Glancing from Ryker to Tanya, Titus sucked in an audible breath and then broke the stunned silence. “Would you care to expound on that assertion, Zane?”
The district attorney shrugged and raised his hands in acceptance. “Perhaps, Sheriff, it will help if I recount a rather extraordinary conversation I had. Which, by the way, was unsolicited by me.”
Titus nodded and flicked an offhand finger. “Please recount.”
“I was surprised when Magnus Armstrong dropped in on me this morning. Uninvited, I might add. After attempting to convince me that he is a nationally well-regarded attorney, not merely Griffin Black’s attorney, it occurred to me that the obsequious man might have an ulterior motive for meeting with me. In addition to listing all of the prominent attorneys across the country with whom he is apparently best friends and colleagues.”
The district attorney paused for a long moment, then said, “I’m not often surprised, Titus. In fact, I may be one of the most cynical sons of bitches you’ll meet. But in response to my impatient request that he tell me why he insisted to see me, Armstrong caught me off guard. I’ll admit it took me a moment to respond. After he did a few dozen verbal cartwheels, I told him to get to the point or get the hell out of my office. At which time he indicated that he was here on behalf of his client and asked if I might consider a plea for a lesser charge. Unintentional homicide, perhaps.”
At Titus’s wide-eyed frown, Wilder nodded. “My response exactly, Sheriff. I pushed him. Asked if Mr. Black wanted to plead to a lesser charge. He backpedaled, making it clear, at least to me, that the chances Black had sent him were as likely as me beating LeBron in a pick-up game of twenty-one.”
“What did you tell him, Zane?”
Responding to Ryker, the polished district attorney guffawed. “You’ll be glad to know that I controlled myself, Agent Thompson. With an effort. After all, it’s not every day that a suspect’s attorney asks about a plea bargain when I haven’t even brought charges.” He added with his usual disarming smile, “I told him I would consider his request after the sheriff referred the case to me with his recommendations.”
“I presume he had a caution or two in that regard, correct?”
Zane Wilder winked at Titus. “Indeed he did, sir. Indicated that I should know that the sheriff might have a conflict, and it would serve me well to see that someone other than Sheriff Trouble is in charge of the case. He went on to say that unquestionably the case will get national attention. That if played right, could ensure a national reputation for whoever gets Black convicted.”
“I guess he knows how to pull your chain, Zane,” Ryker said with a grin.
“Apparently, he thought he did, Ryker. Which, of course, is why I hightailed it over to meet with the conflicted sheriff.”
Titus rose from his chair and ambled over to his liquor cabinet. Perusing the collection of impressive bottles, he reached in the back and took out a bottle of Bushmills Irish Whiskey. He said thoughtfully, as if he were talking to himself, “There are times so auspicious that only the whiskey I grew up on fits the bill.” Putting the bottle in the crook of one arm, he gathered up four glasses and returned to his desk. Pouring a good two inches of the amber liquid in each of the glasses, he handed the first to Zane Wilder. “I presume you aren’t above sharing a toast?” He handed a glass to Tanya and then to Ryker and Zane nodded in agreement.
Titus remained standing and raised his glass to Wilder. “Thank you, Mr. District Attorney. And I hope you don’t run for governor. Hell, you might win. We need you here, sir. Never more than in this case.” He bowed slightly and said, “Thank you, Zane.”
Ryker and Tanya both chimed in with a heartfelt “Hear, hear!”
****
Griffin steered Tara into the sheriff’s office. He’d told Titus that of course he would come to the precinct, but Tara had insisted she come with him. He was surprised when the sheriff reluctantly agreed but asked that only he and Tara come.
Walking into the office, he wasn’t surprised to see Ryker and Tanya sitting at the conference table. He’d expected them to be there. He hadn’t expected District Attorney Zane Wilder. Shoving at the surge of anxiety that stifled his breath, he held Tara’s arm as he led her to the table. Her slight gasp and tense carriage confirmed that she was as concerned at the sight of the DA as he was.
Titus leaned over and kissed Tara’s cheek, then pulled out a chair for her. He nodded to the chair next to his. “Please, Griffin, sit here.” Glancing at the district attorney, he said, “I presume you’ve had the opportunity to meet our district attorney, Zane Wilder.”
Griffin reached for Wilder’s hand and shook it. “Yes, I’ve had the pleasure. Under different circumstances, however.”
Assuming his seat, Griffin took charge of the conversation. Turning to Titus, he said, “Do you want to tell me what this is all about, Sheriff Trouble? And yes, while the district attorney and I have met in casual, more festive settings, I trust you understand why his presence at this time is more than a little unsettling.”
Titus nodded. “I hope we can assure you that his presence is more than welcome.”
Griffin raised a skeptical brow. “I look forward to that seemingly far-fetched notion. Perhaps then my gut will stop churning.”
Titus sat forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table, and met Griffin’s frowning gaze. “First, Griffin, and you too, Tara, thank you for coming.”
Griffin blew out an ironic breath. “Hmm, I guess both Tara and I assumed that your request wasn’t open for discussion.” His expression hardened. Not hiding his bitterness, he added, “In fact, I’m glad you called, Sheriff. At least if you are questioning me, it might take my mind off the fact that at this moment, a judge is rethinking my custody case. I will know as early as Monday if I’m about to lose any chance of having my children with me.”
Titus frowned. “I hope that won’t happen, Griffin.”
Griffin snorted. “To paraphrase the poet Longfellow, ‘hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast.’ ” He added with a derisive snort, “If anything is falling fast, besides the bottom out of my life, it’s my ability to convince the judge that my children belong with me.”
“Perhaps we can help.” At Griffin’s skeptical frown, Titus continued. “District Attorney Wilder brought me some interesting news. News that begs for more information. To cut to the chase, we need to look at your finances. I’d like your permission to subpoena your financial records.”
Griffin frowned. “What the hell, Sheriff? You don’t need a subpoena. I’ll open my books to you. For God’s sakes, I have nothing to hide. You can investigate anything you need to. I’ll hook you up with Magnus—”
“No, Griffin. This is between you and us.” He waved at the group around the table. “I want to do this by the book.” He added, “I’ll get a subpoena. But, Griffin, I don’t want anyone on your team to know what I’m doing. Do you understand?”
“I . . . I . . . No, Titus, I don’t understand. What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything, Griffin.” As he glanced around the table, Titus waved inclusively, including Zane Wilder in his gesture. “The district attorney and I want our forensic accountants to go over your financial records. Privately.”
Griffin held his gaze for a long moment, then shook his head in disbelief. “I think, Sheriff . . . ” He hesitated, then said, “Let me rephrase that. If you are saying what I think you are, you’re wrong. It’s inconceivable that . . . ” Seeing Titus’s hard frown, he stopped in mid-sentence. He was silent, a deep frown marring his brow, then said with a heartfelt groan, “At least I hope to God you’re wrong, Sheriff.”
Titus shrugged. “We’ll see after our forensic guys do their work. In the meantime, tell me about your relationship with Magnus Armstrong.”
Griffin shook his head, not able to hide his agonized surprise. “Other than the fact that I’ve known him for fifteen years and am closer to him than anyone in my life except my Delta buddies? He and Jia were my confidants. They knew almost as much about my business as I do.”
Again, Titus shrugged, then blew out a hard sigh. “What we need to find out is if they knew more.”
****
The following afternoon, Magnus Armstrong sauntered into the district attorney’s office. He shot the receptionist a pleasant smile. “District Attorney Wilder asked me to come—said that he needed to see me.” He glanced at the door to Wilder’s private office and moved toward it.
The receptionist stopped him. “Yes, Mr. Armstrong, the district attorney does want to see you. He indicated he would like to meet in the conference room.” Pointing to the door on the left, she said, “You may go in now. Mr. Wilder is waiting for you.”
Magnus walked confidently into the conference room, then came to a hard stop. When he saw Sheriff Trouble and his deputy, as well as Ryker Thompson, his obvious surprise looked more like shock. But the color left his face when he saw Griffin and Tara sitting at the far end of the conference table.
He muttered incoherently, “I . . . I don’t understand . . . ”
Zane Wilder rose from the head of the table. “Ah, good, Mr. Armstrong, you are here.”
Magnus stood in the doorway and then stammered, “I . . . don’t understand. I thought this was a private meeting.”
Zane Wilder said crisply, “I don’t know where you got that understanding, Mr. Armstrong. Certainly not from me. To recap, yesterday, you came to me and suggested that you might be able to convince Griffin Black to plead guilty to a lesser crime. Instead of aggravated murder, that of unintentional homicide.” He nodded to the empty seat across from Griffin Black. “But please, sit down.”
Magnus paled further, then seeming to gather himself, walked to the table and took the seat the district attorney indicated. He avoided looking at Griffin, rather turned back to the district attorney and said firmly, “Clearly, you misunderstood me, Mr. Wilder. I was merely testing a range of possibilities so that I could counsel my client effectively. I was doing what any good defense attorney does to better advise his client.”
“To the contrary, Mr. Armstrong, I understood your suggestion and at your instigation met with Sheriff Trouble and his team. Together, we met with Mr. Black and told him that we were going to subpoena his financial records.”
Seeing Magnus’s face blanch, Wilder added, “Mr. Black insisted that we wouldn’t need a subpoena, that he would open his books to us. He suggested that we meet with you, as you are as knowledgeable about Black Enterprises finances as he is.” Zane paused for effect, then said coolly, “As it turns out, Mr. Black understated your knowledge. According to our forensic accountants, you know more about his business than Mr. Black does.”
When Magnus merely stared at him, beads of sweat congregating on his brow and upper lip, Wilder handed him a sheaf of papers. “You may look at this report at your leisure, Mr. Armstrong. But to recap, our accountants found a series of discrepancies. Your ‘withdrawals’ began in small amounts three years ago and then grew to the rather astonishing sum of nearly nineteen million.” He held up his hand, stopping Magnus’s protest, and added, “You won’t be surprised that our accountants also reviewed your personal financial records. And before you protest, yes, Judge Taylor was more than willing to give us a subpoena for your personal finances.”
At that point, Griffin asked in an aggrieved tone, “Why, Magnus? Damn, man, why?”
Armstrong appeared to be considering his response and then as if conceding, he turned to Griffin and shrugged. “Why, Griffin? Because . . . because you had so goddamned much.” He flushed angrily and added scornfully, “Christ, man, you didn’t even miss it.”
The silence around the table was deafening as all the players considered Magnus. Later, Griffin would say that he wasn’t surprised when Magnus glared at him and then turned to Wilder and said flippantly, “So I stole from the company. Mea culpa. But what has that do with the murder investigation?”
Wilder nodded as if in agreement. “Ah yes, the murder of Jia Yanlin. Let’s just say we were intrigued enough by your theft to wonder if someone else knew what you were doing, a fact that could be devastating to you. Particularly if that ‘someone’ threatened to go to Mr. Black.”
Keeping a steady gaze on the now profusely sweating Magnus, Wilder continued. “We went to a judge and got a search warrant for Ms. Yanlin’s premises. It was clear from the disorder that someone—you—had already searched her rooms. It took Deputy Trouble, with the help of her older sisters, to suggest that we search Ms. Yanlin’s shoe collection. Apparently, the Trouble sisters all lusted after Jia Yanlin’s extraordinary shoes and told us if Ms. Yanlin hid the evidence anywhere, it would be in her shoes.” He gave an appreciative snort and added, “After we ploughed through boxes of the enormous shoe collection, including pairs of Jimmy Choos, Manolo Blahniks, and Christian Louboutins, each of which the Trouble Sisters tell me cost multiple thousands of dollars, it was Tara who suggested we look in the Miu Miu box. Apparently, Ms. Yanlin, who really does wear Prada, knew that Prada makes Miu Miu shoes. Sure enough, in the third box of Miu Mius, we found a thumb drive that Ms. Yanlin had created. It detailed every unauthorized ‘deduction’ you made from Black Enterprises.”