Tanya was already sitting in the car as they walked out, allowing Goren and Eames to talk privately. Eames explained the situation to him, then added diffidently at the end: "Listen, Bobby… we don't really have to do this, I guess. We can try to see this guy some other time. I know you've got to ring your mom."
"No. I'd like to get this over with. Besides… I have this feeling we need to speak to this guy." He shrugged, thinking for probably the thousandth time that he was incredibly lucky to have Alex Eames for his partner. They said no more, but Eames slid into the front seat of the car and instantly engaged Tanya in conversation whilst Goren took the back, allowing him some privacy for the call.
As they pulled up outside the familiar façade of the Towells Construction Head Office, they paused for a while in the car. "How do you want to play this?" Eames asked. She had called ahead and, interestingly, Alex Upton's secretary had said that he could see them for half an hour in between his afternoon appointments. Goren doubted very much if business practices in the UK were so different that the head of a major branch of a large multinational could easily fit two unexpected and non-business-related strangers into his schedule for half an hour with barely twenty minutes' notice. More than ever, he felt that they should speak to this man.
He shrugged, and rolled his head on his shoulders. "Honestly? I don't really know until we get in there. We know that Elahi was Upton's protégé, and that's probably why he pushed for us to be assigned to the case, but… I want to know if there's more to it that than."
He was almost grateful for the distraction now, focussing fiercely on the immediate task to prevent Sienna's last words ringing in his head, because if he allowed himself to think about that, he would come apart. As it was, he'd barely held it together during his conversation with his mother. Mercifully, she had been having a good day, and though telephone conversations were difficult for her, he was as sure as he could be that she understood that he would not be visiting tomorrow, and that he would see her next week as soon as he could. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he felt like Detective Goren again, not Bobby Goren, whose personal life was rapidly plunging off a cliff… No. Stay focussed.
Eames shrugged in reply. "Okay. You want me to open up?" In their partnership, that was their way of saying that they'd use a favourite tactic. Eames would play the straight man, asking all the questions the witness / suspect / possible person of interest expected the police to say, whilst Goren wandered around their space, picking things up, putting them down and generally being nosy. Nine times out of ten, it unsettled the intended recipient so much they would let something slip. Failing that, Goren's nosiness was usually their best guide to finding out the truth anyway.
"Yeah. We'll go with that."
Leaving Tanya waiting for them outside, they walked in, to be greeted by a new receptionist and the stares of some of the staff who recognised them from the last time they'd been there. Another young woman, who introduced herself as Upton's secretary, guided them up to the man's office. Usually, this would have taken them a lot more time and hassle and once again, Goren's intuition told him that there was something worth pursuing here.
Upton's office was immaculately furnished in the wood, glass and steel that was de rigeur for the executive set at present. The man himself was in his early fifties, dark-haired and with dark eyes behind steel-rimmed glasses.
"Detectives, good to see you. Do come in." He offered drinks, which they declined. After some brief pleasantries, they got down to business.
Eames began. "As you know, we're investigating the murder of your employee, Ranjit Elahi, and his wife, Miya. We thought that as we were here, you might appreciate a visit to update you on how things are going."
Upton smiled graciously. "I do appreciate it. Thank you for your consideration." He was too polite to break eye contact with Eames, but every so often, his eyes would flit off towards where Goren was exploring a set of shelves at the back of his office, which contained what looked like a collection of small sculptures, books and family photos.
Interesting. Eames probed further. "We understand that you and Mr Elahi… worked together sometimes, that you regarded him as something of a protégé, despite his being so junior compared to you."
Upton frowned briefly, then smiled. "I suppose that there's some truth in that. He was a brilliant young man, and I try to encourage talent within the organisation. We need to grow the next generation of managers to secure the future of the company."
"It speaks well of your company that you're so concerned about your employees," Goren contributed over his shoulder, suddenly bending down to look at something fascinating on the lower shelf.
Upton squirmed a little at Goren's politely ironic tone. "Well, you have to look after your people. Have you made any progress with finding Ranjit's murderer?" Clumsy transition there – he wants to know very badly.
Eames leaned forward. "We can't tell you much about this – there are legal reason. Off the record, I can tell you that we've arrested a man whom we have very good reason to believe is the killer."
Upton slumped back in his chair, looking far more relieved than one would expect of a man whose paid employee's killer has been found. He looked, Eames thought, more like a family member. "I'm… glad to hear that," he managed to reply, and she could hear the strain in his voice. Suddenly, he looked across at Goren and remarked sharply; "Detective, please would you put that down?"
Goren had found an interesting object. An oddly-shaped purple plastic box, it stood out in Upton's tastefully-furnished office like a teenage Goth at a retirees' tea party. He held it up. "This… this doesn't fit the décor of your office." That was an understatement. It was a lurid sparkly purple, and most teenage girls would have considered it too loud and tasteless.
Upton forced a smile. "Well… it was a… gift. From one of my children." He turned towards Goren, and suddenly his face was lit in profile by the afternoon sunlight through the window. Eames' eyes flicked to him, reading the very slight tell that only she knew him well enough to pick up. He'd just had a Eureka! moment, when suddenly several pieces of a puzzle fell into place…. Now, how to get Upton to confirm his sudden intuition? The only way I can, he thought, not without regret. Be brutal.
"Really? Oops! Oh, I'm sorry." Goren dropped it. It bounced harmlessly on the carpet, but neither of them missed how Upton almost dived to the floor to retrieve it.
"I guess it has sentimental value for you."
"Yes. Yes, it does."
"You're obviously very close to your children, Mr Upton." Goren circled close to the man, his tone gentle, understanding.
"Detective, I'm not quite sure I see the relevance of this."
"You're right, I'm just being curious. It's a habit of mind. I like to find out everything I can about people. Like Ranjit Elahi. Did you know that he didn't know his father?"
Upton's face was strained. Neither of them missed the signs; tight jaw, clenched fist, pale skin. "I'm certain he wouldn't want you telling me that."
"It was pretty common knowledge in the office, Mr Upton. In fact, it was more than just that he didn't know him. Even the receptionist knew Ranjit hated his father for abandoning him. But I guess he found the interest you took in his work consoling…"
Goren stopped abruptly. Upton's face had crumbled, and as he sunk down into his chair, hands covering his face, they could see that he was crying. Eames shot him a warning glance; go easy on this guy. He nodded in reply, feeling, as he often did, that he'd just acted like a complete bastard in the cause of justice, and, as he often did, not letting it show on his face for one second.
"You're more than just his mentor, aren't you? You're his father." Upton nodded, unable to speak, and they could see the resemblance to his son in his nose and cheekbones. "And.. would I be right in thinking that you took this from his desk as a souvenir?"
"More than that." Upton was speaking softly now. Goren realised with a pang that they were probably the only people he could ever speak to about this, if the pictures in the office of Upton with his arm around a woman and two beautiful blond children were anything to go by.
Upton took a deep breath and continued. "I married Ranjit's mother very young… we were young and naïve. Thought that love would conquer all." He shook his head. "We were too young anyway… I was only just twenty. I didn't realise how difficult it would be for us… the cultural expectations were so different… everyone thought we should never have got married, and when we started growing apart from each other…"
"It was easier just to leave her and start afresh?" Goren tried not to let his opinion of that show in his face.
"I didn't want to." Upton rocked back and forth. "I didn't want to, believe me. But Chandra wanted it… she wanted to start afresh, marry again if she could, and I did send money. She moved back in with her family, I married again. I heard that she remarried too, had a daughter. I resigned myself to never knowing my son… didn't want to interfere with his life… then, when I realised he'd gone into the same business that I was in…"
"You offered him the job?"
"I couldn't do that in this day and age… but I did indicate to our Human Resources people that, if there were no obviously superior candidates, I would appreciate it if they hired him."
"Then you tried to encourage him…"
"I didn't really need to… but even though I could never tell him I was his father, it was good to see him. He had so much promise… he even went down to the site to do a day's work there, said he wanted to understand what it was like to build structures, not just design them. Just like me at his age. He was a wonderful writer, too. Wrote a very entertaining blog about working here… no-one knew who it was, I guessed when I caught sight of him writing it during his lunchhour. I should probably have asked him not to… but I used to read it, to try to get close to him."
"Why couldn't you tell him you were his father?" Eames' voice was gentle, knowing well that pushing too hard would cause Upton to break down completely. He was obviously grief-stricken, and she thought that it must be truly appalling to lose a child and have to completely conceal your feelings from the world, when all you wanted to do was collapse. Wrote a very entertaining blog… then what she'd read hadn't been Elahi's journal, but his blog entries. They should have thought to check that, she mused, kicking herself mentally.
Upton shook his head despairingly, and smiled mournfully. "As you said, Detective. I abandoned him and his mother. He hated me, and with good reason."
"What was inside this box, Mr Upton?" Goren asked carefully. "I mean, the lock has been picked, so there must have been something worth having in there."
Upton sighed. "As I said, he wrote a blog about working here. Inside that box was the memory stick for the drafts for the blog. More like a journal than anything else… I couldn't resist reading them, they were like his last words to me…" He broke down, crying unashamedly.
"Can we see those entries?" Unable to speak, Upton nodded, and retrieved a short print-out. Eames scanned it, looking for differences between it and what she'd seen on Elahi's computer in New York. She wondered if they could get a subpoena for the memory stick itself. Probably, although the complexities of working a case under two different legal systems would slow the process down.
One thing stood out: "Speak to AU about steel supplier for CL! Don't believe what EC is telling me from prelim simulation. Computers – buggering it up or our saviours?"
"AU? Is that you, Mr Upton?"
Upton nodded. "Yes, I believe from other entries that it is. And EC is a friend of Ranjit's, Edward Cattley. They were at university together on the same course. Cattley works as an freelance contractor, running simulations for roof construction projects… Ranjit was so good at networking, I always tried to encourage that…"
"Do you know what he wanted to see you about?"
Upton's face crumbled again. "He said… he wanted to see me about some simulations he had Edward run on the City of London roofing project. He said… after he saw the build site, he thought the steel our supplier was sending us for the temporary roof was the wrong kind, that we were being ripped off. I told him he was being ridiculous, that this was an area he was inexperienced in… it got quite heated." He was lost in the memory now, which was obviously painful for him. "I shouted at him… among my last words to him were that our new supplier had the best bid when the old supplier went broke and besides, to find a supplier for such large volumes of steel at such short notice was almost impossible… those were among my last words to my son, oh God! If I'd just known!" He broke down again.
Eames continued to read through, finding nothing else of interest – much of this had been on Elahi's laptop, barring a couple of entries, including that one, from the day before he left for New York. He must have left the memory stick behind when he left London at such short notice, she thought. People could be absent-minded under stress, and, of course, he'd thought he was coming back in a couple of days…. They weren't going to learn much more here.
They left Upton to his grief.
"You think we've done anything for him?" she asked.
"Who knows? If we can get Andropov convicted of murder, then we've done all we can."
