Afternoon sunlight streamed through the fifteen-foot windows as I moved forward.
“Everett,” Richard Michelson said as he stood and extended his hand.
Taking his hand and giving it a quick shake, I nodded before taking the seat beside him. The aroma of the flowers on the table between us was overpowering. I’d ask Miss Guidry to trade them for something less fragrant once this meeting was over.
“I’ve been meaning to get back to you,” Michelson said, resuming his seat.
Taking a breath, I leaned against the antique chair and released the button on my suit coat. “I expected this situation to be cleared up much sooner.”
“It has barely been a month. You know there’s a shitload of bureaucracy that requires time. I told you it was a new member on the force—”
I lifted my hand. “Honestly, Richard, I don’t give a shit what it took or takes. Don’t bore me with the hows or excuses on the whys. I called you here today to have you tell me that it’s settled. From what I’ve heard, all the evidence is pointing toward suicide.”
Michelson stood and paced a small trek over the Persian rug. That simple piece of floor covering cost more than Michelson made in two years on his prosecutor salary. It was also nearly as old as me. Watching his worn brown loafers go back and forth was wearing on my nerves.
He nodded, definitive nods, the kind people made when they weren’t comfortable with their answer. “You see, itissettled...well, almost.”
I motioned toward the chair. “Richard, sit. This isn’t an inquisition. I would simply like to understand your definition ofisandalmost.”
Instead of sitting, Michelson walked to one of the large windows and peered out onto the gardens beside my home. “Remember,” he said, “when I mentioned a legal filing I’d helped with when I first started practicing law?” On the final word, he turned back.
“I recall you saying something about an old story from around the time when you were fresh out of law school.” I lifted my eyebrows. “How long ago would that be?”
I anticipated the answer. It was twenty-six years ago, Emma’s age.
“It seems like a lifetime. I suppose it was.” Michelson’s head shook as he resumed his seat. “Everett, I can’t tell you more.” His gray eyes looked up. “I want to. I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“The Underwood case is about wrapped up. There was another woman; her name was very close to Underwood’s business partner...Oberyn. There’s still no sign of the O’Brien woman. Oberyn’s alibi during the time in question has been verified. The thing is, Everett, she and Underwood had a history. Hell, he wouldn’t be the first man to pop some extra pills because of heartbreak.”
It hadn’t been my go-to story, but if it worked...
Richard continued, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his voice filled with concern. “The weird thing is that Underwood had an influx of cash from an undetermined off-shore account deposited into his account the morning before he arrived in New Orleans.”
That wasn’t news to me. I’d authorized the transfer. “Any idea where it came from?”
“Our guys have been searching, but so far, we’re coming up empty. In reality, it isn’t our biggest concern.”
My eyebrows rose. “Then why mention it?”
“You see, the homicide department has this new guy—woman actually. She spent over ten years in Atlanta working cybercrime. Her aspiration is the feds. You could say she is more forward thinking.” He looked up. “What do you know about cryptocurrency?”
I scoffed. I knew more than I wanted to share but less than I could explain. “Richard, if you’re going to give me a test, you could have at least given me some time to study.”
Michelson was out of the chair again. “That’s the thing. Hell, we may never find the source of the off-shore deposit. We know it came from a shell company out of Switzerland via the Caymans. There are numerous shell companies. It probably can be traced back to Delaware. They really need to do something about the ease of shell...”
He waved his hand. In the sunlight, I saw how the stress he was under showed in his expression, the furrowed brow and lines at the corners of his eyes.
“If it weren’t for my family,” he said, “I’d personally do a tour of all the places that money bounced around. I could use a vacation.”
“The cryptocurrency?” I asked.
“Our new lady figured out that Underwood had a Kraken account and has been receiving influxes of Bitcoin for roughly eighteen months. The currency has sat untouched, and in today’s market, it has grown exponentially. Now he and Emma O’Brien had a startup company—literature, editing, hell, I don’t know. Anyway, according to everything we’ve seen, the two of them were in the market for investors.” His head shook. “It doesn’t make sense. Hell, Underwood could have subsidized the entire thing, and then let it die for a nice tax write-off. Maybe that was his plan.”
“He had the money to support the company on his own?” I asked.
“What if Miss O’Brien figured it out?” Richard asked. “What if she realized he was using her to watch her fall?”