Hand of Fate (13 page)

"Yeah, it would probably be easier figuring out who he didn't tick off." Nicole stifled a yawn. "We found two threats in his desk." She handed Allison two printouts. "This one with the sketch of the noose is from a magazine article that mentioned a number of controversial things Jim did."

Allison looked at the second piece of paper, feeling a pang as sh
e r
emembered reading about the sad case. "'You killed Brooke. Now you need to die too,'" she read aloud. "Well, that's pretty clear. Just like Cassidy said, we need to look at Brooke Gardner's family and friends. And given that horrible commercial that's been running nonstop, Quentin Glover too. And that's probably only the beginning. I've ordered six months' worth of transcripts of the show so that we can look for other people he might have ticked off."

"You can listen to them all online," Nicole said. "I already checked."

"Yeah, but I'd have to do that in real time. It's too hard to jump ahead with a recording. Whereas on paper, it's a lot easier to skip over the parts that don't have any bearing."

Nicole made a face. "Do you have any idea how many people we could end up having to investigate? The killer could be an individual or a business owner or a politician Fate slammed on air. That's already a pretty big group. Then you add in people who might have had issues with his success, like rivals, stalkers, coworkers, anyone he climbed over on his way up."

Allison said, "And there's all the usual suspects: family, friends, lovers, and enemies." As a starting point with Jim, as well as every suspect in his murder, the FBI would check the basics: the phone book for numbers and addresses, public utilities records to find out who paid the bills and how often, Department of Motor Vehicles for driver's license data and registration records, and National Crime Information Center indices for prior convictions. With such a wide circle of suspects, this alone would mean an incredible amount of work. Allison added,"Plus there's Fate's NOD award. I'll bet that really torqued some people."

"Yeah, in retrospect maybe it wasn't such a good idea that he taunted the people who were the most angry at him." Nicole stifle
d a
nother yawn. "For tomorrow, I've lined up the use of the radio station's three conference rooms. I figure you and I will take the people who worked closest with Jim, and I've got two teams to take the rest."

"You look like you didn't get any sleep," Allison said sympathetically. "Maybe we should have dinner with Cassidy on another night."

"No. We need to talk to her. But yeah, I am pretty tired. It was everything that happened yesterday. You know what it was like. Everyone in that stairwell really started believing that we were all going to die, and it wasn't pretty. I ended up trying to shelter in place with Mrs. Lofland--that older lady from the jury pool--on the seventh floor of the courthouse. It was Leif who tracked us down and told us things were okay. I was so glad to see him that I actually gave him a hug."

"Really?" She kept her tone neutral. Nicole rarely talked about her personal life, and Allison didn't want to scare her off by seeming too interested.

Allison, Nicole, and Cassidy had attended the same high school, but they hadn't been close and they hadn't kept in touch. By the time they got reacquainted at their tenth reunion, Nicole had a daughter, Makayla. No father was ever mentioned--and Nicole never, ever dated. Allison just figured that the father had been bad news.

Nicole shook her head. "I shouldn't encourage him. My life is too complicated. There's no room in it for a man. I've tried to make that clear, but Leif says he's happy to just be friends. But you know that when a guy says that, he doesn't really mean it."

"Well, I guess there are two possibilities. If Leif really does mean it, then you're okay. But say you're right," Allison ventured. She hoped she wasn't pushing Nic too far. "Say he doesn't mean it. Leif's a good man and a good agent. And he just might be good for you too."

It was always a pleasure to work with Leif. There was a solidity to him that was calming. And it was clear that those blue eyes of his missed nothing.

"But I don't need a man," Nicole answered. "I don't need anyone."

Chapter
20

Willamette Villas Condominiums

While Nic was brainstorming suspects with Allison, her cell rang. At the sound of Leif's voice in her ear, telling her that they now had a search warrant for Fate's apartment, her cheeks heated up. Her body was too eager to betray her.

After promising to call Allison if anything important turned up in the search, Nic gathered with the rest of the ERT in the FBI's parking garage.

At Fate's condominium building, they met the building manager and took the elevator to the twentieth floor.

Leif let out a long, low whistle when the manager unlocked the door and swung it open. "I think I went into the wrong line of work."

Nic felt a smile rise to her lips, and then quickly let it drop. She didn't want anyone on the team guessing anything about her feelings.

Fate's living room ran the width of the building. The wall facing the river was nothing but windows. Nic checked out the view. She could see a half dozen of Portland's bridges, as well as the dark, gray waters of the Willamette itself.

The team took a quick tour. It was beautiful, if not to Nic's taste. It looked like an old, rich white guy's place, all leather and gleaming dark wood and Oriental carpets. As a concession to the modern age
,
the living room also held an expensive-looking sound system and a huge flat-screen TV. The kitchen had a sharper edge to it. Everything was shiny stainless steel, down to the countertops, and so clean you could have performed surgery in it, using one of the ranks of Wiisthof knives.

Rod opened the refrigerator, and Nic peered over his shoulder. The door held capers, gherkins, cocktail onions, and Thai chili sauce. On the shelves were three lemons, bottles of seltzer and tonic, five take-out cartons, and a pint of half-and-half that was bulging suspiciously.

The side-by-side freezer was equally empty, containing only a bottle of Grey Goose vodka, a stack of frozen entrees from Whole Foods, and a half-dozen bags of Jamaican Blue coffee beans.

"I'm surprised he doesn't have those coffee beans that are excreted by meerkats or whatever," Heath said. "Supposed to be the best in the world. They say it lends them a unique flavor." He smacked his lips.

Nic kept her face impassive.

Leif gave them their assignments, and they spread out. He took the bedroom, often ground zero for any investigation, the inner sanctum, where the best secrets were concealed. Nic got Fate's office, Heath the dining and living rooms, Karl the library, and Rod the bathroom.

Just as they had in Fate's office, Nic boxed the computer up for the electronic forensics lab. On the desk were two microphones and a couple of sets of headphones that she had to disconnect from the computer.

Next she took a quick run through Fate's three-drawer oak filing cabinet, but there was nothing that stood out. Tax returns, clippings about himself, product manuals, bank statements. No cards, no photos. No love letters or hate mail either, but these days, both of those would probably be on the computer. Anything that seemed like it might need closer scrutiny went into lidded cardboard file boxes for closer review.

Nic thought of something and looked around the walls. They were decorated with a couple of large art photographs, one a close-up of peeling bark and another of a sunset turning the ocean pink. But what had caught her eye was something that wasn't there. Here there was no brag wall. No trophies. No visible signs--other than every possession being top-of-the-line--of Fate's success.

In the desk, Nic hit pay dirt. She walked into the bedroom to show it to Leif, who was checking underneath a drawer to make sure nothing had been taped there.

As she waited for him to straighten up, she noticed the strong V of his back. Even through his jacket, she could see the shape of his shoulders. To distract herself, she looked closer at the book that lay facedown on the bedside table. It was about the Civil War. When Jim Fate had set that book aside, he hadn't known that he would never pick it up again. One day she might be just going about her business, leaving things unfinished, but planning to pick them up again--and then she would suddenly be gone. And in Nic's view, dead was dead. Fate wasn't a soul who might be going to heaven or hell. He wasn't a ghost, and he hadn't been reborn as a dragonfly or a dog. He was just gone.

It was a hard reality to look in the eye, and Nic was glad when Leif got to his feet and said, "What have you got?"

"Look at this." Nic held out the envelope she had found in Fate's desk drawer. The contents and the envelope had been printed on a computer. She was nostalgic for the time when each typewriter left its own unique marks on a piece of paper, but those days had already been dying out even before she joined the Bureau.

Leif slid out the piece of paper inside and read it aloud.

"'I know where you live. I know what you look like. You're going to pay for what you've done.-- Leif looked more closely at the envelope.

"And whoever sent this showed him that they meant it. Because this was mailed to his home address." He slipped it into an evidence bag, and Nic went back to finish the office.

When they had finished their search, Leif gathered the ERT for a quick rundown of what they had found. It wasn't much. Leif had discovered a woman's earring underneath the bed. Hammered silver, it looked handmade, not mass-produced. It was shaped like a Chinese character.

Rod gave voice to a thought that was just coming clear in Nic's mind. "Could it be Japanese?"

Leif said, "You thinking of Victoria Hanawa? I'll ask Jun if he knows what language it is."

Heath laughed. "Maybe it will turn out like all those people who think they're getting tattooed with the character for wisdom in Chinese, and it turns out to be the character for idiot."

"How about the living and dining room?" Leif asked. "Did you find anything in there?"

"Just tens of thousands of dollars of equipment, all of it topnotch. He had a couple hundred DVDs. No porn. Everything from old John Wayne movies to the latest thrillers. Nearly all of them feature one man up against the odds and fighting for justice."

It was an interesting insight, reminding Nic that even Heath occasionally had something useful to say.

Rod said, "There wasn't much of interest in the bathroom. The only drugs had prescription labels on them. It looks like Fate had high blood pressure and high cholesterol. Oh, and in one of the drawers I found a box of condoms. A few of them were gone."

Karl said, "Lots of books, but that's about it."

A frown creased Leif's face. "This whole place is more conspicuous for what it doesn't have than for what it does. No photos of famil
y o
r friends. No cards. And it's all very clean. Like it's going to be photographed for a magazine shoot. It feels ... impersonal."

"It feels lonely," Nic said quietly, and Leif shot her a surprised look. She had kind of surprised herself.

"Maybe this was the place where he went to retreat from the world," Karl said.

"Maybe," Nic agreed. But part of her wondered if Jim had felt more at home sitting behind his mike and watching the phone lines light up, knowing that thousands of people were hanging on his every word.

When the team left, an older woman with hair dyed a purple-black was standing in the hallway. All of her clothes were shades of lavender, violet, and magenta. She eyed them with interest.

"Hello, officers. Are you here about my erstwhile neighbor, Mr. Fate?"

"Yes, ma'am," Leif said.

"I wanted to impart to you that I saw something the morning that Mr. Fate was killed. Or rather, I saw someone."

"What did you see?"

She paused, obviously enjoying the fact that she had the team's full attention.

"I saw a woman depart his apartment."

Leif's voice sharpened. "Did she leave with him?"

"He had left four hours prior. This young woman looked like those movie stars you see in the tabloids. The ones who are pretending that they don't want anyone to recognize them."

"What do you mean?"

"She had a black coat, blonde hair, and big, black sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses in Oregon in February? Indoors, no less."

"Have you seen her before?" Nic asked.

She started to shake her head, and then hesitated. "Well, tha
t m
ight not be true. Something about her was familiar. I know I haven't seen her in this building before. But it seems to me that I have seen her. Maybe at church or at the supermarket or at the Multnomah Athletic Club."

"Would you recognize her if you saw her again?" Leif asked. "I might."

"You said you haven't seen her leave Jim's condo before," Nic said, thinking of the condoms and the woman's earring. "But have you seen other women leave here before?"

She gave them a coy look. "A few. Not as many as you might speculate."

Nic thought of half-Japanese Victoria Hanawa. "And were they all blonde? All white?"

Jim's neighbor shook her head. "Mr. Fate," she said, "had eclecti
c t
astes!'