Leona's head drooped and her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, "Yes, you're right. You're astoundingly offensive, but you're right."
Silverbush allowed a faint gloat of a smile to cross his lips, then pursed them and looked at Justin. "Same goes for you, too. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, cowboy, we live in a political world. I know you think you make it up as you go along, but you live by the rules, same as the rest of us. Maybe you bend 'em more than most, but you've built up a life here. Got a nice little house; I haven't been able to find too many friends but I'm sure you got one or two; got the occasional girlfriend. And you took this job, which I know you didn't have to do, so it must mean something to you. You care about what you do; you care about the people in this town; you care about the results you get. In this instance, I care about the results you're going to get, too. We got the same goal-make everything come out all right so our happy little lives just keep rollin' along. So, you see, we're not all that different, you and me."
Justin didn't hang his head and his voice wasn't close to a whisper when he said, "You'll be good on the stump when you run for governor one of these days. But what is it you actually want from me?"
"I want you to work with me. I want you to work with my men. I want full cooperation. I don't want you going off half-cocked, and I don't want you to talk to anyone in the media."
"Anything else?"
"Yeah. I don't want you messing around in places you shouldn't be messing around in."
"Any specific places you have in mind?"
"H. R. Harmon."
"He's kind of relevant to the investigation, don't you think?"
"Obviously, he might be helpful. It remains to be seen just how much."
"But you'll be doing the seeing."
"That's right. I think a slightly more delicate touch than yours is required here."
Justin didn't answer immediately, not that Silverbush was looking for an answer. He was merely looking for acquiescence, which Justin gave him when all he said was "Okay."
"Good." Silverbush smiled at them both now. He stood as if waiting for them to leave.
"Can I just point out one thing?" Justin asked.
"Of course."
"You're in my office. You're the one who's actually got to make the graceful exit."
Silverbush laughed. It was almost an affectionate laugh-almost, but not quite. Justin handed him his preliminary report when the DA's laughter stopped. "You might want to read this sooner rather than later."
"I'm not big on reading. I'm big on action."
"Well," Justin said, "as you made clear, you're the boss." He nodded toward the report now in Silverbush's hand. "All I can do is tell you what I know and make my recommendation."
"Would you like my recommendation?" Silverbush asked. "Don't fuck up. Or I'll have your balls for breakfast."
"If the whole governor thing doesn't work out, try football coach," Justin said. "You've got that inspirational touch."
Silverbush laughed once more, this time with genuine good feeling, and left the East End Harbor mayor and chief of police alone in the office.
"Charmer, isn't he?" Leona said.
"You might want to read my report," Justin said, handing her another copy, "before Mr. Charm does."
"Something you didn't mention just now, Jay?"
"Hey," Justin said, "I'm not big on mentioning. I'm big on action." And then he said, "But read it."
9
The Rockworth and Williams offices were on the fifty-sixth floor of the World Financial Building. The expansive windows in the even more expansive lobby looked out, on this remarkably clear day, over what seemed to be the entire world. Directly east was Ground Zero, its presence still jarring. Looking north you could see almost all of Manhattan-Tribeca, midtown, Central Park, all the way up to Harlem, and even the distant specks of traffic inching along the Triborough Bridge. The view west took in the Hudson River and well into New Jersey. Looking south at the smooth expanse of the Upper Bay, you stared down at the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. Justin had the feeling that if he had a better sense of geography and knew which way to look, and if his vision were substantially better, he'd have a decent shot at viewing the jutting shores of Cornwall all the way across the ocean.
He was kept waiting for twenty-seven minutes, three minutes less than he'd expected. He could have barged in, flashing his badge, but he decided to keep this friendly. If the secretary had exceeded his thirty-minute waiting limit, however, his friendly demeanor would have gone out the fifty-sixth-floor window. Luckily for all concerned, she came in the nick of time to lead him back to Daniel French, the Rockworth executive who'd been picked to talk to him.
"I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to be able to tell you," French told Justin. They were sitting in a conference room, which Justin figured was roughly the square footage of his house in East End Harbor. French offered water-cold or room temperature, which Justin declined; coffee, which Justin accepted, black. French had water. Cold.
"I'm gathering any information that might be helpful in the investigation," Justin explained. "I'm looking for help so I can find out who killed Evan Harmon."
"I still can't believe this happened," French said. "You never think… well… It's just so shocking."
"Shocking because Evan didn't have any enemies?"
"Everybody in our business has enemies. I'm sure Evan had his share. No, I meant shocking because people go broke all the time in our business, or people wind up in prison because they embezzle funds. People don't get murdered."
"Sometimes murder can even reach such rarefied air," Justin said.
"I'm not being some kind of prima donna asshole," French said. "I know it happens. It's just never happened to anyone I know. Or anyone quite so rarefied as Evan."
"How well did you know him?"
"Fairly well. We were approximately the same age; we moved in somewhat the same circles, at least professionally."
"Not socially?"
"No, not really. I mean, I'd see him around. At clubs or at a tennis match or something like that. But mostly we knew each other through business."
"I'd like a list of the people here who dealt with him regularly."
"Almost everybody on a certain level dealt with Evan. He was a player. I can get you the list, but it'll be fairly long and I don't know how helpful."
"You don't have anyone who's primarily assigned to Ascension?"
"As I said, we have a few-"
"How about Ellis St. John?"
Dan French was good. He barely missed a beat. "Ellis certainly spends a lot of his time on the Ascension account. He probably could be-"
"He was Evan's primary broker, wasn't he?"
"He is Ascension's primary broker, not Evan's. He's been one of our main connections to people there for the past three or four years."
"One of?"
"Yes. Although I suppose he would be considered the main-"
"If he was the main contact, why did so many other people here need to be in touch with Evan? Or with other people at Ascension?"
"Because we have a lot of different departments, and sometimes it's easier for people to simply talk directly to the person who can best address a specific need. If Ascension wants some research done on a particular type of investment, they deal with someone in that department. Ellis might coordinate it but not always."
"Is that Ellis's main job, coordinating?"
"No. It's just a by-product of his link to Ascension. And to other companies, by the way. Ascension's hardly his only account."
"What exactly is his link to Ascension? Can you define it?"
"I suppose. It's not as if it's a unique job-it's fairly standard for any company of our size. As I said, R and W is the primary broker for quite a few funds."