Tess and Po knew they were being followed, and their pursuer knew that they knew it but followed anyway. At a base level it felt incredibly immature to Tess, but all involved were in a similar position where a certain amount of professional pride was at stake. The guy in the van made no pretence at subtlety, staying always in their rear-view mirror, and Po showed none of his usual verve when driving, so there was little chance of inadvertently losing their pursuer in the heavy traffic. Once, when a red light was against their tail, Po pulled in to the side of the road and waited until the van was moving again. Unerringly they led the van across Boston towards his company’s office. Tess wondered if the guy had figured out where they were going yet, and if he was pissed that he’d been made so easily, or if he was more sanguine about it. A quick check of Po found his mouth turned up at one corner and his eyes twinkling in humour. He was enjoying himself, even if she weren’t: being the prey in a cat-and-mouse game was never her preferred role. Before returning to the Mustang, Po had again suggested dragging the man from his van and forcing answers from him, and it was enough for Tess to frown and mutter about having to work with a barbarian for him to drop the idea with a nod and grunt of mirth. He had only partly been joking. In truth, Po’s headlong style had proven its worth in the past; he’d forced answers where her investigative skills had come to a roadblock, but under these unusual circumstances she felt they should err on the side of caution. There was more to Aaron Lacey’s disappearance than it seemed, and who knew who was in the wrong. As she’d cautioned earlier, their pursuer could be one of the good guys, and beating him up would do nothing for her sense of being on the side of the angels.
While Po led the van across the city, Tess keyed up some programs on her tablet and set them running, based on the information received from Stella. She’d also brought up a GPS application on her phone, and it directed Po towards a tower block overlooking wharfs where the Charles and Mystic Rivers spilled into Boston Harbor. It was prime real estate, and the expensive vehicles parked in its private lot reflected the cost of hiring Elite Custodian Services’ services. Po pulled the Mustang into a reserved parking spot, with no regard for the rules. He looked at Tess. ‘I ain’t minding the car this time,’ he said.
‘I don’t expect you to,’ she replied, as she unsnapped her seatbelt, ‘but let me do the talking.’
‘Never was my intention to talk.’
Tess exhaled through her nostrils. ‘Please behave yourself.’
He aimed a grin at her. ‘There’s no need to fret. This is still your gig, Tess; I’ll be the model of integrity.’
‘Do you even know the meaning of the term?’
‘Sure I do. You’ve rubbed off on me these last coupla years; was a time when I might not have restrained myself back there.’ He thumbed over at where the van had come to a halt on the street. The driver remained inside, obscured behind the tinted windscreen.
Po had a point. During their first case together they’d picked up a tail in Baton Rouge, and his instinct was to leap on the hood of their pursuers’ car and try to punch through the windscreen. He’d advanced a long way towards being civilized since then. She reached over and gently gripped his wrist. ‘Don’t go losing all your brutish charm,’ she told him, and he returned her smile.
As she strode for the entrance, Po made it his business to backpedal a few steps, aiming a jaunty salute at their observer. He sensed the fuming response of the guy behind the tinted glass, and grinned. He turned his attention back on Tess. ‘Betcha he’s on with his bosses right this instant warning them we’re coming.’
‘Good. It means we won’t get the run around for having no appointment.’
Her words proved prophetic. As they pushed inside the foyer, a young man glanced up at them from behind a podium. He wore a navy blue blazer over a pristine white shirt and maroon tie. His black hair was neat to the point of severe, combed from a razor sharp parting to one side. His eyebrows had been sculpted and his flawless complexion might have been enhanced with cosmetics. He was a non-aggressive first point of contact for potential clients, but he was still a security guard. He opened his mouth to greet them, but halted when a phone rang. He made a polite apology with a flash of his pearly-white teeth, and answered the phone. His conversation was brief, coupled with glimpses at Tess and Po, before he set down the phone. ‘Nicolas Villere?’ he asked pointedly of Po.
‘Yup, that’d be me,’ said Po, giving no hint he was surprised how quickly he’d been identified. Tess wasn’t the only one who could run plates through a system: that their tail had run a similar search on his Mustang stood to reason. It was all part of the game of one-upmanship they’d been involved in.
Nevertheless Tess sniffed in annoyance, and made a point of approaching the podium ahead of Po. ‘I’m Teresa Grey, a private investigator. Mr Villere is my associate. I’d like a word with somebody in charge.’
The guard glanced at Po, who gave a flash of his teeth in response and hooked his thumbs in his belt. The young man transferred his attention to Tess. She stood close enough to rest her elbows on the podium to return his perusal, but kept her arms by her sides. ‘Umm, Mr Holbrook is expecting you,’ said the young man. ‘If you’d like to come this way.’
As he stepped out from behind the podium, his gait was stiff, and his tailored black trousers hitched below one knee. He was an amputee, an ex-service man perhaps who’d lost a limb but been given a second chance by the bosses of Elite Custodian Services. He led them towards a door, through which he swiped them with an electronic key card. Beyond the doors was a set of two elevators. Even as they were let through, one elevator door swished open, and disgorged an older man and a middle-aged woman.
‘Thank you, Harris, we’ll take things from here,’ said the older man to the guard. He was short and stocky, his shoulders straining his tailored suit. He wore his steel-grey hair high and tight, as many veterans did even after retiring from the theatre of war. His perusal was quick and astute, spending the briefest of times on Po – weighing and judging him – before he switched to Tess and offered her his outstretched palm. Tess ignored it. ‘I’m Ben Holbrook,’ he announced, ‘it seems we might be working to a similar end, but have started off on the wrong foot.’
‘You mean you have one of your investigators following us, under some illusion we can lead you to Aaron Lacey?’
‘Yes. Exactly that.’ Holbrook squeezed out an apologetic grimace. Alongside him, the woman remained silent, staring at Tess over the bridge of a large hawkish nose. In a plain black dress and her hair pulled back under an Alice band, the woman was as ascetic as a nun, and radiated similar assuredness in her faith: in her case it was that Tess was below her contempt. Tess raised her brows in question. The woman misread her meaning.
‘Seeing as Ben has been remiss in introducing me, I’m Clarissa Glenn, a business partner with Elite.’ She disdained to offer her hand, only inclined her chin to indicate she’d said enough. Clarissa’s upper-class British accent rang false to Tess.
As they rode the elevator to Holbrook’s office Tess made the introductions, adding that they worked for a specialist inquiry firm engaged by the District Attorney in Portland, Maine.
‘You’re not here in Boston at the DA’s behest, though,’ Holbrook stated as they alighted the elevator and crossed a corridor.
‘You know we’re not. We are here at the request of a private client—’
‘Estelle Dewildt,’ Holbrook finished for her, as he ushered them into his office. It was surprisingly utilitarian, but commanded a prime corner position that overlooked the harbour. ‘She has engaged you to find her father?’
‘I think we’ve already established that,’ Tess said.
Holbrook opened his hands wide. ‘Then we shouldn’t be at odds with each other. We all want the same thing.’
‘Do we though?’
‘I’m sorry? Aaron Lacey was a valued employee.’
‘The point is, your reason for wanting him found might not be the same for Stella. She’s only concerned with his welfare.’
Holbrook and Glenn exchanged glances, and something guarded passed between them. Holbrook seated himself behind his desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket for comfort. Glenn moved away and rested her backside on the edge of a second desk. Tess and Po waited. The atmosphere was thick enough to chew on. Finally Holbrook broke the silence. ‘We are also concerned for his welfare. As I said, Aaron Lacey was valued … is valued … and we’d be a poor example as employers if we didn’t care about his welfare.’
Tess laughed.
‘You don’t believe me?’ Holbrook appeared genuinely affronted.
Po still stood just within the open door, one ear on the elevators behind him. Tess wanted to do the talking but he was his own man. ‘Buddy, do you believe we are cabbage coloured?’
Holbrook frowned at the unfamiliar term.
‘What my associate means is we aren’t gullible,’ Tess explained. ‘You know as well as we do your interest in Lacey’s whereabouts has nothing to do with his welfare. You don’t put a surveillance team on his daughter except for one reason: you hope she’ll lead you to her dad. It’s why you informed her he was missing in the first place, expecting her to have some way to reach out to him. Well, here’s the rub: Stella’s as much in the dark as you are. She has no idea where he is, so there’s no point following her. In all likelihood she’d have informed you the minute she heard he was OK, but not now. I’m going to ask that she cuts all communication with you, and also demand that you pull your team off her immediately.’
‘A fair response, but not necessarily the best one,’ Holbrook said.
‘Not the best for you,’ Tess corrected.
‘We’re all looking for the same man. If we were to share information, help each other out, it could prove mutually beneficial …’
Before he was done speaking, Tess shook her head at the suggestion. ‘Why do you really want to find him?’
Holbrook again exchanged a glance with Glenn. Without rising from her perch, the woman said, ‘We are not at liberty to say.’
‘I thought that might be the case. It also confirms that an interest in his welfare’s the last thing you have in mind.’
‘And what do you think gives you the right to march into our office and start making absurd accusations?’ Glenn snapped.
Tess ignored the question, answering with one of her own. ‘Why has Lacey run away?’
Holbrook raised a palm. ‘It’s as Clarissa says, we can’t say. We have a responsibility to protect the confidentiality of our clients. Let’s just say that – with one such client – Aaron Lacey’s disappearance has caused us some embarrassment. We’d like to find him so that this matter can be resolved without injury to our reputation.’
‘What did he do?’
‘You are persistent,’ Glenn snarled.
‘I’m a detective.’ Tess aimed a snarky smile at the woman.
‘Then detect,’ said Holbrook, and again he raised a palm to forestall an angry response. ‘Elite specialize in close protection work, our agents are skilled, but not in an investigatory capacity. I said earlier that we could work in a mutually beneficial manner. Find Aaron Lacey for me and I’ll double your usual fee.’
‘No,’ said Tess. ‘A conflict of interests would exist. You said this was about protecting your reputation; what would going behind our client’s back do for ours?’
Holbrook smiled to himself. Testing her loyalty, her moral centre and her professional ethics? ‘I didn’t expect you to accept,’ he said, ‘but I’d like to think that we can work separately without impeding each other.’
‘Tell the bozo in the van to stand down,’ Po drawled, ‘and the girl who followed Stella. If I come across either of them again, impeding them will be the least of it.’
Glenn snorted. ‘First it was unreasonable demands, then accusations, and now threats?’ She eyed Po sternly, her lip curled at what she found. ‘You are very confident. You don’t look like a military man; in fact, I’m unsure what exactly you look like. But ask anyone that has served and they will warn you that overconfidence can prove fatal.’
Tess exhaled sharply. ‘Now who’s making threats?’
Glenn’s nose wrinkled in distaste. ‘Just call it a word of caution.’
Before either woman could continue, Holbrook stood, raising both palms in a sign of surrender. ‘I think we should all take a deep breath before we continue. None of us wants things to turn ugly, do we?’
Po squinted at Clarissa Glenn’s twisted face. ‘Bit too late for that, bra.’
Holbrook’s lips twitched in humour, but he carefully avoided looking at his business partner. If anything her hawkish face had grown more severe, her dark eyes resembling glistening marbles. Holbrook came out from behind his desk, and made no secret of urging Tess and Po towards the exit. He kept an amiable tone, but it was apparent he would brook no further animosity from either of them, and their briefest of meetings was over. Tess was happy enough to leave, as she was of the opinion she’d learned more from what Elite Custodian Services refused to disclose than anything they’d said. However she stood her ground a moment longer. ‘We don’t have to be at odds,’ she reassured him, ‘but only if you allow us to get on with our job without being spied on. You leave us, and Stella, be, and you won’t get any trouble from us.’
Holbrook nodded, but refrained from a verbal agreement. He aimed a hand at the elevators. ‘Harris will see you out.’
Tess and Po entered the elevator. Before the doors closed on them, Tess eyed Holbrook as he stood in his office doorway, Glenn behind him. ‘One last question?’ she said. ‘You said you care about the welfare of your employees: would that also extend to Ethan Prescott?’
A shadow passed behind Holbrook’s features, but he managed to hold his poise. ‘I’m sorry? Who?’
The doors slid shut, but Tess had no intention of continuing that line of questioning anyway. His reaction had told her everything. She looked up at Po. ‘Well, I think we’ve established that Ben Holbrook and Clarissa Glenn are liars.’
‘Yup.’
‘And Lacey’s disappearance is down to them.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And Elite Custodian Services are desperate enough to hide something that they’ll also cover up their connection to the death of another of their employees.’
‘You only have Stella’s word that Lacey worked with a guy with the same name as turned up dead.’ Po gave a brief shrug. ‘OK, so it’s more than a coincidence. The thing is, did they put Prescott down, or d’you think Lacey smashed his skull?’
‘Both scenarios are concerning.’
‘If it’s the latter, you still set on helping find him?’
‘I’m not going to judge until I learn the truth.’
‘And what then?’
‘I couldn’t say. Let’s just concentrate on finding him first.’
‘Sure thing.’
‘The problem is, he could be anywhere …’