Chapter 41

 

 

 

“Marko says you’re the best partner he ever had,” the heavyset Boston police administrator said.

“Best I ever had, too,” Lyle said.

Although Steve Travanti had gained weight since he moved to Boston, Lyle remembered him immediately. A sweep of light hair across his forehead and a hint of dimples gave him a boyish look, contrasting with his size--and the size of his office. Lyle glanced around the room and realized the guy actually was a big cheese.

“He gave you a big build up,” Travanti said, “but I told him it wouldn’t do any good because I used to know you.”

“That’s what my ex-wife says.”

Travanti was not part of the detectives, but he was responsible for a division that included the crime lab. He surely could help Lyle dig up a little information.

Lyle had arrived in Boston in the evening and had called Travanti first thing the next morning. In spite of Max’s admonition to sit tight, Lyle had immediately used his well-worn MasterCard to buy an airline ticket.

“Marko tell you what I was doing?” Lyle asked Travanti.

“Said you were working for that new amusement park, Nostalgia City.”

“We’ve had a series of sabotage incidents, maybe you read about them.”

“I think so. Didn’t you have a fatal crash?”

“Two of ’em.”

“Marko said your father was also killed. Sorry to hear that.” Travanti’s resonant voice had power, something that probably helped him climb the chain of command.

“That’s right. I think it’s connected.” Lyle saw that Marko must have told him everything, or at least as much as Marko knew. That was okay. If Travanti knew how serious this was, perhaps he’d be more willing to help.

“You working with law enforcement?”

“To an extent. San Navarro County Sheriff investigated the sabotage incidents. But they’re not equipped for something this broad or complex. I need to collect more information. Then we can decide if it should go to the feds, the state, or whomever. Indian reservation land is also involved, so it’s complicated.”

“You’re investigating the FedPat Corporation, right?”

“Yeah, and I’m not supposed to agitate anyone there until we have proof. You know the company?”

“I know of them.”

“They have a financial relationship with Nostalgia City that may be relevant.”

“FedPat is one of Boston’s big corporations. They’re very involved in the community.”

“I read that the current CEO is quite the philanthropist.”

“Donates to a lot to worthy causes. I think my wife met him once at a charity event. She’s human resources VP for a high tech company. Diane and I have lived in Boston for more than six years now. We’re trying to be a part of the community.”

“So here I am to investigate this fine, community-oriented company that I think is involved in corporate blackmail and murder.”

Travanti leaned forward, his arms on his desk. “What can I do?”

Lyle wondered what the transplanted Arizonan would want to do. “I’d appreciate any kind of information you can provide. I already checked with the state insurance division. Not too helpful. Could you find out if these FedPat executives have any kind of a record?”

Lyle handed him a list of six names and titles he’d copied out of FedPat materials. Travanti took the list and stared at it without saying anything.

“I’m not looking for the usual criminal records. Probably none of these people have any. But maybe you could ask around. See if the company has been involved in strong-arm tactics. Insurance companies hire PI firms to work fraud cases. Maybe someone FedPat hired has a history of assault complaints. One of the firms that works for them is Topaz Investigations. I’d like to know anything you can find out about them, too.”

Travanti made a note. “I’ll see what I can do. You’ll have to give me a few days.”

“Sure, whatever you can do.”

Lyle had debated about mentioning Topaz. If the company had hired any ex-cops from Boston, Topaz could have good contacts in the BPD. But time was too short. If Travanti could come up with something for him, it was worth any risk.

***

After he left Travanti, Lyle found himself driving across the Charles River in the direction of Topaz Investigations. Summer had arrived in Massachusetts with a vengeance. Boston felt like Hawaii without the palm trees.

Lyle parked across the street from Topaz and sat in nearly the same space he had occupied during his first visit to Boston. He spent a boring afternoon that told him practically nothing. Sitting there, however, made him feel he had some measure of control over what was happening--to NC and to himself. He still felt responsible for his father’s death. His foolish antics at the customer service office alerted FedPat that he was snooping.

Earlier, Kevin Waterman had told his superiors about Lyle. Those two circumstances, he felt--though he might never be able to prove it--brought the goons to his condo.

When he left Topaz, he drove back toward Peabody and stopped at the library where he logged on to see if anything new had been written about the competition for the FedPat presidency in the past few days. After an hour, he had a collection of recent news reports.

Lyle was focusing on FedPat’s Boston headquarters, but wanted to be near the Peabody offices, too. He checked into a hotel just outside Peabody. That evening he sat on his bed going over everything he’d collected on FedPat, including more reports he’d downloaded and printed at home. If Travanti didn’t come up with any leads, Lyle would need to generate something on his own. He started reading a story from a Boston newspaper. Apparently Stanley Shaw, the FedPat CEO, was playing it close to the vest as to whom he would support as his successor. The business columnist hinted that Bedrosian was the fair-haired boy, but would not be anointed by Shaw in case one of the other two presidents in waiting came up with dramatic and workable plans to boost FedPat’s sagging bottom line. Office politics. It was the same everywhere.

Without any new leads, Lyle was faced with the old problem: Max didn’t want him to alert FedPat--or Bedrosian--by asking questions. This might piss them off to the point they wouldn’t give NC any slack as attendance figures continued to fall faster than an Apollo capsule on reentry. But if the insurance company was behind everything, no one at FedPat would cut Max slack anyway. On the other hand, if Lyle antagonized FedPat, the company’s hit men might respond with a big attack that could get someone else killed. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Regardless, Lyle would have to go on the offensive.