The Fregoli Delusion by Michael J. McCann Read Free Book Online Page A

her partner,” Horvath said.
    “You handled it well,” Hank said.
“You got her outside and away from the others. How was Carleson about it?”
    “He’s cool. He’s with Jarvis but
still one of us, if you know what I mean. He won’t trash her behind her back.”
    “I want you to come with me over
to Jarrett Tower and help Stainer execute the warrants.”
    “Sounds good to me.” Horvath
looked down at his feet. “But first I need to pick up another pair of shoes.”
    Hank smiled faintly.
    They turned their backs on 1437
King Street and walked away.

 
    6
    They were met in the lobby of
Jarrett Tower by Midtown district Sergeant John Graham, a stocky, square-jawed
cop with the demeanor of a Marine Corps gunnery sergeant. He explained that
officers were currently deployed on all floors of the building occupied by
Jarrett Corporation staff, including floors one to four and fourteen to
twenty-one. The other floors were leased out to other tenants. The top floor,
Graham explained, was reserved for the CEO and his executive assistant. It was
accessed only by an express elevator requiring a pass code and an escalator
that ran between the twentieth and twenty-first floors. The express elevator
had been shut down and the escalator was under their control, so Jarrett’s
floor was sealed off. The uniformed officers would stay put in the building,
Graham said, until the lieutenant said otherwise.
    Hank nodded.
    Graham was known affectionately as
Johnny Go. As a patrol officer he’d been saddled with the nickname Johnny Gofer
because of his willingness to run errands for other people, but it had been
shortened to Johnny Go when he became a sergeant because he was constantly
urging the patrol officers in his care to strive for bigger and better things.
Hank knew him more by reputation than by experience, as Johnny Go had been
Karen’s mentor when she was wearing a uniform as a young officer. She never
tired of telling stories about him.
    “Stains is in the twentieth-floor
board room right now,” Graham finished, “busting some guy’s chops. I just came
down from there.”
    Hank and Horvath rode an elevator
to the twentieth floor, where they were met by a redhead in her early fifties.
Tall and slender, she wore a pink jacket-and-skirt outfit with a string of
white pearls. Her skin was pale and her eyes were blue.
    “You’re Lieutenant Donaghue,” she
said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. “I recognize you from the news
reports. I’m Marjorie Kelly, Mr. Jarrett’s executive assistant. You can call me
Peggy.”
    Hank shook her hand. She had a
firm, business-like grip.
    “Mr. Parris and several other
chief executives are downstairs right now holding a press conference,” Kelly
explained. “We’re announcing that Mr. Parris will assume the responsibilities
of interim president and CEO until a permanent succession is finalized. Our
stock price is taking a hit right now, and we’re trying to control the
bleeding.”
    “I understand,” Hank said. “I
appreciate your cooperation.”
    “Your detective’s in the board
room at the moment with Emory Raskin, our general counsel. Emory had a few
concerns about the warrants, but if I’m not mistaken the detective was more
interested in his whereabouts this morning. When I left, he was answering a lot
more questions than he was asking. If you like, I can show you the way.”
    “In a moment, thanks.” Hank had
spotted Tim Byrne coming up the corridor.
    “We’re well underway,” Byrne said,
his pig eyes flicking from Peggy Kelly to Hank. “Stainer explained the facts of
life to their lawyer. She’s in the board room with him right now.”
    Hank glanced at Kelly, saw her jaw
muscles tighten, and realized she was suppressing a smile. “Thanks, Tim.”
    “We’re processing the office and
board room on the twenty-first,” Byrne went on. “I’ve explained to Mrs. Kelly
we’ll need everyone’s fingerprints for reference purposes. Might be an issue
here on