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“Did it ever angle as a setup to you?”
“It looked straightforward. The rest of the money was a puzzler, but from what the forensic accountants could pull out, he’d been dipping here and there for a couple years. Could’ve washed it a dozen different ways.”
“No records,” Eve prodded. “No second set of books?”
“He’d wiped his electronics. Given every last one of them a virus. We couldn’t do as much back then as we can now.”
“Do you still have them?”
“Jesus, that’s a while—what, fifteen years, give or take. I can’t tell you.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d check, D-S McHone. And given what we can do now, if those electronics are still in evidence, you may find something relevant on them.”
> “I haven’t thought about this case in God knows. I can check. You’re liking Steinburger for Harris.”
“I am. And if he killed my vic, I’m betting he killed yours, too.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“That’s what I said.”
She talked to more cops, made more notes, drank more coffee.
Roarke came in, eyed the coffeepot on her desk. He went into the kitchen, came back with a bottle of water. “Change it up a bit.”
“What, are you the coffee police?”
“If so, you’d be doing life without parole. I’ve a couple of potentially interesting transactions. One a transfer from an account Steinburger has quietly buried under the name B.B. Joel.”
“Big Bang Joel? Really?”
“Not particularly inventive, but B.B. pays his taxes like a good boy. The day of Angelica Caulfield’s death, he transferred twenty thousand into a new account, one opened by Violet Holmes.”
“The day of?”
“Yes. The body wasn’t discovered until the next day.”
“Possible premeditation. Setting up the alibi in advance. Wait a minute.” Eve swiveled back to her machine, calling up files as Roarke continued.
“Holmes was, at that time, an emerging star—young, fresh, primed for her first major starring roll. Steinburger and Big Bang made her a full-fledged star. He and Holmes have been linked together a few times between marriages.”
“She has a boat, moored at the marina where we located Asner’s car. Peabody and McNab found four possible connections between individuals who have boats here and Steinburger and others on the list.”
“Holmes and Steinburger lived together, for a few months, at one time,” Roarke told her. “Apparently remain friends.”
“Friendly enough I bet he knows where she keeps her boat, how to operate it.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. There was also a withdrawal of ten thousand from the B.B. Joel account the day after the ex-wife drowned. No transfer, but then some people will insist on cash in the hand.”
“Fussy. Where does the money in this account come from?”
“Working on that. Going back, small—under five thousand—deposits were made during the first months after the account was opened. Which was some twenty months prior to the partner’s supposed suicide. They graduated to larger amounts, but still under ten. He taps the account regularly. He may see it as a kind of petty cash drawer. Want a bit of something you’d prefer your accountant didn’t see? Tap.”
“To the public, he lives a high life—power, glamour, shiny friends, juicy travel. But it’s a straight one. Maybe B.B. Joel likes the more sinuous.”
She looked over at her boards. “Time to tie it together so it holds enough weight to convince Whitney and the PA.”
“Eve,” he said when she turned to the ’link. “It’s past midnight. Who are you waking up?”
