Suspicious (On the Run) (15 page)

And call Nigel with an update.

She burrowed her fists deeper in her pockets. No need to rush that call, she decided. It would be best to do a review, a thorough review, of all her notes before she called him.

“Tonight?” Jack said. “I thought you were meeting McKinley tomorrow night.”

“Yes, but he made a comment today as we were parting that I just worked out.” Harrington handed Zoe the map and stabbed at it. “After we go through Lermoos, we want this road here. It will take us to the A12.” He checked his watch. “We should be there in an hour and a half or so.”

“Why the rush?” Jack asked, but he’d pressed the accelerator down, and they sped along the valley floor, circling along the low foothills that skirted the Zugspitze, toward the wide valley on the Austrian side of the mountain.

Harrington hovered between the front and back seats, the lights from the dashboard accentuating the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, creating deeper hollows and crevasses. He looked older and more worn than Zoe had ever seen him, and she wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light or if the strain was getting to him. He said, “This afternoon before we parted, McKinley said he was going to do another run down the mountain, and then he was leaving because he had to be in Ischgl tonight.”

“To cover the charity ski tournament this week,” Zoe said. “Maybe he has to check in tonight.”

“Yes, but the important part is that he said, ‘By tomorrow evening, I’ll have more ice. Really flawless stuff.’ ” Harrington shook his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the map as he seemed to be reliving the moment. “I thought it was the typical salesman’s pitch—you know, buy more from me. At the time, I discounted it, but now that I know the Flawless Set has been stolen.” He frowned. “McKinley had put a little more emphasis on that word flawless. I think he was telling me that he would have the Flawless Set. I could be wrong, but…”

“
By
tomorrow?” Zoe asked. “Were those his exact words?”

“Yes.”

“So he doesn’t have it now, but he will have it tomorrow. Someone could be bringing the Flawless Set to him either tonight or tomorrow,” Zoe said.

“It’s thin,” Jack said.

“I know,” Harrington replied.

“But if there’s the slightest chance…” Zoe said. “We have to try to find McKinley. We can shadow him, like we were doing to you, Harrington.” She threw him a contrite glance.

“No need to apologize.”

“Which way?” Jack asked. They’d traveled through the Lermoos valley, passed the curved church tower and the stucco buildings with their murals and snow covered roofs.

“Left at the fork,” Zoe said, and it wasn’t long before they merged onto the Autobahn.

“I can’t believe I didn’t make that connection earlier.” Harrington had leaned back, and his face was now in shadow. Zoe could tell he was irritated with himself.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Zoe said. “At the time, you didn’t know the Flawless Set had been stolen.”

“And when we told you, you’d just plowed into a tree trunk,” Jack added. “It’s no wonder you didn’t make the connection right away. You were in shock.”

“Still no excuse. We lost valuable time going back to the hotel.”

“Where we discovered that the police are a lot closer than we thought,” Zoe said.

“That’s good info. We can use that,” Jack said, countering Zoe’s gloomy tone.

“Seems like straightforward bad news to me,” Zoe said. “How can it be useful?”

“Well, if the police are on our trail, we can lead them right to McKinley.”

“Let them think they’re catching us, but in reality, they’ll be catching McKinley,” Zoe said slowly.

“He will have the rest of the jewels from the Rowan House robbery the next time we meet,” Harrington said. “That was our agreement. The peacock brooch today—the ruby and diamond bracelet and the pink diamond ring tomorrow.”

“Even better if we can somehow lead them to McKinley and whoever is handing over the Flawless Set. If they’re meeting, that should be possible.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Harrington said. “I don’t like it.”

“You’re an insurance man. Risk averse,” Jack said with a flicker of a smile. “I don’t see we’ve got any other choice.”

“Unfortunately, I agree,” Harrington said. “There is one way to draw the police to McKinley at exactly the right moment. If I contact the police and tell them I’m willing to turn myself in, I’m sure they would be interested. If I coordinate so that they pick me up when I’m with McKinley that should insure that McKinley would be taken into custody as well.” There were a few seconds of silence in the car. Zoe didn’t like the images flashing through her mind—Harrington in handcuffs, accusations, criminal charges.

“It might take a while, but everything would be sorted out. I’d be cleared…eventually.”

“Now that is a risky proposition,” Jack said.

Zoe said. “Surely there’s another way?”

“I’m not extremely enthusiastic about it, myself,” Harrington said, but his expression was determined.

“If we can’t find another way, we have to make sure that McKinley and his… accomplice are in possession of the jewels when the police show up, not us.” Zoe said. “If we can find out who has been feeding McKinley the jewels, then I’m sure the police will be able to find some evidence of the thefts. Our problem is that they didn’t seem to want to look beyond us for suspects. Do you still think Ms. Davray and Carlo are the best suspects?”

“There is no one else,” Harrington said with a shake of his head. “No one else in the company had access to the information that was used to commit the earlier robberies.”

“No one?” Jack pressed. “A temporary employee? A consultant?”

“No, we haven’t had a consultant in the London office, and we don’t use temps—that’s one of Mr. Millbank’s directives. Has to do with security. We use a hiring firm when we have an opening. They screen the applicants and send out several qualified candidates, then we make the choice from there.”

“What about former employees? Any sudden resignations or transfers?”

Harrington stared out the window, studying the banks of snow that were dimly visible in the moonlight. “No, no one like that either.”

“What about new employees?” Jack asked.

Harrington didn’t need even a moment to consider that question and replied instantly. “No, no one of that level has been hired recently. It’s a small group of people—Mrs. Davray, Carlo, and me—with access to the sensitive documents.”

Zoe turned slowly to the backseat, working through a thought that had struck her. “What about a new low-level employee who works for someone high-level?”

Harrington stared at her a moment. “You don’t mean—”

“If you want to know what’s going on in a business, ask the boss’s secretary or assistant, right?”

He collapsed back against the seat. “It is possible…yes, it is very possible.”

Jack looked away from the road to Zoe. “The assistant? The flustered one?”

Zoe said, “She could have picked up all sorts of information working in your office. Does she have access to your computer? Your files?”

“Of course. An assistant’s not much help, otherwise.”

“So she could delete your email about your vacation, causing you to be the center of the speculation,” Jack said. “What about access to the sensitive information related to the thefts?”

“She wouldn’t be authorized to view that information, but if she logged in as me, she’d have access. Yes, it fits. The first theft occurred after she came to work.”

Zoe shifted in her seat, turning fully to the backseat as she described the moment when she returned Amy’s forgotten airline tickets to her in the taxi. “That expression, for half a second was so different from the usual confused awkwardness. That’s what bothered me,” Zoe said to Jack. “She looked suspicious and guarded, and…I don’t know how to describe it. Tough, I guess.”

“That’s not how she looked at the exhibit’s opening night,” Jack said.

“Not words I would use to describe her, either,” Harrington said. “Tentative. Anxious. Bit ham-fisted, too. Always dropping things—that’s how she presented herself at the office.”

“So she would have known about the plaque?” Zoe asked.

“I had her place the order,” Harrington said. “She could have ordered a second one and had it modified to hold the jewels.”

Silence descended for a few moments, and Zoe almost felt Harrington adjusting to this new perspective.

“My God! If she did it, she had me completely fooled. I wonder if that nervous clumsiness was an act. I felt sorry for her and went easy on her,” he said, his tone outraged. “When I checked alibis, she said she was visiting her mum in East Anglia, and I took her word for it. I should have checked myself.”

Harrington massaged his forehead. “Incredibly foolish on my part. Not only did I overlook a prime suspect because of her rank in the company, I made extra allowances for her because she seemed so inept.”

“An act I’m sure she cultivated to gain your sympathy,” Zoe said

“We don’t have any proof it was her,” Jack said. “There is still the possibility it was Melissa Davray or Carlo Goccetto.”

“Yes,” Harrington agreed faintly, but he sounded doubtful. After a moment, with his gaze on the window, he said, “I’d better jettison that brooch as soon as we’re in Ischgl.”

“You’re not going to…throw it away, are you?” Zoe asked.

“No, I was thinking of mailing it to the board of directors at the London office. Anonymously, of course. It will take a few days to arrive, and by then, we’ll hopefully have things sorted out on this end.”

Zoe said, “When you use that fatalistic tone, it sounds as if you think the opposite will happen.”

“I’m afraid the odds of everything working out well for us are extremely low,” Harrington said.

“There you go again with the odds and the risk,” Jack said.

“Can’t help it, I’m afraid.”

Zoe smiled at him over the seat. “Occupational hazard?”

Harrington smiled back. “Undeniably.”

“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, with either worry or our plans,” Jack said. “First, we have to find McKinley.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that will be too hard,” Zoe said.

***

There was no mistaking the town of Ischgl. Unlike the other alpine towns they’d passed through, which were winding down for the night with quiet streets, lights blazed from Ischgl, cutting through the night. Nestled in a valley, it glowed and sparkled like a string of diamonds. Portions of the mountain were lit for night skiing and tobogganing, while the downtown area was busy with pedestrians. As they cruised through the streets, Jack said, “Not exactly a sleepy alpine village, is it?”

The buildings had the typical Alpine architecture—heavy wooden balconies and white stucco exteriors with murals aplenty, but there was an unmistakable tinge of glitz and glamor layered heavily on top of the mountain charm.

“No,” Zoe said, “none of the other villages we’ve seen had high-end jewelry stores or quite so many bars.”

“I believe it is known as a party town,” Harrington said.

“Yep, the Kardashians would be right at home here,” Zoe said.

They found a hostel on the outskirts of Ischgl that accepted cash from Harrington—he insisted on paying, saying he had plenty of cash. Jack had fought him on it, but Harrington had the last word. “I’m the one who dragged you into this, the least I can do is cover our lodging.”

Their room had two sets of bunk beds, a pine armoire, and a sink. The bathroom was down the hall.

“Not exactly the Savoy, but no bed bugs,” Harrington said as he examined the puffy duvet and pillow.

“We’re lucky to get it,” Jack said. “The desk clerk said almost every hotel room is sold out for the ski tournament.”

Zoe claimed an upper bunk and went right to work, using the hostel’s free Wi-Fi. “Hopefully we won’t be in the room much.” She typed in a search, clicked on a result, and leaned back in satisfaction. “There. McKinley’s Twitter feed. I knew he’d have one, and he updates frequently.”

“How helpful,” Jack said.

“Isn’t it?” Zoe scrolled through his recent tweets. “He posted all day yesterday about skiing in Garmisch. His last tweet today says, ‘Just arrived in beautiful Ischgl. Can’t wait to sample the nightlife!’ That was twenty minutes ago. It looks like he rarely goes over an hour during the day without tweeting, so I bet he’ll post something soon. In the meantime, I can do some other searches…” Zoe’s voice trailed off as she typed, scanning websites for information about McKinley’s role in the ski tournament. She vaguely heard Jack and Harrington discussing the need for more cell phones.

“Well, look at this.” She turned the laptop around so they could see the picture, an action shot of a couple of guys running across a green field.

Harrington said, “Rugby. Amateur league, by the look of the uniform.” He leaned closer and pointed to the player sprinting across the turf with the ball gripped to his side. “That’s McKinley.”

“Yes, it is,” Zoe said. “See anyone else familiar?”

Jack reached around Harrington and touched the screen. “In the background, one of the spectators…is that Amy?”

Zoe smiled. “Yes, I think so. I tried to zoom in, but it gets too blurry to distinguish any features.”

“Where did you find this?” Harrington asked.

“On a tabloid magazine’s website. Since he wasn’t tweeting, I decided to check the web, see what else I could find. It’s from a profile the tabloid ran about him when he became host of the
Celebrity Insider
. The caption says he played on an amateur rugby team in his teens.”

Zoe scrolled through the comments on the picture. “One of the comments is from ‘AmyB.’ She congratulates McKinley on doing better in life than he did in rugby then,” Zoe’s voice quickened. “She linked to her Twitter account. Oh, she posted a photo.” Zoe clicked and another photo opened.

McKinley stood in the middle of this picture, his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, his shirt streaked with grass stains, and his arm draped over Amy’s shoulder. Her expression was a cocky, lopsided grin that was at odds with the timid, bumbling persona Zoe had encountered in Rome.

“She’s younger,” Jack said, “but that is definitely her.”

“And the other person?” Harrington asked, indicating the young man on McKinley’s other side. He wore the same uniform, but his looked crisp and clean. Not a grass stain in sight.