Move to Strike (43 page)

‘Correct,' said David, picking up his pace as the adrenalin started to flow.

‘Psychologically,' Sara piped in on speaker, ‘we know he is the ultimate control freak. According to Barbara Wong-McGregor, he sees himself as the definitive alpha male.'

Early this morning, after a night of soul searching and numerous apologies to Sara for failing to check on her earlier, David had not had the heart to argue when his incredibly understanding and ‘desperate to help' partner said she could still have a role in the lead-up to trial. Having promised she would stay at home and keep her working hours to a minimum, Sara had then come up with the idea of asking Barbara to compile a comprehensive psychological profile of a sociopath such as Logan, which the dedicated expert said she was more than happy to do – starting by giving Sara some immediate insights before promising to compose a more detailed report as quickly as she could manage it.

‘Barbara suggests Logan's IQ is extremely high. He has the innate ability to read people – which he uses, some might say for ‘good' on his television show, but for much more sinister purposes when it comes to manipulating his family and any who intend to cross him.

‘He knows how to get under people's skin,' she added, and David knew she was talking from experience. ‘He finds people's weaknesses and he uses them to his advantage. He thinks one step ahead at all times, hopscotching to the position which will give him the greatest advantage.'

‘Which makes you wonder what he is up to now, lad,' said Nora to David, given they all knew Logan's lawyer, the elderly Charles Harrison,
would have had word of the Logan children's latest decision on who would represent them in court. ‘There is no way he could force them to . . . ?'

‘No, Nora,' said David. ‘The children are set. They will refuse to see him, which is their prerogative. I have offered to represent them for free so money is not an issue. The law states that in the end it is the defendant's call who stands up for them at trial, especially in a case where juveniles are facing serious charges in an adult court.'

Nora nodded.

‘What else?' asked Arthur, getting them back on track.

‘We believe he is making advances towards Katherine de Castro,' said Sara.

‘Yes,' said David. ‘And given her call to Joe yesterday we can take a guess that she is feeling a little less than comfortable with how this whole thing is going down.'

‘Do you think it is safe to approach her?' asked Sara.

‘I think we have no choice. Unfortunately, the time to approach anyone subtly has passed.'

‘Then let me be the one to do it,' suggested Sara.

David saw Nora shoot him a look. ‘No, Sara. I can handle it,' he said.

‘I am sure you can, but no matter how hard you try, you are not going to come across as a woman who is sensitive to her fears. We got on well that afternoon at her house, David, we had a natural rapport. I can do it all from here,' she insisted. ‘I can call her, feel her out, see if she wants to meet for a coffee.'

Nora was still giving him the eye.

‘Okay,' he consented, his eyes falling away from his obviously displeased PA. ‘But let's start with a phone call – nothing more – and we'll discuss how it should play out from there.'

‘Okay,' said Sara. ‘Done.' And in that moment David loved her more than ever.

‘So what
don't
we know?' Arthur asked, once again keeping them focused.

‘Well, there is the unexplainable link to the Asian Boyz – but Joe and Frank are working on that.' David took a breath. ‘And we still don't know what that brochure means – the one Stephanie sent me for the Chatham Bars Inn.'

‘Maybe one of us should head down there,' suggested Sara.

‘Maybe,' agreed Arthur. ‘But it would be best if we had an idea of what we are looking for before we did. We don't have the time to go running around blind.'

‘Then I shall call the Chatham Bars Inn,' suggested Nora. ‘I shall ask if a Logan or Nagol or Golan is known to them. And if there is a link . . . well, I would be happy make the trip south to investigate.'

‘Nora . . .' began Sara through the speaker.

‘I know what you are thinking, dear, but I would really like the opportunity to make amends.'

‘There are no “amends” to make,' David insisted, moving towards his trusted secretary and taking her hand. ‘You are half the reason we have made such headway in this case.'

‘I am not sure Ms McCall would agree,' Nora said, her green eyes once again filled with regret.

‘David's right,' said Arthur. ‘You've been a terrific help as always, Nora. And we need you here, holding the fort while we all prepare for trial. No matter how much we think we know, this isn't going to be easy.' His eyes shot across to David.

‘I know,' David agreed. ‘But even the smartest of criminals have their weak point, Arthur – including sociopathic geniuses like Jeffrey Logan. And besides,' he said, turning to meet his mentor's eye, ‘something tells me there is one thing that gives me a distinct advantage.'

‘And what is that, son?' asked Arthur.

‘Logan is the typical bully. He has the habit of carefully picking his victims – preying on women and children and those without the resources to fight the bastard back. But I am not afraid of him, Arthur. In fact, the prospect of facing off against him, the idea of finally nailing the monster who forced his son to kill his own mother with a rifle powerful enough to split her in two is . . . well,' he paused, ‘. . . in all honesty, he can bring it on.'

H
e did not flinch when he said it. He did not hesitate or pause or suggest by the tone of his voice that what he was proposing was anything out of the ordinary. And Amanda Carmichael knew she should be celebrating; she understood that what Jeffrey Logan was offering would consolidate her victory. But she had to admit that, despite the considerable benefits, Logan's suggestion had made her skin crawl, and if she wasn't the career driven prosecutor that she was, she might have even described his offer as repulsive.

‘Forgive me for being surprised, Doctor,' she said. ‘I am appreciative, of course, and I understand your motives are in the best interests of your children.'

‘Of course.'

‘But – and I have to ask this – I do not want to go down this path if your offer is, how shall I put it . . . a knee-jerk reaction to your children's decision to seek independent counsel?'

‘Knee jerk?' he said with amusement. ‘If there is one thing I am not, Miss Carmichael, it is a person prone to acting on impulse.' Amanda did not doubt it; she had the feeling every move this man made was calculated right down to the tiniest detail, his latest proposal included.

‘You understand that your children's attorneys will need to be informed
of your decision. I have a legal obligation to provide them with a list of . . .'

‘Of course,' said Logan again, with the same casual assurance.

‘And we will need some time to prepare.'

‘I'll look forward to it,' he said.

A pause.

‘Well,' she said, in an attempt to stem the awkwardness, ‘I'll be in touch,' she added, starting to rise from her desk, ‘over the next few days, to set up some appointments.'

Jeffrey Logan smiled. ‘It's been a pleasure,' he said, as he extended his hand to shake hers.

She extended hers in return, and as Jeffrey Logan held on to her palm for that touch too long, she had to admit that just for the briefest of seconds, she sensed that she was dealing with the devil.

Deirdre McCall was missing. Joe got the call just after lunch. After apologising for not calling earlier, Detective Michael Lopez from the LVPD explained that the patient was last seen in her hospital room at about 6pm yesterday evening but that he was only informed of her MIA status after the hospital's security staff had failed to find the woman on the premises and had confirmed with a Miss Tracey Scabo that she had not returned to her apartment.

‘We went to her place a couple of hours ago,' he told Joe. ‘It was tidy but empty. The bed hadn't been slept in, there was no coffee in the pot. My guess is the woman has bailed – probably scared those Asian Boyz who popped her a few weeks ago might come back to finish the job.'

And Joe sensed that was exactly what Deirdre McCall was fearing.

‘You got anything else you wanna tell me that might help with my investigations, Lieutenant?' asked Lopez, obviously curious as to why Joe had been less than forthcoming in regards to his interest in a sixty-something dancing teacher who lived on the other side of the country.

‘We believe we know someone who might have a bone to pick with her.'

‘Anyone I know?' asked Lopez.

Joe almost laughed at the irony. ‘Let's just say the person in question is a man of many talents.'

Lopez said nothing, obviously sensing that Joe would tell him more if he could. ‘I don't mean to push, Lieutenant, but this woman was shot on my watch.'

‘I know, Lopez, and I apologise for the cloak-and-dagger stuff, but if you could keep me posted on your efforts to find her, I promise I will fill you in as soon as I am able.'

Lopez read between the lines. ‘You got a live one?'

‘You could say that.'

‘Would it help if I pulled some of the Asian Boyz in for questioning? I don't have anything concrete on them but I am sure our guys from narcotics could find something to hold them, at least for a day or two.'

‘That would be a huge help,' said a grateful Joe.

‘All right then,' said Lopez.

‘Thanks, Detective,' replied Joe.

‘Don't mention it. You know what they say, one less asshole on the street is . . .'

‘. . . one less asshole on the street,' finished Joe. ‘Keep in touch, Lopez.'

‘Will do.'

‘I'm sorry, David,' said Sara, resting her head against his shoulder. It was late and the air in the room was stagnant, despite the fact that David had opened every window in their apartment to try to give Sara a little relief from the heat.

‘First McCall's disappearance,' she said, referring to Joe's call to inform them of Lopez's communication late this afternoon, ‘and now Katherine. She just didn't want to talk to me. It was so awkward. When we first met I felt like we made some sort of connection, but this afternoon it was like she could not hang up the phone fast enough.'

David understood how Sara was feeling. For days now he had been hoping Deirdre McCall would wake up so that she might provide that desperately needed link between her son Jason and his new identity as Jeffrey Logan – but he never guessed his wish would be granted and then stolen away from him almost immediately, when the obviously terrified woman came out of her coma and literally ran for her life.

Katherine de Castro's dismissal of Sara was a second blow. Joe had been right. While de Castro had made moves to come forward with whatever
she knew, or at the very least suspected, her fear had got the better of her also. She had become yet another victim of Jeffrey Logan's despotism – and another potential ‘life line' who had fallen through the cracks.

‘It's not your fault that de Castro dismissed you, Sara,' said David, pulling her a little closer. ‘I think part of her wants to reach out, but she is just too scared.'

‘She's petrified,' returned Sara.

He felt her nuzzle in to him just that little bit more.

‘I'm sorry, Sara,' he said, ‘. . . about putting you in this situation, only weeks before the baby is due.'

‘And I am sorry for overreacting,' she said, referring to her hanging up on him and their subsequent argument last night. ‘It is just that Logan has a way of getting to me – with what he said about Carmichael and my pregnancy and . . .'

Last night Sara had come clean to David about her discussion with Logan at Quincy Marketplace all those weeks ago. And David had finally told her about Logan's ‘counter-attack' on his own sensibilities – his claiming David had impregnated Sara long before she was ready to put her career on the backburner.

‘And you were being so distant,' Sara went on. ‘I was worried you thought I was not strong enough to cope.'

‘You are strong enough for both of us,' he said.

‘Well, I wouldn't go that far.' She smiled as she held his hand on her stomach. ‘But we have definitely got your back.'

They sat in silence for a while, taking comfort in one another's embrace.

‘We are going to run out of time,' David said after a while, knowing that jury selection would begin next week and his priority at that stage would be making sure they secured the best panel of twelve possible.

‘I know,' she said.

But he did not reply.

‘I want to stand up for Chelsea,' she said then.

David turned towards her. ‘No, Sara. No way.'

‘No, listen to me, David. It makes sense that the children have some sort of independent counsel. I went to see Doctor Taylor this afternoon and she said my blood pressure was back to normal and that all was looking
fine. She now thinks the wait could be longer than we first expected, and that three weeks could well run into four.'

But David was still shaking his head.

‘You know what I'm like, David,' she went on. ‘Sitting at home during the trial will be way more stressful for me than being involved in it. If Doctor Taylor is right, I could be there for all of the prosecution's case, and some of ours as well. You
know
I can be of help. Just my presence in the courtroom – a pregnant woman holding Chelsea's hand – will show the jury that we truly believe these kids can be trusted.'

He looked at her.

‘Besides,' she said, perhaps sensing that in the very least she had his ear. ‘I irritate her.'