Papa Jack Chapter 66
Ryan and Esposito find Melissa Jergen studying a large monitor displaying real-time financial inputs from around the world. Even from the back, her athleticism shows in her broad shoulders and well-developed arms. "Ms. Jergen," Ryan begins.
Jergen holds up a hand. "Just a minute. I need the new numbers from Tokyo. Oh, good. That's what I was expecting." She swivels in her chair, immediately taking in the upheld badges of the two detectives. Her eyebrow quirks. "Police detectives. Around here, we might expect the SEC to look over our shoulders, but not the NYPD. What do you need from me?"
"Ms. Jergen, did you make a call to Eric Donnelly this morning?" Esposito asks.
"I did," Jergen confirms. "We usually go running together in the park before sunrise when no one's around. But I told him I couldn't make it because I had to keep an eye on the foreign exchanges. Why? Did something happen to Eric?"
"Ms. Jergen, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Eric Donnelly is dead," Ryan says.
"And you might have been the last person to talk to him," Esposito adds.
"That's awful! He was a nice guy. But do you know if he ran this morning?" Jergen asks.
"He was found in running clothes," Ryan recounts.
Jergen nods. "Then I doubt that I was the last person to talk to him. Eric likes – liked – a running partner who would pace him, you know, push him to put in more effort. He hated running alone. So I suggested he meet up with Lorna Charles. I told Eric that I could give her a call to meet him at the park. She's run with both of us before, and she really enjoys running with Eric. She reads his books and loves to find out little bits and pieces about how he comes up with his stories. She would have pumped him while they ran. She wouldn't have been able to help herself. So, if anyone was the last person Eric talked to, it was probably Lorna."
"Do you know where we can find her?" Esposito queries. "Would she be at work or at home?"
"Both. Lorna works from home. She's a day trader and a very successful one. They're some guys here who wish they could drum up her rate of return."
"Do you know where she lives?" Ryan asks.
"Sure. She's been fixing up one of those old industrial lofts in SOHO. I went to her housewarming." Jergen picks up a PDA from beside her monitor. "I have her address in here."
"Thank you, Ms. Jergen," Ryan says, jotting down the address on his notepad. "And I'm very sorry for your loss."
"Do you believe her?" Esposito asks as he and Ryan exit the building. "She seemed pretty cold about losing a friend."
Ryan's face lights with a goofy grin. "Compared with Jenny, any woman seems cold to me. And if Donnelly really was just a running partner to her, maybe she wasn't that broken up. I want to see how Lorna Charles reacts to the news. And maybe we can get some tips. Day trading could be a great way to make extra money."
Esposito snorts. "Or lose your shirt. As cops, we have a salary and insurance. And we can retire with a pension. At least you can see the scumbags on the street coming. The idiots on Wall Street can screw up your life without ever leaving their chairs."
"They screw up yours?" Ryan questions.
"Not mine, but the mother of a buddy of mine. She scraped everything together for years. She was just about to buy a house. Nothing big or fancy. Just one of those little boxes they built in Jersey in the '60s. It was 1987, so it wasn't that old yet. She was working for a big company that had been making great profits for years. So, she joined the savings plan there to buy stock. She was in the process of selling it to make her down payment. Then, in one day, her stock was worth half what it had been. She didn't have enough to make her down payment. She lost the house. She lost her deposit. The family was stuck in a sh*t apartment, and she never got a chance to buy a house again. No way I'm going near stocks. Too much risk."
Ryan stares at his partner. "You were in Special Ops and you think the stock market is too risky?"
"Yeah, I'll take a gun or a bomb, something I can expect and defend against rather than some jerk pushing a button on his computer, any day. At least whoever killed Donnelly used a knife. That I can understand."
"OK, Man. Let's go see if Lorna Charles can clue us in on who that was."
"It's been a while since we just had lunch together, Richard," Jack notes over burgers at Remy's.
"I know, Dad, probably too long. But I wanted to talk about something that affects me but sort of ties to you."
Jack holds a fry over a pool of ketchup. "Richard, I'm your father. Everything that affects you ties to me."
"This is a more direct tie than most." Richard holds up a copy of The Ledger folded to a gossip column. "Have a look."
"When the first intimations of an affair between Broadway diva Martha Rodgers and best-selling writer Richard Castle surfaced, most of us laughed it off as making too much of a working relationship. The two are both heavily involved in the upcoming fundraiser for starving actors and writers. But multiple appearances of the pair together around town have begun to ramp up speculation about a December – May relationship. Has Martha Rodgers turned cougar? Has Richard Castle developed a taste for a more experienced woman? Curious minds want to know."
"At least Ms. Dish doesn't accuse either one of you of having bad taste," Jack comments.
"True," Richard acknowledges, "but reporters are going to be poking around for a story. They might dig up more than they bargained for. And if they do, I don't want my mother to be sandbagged. I should tell her before she finds out the hard way."
"You're a big boy, son. If you want to tell Martha she's your biological mother, tell her. But you can't tell her anything about the company or anything that's happened because of my history. You know that. If any of that stuff comes out, you'll be even more of a target. Martha could be, too. You're going to have to be careful of your every word."
"Dad, as a writer, I'm more than used to that. But I have no idea how to even bring the subject up."
Jack points to the newspaper. "How about the same way you did with me? Show her the innuendo and tell her that you need to set the record straight."
Richard shrugs. "I can't think of anything better. But I may have another problem. Kate Beckett wants to keep whatever is happening between us under the radar. Martha had been serving as a bit of misdirection. But if I set matters straight about that relationship, then the press may start sniffing around Kate. She won't be happy."
Jack shakes his head. "I can't help you with that one, son. And I'm not the person to give advice about relationships. But whichever way it goes, I'm in your corner."
"Yeah, Dad. I know you are. Thanks."