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"But you didn't."

"No."

"Would anyone else?"

"Know about any problems? It's possible. Several executives might be aware if they existed. Possibly Lincoln might know about it because of his relationship with Evan's father. But, again, if I didn't know about a problem, it didn't exist."

"Lincoln Berdon? That's who you were referring to?"

"Yes."

"He's the CEO."

"That's right."

"He very friendly with Evan's father?"

"Yes. H. R. was part of this firm for a while."

"Why'd he leave?"

"H. R.? Because he went back into government. Happens, you know. He made his money here and went back to public service."

"Why didn't he come back here when he left public service?"

"You'd have to ask him. But if I had to guess, I'd say he just didn't want to work as hard. He'd had a heart attack, and even though his job here was fairly cushy, it was still work. A lot of meetings, a lot of socializing. Plus, Evan had started Ascension by then and I think H. R. wanted to help him out, lend his presence over there. Now, I really should-"

"Just another minute or so. This is very helpful. What does that mean, exactly? Lend his presence?"

"It's not a secret. People like H. R. hook up with companies like ours or Evan's because of their Rolodex. H. R.'s international relationships are priceless. Like the Bushes with the Saudis. Bush One was like a member of the royal family, and it paid off for them big-time. H. R. is as tight as it's possible to be with the Chinese, and since they're taking over the whole goddamn world, it's a valuable connection."

"How valuable?"

"Does his father's role at Rockworth have anything to do with Evan's murder?" French asked.

"Probably not. I'm just trying to get the big picture. Anytime this kind of money is involved, it's possible there's some connection."

"I'm not going to get into specifics, but H. R.'s role was essential to our doing business over there. We had access to investment opportunities in China we might not have normally had access to. Everything from financial markets to car manufacturers."

"Chinese cars?"

"Get used to it. The wave of the future. Chinese cars, Chinese televisions, Chinese everything. We're steering a lot of money their way."

"Makes sense. I like their food, why wouldn't I like their cars?"

The possibility that Justin might now discuss different types of egg rolls finally seemed to exhaust Daniel French's goodwill. Justin could see the helpful light go out of his eyes.

"What are the chances of my talking to Lincoln Berdon?" Justin asked.

"I doubt he's going to be of much help. He also may be the busiest man on the planet, so good luck getting in there."

"He's not around now, by any chance, is he?"

"He's in London today."

"How about Ellis? He in London, too?"

"No, Ellis is domestic only."

"Then where do I find him?"

There was a moment of silence from Daniel French. He looked down at his shoes, uncomfortable, before twisting his neck a bit to the side and saying, "He's not in today."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"Sick?"

"I don't know," French said quietly. "He didn't come in today."

"Is that standard operating salesman procedure? To not come in on Fridays?"

"Sometimes," French said. "During the summer."

"And he doesn't need to tell anyone?"

"He told his secretary that he wouldn't be reachable today."

"Dan," Justin said slowly, "the guy is the key contact in your company for someone who was murdered last night, and you didn't think it was worth mentioning until now that he's missing?"

"He's not exactly missing. He's probably at a meeting somewhere."

"How about his assistant? Would she know what meeting he's at?"

"I checked with her before you got here. I assumed you'd want to speak to Ellis."

"And?"

French sighed quietly. "And she doesn't know where he is, either."

"Can I ask you a question, Dan?"

French was looking down at his shoes again. "Yes."

"Did you Google me before we met? Or have your people check me out?"

"Yes."

"Find some pretty interesting stuff, did you?"

"Yes, we did."

"Found some fairly violent episodes in my past?"

"Yes."

"I hope you don't think this is out of line," Justin said quietly, "because you've been very nice and very helpful and I appreciate it. But you should have paid more attention to your research, because I'm not someone to fuck with and you just fucked with me. I'm not sure why and it doesn't really matter. But my advice is don't do it again." He smiled brightly. "Was that out of line?"

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Daniel French said.

"You can tell me who Ellis St. John's assistant is and you can take me to her. And then get the fuck out of my way."

They were given a small room down the hall from the big conference room. Ellis St. John's assistant was an attractive if somewhat husky young woman named Belinda Lambert. She had large, round, brown eyes that seemed to be pleading for someone to take her away from all this. Anywhere. Although preferably anywhere that included a bedroom. Justin didn't take the plea personally. He had a feeling that request had been made many times before.

Belinda wasn't overly helpful once Justin made it clear he wasn't taking her anywhere, although she was polite and her concern about her boss seemed genuine. When Justin had ascertained that she really didn't have any idea where Ellis St. John might be-she'd tried calling his cell phone several times as well as his apartment and had e-mailed his BlackBerry, all to no avail-he tried to get her talking about St. John in general terms. She was evasive about delving into his personal habits. She did say that she was sure he wouldn't stay away too long because of his two cats.

"He loves those cats," she told him. "Binky and Esther, that's their names. I mean, you wouldn't believe the way he treats them. Buys them presents and cooks for them. It's kind of crazy. But sweet, too, don't you think?" He agreed it was very sweet, and when he asked who fed them when he was away, she said, "I do. They don't like me as much, though. I'm more of a people person than an animal person. But I'll feed them tonight and for the weekend. Well, I guess I'll feed 'em as long as he's away."

"You know he won't be home this weekend?"

"That's what he said. That I wouldn't be able to reach him today and he'd be gone all weekend."

"When he told you this, did he sound upset?"

She thought for a moment. She had on a strange reddish-purple lipstick and her thought process involved licking the lipstick with her tongue and then leaving smudges of it on her white, white teeth. "No," she said. "I'd say he sounded kind of happy. You know, excited. I got the feeling it was a hot date or something."

"Does Ellis have a car?"

"No," she said. "You know, I told him he should, I mean he goes away all the time on weekends. Fire Island, the Hamptons, Bucks County. He says he'd rather rent."

"Do you make his reservation for him when he rents?"

"I don't have to," she explained. "At least during the summer. He has a standing reservation at Hertz on Thursdays. The one that's just a couple of blocks from here. If he doesn't want a car, then I cancel the day before."

"Did you cancel on Wednesday?"

"No. So I guess he picked it up."

"You have his cell phone number, Belinda?"

She nodded and rattled off the number. He picked up an office phone and dialed it. After several rings, a recorded message came on, a man's voice saying, "You've reached Ellis St. John. I'm not available, but if you leave a message I'll call you back as soon as possible." When Justin heard the tone, he said, "Ellis, this is Justin Westwood, I'm chief of police for East End Harbor in Long Island. Please call me as soon as you get this message. It's very important." He gave his home number and his cell number, and hung up. And he made a note of St. John's cell number.