An Erin McCabe Legal Thriller

Chapter 5

12

Martin Conroy stormed into his Park Avenue office overlooking the Waldorf Astoria, screaming at someone on his BlackBerry. ‘I don’t give a f**k if he is the mayor’s brother – tell him he’s a f*****g piece of s**t and I’m going to bury him and his f*****g client!’ He launched his briefcase into the corner of the room and stared at the ceiling. ‘Look, I have to go. I have people here. Just make sure you tell him that if I don’t get what I want, his client won’t be able to get a job cleaning up dog shit.’ He hit END, looked up, his demeanor suddenly shifting. ‘Cassie, my dear,’ he said obsequiously, walking over and giving Cassandra DeCovnie a peck on each cheek. He gave a quick head nod to his associate, Preston Harrison, who had followed him into the room. Then, with a quick tug on the French cuffs of his powder-blue shirt, he moved behind his desk, catching a glimpse of himself reflected in the glass of the de Kooning that hung on the wall behind his desk. At fifty-eight, he worked hard on his image as a high-priced lawyer. Today he wore a black pin-striped bespoke suit, with a pink silk Bvlgari tie and pocket square. He was tanned, and his silver hair was slicked back. He found it amusing when people compared his appearance to that of John Gotti in his prime. A comparison he had been known to exploit when trying to intimidate his adversaries. He worked out every day in an effort to maintain his physique, which, although it had softened with age, still showed traces of the high school wrestler in his square shoulders and barrel chest – attributes his custom-made suit emphasized.

‘You look lovely today,’ he said. ‘How was your trip to surrogate’s court?’ he asked, knowing he was going to provoke her.

DeCovnie glared at him. ‘A waste of my time,’ she spit out. ‘Two hours of waiting for the judge.’ Then, turning her icy stare toward Harrison, she added, ‘Only to have him speak privately with my attorney for thirty seconds and tell us we could go.’

‘Any updates from the prosecutor’s office on when we can get Charles’s computers?’ Martin asked, turning his attention to Harrison.

‘I spoke with Tom Willis, and he assures me that, once Ann is sentenced, we will get everything,’ Harrison responded with an air of confidence.

‘For Christ’s sake, she pled guilty, and he’s been dead for five months! I’m the f*****g executrix of his estate! I need those computers!’ DeCovnie screamed.

Conroy glanced over at Harrison. ‘Preston, I need to speak to Ms DeCovnie privately. Check my schedule with Angela, and have her set aside some time for us this afternoon.’

‘Why do you keep that little twerp around?’ DeCovnie growled once Harrison had left. ‘He’s useless.’

Conroy laughed. ‘I could lie to you and tell you that it’s because he’s a Harvard-educated lawyer, which he is, or that I admire his legal acumen, which I sometimes do. However, the reality is much simpler – his father owns sixty percent of the largest privately held pharmaceutical company in the country. So it turns out that Mr Harrison is very good for the firm’s bottom line.’ His smirk suggested it was a trade-off he was content to live with. ‘So what’s on your mind this morning, Cassandra?’

She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her forefingers and lowered herself onto a couch. ‘What’s on my mind?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Are you serious, Martin? The same thing that’s been on my mind for the last five months! We are dealing with an unmitigated disaster. Need I remind you that we still haven’t found Charles’s hard drives, hard drives full of s**t that could destroy a lot of people – you and me included. The prosecutor’s office won’t give us access to his computers. Arthur is apoplectic that the distribution list may well be on them. Not to mention that on either the desktop, laptop, or one of the hard drives, there is all his encrypted information on our offshore accounts. Without that information, we can’t get access to those accounts. Your associate, young Mister s**t for Brains, thinks I’m upset because I can’t get access to the hundred-million-dollar estate. And as nice as that will be, we both know that there should be five or six times that in our offshore accounts.’ She exhaled. ‘That’s what’s on my mind, okay?’

‘Cassie,’ Conroy began, leaning back in his chair. ‘I am acutely aware of the risk that exists with Charles’s hard drives missing. I know from speaking with Charles that, after Max and Carl had their tête-à-tête with that Mackey fellow, Charles thought he had solved the hacking problem. He told me that the IT guy had helped him move the financial information to the new laptop. However, I suspect that, after the hacking, Charles was a little spooked, so my guess is he hid the hard drives somewhere until he could secure all the data himself – certainly he wasn’t going to allow the IT person to do that. Of course, he didn’t plan on winding up dead,’ he added without the slightest hint of regret. ‘But I understand that still doesn’t answer the question of where the hard drives are.’ He spoke calmly, his demeanor belying the fact that those questions were eating at him too. But he had learned long ago that, in both the legal arena and the business world, the scent of fear, like blood in shark-infested waters, could be deadly.

Cassandra curled a leg up underneath her. Although she had long ago given up her modeling career, she still maintained her willowy figure, which was accented by the navy-blue Chloé suit she was wearing. ‘I was never as convinced as Charles that Mackey’s demise eliminated the problem. Max and Carl said that Mackey denied being the person responsible right up until the end.’ She inhaled and slowly blew her breath out between her lips. ‘As to where Charles might have hidden the hard drives, I don’t have a clue. I’ve been staying at his brownstone on East Sixty-Eighth for the last month, and they’re not there. I told you when I arrived at his Westfield house on that Sunday and found him, I looked for the hard drives before I called 911.’ She lowered her head. ‘I still kick myself for not taking his laptop before calling the police. If I had, we could have had access to those accounts five months ago.’

He smiled politely. He shared her regret that she didn’t take it, but he never put voice to it. He had his own tinge of regret for not answering her call when she discovered Charles’s body, which resulted in her calling young Mister s**t for Brains, as she so aptly called him. Of course, he found his absolution in the fact that he had been cavorting with several young women at the time she called and his phone was off, and she should have been astute enough to take the laptop without consulting with him.

‘What about Ann? Do you think she could have taken the hard drives?’ she asked.

‘There’s no reason to believe that she would even know about the hard drives,’ Conroy said darkly, masking his concern that Ann remained an unknown risk. For now, her guilty plea served his purposes, but he was all too aware that her usefulness had an expiration date.

Martin leaned forward in his chair, stroking his lower lip as he considered the problems he had inherited from his business associate. ‘I never understood Charles’s insistence on keeping her around. As you know, he was hardly the sentimental sort. Yet, despite the fact that she was – is – a danger to all of us, he allowed her to remain.’

DeCovnie bit her lower lip. ‘I don’t have to tell you that Charles was rather twisted. So let’s just say he enjoyed her ambiguity. After she attempted suicide, I think he always felt it was only a matter of time until she tried again. But, in the meantime, he just continued to have his way with her. He didn’t lose interest in her until she had the operation, and by then it would have been hard for her to disappear without raising suspicions.’ She paused. ‘And, as you know, Charles also had an insurance policy to make sure she stayed quiet. She knew that if she ever stepped out of line, Charles would have exacted his revenge.’

Martin raised a finger to his lips. ‘It appears in that regard, Ms DeCovnie, you have learned well.’

She shook her head. ‘I never threatened anyone. I merely suggested that if she took responsibility, everyone would remain protected.’

‘Well played.’

DeCovnie uncurled her leg, stood up, and walked toward the window, twirling a strand of her pearls around her finger. ‘Any luck finding the other one?’ she asked.

‘Nothing. We have the best on it, Sun International Security. My firm uses SIS on all of our sensitive cases. They’re mostly former intel types – discreet and thorough, with great contacts worldwide. If she’s out there, they’ll find her.

‘But she seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth,’ she said.

He turned to face her. ‘Oh, she’s still on the face of the earth.’

‘You still think it was her?’

‘Yes,’ he replied without hesitation.

‘She disappeared over eleven years ago. Why would she come back now?’

He rubbed his fingers across his chin, his eyes taking on a distant look. ‘Because revenge is a dish best served cold.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘That’s why we need to find her before she finds us.’