It occurred to me as I was driving home after breakfast with Paul.
Rule Investments.
I had heard that name before.
A quick call ensured she would be home so I drove straight to Amelia Webb’s house.
Traffic was light, the morning rush over, and I made good time. The houses grew larger, more spaced apart, as I drove. Amelia’s place was easy to spot, even among the other estates that lined the street. Her BMW was parked in the drive. The Jaguar was gone so I parked the Maverick in its space.
I walked up the steps and rang the bell. I didn’t have to wait long; Amelia opened the door almost immediately, her expression composed, a polite smile on her lips. She wore a light blue blouse that set off her eyes and slacks that seemed tailored to perfection.
“August,” she said. “Come in.”
I stepped inside, and she closed the door behind me. The air was cool, with a faint scent of something floral, probably from the arrangement on the table in the hallway.
“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked, gesturing toward the living room. “Coffee? Water?”
“No, thanks,” I replied.
“Of course,” she said, moving gracefully into the living room where she took a seat on one of the sofas. I chose a chair directly across from her.
“Can you tell me more about your work?”
She sort of leaned back and her eyebrows moved slightly. “My work?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’m a senior vice president and partner at Rule Investments. We–”
“Does your firm have a working relationship with Richard?”
“What?” she said, almost with a laugh. “God no. Of course not.”
“How about Arcadia Investments? Is your firm connected?”
“No, I only know the name because Richard mentioned it a couple of times. The answer is absolutely not, we do not have anything to do with a firm named Arcadia.”
If she was a liar, she was a good one. It seemed like she was telling the truth, but I decided to keep pushing to see what would happen.
“Why are you asking me these questions?”
“You mentioned Rule Investments before,” I said. “Now it’s come up again. This time, it’s being linked with Arcadia, Richard’s mystery client whose physical address is an abandoned field in downtown Detroit. So, I’m asking you again—how was Richard involved with Rule Investments?”
“He wasn’t,” she said, her tone flat but with some energy behind it. “We are an elite firm, Richard… is not on our level. Not even close.”
I studied her face. There was nothing there to suggest she was lying—no twitch, no shift in her posture, just that same steady gaze, but I’d been fooled by less.
“Are you sure?” I pressed, this time going for the glory. “Maybe you and Richard were planning something. Maybe the two of you were going to take the money from Arcadia and Rule and disappear. A few hundred million would be enough for a new life somewhere far away.”
A smile flickered across her lips. She knew what I was doing and once again, I was impressed with Amelia Webb.
“First of all, I have all the money I need. Second of all, why would I want to escape with Richard somewhere? Clearly, we didn’t have that kind of relationship.”
I’d figured that, but it was important to see it for myself.
“At the risk of being blunt, how much money do you have?”
“You mean cash? Assets? Investments?”
“All of it.”
“Somewhere between forty and fifty million.”
Holy shit, I thought.
“Can you show me?” I asked. “Just to put this line of investigation to bed.”
“Sure, come into my office.”
I followed her down a long hallway, past framed paintings and polished side tables, into a spacious study. The room had a high ceiling, bookshelves lining the walls, and a large wooden desk. There was a sitting area with a brown leather couch and chairs. It smelled feminine, like a subtle perfume.
“This is one of my investment portfolios,” she said, pointing at the top of the screen where I saw her name, and then at the numbers on the screen.
There were a shit ton of zeroes.
“This is a balance sheet of my assets.”
It sure was. This house, places in Cannes and Aspen. Artwork. Cars. Jewelry, etc. Another shit ton of zeroes.
“I also have quite a few annuities as part of my compensation package. If you want to see the paperwork on those–”
“No,” I answered. “You more than answered my question.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Come on, August. You didn’t really think I was involved, did you?”
“Of course not. But it’s better to see the truth out in the light than assume it exists in the shadows.”
Amelia nodded in agreement.
“The problem is, there is some kind of connection between Richard, Arcadia and Rule. I just have to find out what it is,” I said. “Can you take a look at Rule on this computer?”
“No,” she said. “The firewalls are extreme. Access is only at the office, on highly monitored computers. But I can check tomorrow morning, see if there is any unusual activity.”
“Perfect. Let me know what you find.”
She showed me out and I wondered if Rule Investments was just another dead end.
It was time to find Richard Webb.