Papa Jack Chapter 75
Aldie Rapner, the receptionist at Lofner and Peters, glances up at Esposito and Ryan. "More police detectives? Detective Newsome said he was finished with his questioning here."
"I'm Detective Ryan, and this is Detective Esposito. We're from a different precinct than Detective Newsome, and we discovered a possible connection between one of our cases and the murder of Carlton Snodgrass," Ryan explains.
Rapner's expression quickly shifts from ennui to interest. "Are you talking about the Donnelly murder? I read about it in The Ledger."
"We can't discuss an ongoing investigation," Esposito interjects. "But," he holds up his phone with the screen capture of the mystery woman, "does she work here?"
Rapner studies the image. "She doesn't usually come in dressed like that, but it looks like that might be Ms. Peters."
"Ms. Peters, as in Lofner and Peters?" Ryan asks.
"Yes, Loretta Peters. When her father, Jonathan Peters, died five years ago, she took his place as managing partner. She does a very thorough job, keeps her finger on everything that happens around here."
"So, if an employee had a problem or a complaint, Ms. Peters would hear about it?" Ryan queries.
Rapner gives a vigorous nod. "I'd bet on it."
"Is Ms. Peters in now?" Esposito asks.
"Oh yes, she got in at her usual time, nine o'clock. I believe she goes running or to the gym before she comes in. She stays very trim."
"I'm sure she does," Ryan responds pleasantly. "We need to talk to her to tie up a few odds and ends about the case. Where can we find her?"
"Third floor, corner office. Turn left when you get off the elevator. You can't miss it."
When the detectives arrive at her office door, Loretta Peters is poring over a spreadsheet. Alarm, quickly suppressed, flashes in her eyes as she looks up. "I told Detective Newsome that no one around here could tell him anything else about Carleton Snodgrass's death. I don't know what kind of help I can be to you, gentlemen."
Esposito holds up his phone as he and Ryan approach Loretta's desk. "The first thing you can tell us is, is this you?"
Loretta studiedly gazes at the image before shrugging. "I don't know. I can't see the face. I have a running suit like that, but so do a lot of other women. They're very popular right now. Actually, my sister has one too."
"Your sister?' Ryan queries.
"Lorna Charles. She's my half-sister, really. Same mother, different fathers. Lorna's father died not long after she was born. Our mother remarried to my father. A few years back, we lost him too. Lorna and I look a lot alike and choose some of the same clothes. We're both runners."
"Interesting that you should mention that," Esposito says. "This picture was taken outside Michael Donnelly's apartment. Your sister was running with Michael Donnelly the morning he was murdered. Did you know that?"
"I had no idea," Loretta claims. "I haven't talked to her in a few days. She hit a rough spot in her work, and she's been concentrating on ironing it out. I'll have to give her a call. She read all of Michael Donnelly's books. She was a very devoted fan. But I would have assumed you were here to talk about Carleton Snodgrass's death. So sad. As far as I know, Carleton was the best accountant this company's ever had. We'll miss him."
"As I understand it, Snodgrass was not well-liked around here," Esposito says.
"People who are that much into math can be a little strange sometimes. Some of our staff felt slightly uncomfortable around him. Our HR people had to occasionally remind him not to hum in his cubicle. And he always was marking things in purple instead of a standard color. But other than that, he didn't have a conflict with anyone here."
"So you have no idea who would have wanted to kill Snodgrass?" Ryan queries.
"None."
"And you have no idea who might have wanted to kill Michael Donnelly?"
"I didn't even know Michael Donnelly. I mean, my sister introduced us once at the park where we all ran sometimes. That's the only time I ever spoke with him, and I don't think we exchanged more than a sentence or two. I'm sorry, detectives, I really can't help you."
"We understand, Ms. Peters," Ryan says. "Thank you for your time."
"Did you see how fast Loretta brought up her sister?" Ryan asks as Esposito starts their unit.
"It's like some old Perry Mason plot. They set things up so if either one of them was ever charged with murder, their lawyer could create doubt by pointing a finger at the other one," Esposito says.
Ryan nods. "The trouble is, it could work. We don't have anything solid to prove who killed Snodgrass or Donnelly."
"But the double L sisters are the link between the two murders," Esposito points out.
"And the Snodgrass murder linked to Donnelly's counterfeiting investigation gives us enough to get a warrant for Lofner and Peters' financial records," Ryan realizes. "We can get the phone records for Loretta and Lorna, too."
"The smoking gun's gotta be in there somewhere," Esposito declares.
"You mean the dripping knife," Ryan corrects.
"That's gonna be a hell of a lot of paper," Esposito grumbles.
"We both know someone who reads really fast," Ryan reminds him.
Esposito groans. "Do we have to bring Castle into the case again?"
"If we want to get something we can show to Montgomery, it would help," Ryan says. "Beckett will probably – unofficially – want to help too. But our names will still be the ones listed as closing both cases."
"Yeah. All right, Bro," Esposito concedes. "But after we get all those records, we talk to Beckett, not Castle. She can be the one to call him in."
"Sure," Ryan agrees. "Whatever."
Richard looks around at the banker's boxes filling the 12th Precinct's conference room. "These are all records from Lofner and Peters?"
"Uh-huh," Ryan confirms.
"This is a trick companies use when they're getting sued," Kate offers. "My father told me about it. The party with the greater number of resources buries the other party in paper. They send over what's requested but also so much other crap that the opposing counsel can't dig out what's relevant to the case. The little guy misses the court deadlines, and the case gets dismissed."
"Great!" Esposito mutters.
"Never fear!" Richard declares. "I had more research material than this for my third book. And I had Black Pawn breathing down my neck about making my deadline. I managed, and so will we. I'll make the espressos. But Beckett, when you get tired, I'm taking you home. If you suffer a setback from digging through this avalanche, these fine detectives may have to charge your father with murder – mine."
Kate rolls her eyes. "Castle."
"Writer boy's got a point, Beckett," Esposito says.
"And the sooner you get well and are back here officially, the better Montgomery will like it," Ryan adds.
"Fine," Kate grits out. "But let's get started."
Moving silently through the shadows, Jack surveils Gerkov's approach to his warehouse. The Russian walks slowly and carefully, carrying a heavy-duty box. Jack has no doubt as to the box's contents – completed bombs. By Jack's calculations, Gerkov has now put together almost enough of them to completely take down Loftview and kill everyone inside. Jack has no doubt that the explosives expert will complete his task in plenty of time. Of course, Jack could blow up the warehouse after all the bombs are assembled. He could even blow it up now. But that wouldn't stop Anatoly. He'd find some way to go after Richard again. Jack has to allow Gerkov to continue and Anatoly to believe his plan will succeed. He has to believe it will until Jack makes sure that it doesn't – and there will never be another one.