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“We?” Arthur scoffed.
Her sock was practically tender, but he playfully grabbed his arm as if she’d injured him. “Stop being a baby. Now…I happen to have a sound mind. I plan to have a role on this unit as well. Men like Malcolm should not wield power.”
Her husband kissed her cheek. “We’ll find you a task. Gads, I hope I can manage this big of a team. I haven’t done a story like this since the bail bonds scandal in the 1980s.”
“Which is why I asked someone with impeccable management skills to come and help,” Quinn announced, checking his phone. “She’s arriving shortly.”
Taylor had a cup of dark tea in her hands with a plate of scones to her right when a gorgeous dark-haired woman sauntered into the inn. Francesca Maroun walked over to her husband and kissed him soundly on the mouth before saying, “Hello! I’m Francesca, and I hear we need to take down a very bad man. I’ll be setting up the storyboard for you under Arthur’s direction.”
The force of the woman was woven into every aspect of her, from her tailored clothes to the power of her subtly accented voice, a hint of French and Arabic from her Lebanese background. Taylor liked the look of her immediately.
Francesca made for Arthur, and the older man groaned theatrically as he pushed himself out of his chair. “I suppose I can handle you being involved too. Did you bring the munchkin?”
She nodded as she kissed both his cheeks. “Yes, I let Becca steal Devlin up to their tower to play with his cousins, although Brenna insists on pointing her chubby little finger at him and grunting when he doesn’t crawl fast enough. Shall we? We have work to do.”
“I’ve already been replaced by the task master,” Arthur joked as they followed her and gathered in the inn’s large dining room. Four dry erase boards had already been set up at the front beside the kitchen, along with a buffet of more scones, bread, and other treats—none of which could tempt Taylor.
“Aileen and Cian work fast like always.” Francesca uncapped a blue marker and faced the room as everyone sat down at the tables closest to the front. “Arthur, lay out what you have already, and I’ll start writing.”
Arthur’s recitation of what he had found so far captivated Taylor so much that she had to force herself to focus on jotting notes on the legal pad on which she’d compiled her own research on the short plane ride up. Eoghan was munching on a scone, listening carefully along with the rest of them.
“So, his empire stretches from Dublin to Watertown with inroads in Castlebar, Galway, Shannon, and Limerick,” Francesca summed up when Arthur finished, pointing to the first board where she’d drawn a rough map of the holdings Arthur had outlined.
“Eoghan, would you say that’s about right?” Arthur asked, turning to the older man beside him.
He nodded, wiping his mouth of crumbs. “I’d only say yes given the fact that Caisleán’s new Garda officer came from Sligo, so Malcolm clearly doesn’t have an iron fist up north. I can’t say about the other towns. But everyone knows he made his original money with his construction company, which built many of the public roads in the west with hefty contracts from the government, most of which needed repaving immediately because of the shoddy materials and cut corners.”
“Correct,” Arthur said, “which added to his influence. He was the go-to man for foreign manufacturers who wanted factories built too, everything from American steel to Chinese windmills.”
“And last but not least,” Eoghan said with a frown, “the hotels and golf courses he not only builds but raises private investments for.”
Arthur pushed his tea aside, setting his hands on the table. “He’s had primary investors from America, China, and Russia. That’s where we need to look. Thankfully, Quinn and Francesca run these kinds of business profiles regularly.”
Quinn opened a briefcase on his table and passed a bound copy to Arthur. “Everything our folks could dig up on Malcolm’s official holdings.”
Arthur pretended the weight was too much for him, wincing as his arm lowered weakly. Clara only socked him again. “I knew you would come through,” he said with a harumph. “Now, we sift through the hard stuff. Everyone will receive a list of companies Malcolm has done business with. Flynn, remind us of what we’re looking for.”
He choked on the scone he was chewing before swallowing rapidly. “I didn’t know there would be a quiz. Lucky for you, I’m the smartest of my brothers so I know the answer. Shell companies.”
“He’s a megalomaniac,” J.T. whispered. “We can’t believe we’re related to him.”
“Shh—” Clara turned and pinned him with a stare.
“Thank you for playing teacher, Clara,” Arthur declared after giving J.T. his own hard look. “That’s correct, and in the usual countries of Panama, the Cayman Islands, the British Virgin Islands, Cyprus, Hong Kong, Singapore, Isle of Man, Seychelles, and— Flynn?”
“Me again?” He smoothed the lapel of his suit, puffing his chest out. “Star student here. Belize, Uncle.”
“Exactly!” Arthur handed the report to Francesca. “Start writing, my dear. But that’s only one part of the equation. Taylor is right in thinking we need to find instances of Malcolm swindling his own so-called friends.”
“Ones in the Irish government to start,” she broke in. “People at this level don’t turn on one another unless the betrayal either embarrasses or hurts them. I’m not feeling very nice right now, so I’d love to find both.”
J.T. put a comforting hand on her arm. “We’ll do our best.”
“That means sorting through photos of Malcolm in the media with various government officials—and anyone else we can find. Eoghan, would you be willing to work with my lovely wife on that front since you know many of the Irish politicians?”
“It would be a pleasure,” Eoghan said, flashing Clara a smile, “and if I don’t recognize someone, I’ll have my son look at him. He’s on standby to help.”
Taylor had figured as much, but Linc had thought they needed to keep Donal in Caisleán so he could continue to take in-person meetings with the local officials he knew while Linc worked with the lawyers to make further inroads with people in Dublin, something that was proving difficult since no one seemed to know who had authorized the special investigative Garda unit that had arrested Liam in the first place.
