“These are police. Mr. Banks . . . He was murdered!”
“When?” Her eyebrows drew together, more in deeper annoyance than shock.
“Early this morning,” Eve told her. “Thanks,” she said to Devin. “We’ll find you if we need to speak to you.”
“Okay. Aggie, should I contact Mr. Schultz and tell him?”
“Text him.” She shifted her attention to Eve. “Can we make this quick?” she said even as her ’link buzzed. “I’m really busy.”
“And obviously broken up by
the death of a client.”
“He was Mr. Schultz’s client. I barely knew him. I’m sorry when anybody dies, but people do. I’ve got work.”
“Devin said you handled the day-to-day business for Banks.”
She sighed, blew at her fringe of red bangs. “Hold on.” She picked up her ’link, tapped in a code. “Cheryl, I need to forward my tags for the next few minutes. No, I need to.” She tapped something else, set the ’link down.
“Jordan Banks was a pain in the ass, okay? Senior Mr. Schultz dumped him on Tad, his grandson, and basically Tad dumped him on me, but stayed his adviser of record because Banks figured females were for screwing or looking pretty.”
“Banks wasn’t aware you handled his day-to-day.”
“Anything I dealt with for him I dealt with as Tad Schultz. I met with him a few times, but primarily stayed in the background.”
“Did you have a personal relationship with him?”
“Oh hell no.” At Eve’s arched brows she sighed again, looked longingly at her ’link. “He gave me the rush the first time we met, and I blocked it the way I’ve found is most effective. I told him I was gay even though when I actually have time for sex I prefer men. It’s just easier to block a client or an exec by claiming to play for the other team. Nobody gets insulted.”
“When’s the last time you had contact?”
“Well, yesterday. He tried to get to Senior Mr. Schultz or Tad, but he gets forwarded to me. He thinks—thought—I worked as a kind of admin, or messenger service. Whatever. I dealt with it—via text and e-mail. He wanted to sell his recently acquired Quantum stock after the bombing, which was a stupid move. Emotional. Quantum is solid, and that stock was coming back up—which it did, and which I, in a text as Tad, told him. So I saved the client from losing many thousands of dollars, which I guess doesn’t really matter to him now.”
“Did you have many who wanted to sell?”
“Some, and a few of the some refused to listen to me. They lost money. The ones who listened when I said buy now made money.”
“When did you last see Banks?”
“It has to be three months ago. Tad wanted to dump him on me, so he took me to one of the monthly lunches—which he still does to keep Banks mollified. He told Banks I was an up-and-comer and smart as they came—which is true, but he pushed it because he wanted to pass Banks to me. It was pretty clear Banks considered me just the cutest little thing, and that was enough for both Tad and me to decide the shift wouldn’t work, at least not overtly. I agreed to the covert angle.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m an up-and-comer and smart as they come. I’m working my way up, and handling this account, doing Senior Mr. Schultz and Tad a solid? It’s a step on the ladder. Does that cover it?”
“Almost. Where were you this morning between one and three?”
“In bed—alone—sleeping.”
“Before that?”
“I was here until about seven-thirty. I met a client at eight for a dinner meeting that ran until after ten. I went home where my roommate and I—platonic—bitched to each other about our day, then I went to bed.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Before Eve reached the door, Agatha was on her ’link. “Cheryl, I’m back.”
“Redhead,” Peabody said as they walked out, “but not that redhead.”