Blood Rubies (37 page)

“You got to McArthur through Ana, right?” I asked.

“Through Ana and Jason. Ana worked for McArthur. Jason recommended his company as a buy. Another loser. McArthur sells out and gets rich while all his investors lose their shirts.”

“How did you find Drake Milner?”

Stefan rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. “Why?”

“My client is willing to pay top dollar for an antique that lacks provenance. One of his concerns is that Milner inflated his appraisal. Of course I'll be appraising the egg, too, but my client has rightly observed that I'm hardly objective. I'm hoping you'll give me some information I can use to reassure my client.”

“Reassurance is a mirage, since people believe what they want to believe. It's astonishing the deluded narratives we humans weave to satisfy our need for stability.” He shrugged. “You can only imagine the hoopla if I'd gone to one of the big outfits. So I didn't. I consulted an industry association to find a Russian decorative objects expert. Milner headed the list.”

“What did you think of Kovak's work?”

He gave a little snort. “It was atrocious, but I had no time. I had to use it. When I devised the plan, I had no expectation that Ana would reclaim the egg. Why would I? She never wanted it in her possession before. I was certain I could make a recovery, pay off the loan, and get the egg back safe and sound, with no one the wiser. That damn television show—don't get me wrong. I'm happy for her, of course I am, but the timing couldn't have been worse.” He paused, shaking his head. “I had to get the replica made quickly. I had no choice.”

“And when you picked it up, mineral oil spilled.”

“That old fool.”

“You brought the original to McArthur and the replica to Ana.”

He stared out over the pond for several seconds, then turned back to face me. “How does it work? This sale?”

I leaned in close and lowered my voice even further. “We launder the egg in addition to the money. You sign a bill of sale to a company in Panama. They sell it to a London gallery. That gallery does research and finds previously undiscovered documentation authenticating the egg. They then sell it to the Russian client, openly.”

“So he pays twice. Three million to me and who knows how much to the London gallery.”

“Three times, actually. Three million to you. Five million to the Panamanian company. And twenty million to the London gallery. Everybody's happy because what was merely a beautiful artifact without provenance, worth at most eight million dollars, is now transformed into a priceless possession, worth anything, more than a hundred million dollars, certainly, on the open market.”

“How do you make money?”

“I charge a buyer's premium. Nineteen percent.”

Stefan nodded. “Of course. And the Panamanian company will do the same. And the London gallery.”

“Yes.”

“Someone has twenty-eight million dollars to spend on this egg?”

“Between you and me, I think he's a mobster.”

“I'll need time to have a proper replica created. Ana can't ever know about it.”

“I can help you arrange that.” I opened my tote bag and pulled out my phone. “What number should I call you on?”

Stefan gave me the number of the disposable phone with a 617 area code, the one that had been purchased at Lucky Electronics.

“Got it,” I said. “Did your girlfriend Carly buy this for you?

He sighed again. “Yes, she got one for each of us.” He blinked. “How on earth did you know that?”

I stared at him, the red-hot anger I'd been quashing bubbling to the surface. “I know everything. I know how and why you killed Jason. I know why you killed Milner. I even know why you tried to kill me. Your goose is cooked.”

Stefan stood up.

Dawn came hurrying across the open area. “That's enough, Josie.”

Stan stood behind Stefan.

“What's going on?” Stefan asked, looking around wildly.

I stepped back, nearly panting with pent-up emotion. I was both enraged and outraged.

Stan identified himself and showed his badge. He kept his voice low. “I need you to come to the station, sir. Your son is already there.”

Stefan blanched, stricken. “Peter. I must go to him.”

Stan and Stefan walked quickly across the floor and out the door. I stood, still breathing hard, hoping I hadn't ruined everything with my outburst, knowing I couldn't have keep quiet if I'd tried. Dawn came and patted my back.

“It's okay,” she said.

“No, it's not. I lost control. I messed up.”

“Hard to see it that way from where I sit.” She pressed her earpiece. “Let's go. The powers that be want us pronto.”

I girded myself, certain I was about to get yelled at.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“We'll talk later,” Ellis said as the technician removed the wires that ran along my spine. “I don't want to lose any momentum. You'll go back into the observation room. Text me if you think of anything or if I'm wrong about anything.”

“Okay.”

“Ana's here, too. She came as soon as she saw the photos Wes published, the ones you sent him of Peter getting arrested.”

I raised my chin. “I figured she would.”

Ellis held the door for me. “Let's go.” He shook his head, a rueful expression on his face. “A Panamanian company? A Russian collector who's in the mob?”

I smiled, my saucy one. “I told you I had a good plan.”

*   *   *

I got settled in the observation room, sitting next to Daryl, who was wearing headphones and concentrating on sound levels. I was tired and achy and still fuming. I wanted to go to work. I wanted to go home. I wanted this to be over.

Ana sat at the foot of the long table, her hands primly folded, her shoulders hunched forward. She looked as tired as I felt. Peter sat to her right, tapping his foot. Detective Brownley and Griff sat in back of Peter on metal folding chairs they'd positioned against the wall.

Stefan stepped into the room and froze. “What's going on here?”

“Daddy,” Ana said, sitting up.

“Don't say a word,” Peter said.

Ellis, coming in behind Stefan, pointed to the chair next to Peter and closed the door. Stefan sat down. Ellis took his usual chair at the head of the table. He slid the sheet containing the Miranda warning across the table to Stefan.

“Please take a minute and read this,” Ellis said.

Stefan signed it without reading it and slid it back.

Ellis smiled at him, man to man. “I'm hoping you'll decide to help your son.”

“Of course. Always.”

“No, Dad,” Peter said. “Don't say a word. It's all a trick to squeeze me for a confession.”

“A confession?” Stefan asked, bewildered. He faced Ellis. “What do you think my son needs to confess?”

“You need to know that arrest warrants have arrived. For Peter. The charges are serious, obstructing justice and tampering with evidence. The DA is still considering whether to add a charge of accessory to murder after the fact. What I need to ask you about now is laundry, your laundry.” Ellis explained how and why Peter had been arrested. “The charges, while serious, are ancillary to the main issue, of course. I don't need his confession. What I need is yours—I need you to tell me about killing Jason Ferris, which, of course, may well have been an accident.”

Peter fist-pounded the table. “Don't fall for it, Dad. They can't charge me with anything if we don't talk.”

“The charges have already been filed. The paperwork is in my office. If I have to execute the warrants, I will.” Ellis turned to Stefan. “If you tell us what happened to Jason, honestly and completely, I'm sure the DA will drop these charges.”

“Forget it,” Peter said.

“It's the only thing you can do to help him,” Ellis said. “It's also the right thing to do. Tell me what happened. Tell the truth.”

“It was an accident,” Stefan said, his eyes down.

Ana gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth.

“No!” Peter shouted. “Not another word.”

Ellis touched Stefan's arm, and when he looked up, he met his eyes. “You have my word, Stefan. I'll do everything I can to ensure that your son is not arrested on these charges.”

Stefan bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Ellis nodded at Griff and Detective Brownley. They stood up. Griff approached Ana.

“Let me walk you out,” he said.

“Daddy?”

“Go,” Stefan said.

She kept his eyes on his for a moment, then followed Griff from the room.

Detective Brownley touched Peter's upper arm. “Sir?”

“Forget it,” he said, brushing her hand aside. “Feel lucky you got Ana out. I'm staying.”

“No, you're not,” Stefan said. “I don't want you here.”

“Too bad. I'm staying.”

Ellis joined Detective Brownley beside his chair.

“If I have to haul you out of the chair,” Ellis said, “you might get hurt. It's better to leave upright, under your own steam.”

Peter looked up at him. “Tough guy, huh?”

“Tough has nothing to do with it. You can go easy or you can go hard, just so long as you're clear on one thing—you're going.”

“Peter,” Stefan said softly, “you have no part in this. Go comfort your sister.”

Peter stared at his father for ten seconds, maybe longer, then stood up and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

The interrogation room was quiet as we waited for Detective Brownley to return.

From outside, I heard a lawn mower rev up, then shut down. A dog barked. A car door shut.

Griff stuck his head in and asked Ellis if he wanted anything.

“Would you like some water?” Ellis asked Stefan.

“Yes, please.”

Ellis glanced at Griff, and he backed out of the room. I had to stop myself from laughing at their mannerly conversation, so polite, so gentlemanly, so bizarre.

Detective Brownley came into the room and spoke to Stefan. “Your children asked me to tell you they'll wait in the lobby.”

“They should leave. There's nothing for them to do.”

“I told them the same thing,” she said, “but they want to stay.”

“They love you,” Ellis said.

Griff returned carrying a clear plastic pitcher in one hand and a stack of white plastic cups in the other. He poured a cup for Stefan and placed it in front of him. Stefan thanked him. Griff asked if anyone else wanted any, and when Ellis and Detective Brownley said no, he placed the pitcher and cups on the table and left the room.

Ellis glanced at the video cameras to confirm that the red lights were on, indicating the machines were running.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk to us.”

“Josie was a plant,” Stefan said. “There is no Russian collector.”

“That's right,” Ellis said. “She was wearing a wire. We have the recording. Two undercover police officers were on the scene as well, also listening in.”

Stefan paused, thinking. “If I recall correctly, the only crime I admitted to was replicating the Fabergé egg without telling the owner. I doubt you can charge me with fraud. It would require that my daughter testify against me, and I don't think she will.”

“I agree with you. That's why I asked to talk to you privately. The charges against your son are not a put-up job. They're serious. He'll be convicted and he'll do hard time. You need to tell me the truth. Start with Jason. You said killing him was an accident.”

Stefan sipped water. He seemed oddly calm. “Jason was in Ana's house when I got there. I'd never met him before, but of course I'd heard of him from Ana and Heather, and I recognized him from his photo.” He raised and then lowered his shoulders, trying to relax, perhaps. “Can you imagine how I felt walking in with the reproduction egg in my hand? Here he was, the cause of my downfall, the man that drove me to crime.” Stefan shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. “He was insufferable.”

“What happened?”

“I told him I'd lost some money on his recommendations. He was derisive, joking that only a fool takes a newsletter's advice. I asked if he was serious, and he laughed in my face.”

“So you knocked him down.”

“No. I told him to get some manners, to show a little class, but he just kept laughing.” Stefan took in a deep breath. “I pushed him, and he stumbled. He hit his head.”

“Then what happened?”

“I ran to him, and I tripped. That's when the snow globe and egg broke. I could see right away that Jason was dead. I'm not proud of what I did next.” He took in a breath. “I left and went to the library.”

“You pushed him. He fell and hit his head. That's it?”

Stefan looked puzzled. “What else?”

“Did you hit him after he was down?”

“Hit him? What are you talking about?”

Ellis paused, keeping his eyes on Stefan's. “Why did you kill Milner?”

He met Ellis's eyes. “I didn't.”

“Why did you attack Josie Prescott?”

He shook his head. “Attack Josie? I didn't.”

“You need to tell me the whole truth, Stefan. A deal's a deal.”

Stefan finished his water and slid the cup aside. “I have.”

“Who do you think killed Milner?”

“I assume it was a tragic accident.”

“It wasn't. It was murder. The dive team found the weapon, a rock. The ME uses imaging technology to match weapons to wounds.”

Stefan stared at Ellis. “I didn't know.”

“Did you meet him that morning?”

Stefan refilled his cup, then sipped some water.

“We know you called him,” Ellis said.

“I met him, yes.”

“Where?”

“By Bailey Brook. It's deserted, a good place to have a private conversation.”