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“Oh, yes. We had Madeline and Win as our guests. Di
“You played late?”
“Until nearly midnight, as I recall. I was ready to drop. Actually thought I was coming down with something, I was that tired. But after a good night’s sleep, I was fine. We had a lovely brunch the next morning.”
“Give your wife a little something to help her sleep,” Eve theorized as they drove to Brooklyn. “Plenty of time to get to Copperfield’s, take care of her. Get to Byson’s, do him, get home. Catch a few z’s, then have a lovely brunch.”
“What did he do with the computers and discs?” Roarke asked.
“Yeah, there’s that. Hauled them home. Probably has an office there the wife doesn’t fool with. Or he rented a place to hold them until he could properly dispose of them. Only one little hitch with that particular theory though.”
“Which is?”
“Robert Kraus has never had a driver’s license or owned a car. Whoever did this had to have private transportation. So he worked with an accomplice.”
“Bullock or Chase?”
“Maybe. Likely. Or someone else in the firm. Cavendish or his keeper. It spreads out, the way I see it. One or more people in the accounting firm had to know what was going on. One or more people in the foundation. One or more in the law firm. You said it was an operation. I’m going with that. Where does the money come from? The funds they’re laundering, fu
“It’s listed as donations, charitable trusts, privatized income. I couldn’t dig deeper without specific names and companies.”
“The fees, the percentages. They’d likely be kickbacks, or hush money to the accountant, the lawyer. We’ll need to follow that, because it landed somewhere.”
The I
They found Kraus in a party of four, on the ninth hole.
“A few minutes of your time,” Eve told him.
“Now?” His brows drew together under a tweed golf cap. “I’m in the middle of a round, with clients.”
“You’ll have to catch up later. Or I could walk along with you,” Eve said obligingly, “and we can discuss the discrepancies in the Bullock Foundation’s account in front of your clients.”
“Discrepancies? That’s ridiculous.” But he glanced at the woman and two men at his tee. “A moment.” He moved to them, hands spreading in apology. His face was full of a
“It’s about a multimillion-dollar motive for murder. Natalie Copperfield came to you regarding questionable accounts in the Stuben and Company file.”
“Stuben? She did not. You asked me if she discussed anything of the sort regarding a client with me, and I told you she hadn’t.”
“The questionable accounts relate to the Bullock Foundation, which is your client. And your alibi for the murders.”
He flushed, glanced around. “Would you mind keeping your voice down?”
Eve merely shrugged and hooked her thumbs in her coat pockets. “If you have a problem with someone overhearing this conversation, we can take it back to Central.”
Looking thoroughly put out, he gestured for them to follow. “We’ll take this to the clubhouse.” Kraus strode off the ninth green toward an open patio under simulated sunlight, and after swiping a key card in a slot, gestured them to an umbrellaed table.
“I don’t know what you think you’ve come across,” he began.
“The laundering of funds through charitable trusts,” Roarke began. “The disbursement of funds claimed as tax exempt to subaccounts, which is then fu
“The Bullock Foundation is above reproach, as is our firm. What you’re saying is impossible.”
“Natalie Copperfield accessed the Bullock accounts.”
“I don’t understand you, and obviously you don’t understand how we run our business. Natalie wasn’t cleared for that data.”
“But you were. They’re yours. Her killer got her home unit, her discs. Got to her office unit and deleted files. But he couldn’t delete all of them, certainly not files that were on record as her clients. She changed the label on the file. The Bullock data was still there.”
“Why would she do such a thing?”
Eve leaned forward. “We’re going to get you cold for money laundering, for tax fraud. You’re going to want to talk to me now, if you want any kind of help with two counts, murder one.”
“I didn’t kill anyone. My God, are you insane?” His hand trembled a little as he pulled off his cap. “I’ve never doctored an account. It’s ludicrous.”
“Your wife states you played cards on the night of the murders until after midnight. And she was extremely tired. She went to bed, giving you more than enough time to get to Natalie Copperfield’s apartment. To break in, to restrain her, torture her, kill her, and take her data unit.”
He wasn’t just pale now, he was gray. “No.”
“From there, to travel to Bick Byson’s loft, struggle with him, stun him, restrain and question him before you killed him and took his data unit. Have you disposed of them already?”
“I’ve never hurt another human being in my life. I never left the house that night. My God, my God, what is happening?”
“So you let Bullock or Chase do the dirty work?”
“This is absurd. Of course not.”
“I’m going to get a warrant for your other files, Mr. Kraus. What you did with one, you did with others.”
“You can get a warrant for whatever you like. You’ll find nothing because I’ve done nothing. You’re mistaken about the Bullock accounts. Natalie must have been mistaken, because there can’t be anything wrong with them. Randall – ”
Eve pounced. “What does Randall Sloan have to do with it?”
Kraus rubbed his hands over his face, then signaled to the waiter he’d initially waved away. “Scotch, straight up. A double. My God, my God.”
“What does Randall Sloan have to do with the Bullock account?”
“It’s his account. It’s my name of record, but it’s his account.”
“Why don’t you explain to me how that works?”
“He brought them into the firm, years ago. I had just come on as a junior partner. But his father wouldn’t allow him to head the account. There’d been some question of Randall’s reliability, his – ah – skills and work ethic. He’s better suited in public relations. But he brought the account in, and I was new. He came to me, asked me… It wasn’t precisely asking.”
Kraus took the glass the waiter brought him, downed a quick swallow. “I felt pressured, and to be honest, I thought it was unfair that he wasn’t given the account. So I agreed to keep my name on it, and he would do the actual business. I’d check the bottom line, of course, every quarter. And if there was any problem, any question, I’d take over. But the client was satisfied.”
“I bet they were,” Eve replied.
“She didn’t come to me. I swear to you, Natalie didn’t come to me about any problems, any questions.”
“Who knew that Sloan was doing the books for Bullock?”
“I didn’t think anyone did. He told me it was just a matter of pride, and I believed him. But he’d never hurt Natalie. She was almost like a daughter to him. This has to be some horrible mistake.”
“Does Madeline Bullock normally stay at your home when she and her son come to New York?”
“No. But Madeline was talking to my wife and mentioned that she loved our home, how welcoming it was, how peaceful. One thing led to another, and they agreed to stay with us. I need to see those records. I’m entitled to see them. I’m sure there’s just some misunderstanding.”