Chinese Burn Page 6

  "Just keep your mouth shut once we get inside, I'll do the talking," he told Perkins, as they got out.

  The building was a low-slung, two-storey, nondescript brick affair with a flat roof. The windows were clear glass, but bars and shutters were visible on the inside of the second floor. The first floor was a more welcoming affair, with horizontal, wooden venetian blinds tilted to keep out the late-afternoon sun.

  Jobert stepped up to the glass door and rang the bell. The little speaker underneath crackled briefly, and then the door buzzed. Jobert pushed, and in he went.

  "Hello?" said the sweet mid-Western voice, coming from his left.

  Jobert turned and found that he was looking into a neat, minimalist reception area. With a neat, minimalist receptionist seated behind a blond wooden desk that nicely matched her hair.

  "Police," he replied, waving vaguely at Perkins. "I'm here to see Terry New."

  "He's expecting you, come on through."

  "Wait here," he told Perkins, as the receptionist got up and led him down a bland, subtly lit corridor. Jobert counted four doors leading off it. The last two faced each other, and one said, 'Terry New COO' and the other said 'Roger Ravert CEO'. Jobert glanced at Ravert's door, and the blond managed a sad smile.

  "I don't know what will happen to those poor children," she said.

  "Hopefully there are grandparents, aunts, uncles?" Jobert replied.

  "I didn't know him that well," replied the blond, knocking at Terry New's door.

  "Come," said the same deep voice that Jobert had heard on the phone.

  The blond twisted the handle, opened the door and then indicated with a slight nod of her head that he could enter. Jobert stepped into a big open room. The far wall was all glass, the view looking down a low hill over the University campus. In front of it, backlit was another pale wooden desk. Terry New sat behind it, in silhouette.

  "Please, take a seat," said New, indicating the two leather chairs in front of the desk.

  Jobert sat, took a quick glance around him as he did so and registered a wall of bookshelves with its contents piled high and at many angles, a sofa, coffee table, a big TV on the wall behind him and not much else.

  "How can I help you?" said New.

  Jobert was waiting for his eyes to adjust. The room was laid out to give New the advantage in any encounter. The dark corridor giving onto the bright room with the desk backlit — in those first few, vital seconds of any meeting, New had ample opportunity to size up his struggling guests.

  "Like I said on the phone, Mr New, we just have a few questions about Roger Ravert," said Jobert.

  "Of course." New sighed deeply. "This is tragic, and unbelievable, and very sad and so many other things that I don't have words for."

  "How long have you known each other?"

  "We met when we both worked at Intel, nearly 20 years ago now. We hit it off pretty quickly, and both got frustrated by the big corporation culture at about the same speed. We started DeChip together, just the two of us in the early days, and here we are," he waved around him.

  "I saw on the door that you're the COO, Ravert was CEO — did he have a bigger share in the business?"

  New smiled, just momentarily. "No, we ran it as equal partners. Roger was the business nerd, Pure Math at Harvard, then accountancy and an MBA. My background was technology. The split made sense, he ran the business side, and I did the design, manufacturing and all the technology."

  "Friends or just business colleagues?"

  "Now, or then?"

  "Both."

  "Back then, both... but I'd say we were more or less just business partners these days. I had my kids early, before I left Intel. Roger and Madeline only started a family four or five years ago. It means that we've led very different lives and we just grew apart from there."

  "Was he happily married?"

  "As far as I know, but there must be others who were much closer to him who can probably tell you more."

  "Where do we look for them?"

  "I don't think it's here. He used to play a lot of golf, but I think the kids and work took up most of his time these days." New paused. "It sounds terrible but I don't know the answer to that question."

  "It's all right, we have other people to talk to — anything else you think I should know?"

  Terry New looked pensive, then stood slowly, walked to the window and stared out at the view. A handful of fluffy white clouds dotted the horizon beyond the university. He dropped his hands into his pockets, then turned and shrugged. "I don't think so."

  Jobert stood. "Thank you for your time," he started to turn. Then hesitated, "Oh, of course, I nearly forgot — what was he doing in China?"

  New didn't twitch. Just shook his head briefly and said, "I have no idea, he told me he needed a week off and we put the usual measures in place to cover his absence. I assumed he was taking a holiday with Madeline and the kids. The first I knew of it was when I saw the news report this morning. He was on his own out there? I thought Madeline had come back without him, and then..." New tailed off, with a pained expression.

  "We don't think so, but we're still waiting for those checks to come through."

  "Hell," breathed New, "do you think it was another woman or something?"

  "I'd been hoping that you might have been able to tell me that, Mr New. Are you absolutely sure there were no signs that something was amiss?"

  New opened the palms of his hands. "I just didn't spend any time with him that wasn't directly involved with work."

  "So do you have any ideas about what he might have been doing in China, given that he was taking the trip without your knowledge? Presumably it wasn't about work?"

  Terry New looked at him for a long moment, something flickering across his face. Then he sat back down in his chair. "I don't know... I can't imagine. He wasn't much for foreign holidays, I don't really understand."

  Jobert also sat back down in the leather chair. "Are you concerned about competition for your business coming out of China; is there any reason to suspect Mr Ravert of industrial espionage? This is a technology business, right?"

  Terry New held his gaze, and continued to do so as he answered. "We design and manufacture specialist microprocessors, it's advanced technology, and I'm sure many people would be interested in what we do, but I just can't imagine that Roger..." he stopped, apparently unable to voice the thought.

  "It's not Ann Arbor Police Department jurisdiction, but we do have to find Madeline Ravert's murderer and I need a motive for something that at this stage appears motiveless. The death of her husband in China just before her demise here is too big a coincidence to be overlooked. The fact that he visited there without your knowledge is even more suspicious."

  "I see that... but..." Terry New folded his arms and shook his head gently. "He was my partner, and while we were no longer close, we were once good friends. I find it impossible to think that he might do something like that."

  Jobert nodded. "We'll look elsewhere for our motive. But if you do think of anything that might help," he leaned forward and handed over a plain blank white card with his cell number written on it. "That's my personal cell."

  "Of course." New took the card and laid it politely on his desk.

  Jobert stood and headed for the door. "Thank you for your time," he added, as he stepped outside and pulled it quietly shut behind him. He walked slowly down the corridor, processing the interview. The blond was back behind her desk. Perkins lounging in one of the easy chairs provided for people who had to wait, flipping through a National Geographic.

  "Miss..." he started. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

  "That's because you didn't ask me," she replied, with a tart chill in the words.

  "Well, I'm asking now."

  "Bobbi Ilean, with two 'i's"

  "Two 'i's?"

  "One at the end of Bobbi, and one at the start of Ilean."

  "Oh, ok, got it. So, do you know any friends of the Raverts, people who knew them well?"<
br />
  "He had lunch with the same guy every Friday, his name was David, but that's all I know. Mr Ravert didn't share much in the office. He just worked."

  "Did this David guy ever leave a number?"

  "Maybe, but I wouldn't have kept it, it would just be on the chit that goes into Mr Ravert's office."

  "So just David? It's not much to go on."

  "If I knew more I would tell you."

  "All right. So do you just do reception here? There can't be many visitors?"

  "No, I act as PA to both Mr Ravert and Mr New."

  "Did you book any tickets to China for him?"

  "No, but I... I usually do when it's business travel. I had no idea he was even out there."

  Jobert nodded, then looked at Perkins. "We're going to need to talk to people here, just to make sure someone doesn't know anything more." He turned back to Ilean. "The department will be in touch, probably send a detective over tomorrow."

  Bobbi Ilean stood, and smoothed her short, blue skirt. "I suppose that will be ok, perhaps I should check with Mr New?"

  "I'm sure it will be ok with Mr New. He assured me that he wanted to do everything he could to help bring the Ravert's killers to justice." Jobert knew he had done nothing of the sort, but he thought it was unlikely that he would deny it, if he was ever asked.

  Ilean nodded, smoothed the skirt again, and moved around from behind the desk towards the door. Jobert fell in line behind her.

  "Thanks," he said, as she showed them out. "We'll be in touch." He said nothing else until he and Perkins were in the car. "I want you to find Rice," he started, "and tell him to get a detective down here tomorrow. I want them to talk to everyone in that place, and find someone who knew Roger Ravert outside of work. If he has any issues with that, tell him to call me. OK, take me back to my car."

  Once he was in his car, Jobert drove his rental about a hundred yards closer to the entrance to DeChip's car park, and then pulled over. Parked in shadow under an oak tree, he could see anyone leave, without being too conspicuous. It was ten minutes later when the silver Merc came strutting out of the car park, and took a left towards him. Jobert cursed his luck as he slid down in the seat. He let the Merc go by, and counted to three before he sat up and checked over his shoulder. The car was taking another left, and Jobert had to hustle to get going and turned around.

  When he got to the corner, the Merc was just topping a rise about two hundred yards in front, and so he eased on the gas to close the gap a little. When he got to the top of the slight hill, New was indicating for a right into a much busier two-lane highway. The force was with him today, he thought as he made the same right about three cars behind. Jobert flipped out his cell phone while he drove.

  "Wallace, I just saw Terry New. He seems pretty straight up, but he claims that he had no idea that Ravert was in China. He doesn't think his partner was selling technology to the Chinese, so he's either gullible, stupid or a very good liar. We need everything you can find on Ravert, on New and on DeChip; financials, employment records, tax, the works. I want a full brief on it by tomorrow morning."

  "Seriously? I got Nationals tickets..."

  "That ain't no great loss. We need this stuff, something's gone badly wrong here, and I don't like the possibilities."

  "All right..." sighed Wallace.

  "But before you do that..."

  "Jeez!"

  "... I need you to call Hubert at the NSA and tell him that we are doing some highly classified, eyes-only tests on the security at a random selection of defense contractors. He's to try every which way to break into the computers at De Chip. When he's done it, he's to let us know immediately and tell us where the backdoor is — give him a couple of others to do as well, but make sure that DeChip is first."

  "It's pretty risky, if we get caught breaking into—"

  "Forget it, Wallace, this is my call. I'll take the hit if it goes bad," said Jobert, and hung up. He followed the Merc west for about ten miles, when it finally turned off into an area of conspicuously expensive real estate. New's house was a sprawling, colonial-style monster with two wings. He pulled in through the electric gates, and parked outside the big, white, double front door. Jobert drove past without changing speed, and then turned around and went back. He found another spot under another tree, maybe 150 yards away from the gates, and settled down to wait.

  Paul Jobert was bored. And some. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to do a stake-out. He hadn't missed them, and now he knew why. He'd not even been watching for a couple of hours and he was already stiff and uncomfortable. He used to be able to do this for days at a time with only a short walk to pee and grab a coffee and a cigarette.

  The thought stirred some primal reflex and without thinking, he got out of the car. Just as soon as he had done it, he regretted it. There was no cigarette to be smoked, hadn't been for some five years now. And he had drawn attention to himself, so he couldn't get straight back in. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, began to dial and started to walk.

  "How are you getting on with New and DeChip?" he said, as soon as Wallace picked up.

  "A lot better if you stopped interrupting."

  "Quit the whining, you know how unattractive it is."

  Wallace snorted in derision.

  "So?"

  "So, they're in a bit of trouble."

  "I Goddam knew it; Ravert was selling secrets to the Chinese to save his ass! How much trouble?"

  "Mostly taxes on money made in the boom that they can no longer afford to pay with income in the bust."

  "So they can't pay an IRS bill?"

  "To the tune of $56 million."

  "Goddamn," whistled Jobert, "and what's their turnover?"

  "This year, about a $100 million, five years ago it was five times that."

  "What is the IRS doing about it?"

  "I haven't got that far yet, I might have to make some calls in the morning."

  "We've got a motive though," said Jobert.

  "Oldest one in the world, money."

  "Second oldest after sex."

  "Yeah, well maybe that was a factor too," said Wallace.

  "You mean Blackett? It's hard to believe, given her track record, that she's just randomly mixed up in this, but sex... Why would she go for him? Seems more likely that Ravert had lost his nerve and was about to blab. So the Chinese shut him down, and then did the wife to make it look like it was her in some twisted sex or love revenge thing."

  "Lots of possibilities," said Wallace.

  "Yeah, all right; enough guessing."

  "One other thing," said Wallace. "The brass has been around looking for you again, they're starting to ask a lot of questions. I don't know how long I can keep this up, I can't stall them forever."

  "Just keep your head down and your mouth shut. That shouldn't be hard; it's standard operating procedure for an army boy like you."

  "Jeez, Paul, you can be a hard ass."

  "We need more information, keep on it. I'll stay on New until the lights go out, and then grab some sleep; I'll talk to you in the morning." Jobert hung up. And at that moment, the silver Mercedes drove past him.

  "So, what's your name?" asked Sam, settling back against the low wall that surrounded the roof space.

  "Lucy," she said, without looking up from the coffee she was pouring.

  "Lucy, I'm Sam."

  The woman growled acknowledgement, and handed over another mug of strong black coffee, before settling down a few feet away. Sam took it, still watching her new companion. Lucy had barely said ten words since they'd met early afternoon. Now it was a beautiful evening, pleasantly warm after the heat of the day, the sun cooling as it completed its dive to the west. The lights were coming on in the city, and the hum of background noise rising from the streets was comforting rather than intimidating. At least, it was comforting if she was going to stay here tonight.

  Sam was getting mixed messages. After making her a coffee, Lucy had slept — a seemingly trusting action, m
ade less so by the fact that she kept the semi-automatic pistol in both hands. In the end, Sam had slept as well, she was too tired not to. They had only woken when it had started to cool. And here they were. Another cup of coffee. Little in the way of conversation. Sam had to decide whether or not she could trust this woman enough to stay here tonight, and she needed to do it quickly.

  "Thanks for the coffee," she said.

  "Thanks for the food," said Lucy, waving at the empty packets of cookies and nuts spread out on the roof between them.

  "I have some money left; we could go and get something else, something hot, maybe?"

  "You want me to go?"

  "I can come with you; you don't have to leave me with your stuff. I understand... there's no reason for you to trust me."

  "Don't you wanna stay off the streets?"

  A pulse of wariness stilled Sam's movements.

  "I saw you changed your hair color, used the pans back there. It's all over the news channels, they looking hard for you."

  "Looking for me, who?"

  "Sam Blackett, that's you, right? They reckon you killed some guy in China, and then came back here and did his wife in?"

  Sam said nothing.

  "You don't seem the killing kind. And I don't trust the man on them broadcasts further than I could toss one of those fancy flat screen TVs. I'm not turning you in just because some idiot on the TV tells me too. Something's going down, and you don't have to tell me what. I don't really care. If you wanna hole up here till you sort your shit out, that's fine with me. I got my security," she tapped the weapon lying beside her. "I'm not afraid of you. And I'm not doing the man no favors."

  "I don't know what happened."

  "Me neither, one minute I was in the army, riding a convoy into Baghdad a couple of weeks after they took the city. The next I'm in a hospital. Go figure."

  "You don't know what happened?"

  "Airburst, rocked my brain, but didn't touch anything else. I looked fine, but I didn't even know how to wipe my ass anymore."

  "Oh my god."

  "Ordnance will do some weird shit."

  "And they didn't look after you?"

  "Argh," Lucy growled, "they tried, but I couldn't handle those places. I prefer it out here, at least I'm free. I get my pension, I have money, and this life is just simpler. I head south when it gets cold, north when it gets too hot, east or west if I get bored."