Keep Quiet(74)

“No.”

“Did you see what kind of car he drove?”

“No.”

Detective Woo shrugged, glancing again at Detective Zwerling. “Give it up. I’m telling you, I’m right.”

“Give what up?” Jake sneaked a glimpse of the credenza clock—10:59.

Detective Woo answered, “One of the tenants heard Voloshin arguing with a woman last night and saw a brunette leaving his—”

“Richie,” Detective Zwerling interrupted. “Enough.”

Detective Woo fell silent, and Jake remembered that Kathleen’s mother was a brunette. Maybe she had found out that Voloshin was stalking her daughter. But he didn’t know why she would kill him.

Detective Zwerling returned his attention to Jake. “To move on, Voloshin was never married. He had no ex-wife. No kids either. This isn’t confidential, it’ll be in the newspapers.”

Jake faked a confused frown. “But he said he was watching his son at the basketball game.”

“That wasn’t true.”

“So he’s not a dad? He doesn’t have a kid on the team?” Jake recoiled in fraudulent shock. The clock read 11:00. Either the transfer was stopped, or he was dead. The realization stressed him to the max. His heart beat wildly, throwing itself against the inside of his chest, as if it were trying to escape his very body.

“You say that financial planners don’t set up offshore accounts?” Detective Zwerling set down his notebook, laying his pen on top.

Jake tried to recover. “No.”

“So why did he want to meet you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he thought we did, mistakenly.”

Detective Zwerling narrowed his eyes, making his crow’s-feet look even deeper. “But you said he didn’t ask you if you did.”

Jake felt his mouth go dry. “Maybe he decided against it, after he saw the offices or something.”

“But why did he come to you, in particular?”

“Because we met at the game.” Jake struggled not to choke on his words. “I pitched him. I wanted him to come in.”

“Then why would he lie to you about the son, and the ex-wife? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t know. Maybe to fit in, to make himself seem more normal, more like one of my clients?”

“But why? Why you? Did he go to the game to meet you?”

“I don’t know. I am one of the top ten independent financial planners in the region, rated by Barron’s. The other top guys are in Philly and Pittsburgh.”

“So why not just come to your office, like any other client? Why make up some story and meet you at the game?” Detective Zwerling shook his head, his dissatisfaction evident.

“Maybe he didn’t want to wait until Monday.”

“But how does he even know you’ll be at the game?”

“My son’s a well-known high-school basketball player, in the newspapers all the time. It’s a logical assumption I’d be there.” Jake didn’t elaborate. He wanted to keep Ryan’s name out of it altogether.

“Do you go to his games?”

“Not all of them, but this was the playoffs. I go then.” Jake saw a way out. “So maybe Voloshin made it a point to run into me. Maybe he thought he’d feel me out at the game, then he listened to my pitch and decided to come in, but saw that we don’t do the kind of thing he was interested in.”

“Why didn’t he ask you about it then?”

“An offshore account? Would you, if you saw this place?” Jake gestured at the conference room. “We’re obviously not the kind of place that deals in shady offshore accounts. We don’t even breathe that word around here.”

“Hmph.” Detective Zwerling paused. “Anyway, so he expected to come into money. But I don’t know where he expected to get it from. Do you have any idea?”

“No.”

“In your practice, or whatever you call it, how do clients generally come into money?”

“Inheritance, gift, stock windfall. He could’ve even won the lottery. I have two lottery winners among my clients.”

Detective Woo’s face came alive. “The lottery? Whoa! That’s incredible! What’s it like to win the lottery?”

Detective Zwerling snorted. “It ruins your life, right?”

Detective Woo laughed. “Come on, Bill! Only you could find something wrong with free money! It’s the best thing ever!”

Detective Zwerling snorted again. “Be careful what you wish, grasshopper.”

“Winning the lottery can be a wonderful thing,” Jake jumped in, relieved to change the subject. “I’ve seen it change lives for the better.”

“Tell me!” Detective Woo leaned forward. “What do they do when they win? Give a party? Buy a Lamborghini? If I won, I’d take all of my buddies to Cabo!”

“Not on my watch.” Jake managed a smile. “We’d discuss it, but I’d invest you consistent with your goals, and I’d refer you to an accountant, a private bank, and an estates lawyer.”

Detective Zwerling scowled. “And a shrink, because you’ll need one.”

Jake let it go, and the clock ticked to 11:02. Suddenly his phone signaled that a text had come in. He rose and reached for his pocket, looking for an excuse to end the meeting. It had to be Harold or Marie, calling with the best or worst news of his life. “Detectives, excuse me, I was waiting for that text and I need to make a call. We’re finished here, aren’t we?”