Home Free - Fern Michaels [87]
In unison, they all said, “Do it!”
Charles moved quickly back to his workstation and typed out a directive. He was back within minutes. “One hour to put my people in place, another hour to infiltrate the building. We should hear something in a little over two hours. Remember now, it’s Sunday, so if Mr. OO is in residence, all we can do is surveillance, which means my people will be in place to follow Mr. OO in the morning, when he goes to work. If he’s home, we’ll know something in a little over an hour.”
“Then let’s spend the time studying this report,” Yoko said.
“As we read it, let’s throw out questions to each other,” Alexis said.
“First, let’s see exactly who Mr. OO is. Let’s all read his profile, then run it up the flagpole,” Myra said. The room went silent as all eyes turned to the briefing materials Abner had prepared.
“As long as it isn’t that other pole,” Nikki quipped.
The room went silent again as more pages turned. Soft murmurs could be heard as the group digested what was on the written pages.
Charles waited until Yoko, who was the last to finish, turned the final page. “Comments please.”
“I think the guy is stealing from the fund he controls,” Jack said.
“I think he leads a double life,” Ted said.
“Where did he get the money to buy a three-floor brownstone, run-down or not?” Kathryn asked.
“It’s in a run-down neighborhood, and it’s a cover,” Bert said. “I think he has some fancy digs somewhere else,” he added hastily.
Esposito spoke for the first time. “Do you want me to go up there and take some pictures? If Ted is agreeable, we could talk to some of the neighbors, maybe say the Post is running some kind of special something or other. People love getting their pictures taken and being in the newspaper. We could even do a Google Earth thing right now if you all want to see the neighborhood.”
Charles immediately clicked on the big-screen TV hanging on the wall. The room grew quiet the way it always did when Lady Justice, scales in hand, appeared on the screen. Charles pressed more buttons, then clicked and clicked. “There it is! That is Mr. OO’s address.” He pressed another button, and the picture became so clear, they could see vehicles and the license plate numbers on the cars.
“No pedestrians are out and about. Of course, the weather could have something to do with that. So, ladies and gentlemen, do we want Mr. Esposito and Ted to take a trip to Mt. Pleasant?”
“Tomorrow morning would be good,” Maggie said. “People do not like to open their doors at night to strangers. Sometimes, they even call the police.”
Charles nodded. “We should be hearing from Avery Snowden’s people shortly. Go back to Mr. OO’s profile.”
Annie flipped pages. “Here we go. Mr. OO was born and raised in Boston. He attended Boston University. He was the valedictorian of his class. He got a master’s at twenty-one and had his Ph.D. at the age of twenty-four. Smart man. Both his parents were professors at Boston University. Equally smart, so it’s easy to see where the man got his brains. He’s forty-nine years old. He’ll turn fifty in February. Maybe he’s having a midlife crisis,” she said, tongue in cheek.
“He went into government service early on and has stayed on the government’s payroll. As to where he got the money to buy the brownstone, it looks like he bought it about fifteen years ago, when his parents passed away. Their estate passed to him, and it was rather robust. There isn’t much activity in his brokerage account, which also came to him from his parents. It’s all invested in safe, conservative holdings. Once in awhile, he makes a modest investment in stocks, but never more than five hundred shares at a time. I don’t see anything here that raises a red flag.”
“It says here that Mr. OO had a close friend in college. Joel Jessup, who was a financial wizard much like Mr. OO. Abner scanned a picture of him from his college yearbook. Big guy. Just as brainy as Mr. OO. His