CHAPTER FOURTEEN - CATCH OF THE DAY

Lee had just returned to the Agency and was rummaging in the refrigerator of the Q-Bureau when Amanda came back from her class. It was almost three o'clock, and he'd spent the past four hours poking around a disgusting hotel room for a non-existent body, then asking the same fifteen questions of people not interested in giving any answers. Still, when he heard the office door open, he turned to her.

"What could he possibly have to talk about, huh?" he said, grinning.

"I know I know. Famous last words." She sighed and tossed her notebook on the desk. "Is Dr Smyth still downstairs with Mr Melrose?"

"I'm right here, as a matter of fact," Dr Smyth said from the door of the office. Amanda jumped a little. "Figured I'd stretch my legs and see if you had anything new to share. What's new, Scarecrow?"

Lee frowned. "Not much," he said. "The tire shop across the street from the motel has a camera, but their tape is terrible and it's impossible to make out anything at that distance. And as for evidence in the room, well —"

"Desmond told us. There is none."

"Right." Lee stood for a moment, thinking, before he realized he was holding two slices of bread in his hands. He dropped them on the plate on his desk. "Anyway. There's something funny about that."

"That's an understatement if I ever heard one," Smyth said. "Marshall Warren hasn't spent much time in the field but I believe he saw what he did. I just don't believe what he saw was real."

"I don't either," Lee said.

"Why would someone do that?" Amanda asked, perching on the corner of her desk.

"To put the squeeze on him," Smyth said. He moved across the room to the sofa. "I've been doing a little poking around on my own."

Lee turned to look at his superior, one eyebrow raised. "Care to share what you found out?"

Smyth nodded. Lee wrenched the lid off a jar of mayonnaise.

"Here, I'll do that," Amanda said, crossing the room and nudging Lee out of the way. She took the jar from him. "You two talk."

"You should listen," Lee said.

"I have two kids, Lee. I can make a sandwich and quiz you about state capitals and photosynthesis at the same time." She waved him away. "Besides, my sandwiches are better than yours. You're too heavy-handed with the mayo."

He opened his mouth to say that was a matter of opinion and then remembered there was a third person in the room — one who probably wasn't amused by their back-and-forth. He drew up a chair across from Smyth and sat down, pad of paper on his knee. "What've you got?"

"I put out a few feelers the other day, with some of the Warren Company's shareholders."

"You mean Bert Bellingham?"

"Everyone but Bert Bellingham," Smyth said. "Bert's not a reliable witness, you've probably gathered that."

"Well I've been trying to, but he's been pretty elusive." Lee glanced at his watch. "I was supposed to catch up with him sometime today."

"You probably won't." Dr Smyth leaned back on the sofa, crossing his legs.

"Do you think he's behind all this?"

"The woman or the funny accounting?"

"You think they're separate things?"

"I haven't decided yet. You have any thoughts on that?"

"We don't have a clear connection between the two of them yet," Lee said. "Besides Bellingham, potentially." Lee leaned forward in his chair. 'You said the other day that you think it's about his ties to us. What makes you so sure?"

"Because like I said, they're trying to dirty him up. In more than one way. I think they want this to be his closing-down sale. Someone's trying to turn him from a high-end emporium to a junk shop. Discredit him, no one will buy what he's selling. You follow?"

"So he must have turned up intelligence on someone that's ringing alarm bells," Lee said. He turned, surprised, as Amanda handed him a plate, and held out another to Dr Smyth.

"Ham and cheese," she said. "Not glamorous but you were in that meeting even longer than I was. I'm sure you didn't stop for lunch."

Lee watched as Smyth took it, surprised, balancing the plate on the sofa beside him. "I didn't," he said.

"There's fresh coffee, too." Lee bit into a sandwich to hide his smile as Amanda held out a steaming mug. "I, uh, don't know how you take it."

Smyth nodded. "That's fine." He sipped, then set the cup down on the floor by his feet. "Wasn't expecting meal service when I came up here," he muttered, "but I'm not complaining." He launched back into what he'd discovered. "I went back through Marshall's reports the other night and I ran across a juicy little tidbit. He heard some chatter a few months back about a black market network, some of his old pals in the retail game were trying to sell knock-offs as if they were the genuine article."

Amanda frowned from her spot behind Lee's desk. "Is that a national security thing?"

"Fraud can always be a national security thing, Mrs King."

She nodded. "Were there any arrests?"

"None of it panned out. We caught a couple of minnows but no big fish."

"What kind of items were they, uh, trading?" Lee asked, thinking suddenly of their list of fake accounts.

"Upscale kitchen gadgetry. Clothing. Handbags. Your usual catalog of frippery that appeals to someone who fancies themselves upwardly mobile."

The phone rang, and Lee hesitated before picking it up. Smyth made a motion towards it with one hand. "Don't wait on me," he said. "Could be important."

It was Jimmy Wilbur. "I found out something pretty interesting about Carrington Textiles," he said.

"Let me guess, it's not legit," Lee said, wondering if he should mention that Jimmy was two hours late with his info.

"Not entirely, no." He heard paper rustling. "It seems to be an actual textiles wholesaler, but there's some other weird stuff going on here and there. Friday morning they wired $50,000 to that fake account you told me about. The one with Marshall Warren's name on it."

"They did?"

"Yeah. And then this morning his account wired the money back."

"Do you know if any goods ever actually change hands?"

"I can't tell that from here, not without a warrant to look at their records in detail. But I did go down a little rabbit hole after that, which is why I'm calling you so late. You gave me all that stuff from the Warren Company accountant, and I poked around a little and called him up with a few more questions. Turns out Carrington Textiles doesn't do business directly with the store, but they supply fabric to a… I don't know… fashion house or whatever you call it… called Liza Deveaux Designs. And the Warren Company has a contract with that company."

"That's not unusual, is it?"

"No, but this Liza Deveaux business shares a head office with Carrington Textiles."

"So you think they're the same company?"

"Honestly, when I asked the accountant about them he had to call me back and said something didn't look right with the deal. He wouldn't elaborate, but he said he had to talk to the head of purchasing about it because he'd signed off on it and it was, and I quote, highly irregular." Lee could hear Jimmy flipping through the paper on his desk again. "Guess he has some pretty tight rules around procurement and this guy wasn't following them."

"Huh. What do you think was so irregular?"

"I can guess. I called the store and told them I was looking for a dress for my wife, and asked if they had any Liza Deveaux designs. I got passed around to three assistants and none of them had ever heard of her, and they didn't carry a single garment with that label."

"So you think Liza Deveaux is a fake."

"Yep. I can keep poking at it if you want."

"That's fine, Jimmy. Thanks. It gives me an idea."

Lee hung up the phone and turned back to Smyth and Amanda, who were both watching him expectantly.

"The plot thickens, I'm guessing," Smyth said, brushing crumbs from his fingers.

"Considerably," Lee said. He gave them a recap of his conversation with Agent Wilbur, and as he spoke an plan began to form. "I think we should sweat this head of purchasing a little."

"How?" Amanda asked.

"I have an idea." He glanced at Smyth. "We might need to add one to the team for this, if you're okay with that."

"Who?"

"Francine Desmond."

"I'm trying to keep this quiet, Scarecrow, not create an entire task force."

"I know, but I think she'll add a little authenticity to the whole thing that Amanda or I can't."

"How so?"

"Well, she's a bit of a fanatic when it comes to designer labels. She could play the part without thinking twice."

"What part?" Amanda asked.

"Liza Deveaux."

Amanda frowned. "Is Liza Deveaux a real person?"

"I'm pretty sure she isn't, but what better way to unsettle this guy than for her to show up wanting to see her dresses on the floor? And for her to bring along a business partner from Carrington Textiles who wants to talk about their arrangement?"

Amanda's brow wrinkled in a way Lee always thought was adorable and a little distracting. "What good will unsettling him do?"

"We'll smoke him out," Smyth explained, without his usual condescension. "If he's the one behind the whole thing, we'll have our man."

"Is he a minnow, or a big fish?" Amanda asked.

"Catch of the day," Lee said, chuckling a little.

"What am I missing here?" Amanda asked. "Is this about Mr Warren's cover? Or about stealing money from his business?"

Lee caught Dr Smyth's eye, and he saw the same gleam of recognition there that he felt. "I think." Lee said slowly, "it might be about both."