“They’re six hours ahead, at least until Daylight Savings,” I say. “But I think we’re better off keeping things local.” I look to Erin. “Your brother lives here in the States, yes?”
“In the Atlantic Bay Towers in Westport,” she says sourly. “He’s got a penthouse where he likes to spend his winters.”
I lay out my plan. It’s just a little something I came up with while Erin and Elodie were commiserating. Bertram is private; all my Google searches this afternoon came up empty when I looked for personal details. There are no hints at what his private life is like. And I’ve never been to the Atlantic Bay Towers, but I have driven past the place, and I know that it’s a tacky modern skyrise with a waterfront view and guards at the door. No worries. Mr. X will be able to get me in.
“We’ll show up as reporters writing a story,” I say. “Elodie will be my supervisor. I’m a new hire trying to prove my worth at the paper so I can get hired officially. While I’m interviewing him, Elodie will make some excuse to leave the room. She’ll look for anything usable in his computer.”
“How will you get into his computer?” Erin asks.
“We have our ways.”
“I’ll bring a dummy laptop to replace his, and we’ll steal the real one?” Elodie guesses. It’s a genius idea, though I’m not sure if we’d be overpromising to agree to it. We don’t even know the model he has, much less where to get another one. But I like her confidence, and I’ve never been one to let semantics get in the way.
“We’ll adapt to what’s available and find a way,” I promise her.
Erin looks skeptical. “What if you don’t get what you need?”
“We will,” Elodie says. “We’ve never failed before.” She’s so good at acting confident, I would never believe this was her first job if I didn’t know better. On the drive here, she was nervously scrolling through notes she’d typed out on her phone to prepare.
“He will have an opportunity to redeem himself,” I say. “I have to tell you that, in the name of full disclosure. That’s how we operate. Once we have the proof that he stole your idea, we offer him a chance to come clean. If he takes it, he can redeem himself by giving you back the credit for your idea and returning the money to his investors. And if he doesn’t—he rots in a federal prison.”
Even as I say this, I’m struck by what a simple job thiswill be. Two spoiled rich kids duking it out over a family fortune. It should be easy enough to solve in under a week. I can’t imagine why Mr. X thought it was worth our time. He always goes for the challenges—the true puzzles of the world that can’t be solved by a simple police investigation.
Mr. X doesn’t exactly advertise his services. He works purely by word of mouth on the dark web, and he only accepts payment when the work is completed, leaving us off the hook if we can’t complete a job—which has never happened to me.
Erin seems satisfied, though. To her, this will mean the world. She’ll get her life back, or her reputation, at the very least. Maybe Mr. X has a particular soft spot for her, or maybe he’s getting soft as time goes on. Although Mr. X stays objective in all his jobs, something feels personal about this one. He has always loved technology, and while Budgie may not be of any special interest to him, he holds a special disdain for what billionaires are doing to the world. Nailing Bertram Casimir can satisfy some of his repressed rage.
When we were kids, he was obsessed with electronics, especially computers. He wanted to do something to better the world, my brother. In his own way, he is. But I know that he’ll never think he’s doing enough. He scoops one bucket from the ocean, and it starts to rain.
“Oh, there’s one other thing,” Erin says, just as I’m reaching for the doorknob. Elodie and I both turn, and I think Elodie feels the same shift in the air that I do. Erin’s face has gone very sober. “When Bertram moved here, he wasn’t alone. He was dating a dear friend of mine, Annie. She disowned me during my spat with my brother, butwe’d known each other and been close like sisters since primary school and I still love her anyway.”
“You want revenge against her, too?” Elodie guesses. “She was part of this?”
“No.” Erin shakes her head earnestly. “It’s just that nobody’s heard from her in months. I’ve checked with her family and it appears I’m not the only one she’s cut out of her life, but I think it’s more than that. Nobody has heard from her at all, and nobody has seen her. I think—” She hesitates. It takes effort for her to spit out the words, “I think something awful may have happened.”
“Awful?” I ask, although I’m beginning to understand. There it is. The real reason Mr. X sent us out here. It isn’t just some stolen app and a greedy billionaire. Still, I need her to say it. “What do you mean ‘awful’?”
“I think—” She’s wringing her hands, once again the nervous shut-in who first greeted us. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. I hate my brother, but I’d never think him capable…I just, I think he’s done something to her. I think she may be dead.”
Four
“Holy shit,” Elodie says once we’re back inside her SUV. “Holyshit.”
I don’t answer right away. I’m too busy replaying everything about Erin’s demeanor. She was strange, although that isn’t unexpected. Living in one of Connecticut’s wealthiest suburbs, I’ve met my share of quirky rich people, though Erin is the first to have lost everything. She must really believe she’s right if she was willing to lose her family over it. If she just called her parents and admitted fault, they’d welcome her back.
“Do you think he’s a murderer?” Elodie asks.
“I don’t think anything yet,” I say. “I have to meet him.”
She taps her finger against the steering wheel. “How are you so calm about this? What if he tries to killus?”
“In a secure building filled with security cameras? I wouldn’t worry about that. Besides, you forget that we’re always being watched. We’ll be safe.”
She shakes her head. “You sound awfully confident.”
I stare pensively through the window as we pull out of the driveway. My phone is buzzing in my pocket. Mr. X will want to know how it went, and what we’re planning, so I’ll have to spend the ride thinking about my strategy.
My phone buzzes again. I slide it out of my pocket and look at the screen. His latest text:Give E a chance. Let her in on whatever you’re thinking.
