“Eight to start, and I imagine your friends at Interpol know most of them.”
“I’ll run them.”
“To save you some time, I eliminated four of them, as I confirmed they were nowhere in or near New York at the time of the murder.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because.” He gestured with a fry back at her. “I’m the expert consultant. The other four’s whereabouts are more nebulous, so might warrant a look.”
“They’ll get one. Do you know any of them?”
“A few, by reputation. None personally.” He smiled at her as he ate. “We don’t have conventions or monthly meetings, darling. Not even a secret handshake.”
“But you never worked with any on this particular list.”
“I didn’t, no. If and when I worked with others, each would have a specific area.”
She gestured again. “Such as?”
“Well now, say you wanted to hit a bank. Not with the bursting in with weapons, all the shouting, and people huddled on the floor. That’s messy and too often violent. But you might want to find your way into a vault or some particular safe-deposit boxes. You might put together a team where everyone has their own area of expertise.”
Eve decided her best response was a grunt.
“If it helps? If I were to have planned the Barrister House job, I’d have worked alone, and I’d give you a probability of ninety that’s what happened here. It’s a basic job. The take’s staggering, but the work’s basic.”
“A man’s dead.”
“And shouldn’t be. Not only for human reasons, Eve, but because it was a basic, step-by-step job. Jam the security—and that wouldn’t be especially tricky—get inside—again, simple enough. Open the vault, which would take a bit of time but only rudimentary skill and some practice. Get the take, get out. But you’d prepare for contingencies. I don’t think you’ll find your killer on the list Brian gave me.”
“Because?”
“They’re experienced, and good at what they do. It’s the panic that doesn’t fit for me, not with this bunch. So I’m thinking, if I want to hiresomeone for a rich take but simple execution, why not someone I can get on the cheap? Someone good enough who’d do the job for a fraction of what someone—we’ll say like me—would demand.”
She sat back. “That’s a good angle. Damn it.”
“Might be they didn’t mean to kill Barrister. Just grabbed something to put him down so they could get out. That doesn’t matter,” he said before she could. “But it’s plausible.”
“Okay, yeah. It’s plausible. I’ll still look at the list.”
“Of course.”
Thinking it through, she ate another fry. “Someone less experienced might brag about pulling it off, dead man or not.”
“The quickest way to end up in the nick, but yes. Ears are out for such a thing.”
“Appreciated.”
He sat back with his beer. “As to the financials. The widow has her own business account where she deposits her fees, pays any business expenses for more than twenty years. She does quite well. The majority of their properties, stocks, accounts are held jointly. When he inherited the house, he had it put in both their names. He does—did—have an account in his name only, but that appears to be for his personal expenses, wardrobe, tailoring, grooming.”
He sipped his beer. “It’s all tediously aboveboard. We actually have the same accounting firm and estate attorney. But it’s not surprising, as they deal with wealth.”
“She inherits the lot?”
“He—and she—have provided very well for their daughters. He’s split his interest in Zip between his wife, his girls. His affairs, and his widow’s, are in meticulous order, as best I can tell. There’s nothing in either to indicate a gambling problem, an addiction to be fed, a side piece, or blackmail payments.”
“What I figured.”
“I ran through the daughters’—and that didn’t take long. I can give you the particulars, but it’s quicker to say they’re wealthy, responsible young women who haven’t, so far, abused their privilege.”
