Full Circle (17 page)

They left the security firm and took a taxi into the City, site of Roman Londinium, still bordered by fragments of the ancient wall, and which now housed the financial district. Adam had heard of the City all his professional life. He had once dreamed of working here, his abilities recognized by the financial world. Deal in hundreds of millions of pounds or euros or dollars, the fate of corporations teetering on the phone in his hand. Billing out at thousands of dollars an hour, being courted by industrial kings, so keen an analyst he was able to remain independent and sell his services to the highest bidder. Suits by Saville Row, wheels by Lamborghini, plane by Gulfstream, home by Berkeley Square. A winner.

Instead, he sat on a little fold-down seat and faced out the taxi's rear window. He held the detective's video camera in his lap. Kayla sat across from him, glancing over every now and then. But most of her attention was captured by the manila folder that Bill Foley, the detective, held in his lap. Bill sat next to Kayla and gabbed on about how rare it was in his trade to come up with the goods in less than two days.

They rolled down the long Goswell Road corridor, with the Barbican's windowless ground-floor barricade to one side and a hodgepodge of cheerless buildings on the other. The taxi swung past Saint Paul's Cathedral and the Guildhall and entered a different realm, one liberally slathered with money. The people were flash, the buildings rich, the tempo frenetic. The City was the world's most powerful center for international finance, surpassing even New York and Tokyo. A place Adam had always dreamed of entering one day.

They pulled up in front of a new building fashioned of cream-colored tile and dark smoked glass. Kayla read the name emblazoned in bronze above the entrance and cried, “But we can't come here!”

Adam felt his entire body quivering with a tension he only half understood. Even so, his voice held to its steady calm. “We have to.”

“But . . . This is Madden and Van Pater headquarters!”

“I realize that, Kayla.”

Her features were tightly pinched. “You don't understand. You can't. They've hounded Daddy for years!”

Adam leaned forward and took hold of her hand. “I know this is hard for you, Kayla. But we have
got
to do this.”

“This is so not good. Daddy would explode if he heard.”

“We'll tell him tonight and see, but I think he'll tell you we did the right thing.”

“That's impossible.”

“This is the company your father thinks is trying to sink his ship, right?”

“He and Joshua both.”

“Can you give me some details?”

Kayla looked out the front window. “While he was still working for them, Daddy started making inroads with the Oxford colleges and their endowment programs. He went to the MVP board and asked them to set up an Oxford office. He said the university required a different approach from the normal City edict of profit above all else. He said this new office should be quasi-independent, allowed to take an altogether different approach.”

“But MVP refused your father, didn't they?” Adam filled in the blanks. “So Peter quit the company, started up his own group, and made a success of it. And they've been after him ever since.”

She shuddered. “We have to leave here, Adam.”

“Kayla, listen to me. This is going to be hard for you. But we're after solving a problem. A very serious crisis. And we can only do this with your help.” He turned to the detective and asked, “How much longer?”

Bill Foley glanced at his watch. “Any moment now. According to the lass I spoke with, you could set your watch by this bloke. By all accounts he's a work hard, play harder type. Him and his pack, they go to that champagne bar you see round the corner there. Leave the premises bang on time, claim the same table every day. Leastwise, that's what I was told.”

Kayla looked from one man to the other. “Who?”

Adam made sure the video was up and running. His fin-gers were trembling slightly, but his voice remained steady. “Watch closely.”

Bill pointed out the window. “That's him coming out of the front doors now.”

Adam held back just far enough to ensure the taxi's shadows hid his camera. He was amazed at how calm he felt. Tremors touched his viewfinder every now and then. Even so, far more than the camera's lens detached him from everything going on out there on the street. And even here inside the taxi. He heard Kayla's sharp intake of breath. Beside her on the seat, the detective said, “Best stay back, miss. Don't want him seeing you now, do we?”

“This can't be happening!”

Adam zoomed in more tightly on the man walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. The camera went out of focus, then sharpened. Adam was grateful for this distance, very grateful indeed. “That's him, isn't it? Geoffrey. The thief.”

chapter 18

A
dam had never had much contact with American cops. But he suspected they held a lot of similarities to their British counterparts. They were seated in an office on the third floor of the new Scotland Yard headquarters. Outside the window to the right of his chair, Adam could see the red buses trundle past, the black humpbacked taxis, the white-stoned buildings of ancient London town. The two policemen seated across from them were members of the Fraud Squad. Their accents were clipped, their uniforms and badges distinctly British. But they gave Kayla the same flat cop-gaze. And they responded with the same blunt directness.

The male policeman occupied the chair behind the desk. “I'm afraid there is very little we can do for you, Miss Austin.”

“I'm handing him to you on a plate,” Kayla protested.

“Hardly that. You are describing a crime that took place on the soil of a different sovereign nation.”

“Involving money from a British trust.”

The younger of the two officers, a dark-haired woman who made up for her diminutive stature with a rock-solid density, said, “She has a point.”

The male officer gave her a sour look. “The crime took place in Kenya.”

“Tanzania,” Kayla corrected. “We operate in both countries, but our central office—”

“Kenya, Tanzania, Timbuktu, the result is the same insofar as this office is concerned. The crime took place outside our jurisdiction.”

The female officer, however, was a trifle more sympathetic. “We could send a flyer to the local authorities.”

“That won't help us,” Kayla said glumly. “They lost interest in Geoffrey's theft the moment they heard everything was taken. Which meant there was nothing left to bribe them with.”

The male officer checked his notes. “I thought you said his name was Derek.”

“It was. Is. But I knew him as Geoffrey.”

The officer started to make a note, but thought better of it and set down his pen. “That changes nothing so far as we are concerned.”

“But—”

“Let's just review what we have, shall we?” He glanced at his associate, clearly arguing with her as well. “This Derek or Geoffrey was hired by your organization. He worked with you for, how long was it?”

“About six months.”

“He then left. At the same time, your bank account and your office safe were both allegedly cleaned out.”

“There's no
alleged
about this!”

“We have nothing except your word to go on here, Miss Austin. And even if we accept that a crime took place, we have no way to tie him to this.” Another look at his associate, then he added, “As far as we are concerned, you might have stolen the funds yourself.”

Kayla turned bitter. “From my own father?”

“It's happened before. Six hundred thousand pounds is a substantial sum.”

“Then why would I have come in here?”

Adam spoke for the first time since entering the office. “Thanks for seeing us. Come on, Kayla. We're all done here.”

The female officer accompanied them back to the elevators. She introduced herself as Inspector Walton, pushed the elevator button, and said, “I for one accept that a genuine crime was committed.”

Kayla was evidently too hot from the exchange to respond. So Adam said, “Thank you.”

“My children insist on eating Fair Trade produce every chance they get. I admire you for what you've tried to do.” She handed Adam her card. “If you can come up with anything concrete that ties this character to the deed, do please let me know.”

On the train back to Oxford, Kayla flashed continually back to the shocking moments. In the early days, her parents had often spoken of MVP's tactics. How they were bent on destroy-ing her father's new company. How nothing was too low for them.

And now this. Geoffrey Rambling, the man she assumed was lost and gone forever. Walking down the sidewalk, flashing his pirate's grin at the people to either side. The man in control. The winner.

The only thing that kept her anchored to earth was Adam's hand. He sat beside her and did not speak. One hand was entwined around hers, the other rested on the seat behind her head. She felt his warmth and strength radiating out, enveloping her. Giving her the ability to draw the world back into focus and say, “I want to kill him.”

Adam did not speak. His dark gaze held coppery glints of light. He watched her with an unblinking calm.

“Find a gun, walk up to him, let him get a good look at who it is, and bang. Finished.”

Adam held her gaze and remained silent.

“Don't you have anything to say?”

“I'm waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to get over the shock and come back to earth.”

“You don't think I'm serious?”

“I know it's not going to happen. And so do you.”

She turned to the window. The train passed a bend in the river Thames. A village of thatched houses and open timbers passed by. The winter waters were still and slate gray, the party boats gone for the season. “How can you be so calm?”

“I had a couple of hours to work through it before you arrived. And I wasn't the one he stole from.” Adam paused, then added, “At least, not directly.”

Kayla felt a hint of warmth touch a spot that had been frozen since seeing Geoffrey's photograph. She did not care what name the detective might give to the thief. To her, he remained Geoffrey Rambling, the man who used his looks and his smile to lie and steal and destroy.

She said, “I have to tell Daddy.”

“Not yet.”

“What?”

“He's still at the office. The company is still in crisis mode. And I've been fired, remember?”

Kayla glanced at her watch. It was not yet four o'clock. Which was impossible. The day already seemed eons in length.

Adam said, “On the way out, you said you'd spoken with Honor.”

“I don't want to talk about that now. I can't.”

“Just tell me this. Was I right to call and speak with you like I did?”

She wanted to push it away. Her mind was too full. But Adam's face was tense with an expectancy so powerful it looked almost like worry. “Yes. You were.”

“Great. That's great.”

“What made you say what you did?”

He hesitated a fraction, then replied, “I had a tutorial.”

“What?”

Adam said, “It would make more sense if I showed you.”

Adam found a spot for her father's big Mercedes just down the road from the boardinghouse where he lived. He sat looking at her reflectively.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I know this has been a really hard day for you.”

“You could say that.”

“If you want to stay in the car, it's okay. But I'd really like it if you could come in with me.”

“You want me to sit in on a tutorial you're having with Dr. Beachley?”

“That's what she calls it.”

“What's your name for it, then?”

“All I can tell you is, she makes me think in different ways. Will you come?”