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If she is responsible for this man’s disappearance, Azriel commented, then she is well and truly out of hell.
A point I hadn’t even thought about. You’d think just once the fates would give us a break, I all but grouched. Just once. Is that too much to ask?
Apparently, he said, with a mental shrug. You’ll get used to it.
I bet I won’t. And they had better get used to me complaining. Azriel might be all stoic and accepting, but I wasn’t about to be. Not if this was the pattern they’d set for the rest of our lives together.
If they’d planned a “rest of our lives” for us, that was. I very much suspected that was still up in the air, especially given Azriel’s nonanswer earlier.
“I can’t tell you whether it was the real Jantz that was reported missing or the fake,” Stane said. “They did a search of his apartment, but there was no evidence of any sort of foul play. Nor has his body been found—and remember, Nadler’s corpse was found pretty quickly after our mad sorceress decided to shed the identity.”
“Is it common for Jantz to disappear like this?”
“No. According to the people who filed the missing persons report, it was extremely unprecedented for him to go away without at least informing one of them. I think we’d be wise to presume death.”
Totally wise. “So how did uncovering Jantz lead you to Bulter?”
“Ha. That’s where it gets interesting,” Stane said. “The apartment Jantz lived in is owned by a private consortium. As is usual with those sorts of companies, there are a couple executives who are responsible for securing targeted business, real estate, or whatever else the consortium might wish to purchase, and who play a central role in negotiations relating to all elements of the deal. It’s the consortium’s name on all legal documents rather than each investor.”
I nodded. “This is sounding very similar to the consortium Nadler set up.”
“That’s because it basically is. We
couldn’t find anything about that consortium because the paper trail led to a company that was listed offshore, and it’s damn near impossible to trace the details of who might be involved with offshore businesses.”
“But you’ve had a breakthrough,” I said, smiling.
“But I’ve had a breakthrough,” he echoed. “A mob called the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists has spent years sifting through millions of leaked documents and recently released an updated report on those involved with offshore accounts, trusts, etcetera. And one of the names in that report just happened to be Harry Bulter. And this,” he added, swinging around to grab a piece of paper from his desk, “is his address in Sydney.”
I glanced at the address and frowned. “He lives in the same building as Jantz?”
“No only the same building, but the same apartment. But, according to those who filed the missing persons report, Jantz lived alone and rarely had visitors.”
“Meaning Jantz was either in cahoots with Lauren, or she was simply using his name and face when it suited her.” I hesitated, my frown deepening. “Did Jantz have any special delivery instructions on his index card?”
“None—though some of the others have ‘pickup only’ noted on them, so that would suggest Jantz’s items were posted.”
“Then we definitely had better go investigate the apartment.” Jantz might be missing and presumed dead, but there could be a faint hope that he—or even Lauren, if he was involved with her in some way—had left something behind that would clue us in as to where Lauren might be.
It is a very faint hope, Azriel commented. Our sorceress has shown no inclination so far to leave things to chance.
Granted, but it’s not like we’ve got many other choices right now. And until we’d cut down the huge number of possibilities when it came to the placement of the final key, there wasn’t much we could do there, either. No matter how much Hunter might threaten or wish otherwise.
“So,” Stane said, “my news has been dealt with. What’s the next delicious puzzle you want me to solve?”
“I’m afraid it’s a rather tedious one.”
“Which is precisely what computers are designed for. Give.”
I hesitated, my gaze sweeping the room. “You have checked for bugs recently, haven’t you?”
He snorted. “Daily, my dear. And I have several of the latest noise screens up and running, just in case the Directorate or some other government department decides to get long-distance nosy about my activities.”
“Good.” Because I wouldn’t put it past Hunter to have this place wired for sound. Of course, I guess she really didn’t need to, given that she still had at least two Cazadors following me about astrally, and at least one of those was still reporting back truthfully. I supposed I just had to hope it was Markel on duty right now, not the other one. I took a deep breath in an effort to calm the tension running through me, then added, “According to the bastard who was my father, the third key lies in the southeast, on a palace whose coat of arms lies the wrong way around.”
Stane blinked. “Well, that’s not exactly an expansive clue, is it?”
“No. I’ve done a search and come up with thousands of possibilities. I need you to pin it down—and, if possible, within the next six hours.”
