The Garden of Betrayal - Lee Vance [97]
“How do we find out who that was?”
“Petronuevo did an IPO, which means they had to prepare a prospectus. The prospectus will identify all the original investors.”
“Can I pull that up online?” Kate asked.
“A prospectus for a Spanish issue? I’m not sure. But there’s an easier way.” I took my phone from my pocket and dialed Morgan Stanley’s New York switchboard. “The big investment banks keep copies of domestic and international prospectuses in their in-house libraries.”
“Morgan Stanley,” the night operator answered.
“Peter McKenzie in Hong Kong, please.”
The phone clicked twice and then began ringing.
“Research.”
“Peter,” I said, recognizing his voice. “Mark Wallace.”
“Mark. Long time. How’ve you been?”
“Can’t complain. Listen, I’m sorry to ring up out of the blue, but I need a small favor.…”
34
“Thanks so much for your time,” Claire said, her voice tinny and muffled on the cell phone’s speaker. “You’ve been really helpful. I’ll let you know if we end up taking the space.”
“Do,” a woman replied. “It’d be nice to have some new neighbors.”
I heard the sound of a door being opened, and then Reggie’s hoarse whisper from the second cell phone.
“Claire’s coming out.”
I glanced at Kate, who was sitting next to me in the front seat of our car. We were in an open-air garage in White Plains, New York, twenty miles north of the city. The two cell phones were balanced on the armrests between us. The prospectus Peter McKenzie had e-mailed me from Hong Kong identified the firm that originally funded Petronuevo as Ganesa Capital. According to their corporate records, Ganesa had a single small office on the fifth floor of an ugly concrete building three blocks away from where we were now parked.
“You get everything?” I asked Kate.
She looked up from the computer in her lap and nodded.
“Where are you, Reggie?” I asked.
“We’re just stepping into the stairwell.” His voice sounded from both speakers now, distinct on one and muted on the other. “I’m going to give you to Claire.”
“Were you able to hear?” she asked.
“Yes. No problem.” Claire had her phone clipped to her skirt at the small of her back and hidden by a jacket. “You want to review names?”
“I think I have it. The woman I spoke to is Sue Dye. Her boss is Mike Paulson, and he manages SureView Insurance. The building maintenance guys are Rahim and Joe.”
SureView was on the fourth floor of the building, directly below Ganesa.
“Right,” Kate confirmed, following along on her screen. “And the temp agency they use is People Now, on Mamaroneck Avenue.”
“So, what do you think?” I asked nervously. “You ready to tackle Ganesa, or you want a little more time to recover?”
“I’d rather get it over with,” Claire said.
“Any sign of trouble, or anything that doesn’t feel right, and I want you out of there immediately. You have difficulty leaving and you shout for Reggie. He’ll be right outside in the hall. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Give me to Reggie again, please.”
“Mark?” he said.
“You’re going to take care of her if there’s a problem, right?”
“Absolutely. Don’t worry about anything. She’s doing great.”
I heard their footsteps on the stairs, and then another door opening and closing. My palms were sweating, Reggie’s assurances regardless. I couldn’t believe Claire had talked me into letting her do this.
“She’s headed in now,” he murmured.
“Hi,” Claire said. “Rachel Whitson. I’m temping downstairs at Sure-View Insurance.”
“Ellen Cho,” a woman answered. “Nice to meet you.”
“Sue asked me to come up because we noticed some water dripping into our phone closet. She talked to the building guy—Rahid?”
“Rahim.”
“And he said that he and Joe would be up in about ten minutes. But Sue wanted me to let you know, in case you have a leak.”
“I haven’t noticed anything.”
“My husband’s a plumber. You mind if I just check the sink in your pantry?”
“Please.”
“Your pipes are dry,” Claire said a minute later. “And there’s no water puddling under the dishwasher. But I’m turned around. If the pantry’s here, where