot Mrs. Navarro, but we have other matters to attend to first.”
Astley was smart and experienced, and knew he’d been set up. They’d come from Barcelona? Agent Savich had known they’d be coming, and so had Gregson. It was all a ploy to keep him and his client here until they arrived. Whatever it was they had come to say, he knew his client was about to be screwed. He cleared his throat loud enough for a jury to hear. “Feel free, Agent Gregson, to interrogate Mr. Navarro until next Tuesday, if you wish, but my client and I are leaving.”
Gregson said easily, “If she attempts to leave, Mr. Astley, I will arrest her. Now, everyone sit down.”
Sherlock smiled at him. “Please be patient, Mr. Astley. Agent Noble and I will clear up everything very quickly.” She looked over at Sasha, who was staring down at her feet, looking for all the world like a teenager busted for drugs, defeated and pale, her hair in a ratty ponytail, a bloodstain on her white blouse. Still, she looked beautiful, like a tragic heroine. Cartwright waslooking at Sasha too, trying to get her attention, and Archer was staring at Cartwright. It looked to Sherlock like there was both sadness and absolute fury in his eyes.
On the long flight home from Barcelona, Sherlock had told him everything his brother, Rebel, had done and how his son, Tash, and Autumn Merriweather had helped Savich find him in Barcelona. He’d said nothing and finally fallen asleep from exhaustion. So had Sasha, drugged to the gills on enough pain meds to be out for most of the flight.
Savich studied his wife’s tired face. Even her usually bouncing curls looked wilted. He’d finally gotten the unvarnished truth from Ruth and his heart had nearly stopped. What was to have been a simple pickup, nothing dramatic or dangerous, had turned into a life-and-death situation. But he knew nothing was ever easy, and he’d hesitated to send Sherlock and Felicity to Barcelona. But her stubborn chin had gone up, and what could he do? When she’d marched into the conference room and smiled at him, he’d finally calmed. She was fine, Felicity was fine, and because of her and Ruth they were nearing the finish line.
Astley said, “All right, then, Agent Sherlock, Agent Noble. You brought Archer Navarro back. And Mrs. Navarro, wounded. What is it you have to say?”
Sherlock reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “This is the burner phone Sasha Navarro had with her in Barcelona. Mr. Navarro accidently discovered it when it pinged a text. Let me read you texts going back to when Mr. and Mrs. Navarro landed in Paris on their honeymoon.”
Astley, no slouch, immediately said, “Agent Gregson, we don’t know whose cell phone that is, and it could very well have been tampered with by Mr. Navarro—”
Sherlock said, “Sir, please bear with me, the phone’s owner will become apparent very quickly, as will its authenticity. This is the first text Sasha Navarro sent from the De Gaulle Airport upon their arrival in Paris.” She read aloud, “Here at last. I knowwhat to do, don’t worry.Archer can’t wait to get me in the sack. Love you. S.
“Here is Ms. Cartwright’s reply:Keep him happy, everything’s set, I’m pulling the trigger soon. CC.”
