CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

They found Rob in his office, packing for his trip.

“Hey,” Laslo said, “can we grab you for a few minutes? I know you’re headed out of town tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Rob said, gesturing toward the empty visitor chairs. He wheeled himself behind the desk. “Shoot.”

Laslo pointed at the microphone in the ceiling. “Are we on or off?”

“Oh, off,” Rob said, before adding in a whisper, “I had it disconnected long ago. Purely decorative at this point.”

“Got it,” Laslo said, turning to Benny. “You want to start?”

“Sure,” Benny said, “and obviously we don’t wanna embarrass you, but Helen gathered some stuff about your health and family struggles. Were you aware of that?”

“No, I wasn’t,” Rob said, “although I think it would have been obvious to those closest to me that I was having a hard time a while back.”

“Do you remember talking to her about it?”

“No.”

“So I’m guessing she never brought it up in a way that felt like she was holding it over you.”

“You’re correct. She never brought it up and we never discussed it.”

Rob paused, before adding, “Look, she was nothing but supportive of me. I have this charity, ‘Dustoff Home’—named for the military term for a medical evacuation helicopter. It’s about helping disabled vets make the transition to a healthy life back here. We raise money for training, housing, and medical support. We give them mentoring and connect them to jobs. Lots of our best people at Saugatuck came to us that way. Helen was one of our biggest supporters and not just with her money; she helped hire people here and made sure they succeeded. She was kind and really made a difference.”

“So why do you think she kept those files?” Benny asked.

“I’m not sure,” Rob said. “A reasonable guess would be that it was some kind of rainy-day fund, that she would draw on to protect herself or people close to her. Look, I’m not here to judge her or defend her, but the financial industry is particularly inhospitable to women, especially at senior levels. So it’s not wrong to think she needed to have an edge to survive, and that this was her edge.”

As Benny made notes, Rob added, “But I’m just speculating.”

Benny looked up when he finished writing. “Okay, so tell us about this front-running investigation. What was it and where did it stand when Helen was killed?”

“We do periodic audits to be sure that we’re getting what is called ‘best execution’ on our trades. That means that the brokers we use to buy or sell are doing it well—getting us the prices we expect, charging us the fees we agreed to, ensuring people can’t tell it’s us making the move.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Benny said, “but can you explain front running in a simple way?”

“Sure. It’s a very specific and hard-to-see type of insider trading where someone steals the knowledge of your trades. Easiest way to explain is by imagining an ordinary stock transaction. If Saugatuck plans to buy a bunch of shares of XYZ company, that’s going to cause XYZ’s stock price to rise after the purchase. Maybe just a little, but it will affect XYZ’s price. If somebody knows we are about to make that purchase, they can buy XYZ just before we do and make money when our purchase moves the stock up. Then they can sell their XYZ and cash in.”

“Got it,” Benny said.

“And I’m using a simple example but there could be front running on all kinds of transactions. Knowing what a big player like us is about to do is valuable information.”

“Copy that. So what was the investigation about?”

“Okay, back to the periodic audits of trade execution. Those reports showed that, in tiny ways, we didn’t seem to be getting the best pricing. Just before some of our transactions, there were little market moves that were unfavorable to us. Maybe luck, maybe not, but we saw it happening enough that Helen wanted to look into it. Brad Holtzer started the investigation, then Nora picked it up after she got settled.”

“And where was it this fall?”

“I’m not sure of the details, but Helen and Nora both believed it was happening and it could be an internal leak. ‘The call was coming from inside the house,’ as they say.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Seemed unlikely to be from our trading team because they’re so closely monitored. Maybe from research or account management, but they only know the general moves we plan, not the details a front runner would need about when and where. So I don’t know. One possibility they were considering was a penetration of systems done through our data center, but I don’t think that panned out.”

“Data center?” Benny asked.

“Okay, now you’re gonna get more than you asked for,” Rob said with a smile. “I’m a geek, so stop me when I give you too much. A company like ours has to have a backup for all our systems, in case the primary ones fail because of a storm or we get hit with some kind of ransomware attack that locks up the primaries. That’s a fairly common thing, so companies rent space at data centers that serve as backups.”

“With you so far,” Benny said, although he had stopped trying to write it down.

“We need the data center to be far enough away so it doesn’t face the same risks from stuff like hurricanes or earthquakes, but it can’t be too far or we won’t have synchronous replication with the computers in Westport.”

“Okay, stop right there,” Benny said. “Isn’t that a song by The Police?”

“Hah,” Rob laughed. “Excellent pop culture reference. That’s Synchronicity. I don’t know what the hell Sting meant by that.”

“I do,” Laslo said. “Bit of a fan, I have to admit. It was Carl Jung’s term for things that seem causally connected but really aren’t—coincidences, for example.”

“Wow,” Rob said. “I’m gonna use that. But ‘synchronous replication’ means the backup is close enough that the speed of light doesn’t make a difference. You see, our client and trade information in the backup has to be identical in all respects to the primary; even a small time difference created by light having to travel on a fiber-optic cable more than fifty miles would defeat synchronous replication. If that happened and we had a failure in the primary, we actually wouldn’t know whether a client’s account in the backup was accurate. Real disaster. ‘King of Pain,’ if you will.”

“Bam,” Benny said. “Okay, my head hurts, but I’m hanging with you. And so?”

“And so, we found a data center—actually I found it—in New Milford, about thirty miles north of here. It’s over the hills and far enough away that it doesn’t share Westport’s risks to stuff like storms, but it’s close enough that we achieve the magical, uh, synchronicity.”

“Got it. So why would the data center be a place somebody could steal trade info from?”

“Because it’s in a remote place and lots of other companies rent space there too. The security at ours is really good—which is one reason I chose it—but you’d have to put it on the list of places where there might be a weak spot. But, like I said, I don’t think Helen and Nora found any problems there.”

“Where did things stand on the front running then, as far as you knew?”

“Although the outside firms had largely been eliminated, the suspect list was still big. We couldn’t find anything to help narrow it down—it could be one person or a few people working together. We had no good leads, but the numbers revealed that something shady was still happening. I think they were about to go more overt with the investigation and start pulling camera footage, access logs, stuff like that. They had asked me to put together lists of people with broad enough access to be suspects. Up to that point, they had tried to avoid making that kind of noise, because even rumors about front running would hurt us with clients and damage our reputation.”

Benny leaned in close and spoke quietly. “Come on, you guys musta had some suspects? Who’s top of your list? No, actually who was top of Helen’s? ’Cause that mighta gotten her killed.”

Rob made a sour face. “I have been wracking my brain and wish I knew the answer to that question, but the potential list includes most of our company.”

“Well, it’s most likely someone in her files and when she got too close they found out and killed her,” Benny continued. “Murder is almost always about love, money, or secrets—different kinds for different classes of people—but always comes down to the same shit.”

“I hope you’re wrong,” Rob said, “because then it’s my fault for not helping her and Nora find answers sooner. I hope it’s about her files and not the trading thing.” He looked down, then up at Benny, tears filling his eyes. “Helen was a complicated person, but a wonderful one. We all miss her.”

“Hey,” Benny said quietly, “I’m sorry to upset you. No doubt Saugatuck people loved Helen. We’re just tryin’ to figure out who the fuck killed her.”

Benny paused as Rob wiped his palms down his face. “Okay, we’re almost done here,” he said, “I gotta go back to the files business. Did you pull anything out of Helen’s files when Tracey left them in your office before she gave them to Nora?”

Rob shrugged. “Why do you ask that?”

“ ’Cause there was a lot more shit in your file than there is now and we know you had access to them before Nora got them. You got anything to do with that, this’d be a great time to tell us.”

The room was quiet for five seconds before Rob answered. “I’m an asshole,” he said, reaching for one of his desk drawers. “I did. When Tracey left them, I took a look at my file and”—he pulled out an inch-thick stack of paper—“she had all this nasty shit about my struggles. So I yanked it. I shouldn’t have and I’m so sorry if I’ve caused you or Nora any heartburn.”

He put the stack on the desk in front of Benny. “But when you look at it, I think maybe you’ll understand why I pulled it.”

“Why do you say that?” Benny asked.

“It’s the medical records of my breakdowns, and details about me stealing drugs and being strapped to a bed in a diaper at the lowest point in my miserable life. What’s she need that stuff for? What’s anybody need to see that stuff for? But I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have.”

“So you were lying when you said you didn’t know anything about Helen’s files?”

“Yes, although it’s true I didn’t know she kept them until Tracey told me. But I gave you a bullshit narrow answer, because I didn’t want to tell you what I’d done. Again, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate that,” Benny said. “You look at any other files?”

“I did not, although I’m not sure why you would believe me at this point.”

“So where were you the night Helen was killed?”

“Home. I know there was the usual Sunday night gathering at Compo Beach. I remember an all-employee email saying that it was the last company-sponsored sunset of the season.”

“Company sponsored?” Benny said. “Ya gotta love the private sector! So we’re talkin’ free food and drink for everybody?”

Laslo jumped in. “Yep. Pretty great spread. Pizza from Angelina’s. Awesome wines. I try not to miss them.”

“Yeah,” Rob said as he slapped his palms down on the two wheelchair armrests. “Except I miss them all because beaches are not my thing, for obvious reasons. So I was home. Don’t remember what I was doing; probably working or reading.”

“Ya got somebody who can verify that?” Benny asked.

Rob paused. “I don’t think so. I live alone and don’t remember any calls that night. But maybe. I’ll check if you need me to.”

“Maybe when you get back,” Laslo said. “We’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure you have a lot to do before the trip.”

He turned to Benny. “Let’s roll.” The moment he said it, Laslo blushed and turned to Rob. “Oh, dude, I’m sorry—”

Rob laughed. “Oh come on, man, if we can’t talk about rolling around me, life will be dull as hell. You roll. I’ll roll later. Life rolls on.”

“That check out with what Nora told you?” Laslo asked as they walked down the hall.

“On the front-running investigation? Yup. That’s exactly what she said.”

“What do you make of his messin’ with the files?”

“Concerning,” Benny said, “but understandable, and he gave it up without too much pushing. So, ‘I don’t know’ is the answer, but there’s a whole lot of people on my list above his name, I’ll tell you that.”

“Yup, I’m afraid it’s gonna get messy now.”

Benny smiled. “Probably, but that’s the fun part. Bad cop gets a lot of playing time.”