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It took all night and half the morning to analyze the data that Violet, with the help of Vik at the FBI, extracted from the backup drive. What they found was every file that had been deleted the day LAPD raided Chen’s factory, exactly as Violet had predicted. The files were a series of contracts and memos outlining how grant money was steered to twelve different nonprofits, all of which were run by relatives of Rebecca Chavez, Lydia Zarian and Dorothy Duncan. Krista Zarian, Lydia’s daughter and Theodore Duncan’s live-in girlfriend, earned a cool three million dollars every year as the accountant for each nonprofit even though she had no accounting degree. She was the figurehead; Dorothy Duncan’s law firm filed all forms and taxes for the nonprofits.
Brian Granderson was leading the formal investigation into the city’s grant finances.
All the players had lawyered up. They probably thought that they’d get away with it because a complex white-collar crime case would be hard to prove. But Brian felt confident they would be able to build the case with the evidence they had from the data center and from Colton Fox’s investigation.
“We’re going to get them,” Brian said to Matt. “Why the sour face?”
“Because Conrad James isn’t telling me who hired him. He killed Craig Dyson on the orders of one of those people. I want them on murder.”
“You have James dead to rights for killing Peter Sharp. We also have a good case for Dyson.”
“I agree,” Matt said, “and there’s enough evidence that a jury would buy that he was the one in disguise. But I want his boss. I want the person trying to keep their hands clean. I want to know if he killed Bryce Thornton and why.”
Brian frowned. “You think James killed Bryce?”
“Yes. I know men like Conrad James. He isn’t a man who kills for himself. He takes pride in his work, he even enjoys it, but he kills because that’s his job. He killed Thornton because someone hired him to. I want that name.”
“Okay. Tell me what you need from me.”
“Right now, we don’t know where he lives. We don’t know who paid him. We have his name, but I don’t even know if Conrad James is his real name. His prints aren’t in the system, but this isn’t the first time he’s killed. He’s too experienced and too disciplined. We don’t have the gun that killed Chen and Thornton, but we suspect someone—James, most likely—took it from Kara’s condo. I need to talk to him and have some leeway on what I can offer. Not freedom, but some carrots that he might grab when he realizes he’s not getting out of prison for a long, long time.”
“What incentive does he have to talk?”
Matt considered. “We can take first-degree murder off the table. I don’t want to—I don’t want him to walk ever—but we’re not going to put Zarian or her cronies in prison for years. It’ll take at least a year to investigate, then another year before the trial—more because they have the money to postpone and play games. White-collar crimes take forever to prove, and this one is doubly complex. But murder? We can nail them.”
“I’ll call Nina Radinovich and see what we can do.”
“And, Brian? Rebecca Chavez needs to talk. I don’t think I’m the right person to convince her of that.”
He sighed, forlorn, then he nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”
Matt entered an interview room in the federal detention facility and faced Conrad James.
His lawyer was a public defender who looked nervous. “I, um, advised my client that he doesn’t have to speak,” the lawyer said.
“What’s your name?”
“Webster. Ethan Webster.”
“Thank you.”
Matt kept his focus on Conrad. Ryder had learned some important information about Mr. James since he was arrested last night and Matt hoped he could parlay the information into answers.
“Mr. James, thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
He smiled. “Conrad. Everyone, friend or foe, calls me Conrad.”
“Conrad, we have the drive, we have the information on the drive and we have launched a full investigation as I told you yesterday. Better, we have people who have come forward with pieces of information that are helping us find the truth—the entire truth. We will get all of them on something.”
“That has nothing to do with me, Matt,” Conrad said informally.
“I know you were hired.”
“Do you? Do you have evidence that I was hired? For what?”
“Either you killed Peter Sharp, Bryce Thornton and Craig Dyson for your own personal reasons and, if so, you will be tried for first-degree premeditated murder, or you were hired to kill them.”
“Objection,” Webster said.
