Whiplash - Catherine Coulter [37]
"Agent Richards," Toms said, "Mr. Royal isn't here to be insulted. As for calling our corporate executives in Germany his 'masters,' you are merely baiting him, and, I might add, showing your jingoistic prejudices."
Bowie never took his eyes of Royal. "Any prejudices on my part are the least of your problems. The fact is, Mr. Royal, regardless of what that woman took, no matter if it is related to Mr. Blauvelt's murder, your future is in this woman's hands. If these two crimes are connected, and you impede our investigation, you can be indicted for murder as an accessory after the fact."
Royal shot a look at Bender the Elder, but kept his mouth shut. Bowie wanted to smack him.
Bender the Elder cleared his throat. This aristocrat of lawyers had worked for Schiffer Hartwin over a decade, five years longer than Caskie Royal had been CEO. He cleared his throat again to draw all attention to him, even making Savich look up finally from MAX. He straightened his aviator glasses. "I will say this once, Agent Richards. Mr. Royal has no idea who the thief was or what the thief was after. What was on Mr. Royal's computer that night is irrelevant, and we cannot help you tie this break-in to the unfortunate murder of Mr. Blauvelt, as you persist in trying to do, with no proof whatsoever.
"Now, Agent, is there anything else you would like to ask Mr. Royal to justify your asking him here, to the local police department?" He looked around the spare conference room with its functional table and dozen uncomfortable chairs, as if expecting a roach or two to scuttle across the floor.
Sherlock spoke for the first time, her eyes locked on Royal's face. "Actually, we're close to locating your thief, Mr. Royal. You see, we found a witness who saw her. And once we have her, we may not need you or your company's help any longer. That would not be in your best interest, Mr. Royal.
"I do not believe either you or Ms. Alvarez murdered Helmut Blauvelt. You don't seem to me to be murderers. But he is dead nonetheless, and he had an appointment to see you yesterday."
"No! I told you, I didn't even know Mr. Blauvelt was in the U.S.!"
"Mr. Royal, a waiter at Chez Pierre overheard Mr. Blauvelt speaking on his cell phone Sunday evening. He spoke of you, seeing you on Monday morning. Come now, Mr. Royal, as I said, I don't believe you killed him, so why not tell us the truth? Don't you want to help us catch Mr. Blauvelt's murderer?"
Bowie went still at her smoothly delivered lie.
Bender the Elder opened his mouth, but Royal shouted over him, "All right! It doesn't matter anyway. So I knew Blauvelt was coming, but only the day before he arrived, and it was he who called me, not the directors in Germany. Mr. Blauvelt gave me no indication why he was here, and I did ask him, but he said it would wait for our meeting. I was mildly alarmed because I know his reputation. I did not see him before his murder and that's the truth. That's all I know. It doesn't help you at all because he's dead."
"Whatever it was that led to the break-in, could it be that Mr. Blauvelt was here to deal with the situation, or the person responsible?"
"I don't know."
"His death could mean someone was desperate, about to be exposed. Have you thought about the fact you might be next?"
18
Apprentice Toms and Bender the Elder talked over each other, Bender winning out with his booming cauldron-stirring voice. To Sherlock's delight, he actually smacked his fist on the tabletop and lost it, his breath coming harsh