“Will has some meetings he has to attend.” She had a posh accent, but Jane couldn’t place it. “I’m sorry, Detective, Agent. But we’re going to have to cut short this interview. Please direct all further questions to our attorney. I’ll see that he sends you his contact information.”
She led her husband from the room, and an older man in a nice suit entered the study to escort them out.
Once back at the car, Jane paused, lost in thought.
“What the hell was that all about?” Ray growled.
She shook her head. “How much do you want to bet they call and warn the others we’re coming? We’ll be lucky to get in the front door of the next three places.”
“I don’t want to take that bet. But it might not be a bad idea to put a unit on the house and see who comes for a visit.”
“Great minds think alike.” She grimly conceded they could do no more with the Malks.
Unfortunately, they were also right about the remainder of their list. It took the rest of the day into the evening.
No one would let them in, directing their inquiries to the business end of attorney double speak through cell phones.
Before they parted, Ray said what sat at the forefront of Jane’s thoughts. “I wonder which one of them will be next.”
Chapter 17
An Introspective
In an upscale homein a quiet area of Seattle, Victor let himself into the house without needing a key. His cousin still refused to lock up after himself, of the mindset that no one could ever muster the temerity to invadetheirspace.
Victor knew that leaving a home unlocked invited trouble. Even welcomed it.
Then again, perhaps that was what Casimir wanted. A new challenge to take his mind from the boring acquisitions they’d been ordered to make.
With a sigh, Victor went in search of what he considered the human machine that made the organization function as well as it did.
He found Casimir in front of the computer in the study. Rich mahogany and hand-carved antique bookcases matched the regal desk and went well with the navy-blue paint darkening the room. The antique books on the shelves mingled with treatises on war, financial tactics, and historical tomes about battles lost and won.
Frankly, Victor found it all incredibly boring. He’d tried to read one of the tedious volumes while waiting on his cousin to finish business a few days ago. Fortunately, the house had several televisionswith all sorts of streaming and satellite programming, even several in his native language, which he found delightful.
He heard swearing and raised voices through the speakerphone, none of which belonged to Casimir. His cousin never swore, rarely raised his voice, and never seemed to get upset. He often grew irritated, mostly with Victor, but he never let it show except for the occasional sharpness in his tone.
Victor did his best to please Casimir. But sometimes circumstances couldn’t be avoided.
“I told you to keep a low profile, didn’t I?” The deep voice on the other end of the line sounded threatening. It made Victor uncomfortable. Something about that presence lingered long after communication with him ended.
“We have the information we need,” Casimir said calmly. “How we get it isn’t a big deal.”
“Itisa big deal. The FBI and police are suddenly asking all kinds of questions about the Collective.”
“That was going to happen eventually.”
“Eventually.Not now! We could have flown under the radar longer if your psychotic cousin hadn’t gotten his rocks off slicing and dicing through whole families.”
“But not the dogs,” Victor added—unhelpfully, if his cousin’s flat expression was anything to go by. “They always say, do not kill the dog. So I do not.”
“I pay you to make problems go away,” the voice seethed. “Not to cause them.”
Casimir held up a finger when Victor would have responded.
Victor remained quiet.
Casimir sighed. “What’s done is done.”
