A NICE FUCKING DAY
Trahon had come through. The lieutenant had gotten a warrant for the Viceroy mail drop and Prenn’s apartment, including any computers and files on the premises. It was all tied to the insider trading angle so it wasn’t going to make the security camera footage any more usable, but it was a start. Herron pressed the penthouse buzzer and waited. He nodded at the security guard, who gave him a quick glance before returning to his book. Probably the Bryce kid’s cousin, Herron thought. The video screen came to life, the image swelling like a bubble, then settling on the face of a clearly just-awakened Alex Prenn.
“Yes?” Voice low and raspy with sleep.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Prenn. Detective Herron. Mind if I come up?”
His face was close to the camera, as if he was leaning against the wall. “Actually, this is not a great time, Detective. Would you mind coming back in a couple of hours?”
“Sorry, sir. I’m afraid it has to be now.” He held the folded document up to the camera. “I have a warrant.”
Alex didn’t react to this bit of information except to nod slightly and say, “I see. I suppose you’d better come up, then.” The door to Herron’s left buzzed and he walked through it to the elevator bank.
Prenn answered the door in a thick belted hotel robe and socks. He read quickly through the warrant as he led the way to the U-shaped sofa in the sunken living room. “What would you like to discuss today, Detective?”
“Why don’t we start with Viceroy Interests?”
“Okay, when we went public Viceroy was an active early investor. When things started to go badly they bought up most of the outstanding shares. They basically own Genometry now. Stuck with it. Other than that I’m afraid I can’t tell you much.” Alex met Herron’s eyes levelly.
“Really? That surprises me, Mr. Prenn. You would think you’d have done more research on your largest investor.”
“I tried. It turned out to be very difficult to identify the principals.”
“How far did you get?”
“Hong Kong. That seems to be where they’re based.”
Herron pulled a distressed little notepad from his jacket pocket and started flipping through it. It was an absurd little display, like something out of an old Columbo episode, but it gave him a minute to watch Prenn sweat.
“Right, I thought that, too, at first.”
“At first? So you found something that suggested otherwise?”
Herron pretended to read from the notebook. “Yes. I traced the ownership of the Hong Kong company to something in Lichtenstein called—” here he fumbled through pages again...wait for it “—here it is. Session? No, Hessians Global, that’s it. Any bells, sir?”
Alex pursed his lips and affected a thoughtful gaze, eyes up and left, just where they ought to be if he was searching his midterm memory. A rueful shake of the head. “Sorry, I don’t recognize it.” Cool as a cucumber.
Herron decided to let that one dangle for a bit. He shut the notebook and put it back into his pocket. “Would you mind showing me your office, sir?”
“Of course,” Alex said, standing and leading the way. His office took up almost a third of the upper floor and had probably originally been the master bedroom, Herron thought. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up two walls of the corner room. One side looked out across the Fens and the other down Pond Avenue as it snaked slushily down and around the park, shadowing the stream that bisected it, invisible beyond snowy banks.
An antique table of dark cherry with three large monitors presided over one side of the room while the other was devoted to a wall-mounted plasma, a worn leather sofa and two armchairs. Herron sat down at the computer. The monitors displayed real-time data on several exchanges: New York, London, Hong Kong, Tokyo and a couple he didn’t recognize. He opened a browser window and entered an IP address. The direct socket connection was established and the tech guys downtown took control.
“Mr. Prenn, my people are going to go through your system now. Are there any encrypted or password-protected files?”
“I don’t think so. If there are, the code would be 78374, probably.” He seemed incredibly relaxed. More awake now, almost smirking. They weren’t going to find shit.
“Do you have another computer or a laptop here, sir?”
“Yes, my laptop is downstairs. Shall I get it for you?”
“I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind, sir.”
Alex laughed. “I’m not sure you want to do that, Detective. I promise you I’m not going to erase anything.”
“Just the same.”
Alex led the way down the spiral staircase to the lower level. The downstairs was dark and still, no natural light, just a dull orange aura from recessed lighting in the ceiling, which was lower than Herron had expected. He knew he wasn’t really going to hit his head but felt himself involuntarily stooping nonetheless. There was a hallway with a couple of doors at the far end and long sliding doors all the way along one wall. Serious closet space.
Alex opened the door on the left at the end of the hallway and Herron followed him in. It was even darker in the bedroom, almost black except for a sliver of light coming through the heavy drapes. The room was several degrees warmer than the rest of the apartment and there was a heavy, musky smell. Alex touched a smooth metal plate by the door and the ceiling fixtures came on with a gentle hum, gradually rising to a preset golden glow.
Herron hadn’t realized the girl was there until she sighed drowsily and rolled on her side. She was sprawled on top of the duvet, completely naked except for a black leather strap around her left ankle that was still attached by a steel ring to a length of chain that disappeared under the sheet at the corner of the bed. She propped herself up on one elbow and met Herron’s eyes for a moment before lazily swinging her gaze to Prenn.
“What time is it?”
Eastern European, almost Russian but not quite. Herron was pretty sure she was the blonde from the security video. She was exquisite and utterly unselfconscious. Herron saw the other ankle cuff on the floor at the foot of the bed, attached to a steel rod with some kind of hardware he couldn’t really figure out. She had a series of angry welts across her ass and upper thighs and what looked like faded burn marks on her breast and arm. No track marks, he noticed.
Prenn unplugged a MacBook Air from the bedside table and ran his fingers lightly over the small of her back while smiling at Herron like the cat who just fucked the canary. “It’s early. Go back to sleep. I won’t be long.”
“Good,” she murmured, pulling one of the pillows into her belly and curling up, hair fanned around her head and one leg straight out, pulling on its restraint. Prenn tapped the wall plate again on the way out and the lights dimmed and extinguished.
Upstairs he handed Herron the laptop. “There you go, Detective. Knock yourself out.”
“Thank you. I won’t need it more than a day or two.”
“Good, my whole life is in there.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yes, well, was there anything else you wanted to discuss? I did have some things I really should get back to.” With that smug smirk again.
“Have you seen much of Mrs., rather, Dr. Parrish lately?” Two could play, asshole.
“I speak to Stephanie often. She’s had a bad year and we’re very old friends.”
“I’m sure you’ve been a great comfort.”
Prenn’s eyes blazed for a split second before he regained control. “I’m certain my friendship with Stephanie Parrish is outside the purview of your warrant, Detective. If you’ll excuse me, I am rather tired.”
“Of course, of course.” Herron followed Alex to the front door. He tapped the laptop. “I’ll be sure to get this back to you as soon as possible.”
Prenn didn’t answer but pressed the elevator button and leaned against the doorframe, fully back in character, the louche rake, Teflon. As the elevator door slid shut, Herron stopped it with his hand. He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t resist.
“By the way, I met your stepmom the other day. She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?” He pulled back his hand and the door slid shut. Have a nice fucking day.