Free Saving Jason by Michael Sears Page B

a forbearing smile that held no humor. “What’s your interest in McFee Plumbing?”
    “That’s easy,” I said. “Nothing. Recently, I did request public documents relating to the company, but I have lost interest.”
    “And why is that?”
    “Because my boss told me to hand it over to the compliance department. And that’s what I did.”
    “And Ms. Devane is handling the inquiry at this point?”
    He knew the name of the head of compliance at Becker. He was telling me that he had already done some homework. Larry would have clamped a hand over my mouth at that point and stopped the proceedings. I wanted to push it just a step further.
    “I don’t know what the compliance department is doing. They don’t answer to me. I work for the CEO only. He wanted me to work on something else—unrelated—and that’s what I’m doing now.”
    “And what would that be?”
    “I don’t think I can say at this point. I know of no reason to think the cases are related.”
    “Did you at any time have personal contact with a Mr. Barstow?”
    He used the past tense. That was interesting.
    “Barstow? I don’t think so. Who was he?” I said.
    “That’s interesting. You use the past tense.”
    “Only because you did. I don’t know the guy.”
    “You’re familiar with a financial advisory firm called Peconic Capital?”
    That was the name of the company that traded in the penny stocks.
    “Them I’ve heard of. This guy Barstow? No. What’s this about?”
    He named two other stock-trading firms that I had never heard of. I admitted as much and turned to Brady.
    “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
    Brady had on his poker face. Brown looked over at his partner. None of them liked me asking questions.
    “Hey, if it’s public information, I’m going to find it, right? Why go all cute on me? I don’t know the guy. What else don’t I know?”
    Brady had to clear his throat to answer. “He’s dead. He had agreed to talk to the U.S. Attorney’s Office and go before a grand jury. It’s securities fraud. In return for immunity on the pump-and-dump, he was going to give up his partners, plus the Jersey bucket shop that wasfronting the scam. He also claimed to have something ‘really big.’ He hinted that it had to do with Virgil Becker and his firm. Then, the night before he was slated to testify, he died in a botched assassination.”
    That was a troubling circumlocution. How was an assassination both “botched” and successful?
    Brown didn’t stop Brady from talking, but he was doing his best to send lightning bolts from his eyes. The drive back downtown with the three of them in the car was going to be a tense one.
    “Then, all I can say is that I am so glad not to be involved in any investigation of his firm right now.” I spoke the truth, if only partial. Someone was dead.
Assassination
was the word Brady had used. This was what Skeli was most afraid of, and she was right. If I had any brains at all, I would stay well clear of it. Aimee could take care of it. She’d probably bite the bullets in half and spit them back. I was sure her steel-plated heart would keep her safe. I stood up, walked to the door, and held it open. “We’re done, folks. I am now officially frightened. If that was the point of your visit, you may leave knowing your message was received loud and clear.”
    No one moved.
    “I’m serious,” I said. “If you have anything else to discuss, I’ll give you the name of my lawyer. Set up an appointment and I’ll be there.”
    “We may be back,” Brown said, standing and shaking his suit pants back down over his shoes. “Or we may ask you to come to the U.S. Attorney’s Office to tell your story. You wouldn’t have a problem with that, would you?”
    “I don’t have a story.” Those sirens were back, screaming in my head.
    “Or you could wait and tell it to the grand jury.” He made it sound like the Spanish Inquisition.
    “Talk to my lawyer.”
    “That’s your