CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Nora tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where her mother was reading at the table, nursing a cup of tea. “She’s finally asleep,” Nora said quietly. “She loves The Monster at the End of This Book, but it gets her worked up. I’d rather we stick with Goodnight Moon.”
Teresa smiled. “That one puts me straight to sleep,” she said. “At least I make it through the silly Grover book.”
Nora grabbed a mug from the cupboard. “And you should know that Sophie just told me picture books are getting too babyish for her, now that she’s six. Evidently her teacher reads chapter books to the class. So we’re gonna start the Magic Treehouse series next week. Ma, she’s growing up so fast.”
“They sure do,” Teresa said, shaking her head.
Nora now had her own tea and joined her mother at the little table.
“What?” Teresa asked as Nora sat.
“Whataya mean ‘what’? I can sit and have tea with my mother.”
Teresa beamed at her. “Sophie is asleep and you aren’t doing work emails. So, again, my love, what?”
Nora took a deep breath. “Nick and Vicki are gonna move to Connecticut to be near her family. He told me her dad wants to help me get a job at some hedge fund there in Westport so we can all be close. Lotta money, yada yada.”
“Huh,” Teresa answered. “Whaddaya think?”
“Don’t know,” Nora said. “This is our home, I love my work, but I also think it would be hard on Sophie to have him there and us here. And some extra money would really be nice.”
She paused and took a sip of tea before adding, “You, me, and Soph are a package, so what do you think?”
Teresa sighed gently. “You know I love that part from the Book of Ruth: ‘Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay.’ So that’s my answer. You and that little girl are my life and I will be happy wherever we are, together.”
She put her cup down and looked at Nora. “Hey, now, don’t start cryin’. Let’s analyze it. Maybe you go to the US Attorney’s branch office in White Plains and we live somewhere between there and Westport. That’d make it much easier for Sophie to see her father, and I’ll bet we could find a place around White Plains that we could afford on your government salary—especially if we sell or rent this place.”
Nora looked around the kitchen as she answered. “Maybe. But not a place like this, Ma.”
“Well, what would a job with a hedge fund be like? And what even is a ‘hedge fund’?”
“It’s the name for a financial manager for rich people and things like pension funds. They try to make more money than you would make just passively investing in a market. I know about it from some financial fraud cases I’ve had, but I’m no expert.”
“They pay a lot?”
“Yes. If they’ve been in business for a while, it’s because they’ve made money, a boatload usually.”
“They honest?”
“Some are, some aren’t, kinda like people in general. They’re regulated by the government, which tries to weed out the bad. I’d have to check on the one Nick is talking about. But even if they’re honest, there’s no way the work is as meaningful as what I do. I’m sure they’d want me in some kind of compliance role, helping them avoid doing things that might get them in trouble. So that’s okay, but it’s not like putting bad guys away.”
“So if you went there, we could afford to live close to your work, maybe get a house, be near Nick too. And you know that area from college, right? Isn’t Westport right by Fairfield?”
“It is,” Nora said. “Really nice area.” With a smile, she added, “Of course, it doesn’t smell like coffee, but no place is perfect.”
They were quiet for a moment before Nora continued. “Look, I think the work change would be the biggest hurdle for me. A former boss of mine used to say that what we do has moral content. It’s doing good for a living, or at least it’s supposed to be. That’s why I love it so much. I love being in a place where the only important question is—what’s the truth? Would be hard not to have that.”
Teresa nodded and reached for Nora’s hand. “Whatever you want to do is what I want. And kids are resilient as heck. Even if we have to shuttle Sophie between here and Connecticut a bit, she’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
Teresa flashed her own smile, an exact copy of her daughter’s. “Meantime, I’ll get on Zillow and see what’s what around Westport and how much these hedge-fund people would have to pay you for us to live in the style to which we’ve become accustomed.”
“You do that,” Nora said, returning the smile.
The digging took months. They couldn’t prove Conor tipped Gina to The Nose’s attempt to cooperate, but they made progress on the dinner order. Tony Burke’s dinner had indeed come through Seamless, the popular food-delivery service in Manhattan. The company found an account opened in Burke’s name and billing to his American Express. But Burke didn’t have a Seamless app on any of his personal devices, and an examination of his computers didn’t turn up any orders.
Seamless was finally able to provide them the computer IP address from which the Wagyu coffee-rubbed strip-steak order had been placed. After weeks of work, they determined the computer bearing that IP address had been located at the time in the member library of the Yale Club of New York City, a private club in Midtown Manhattan. The last piece fell into place when they obtained location data for Conor McCarthy’s cell phone on the evening Burke was killed. He was at the Yale Club.
Nora made an appointment to go see Conor at the temporary transition offices of New York’s newly elected governor, Kyra Burke, who had ridden a wave of publicity and sympathy to victory in November with Conor at her side, although usually far enough away to be out of any camera shot. There was talk that she may be America’s first female president. And it could be a family contest because her former stepson, Edward Burke, was another early presidential favorite.
The transition offices were high in a Midtown office tower on Sixth Avenue, across from the flagship New York Hilton. Conor greeted Nora and Benny with a practiced smile, explaining as they walked to his office that these were exciting times. He was even helping Kyra redecorate the executive mansion in Albany, although he expected they would be spending most of their time in Manhattan at her place.
“Wait,” Nora said when they were inside the office, “you and Kyra are an item?”
“I’d prefer not to discuss my personal business,” he said calmly, “if you don’t mind.”
“What happened to Edward Burke?” she asked. “I thought he was your guy.”
“Have you met his mother?” Conor asked, raising his eyebrows. “There’s only room for one person behind that throne.
“But enough about me,” he added, “you didn’t say what this was about.”
Benny took that. “Yeah, Conor, here’s the thing. We had a conversation with Gina about you.”
As smooth as he was, Nora could still see his jaw muscles squeeze at that.
“And she had some interesting stuff to say,” Benny added, before laying out what Gina had told them.
When he was finished, Conor literally batted it away, flexing his hand and swinging his arm in a backhand motion. “Oh please, the desperate lies of a convicted mass murderer. Surely you aren’t taking anything she says seriously?” He ended by pushing air between his pursed lips, making a puhhh sound.
“Yeah, well,” Benny responded, “Gina does have her baggage. But there’s one thing you could help us with that doesn’t come from Gina.”
“What’s that?” Conor asked.
“Did you order the steak dinner that was delivered the night Burke was murdered?”
He answered without hesitation. “Yes, I did.”
Conor smiled tightly, holding the grin for a beat before answering. “Why? Because the governor wanted me to. That’s why.”
With that, he stood quickly and said, “And that completes our interview. If you’ll show yourselves out, Governor Burke and I have a great deal to do for the people of New York.” He stepped past them and disappeared into the warren of cubicles.
They sat in stunned silence.
“Which governor, you motherless fuck?” Benny asked the empty room, pushing himself up out of the small side chair.
“I’ve never known what that charming phrase means,” Nora said as she stood, “but—motherless fuck.”