Kat followed Zachary through the heavy wood doors that guarded Nathan’s office. She had timed her visit for after-hours so it wouldn’t raise suspicions among Edgewater’s employees.
A massive, richly carved mahogany desk dominated the center of the room. To the left, built-in bookcases overflowed with leather-bound volumes and more recent hardcovers. In the right-hand corner, a dark brown leather sofa and chair faced a table with an alabaster chess set. The wall above was lined with pictures encased in heavy wood frames. The windows were framed with partially closed, heavy damask drapes.
Despite being twenty floors up, Kat felt transported to the study of a nineteenth-century country estate. The air carried the faint scent of cigars. Even with Zachary’s presence, she felt uneasy, like she’d trespassed into a hunter’s lair. A hunter who might return at any moment.
Kat’s shoes sank into the thick Berber carpet as she wandered over to study the pictures. Nathan Barron was in every one of them. Various locations, poses, and locales, but they all involved Nathan posing with something he had just shot or speared. Mostly bears, lions, other cats. A predator among predators.
Kat moved down the wall to the last picture, which judging by the frame, was the most recent. A stocky sixty-year-old man stood beside a hippo. Shirtless, wearing just khakis and a rifle slung over his shoulder. With a grin that said top of the food chain. It sent chills through Kat.
“Last year. Selous Reserve. Tanzania. It’s considered poaching to kill a hippo, but he doesn’t care.”
Kat jumped at Zachary’s voice, then recovered. “I’ve got to ask the obvious. Why would a billionaire steal from his own company? He doesn’t have to do this.”
“Simple. Nathan’s a cheap bastard. Edgewater is fifty percent mine. If he pays through Edgewater, he gets a fifty percent discount.”
“And risk going to jail?” Kat didn’t buy it. Something more than money was driving the fraud. “Why? He’s already got more money than he can spend in a lifetime.”
Kat sat down in Nathan Barron’s chair, trying to get a feel for a man she hadn’t met yet. The desk surface was bare, save for an empty inbox and a telephone. It contrasted with Zachary’s office, where disorganized stacks of paper and three computer screens competed for attention.
Kat opened the side desk drawer. She pulled a thick sheath of papers out of a manila file. She studied the top sheet, a spreadsheet. A series of numbers were added and subtracted in each of about a dozen columns.
She flipped through the pages underneath. They were all in the same format, only the headings and numbers were different. “What’s this?”
“I don’t know,” Zachary said. “Yesterday was the first time I’d been in here. He always keeps his office locked.”
“You don’t have a master key?” Odd that Zachary, as co-owner, wouldn’t have keys to every office. She turned her attention back to the first spreadsheet. Heading each column was a set of initials and numbers. It was a code of some sort. If so, it must be cryptic for a reason. What did Nathan Barron have to hide?
Zachary shook his head. “Nathan had a special lock made for his office door. I brought a locksmith in yesterday to make me a key.”
Kat set the spreadsheet aside. She had arrived at Edgewater almost two hours ago. Before searching Nathan’s office, she had reviewed all checks issued from Edgewater Investments itself and from its hedge fund, Evergreen. It had been strange to look at them, as many carried Victoria’s signature—she’d only left the company’s accounting department upon formal separation from Zachary. Aside from the usual payments for expenses like rent, office supplies, and payroll, Kat noted some very large invoices and cancelled checks for investment research. She pulled the file with the documents from her briefcase and handed it to Zachary. “What do you know about these?”
Zachary sat down at his father’s desk and opened the file. He sifted through the first few pages. “Research Analytics? Never heard of them.”
“Shouldn’t you know about them?”
Zachary looked up from the invoices, clearly puzzled. “Why would I?”
“They’re Edgewater’s biggest expense,” Kat explained. “They provide research analysis on currency, your area of expertise. Shouldn’t the name be familiar to you?”
“You’re right. But it isn’t.” Zachary unlocked Nathan’s bottom drawer and tabbed through the files.
“May I?” Kat exchanged places with Zachary and powered up Nathan’s computer. She attached a portable hard drive to the computer and mouse-clicked to start copying Nathan’s files. While she waited for the data to copy over, she pulled the files one by one from his desk, searching for more clues. Other than his files and office supplies, the desk drawers contained a few credit cards and some loose change. She wasn’t too hopeful—Nathan hardly spent any time at the office. That likely meant he had very little on his computer.
After Nathan’s files had successfully copied onto her portable hard drive, she clicked a few of them open one by one. Nothing significant jumped out, just a few marketing letters about Edgewater’s fund performance.
Zachary stood behind her chair as she closed the last file. “Nothing?”
“Nothing. But there’s one more place I’d like to check.” She opened Nathan’s email and accessed his contact list. Hundreds of contacts came up, in stark contrast to the paucity of computer files. She scrolled down the list, noting billionaire philanthropists, royalty, and heads of state. Nathan moved in a rarefied circle.
Near the bottom of the list something caught her eye. A group listing under W for something called the World Institute.
“Zachary, what’s the World Institute?”
He leaned closer and squinted at the screen. “World what?”
She clicked open the entry to reveal a list of names within it. “This World Institute group listing—ever heard of it?”
“Not sure...I think it’s some sort of global think tank Nathan belongs to.”
“What exactly do they do?” She scanned the list. Current and former heads of state. The head of the International Monetary Fund—along with members of at least two royal families.
“Something to do with currency theory, I think. Nathan mentioned it once or twice, back when we actually spoke to each other.”
“Currency theory—wouldn’t that interest you?” Why didn’t Zachary know more about something clearly related to his field of expertise?
“Not really. I trade currency—I don’t theorize about it. Theory is for academics.” He rested his hand on the back of her chair as he scanned the list of names.
Kat scribbled a note to herself to find out more. She disconnected her hard drive and placed it in her briefcase. She’d sift through the remaining records byte by byte back at her office.
“Look at this.” Zachary bent over and plucked a paper out of Nathan’s waste paper basket. “He’s not even hiding it.”
Kat studied the paper.
“What’s wrong with a flight to London?” It was a travel itinerary. A flight and six nights at a luxury hotel.
“For starters, he’s supposed to be meeting with our New York bankers, London’s got nothing to do with our business. Of course, he doesn’t care about that.”
“The lines between personal and business travel sometimes blur. That’s common in family business.”
“Family business?” Zachary spat out the words like poison. “We’re family in name only.”
“The flight was yesterday. Any idea what’s going on in London?”