The Sixth Man Page 18

  “Granted, but still, they seem to be really close right now.”

  “Well, to be fair, we’ve never even heard the brother say anything. And she was equal parts loquacious and stingy with details.”

  “Regarding details about her personal history, which was my point earlier.”

  Michelle looked around. “Okay, we’ve seen the burial grounds. Now what?”

  Sean examined some old tools on the workbench. “Let’s assume he was framed. How do you get six bodies in here, bury them, and no one knows?”

  “First of all, the place is in the middle of nowhere. Second, Roy wasn’t here all the time. He worked outside the house and also spent time in D.C. Or at least so we were told.”

  “So, easy enough to plant the evidence. Then the question is why?”

  “Meaning if he was an unimportant cog in the nation’s mighty tax collection machine, why go to all the trouble?”

  “There are two possible answers to that. Either it’s something in his personal history that we don’t know yet. A personal grudge of significant importance to justify six bodies. Or—”

  “Or he wasn’t just an unimportant cog. He was a lot more. Other things being equal, I’m leaning in that direction. Like his sister says, he had uncommon intellectual gifts. That would be important to certain people, or agencies.”

  “That and the time spent in D.C. make me lean the same way. Plus the fact that the FBI is all over this with unusual interest.” He dusted off his hands. “Okay, let’s make the rounds of the ME, and the office where Roy worked.”

  When they came out of the barn an SUV pulled into the front yard and two men in suits got out.

  One of them said, “Can I ask what you’re doing here?”

  Sean gazed at him. “Right after you tell me who the hell you are.”

  The men flashed badges. Quickly.

  “Didn’t quite catch the name of the agency on your commission,” said Sean. “Want to try that again, slower?”

  The creds didn’t come back out, but the men’s guns did. “We’re federal officers and you need to get off this property right now.”

  Sean and Michelle showed their IDs, explained what they were doing there, and Sean’s earlier conversations with the local police force and the county prosecutor.

  One of the men shook his head. “I don’t really care. Get out. Now.”

  “We’re investigating this case for the defense. We have the right to be here.”

  “All the same, you’re going to have to leave.”

  “How’d you know we were here?” asked Michelle, as they headed to her truck.

  “Excuse me?” said one of the men.

  “There’s nobody around here. We didn’t pass one car getting here. How’d you know we were here?”

  In response the man opened the door to Michelle’s truck and motioned for her to get in.

  Sean and Michelle sped off down the dirt road, billowing dust behind them and into the faces of the two Feds.

  “They couldn’t have known we were there, Sean. And those badges looked like the real deal even if I couldn’t see what agency they were actually with. They looked like Feds.”

  He nodded. “We’re being tailed. I wonder for how long.”

  “I swear there was no one following us when we went to see Kelly Paul. There’s no way I could’ve missed that. There was no cover. Absolutely none.”

  “That’s the rub. There’s no cover here, either, and they still showed up.”

  Michelle gazed out the window. “Satellite?”

  “We’re up against the Feds here. Why not?”

  “Buying satellite time is a tough step even for the Bureau.”

  Sean considered this. “Those guys weren’t with the FBI. They want you to know who they are. They would’ve shoved their creds right in our faces and kept them there.”

  “Damn, what have we got ourselves into?”

  Sean didn’t answer her because he had nothing to say.

  CHAPTER

  29

  “HE WAS AN EXCEPTIONAL WORKER. Smart as a whip. No—smarter, actually. It was really something. Almost not human, I’d guess you could say.”

  Sean and Michelle were in Leon Russell’s office at the IRS in Charlottesville. Russell was short and wide, with thick white hair. He wore a short-sleeved shirt with a T-shirt underneath and suspenders. His fingers were stained with nicotine, and he twitched a lot, as though the absence of a cigarette in his hand was messing with his mind.

  “That’s what we heard too,” said Sean. “What were his duties here?”

  “He was the troubleshooter. Anything out of the ordinary that no one else could figure out, we went to Edgar.”

  “What sort of person was he?” asked Michelle.

  “Kept to himself. We’d sometimes go out for a beer after work. Edgar never joined us. He’d head home to his farm. I think he liked to read.”

  “Did you ever go out to the farm?”

  “Only once, when I was interviewing him for the job.”

  “How’d you come to know about him?”

  “Friend of a friend. At his college. I keep contacts everywhere. People with exceptional talent I get a heads-up on. Edgar really stood out. He’d been out of school for a while, doing what I’m not sure. But I called him up and he came in for an interview. Impressed the hell out of me. I had one of those old Rubik’s Cubes on my desk. He picked it up while he was talking to me, and kept messing it up and then solving it over and over, just like that. I’ve never been able to do it once. It was like he could see every combination in his mind. Bet the guy could’ve been a hell of a chess player.”

  “I didn’t realize the IRS went all out for that kind of talent,” said Sean. “It’s not like you can compete with the salaries on Wall Street.”

  “Edgar had no desire to go there. Don’t get me wrong. He probably could’ve come up with some derivative algorithm that would’ve made him billions. Or designed some software in Silicon Valley that would have made him equally rich.”

  “But no interest?”

  “He had his farm, his books, his numbers.”

  “Numbers?” asked Michelle.

  “Yeah. Guy loved numbers, what he could make them do. And he loved complexities. He could take a ton of different sections of the tax code—income, gift, estate, corporate, partnerships, carried interests, capital gains—and visualize how they all worked together. Did it for fun. For fun! Do you realize how remarkable that is? The tax code is a freaking nightmare. Even I don’t understand all of it. Not even close, in fact. No one does. Well, except for Edgar. Every page and every section and every word. Probably the only one in the country who did.”

  “Pretty unique,” said Michelle.

  “Oh, yeah. Made our little office stand out, I can tell you that. Other places wanted to snag him. I mean in the IRS system. They tried, but he was content. He didn’t want to move. Thank God for me. The performance bonuses I got because of that guy, well, let’s just say my retirement will be a lot better because of him.”

  “I understand that he went to D.C. a lot,” said Sean. “Is that because he was the only one in the country who understood it all?”

  Russell’s amiable expression changed. “Who told you he went to D.C. a lot?”

  “Is that not true?”

  “Depends on how you define a lot.”

  “How would you define it?” asked Michelle.

  “Once a week.”

  “Okay, did Roy meet that standard or not?”

  “I’d have to check my files.”

  “Is the office here that big?”

  “It’s bigger than it looks.”

  Sean switched gears. “So he was working here when he was arrested?”

  Russell leaned back and studied them both, his hands resting on his belly. Over his shoulder was a shelf full of thick white binders with sleep-inducing titles on the spines.

  “And you say you’re representing Edgar’s interests?”

 
“That’s right. We were hired by his counsel, Ted Bergin.”

  “Who I now understand is dead.”

  “That’s right. He was murdered up in Maine near where Roy is being held.”

  “So you’re technically no longer representing Edgar, then?” Russell smiled at what he obviously thought was a key and winning point in the debate.

  “Actually, we are. Bergin’s law firm was representing him, and there’s another lawyer there who’s taken the case over. So the connection still holds.”

  Russell, who did not seem to be listening to this, spread his hands. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Well, I was hoping you could tell me if Roy was working here when he was arrested.” He paused. “Or is the office too big to determine that?”

  “I don’t need to tell you anything. You’re not the police.”

  “By not telling us things you’re actually telling us a lot,” pointed out Michelle.

  Sean added, “I’m sure the police have been by to question you. Why don’t you just tell us what you told them?”

  “Why don’t you just ask them yourself? I’ve already told you enough. And I’ve got work to do.”

  “It’s always nice to hear it from the horse’s mouth,” said Michelle. “I hope you recognize your role in the proceedings.”

  “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

  Sean sat forward. “Do you think he’s guilty?”

  The man shrugged. “Probably.”

  “Why?”

  “These genius types. They’ve all got dark sides. Think too much. Not like the rest of us. So, yeah, he probably did it. Let’s face it, any guy who knows every reg of the tax code has to be some sort of a wacko.”

  “Well, let’s hope you don’t get called for jury duty,” snapped Michelle. This drew a scowl from Russell.

  Sean said, “Did you notice anything in Roy’s behavior that would have indicated he might have been a serial killer?”

  Russell gave a fake yawn and said in a clearly uninterested tone, “And what sort of behavior would I have been looking for?”

  Michelle pounced. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe a human head or two in the jellybean bowl on his desk. Subtle things like that, you freaking moron.”

  A minute later they were being escorted out of the building by a security guard who looked about as tough as the accountants in the building. When he reached out to put a hand on Michelle’s back to urge her along, she snarled, “Touch me and die.”

  The man jerked his hand back so fast he winced, as though he’d pulled a muscle.

  Outside Sean sighed. “I love your interrogation approach, Michelle. So subtle, so sophisticated.”

  “Almost makes you want to be wearing a badge again,” said Michelle. “That way they can’t kick you out before you get your answers, even if you’re a smart-ass. And that idiot was going to tell us nothing useful.”

  “You’re right. He was stonewalling. Must be a good reason.”

  “And Roy was most definitely not working for the IRS when he was arrested. Otherwise the guy would have just told us so. He’s hiding something. He tells us a lie, it comes back to bite him. He tells us nothing, nothing sticks to him later.”

  They were about to get in Michelle’s SUV when the woman approached.

  She was timid looking, with straight light-blond hair and glasses that fronted pretty blue eyes.

  “Excuse me?” she said cautiously.

  They turned to look at her.

  “I understand you were here asking questions about Edgar?”

  Sean said, “Did you know him?”

  “We worked in the same cubicle zone. I’m Judy, Judy Stevens.”

  “We were asking questions, although answers from your boss were hard to come by.”

  “Mr. Russell doesn’t like to say anything that might come back to, you know…”

  “Bite him in the ass?” suggested Michelle.

  A smile crept to Judy’s face and her cheeks reddened slightly. “Yes.”

  “But you don’t have that issue?” Sean asked.

  “I just want the truth to come out.”

  “And what do you think is the truth?”

  “All I know is Edgar stopped working here over seven months before this nightmare happened. Before that he was here for eight years.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “Nobody really knows. He just didn’t come to work one day. I asked Mr. Russell but he told me it was none of my business.”

  “Okay. Did you hear from Edgar?”

  Judy lowered her gaze. “Edgar and I were friends. He… he was a nice person. Just very shy.”

  “So did you hear from him?” Sean asked her again.

  “He called me one night. Just out of the blue. I asked him what was going on, why he was no longer coming to work. He told me that he had another job, but he couldn’t say what it was.”

  “Did he say why he couldn’t tell you?”

  “Just that it was very sensitive. That was the word he used. Sensitive.”

  “Did you hear from him again?”

  “No. And from the way he was talking it seemed to me that his calling me was… was…”

  “A risk on his part?” prompted Michelle.

  Judy lifted her gaze. “Yes, exactly. A risk on his part.”

  Michelle said, “Then he must really think a lot of you for him to take that chance.”

  Judy’s face flushed with pleasure. “I thought a lot of him.”

  Sean appraised her. “So you don’t think he killed all those people?”

  “No. I knew Edgar. Well, I knew him as well as anyone did, I guess. He’s not a killer. He wouldn’t know how. It just wasn’t in his psyche. Even though he was so big, he was actually a very gentle man. If he accidentally stepped on a cricket it would make him sad.”

  Sean handed her his card. “You think of anything, please contact us.”

  She clutched the card. “Have you seen Edgar? I mean up in that… place?”

  “We have.”

  “How is he?”

  “Not that good.”

  “Could you tell him that Judy says hello? And that I believe in his innocence,” she added in a firm tone.

  “I will.”

  They climbed in Michelle’s SUV and started off.

  She said, “Okay, Edgar’s got at least one person rooting for him.”

  “Make that two. His half sister.”

  “Right.”

  “So he just stops coming to work one day. His IRS boss clams up. Nobody is told anything. And he takes a risk and calls his friend and tells her he has a new job and that it’s sensitive.”

  She scowled. “And Murdock is counterterrorism. So it’s got to be national security, you know, spy stuff. And you know how much I hate spy stuff.”

  “What, you mean the double and triple backstabbing and multiple agendas for every scenario?”

  “More or less, yeah.”