Live and Let Die

What does it matter to you
When you got a job to do
You gotta do it well
You gotta give the other fellow hell

 

Trixie blinked her eyes and squinted at the police commissioner. Despite pouring the largest cup of coffee into her body that she could purchase at this early hour, she still felt the lack of sleep. She blinked again and almost swore she was looking at her old compatriot. Commissioner Steadman bore an uncanny resemblance to Sergeant Molinson from the Sleepyside Police Department. Maybe they’re cousins, she thought. She moved to elbow Jim and had just opened her mouth to ask him if he saw the similarity when the Commissioner began to speak.

“Later,” she whispered to Jim, in answer to his questioning squeeze of her arm.

The press conference was short. Clearly out of deference to the Rockefeller and Beckhart families, the commissioner’s statement expressed condolences and indicated the police would be working vigilantly to apprehend the killer. He took only a few questions from the press.

“Do the police have a suspect in custody?” A polished reporter from the local NBS news affiliate asked.

“No, although we are currently following several promising leads,” the commissioner responded. He held up a hand as the reporter moved for a follow-up question. “As I indicated in my opening remarks, I will not discuss any leads we may have. No information related to evidence will be released by the department at this time.”

The next question concerned the funeral arrangements. The commissioner deferred to the spokesman for the family. Trixie was not surprised to see that Charlie Prescott was serving that role for Reid.

“Arrangements will be announced to the media when they are finalized. In the interim, the family of Allison Rockefeller Beckhart requests your respect during this time of tragedy.” Charlie spoke clearly and with great gravity.

Reid Beckhart stood stoically behind him, flanked by his daughter Beth and a couple that Trixie surmised were Allison’s parents.

The final question dealt with Allison’s cause of death. Once again, the commissioner refused to answer, citing the ongoing investigation. Trixie admired how he maintained his composure as the press threw questions at him.

“Once again, no information related to evidence will be released by the department at this time. In a moment, I will give a closing statement and then we will need to proceed with clearing this street so we do not inconvenience the residents who need to leave for work, school or other obligations. It’s time for us to let this family get back to their private period of mourning.” He waved an arm at Allison’s family, who stood several feet away behind Charlie. “Allison Beckhart was inside her home when she died. Her body was discovered by family members around 10:30 yesterday evening. The family is cooperating fully with our investigation, but there is no doubt that we are dealing with a homicide. Now, get on with your stories and get this street cleared before I have my officers impound your vehicles and start issuing citations.”

Commissioner Steadman turned to shake hands with the family and the members of the press corps began to disperse, many of them asking questions of officers who were standing at the perimeter of the conference site.

“Learn anything?” Jim asked quietly. He had watched her more than he had watched the commissioner. Her eyes were constantly scanning the audience as if she were searching for someone.

“Not really. He gave them confirmation so they can run their stories on the early news reports. There will be enough leaks to keep speculation at a high level.” Trixie shook her head and waited for the crowd to clear. “There were enough of the media here.”

“You ready to leave?”

“Not just yet,” she hedged, biting her lip. Her gut was churning and she had hoped to catch Charlie’s eye.

A moment later, she nudged Jim as her gaze followed a disheveled reporter with a beat-up backpack and three cameras slung around his neck. “Say, Jim … does that guy look familiar to you?” Trixie nodded toward the individual lumbering away from the scene of the press conference.

Jim gave an intent look at the man before grimacing. “That’s the reporter for The Squawker. You remember the guy who took our picture kissing on the street.”

Trixie’s mind flew back to the night in question and she recalled both the precise moment Jim was referring to, and the subsequent picture. Fleetingly, she wondered if the two of them would ever find the time to be together without some kind of interruption. Jim’s next statement brought her back to the moment.

“He’s the guy you and Dan questioned. Remember, he’s going to be taking pictures at the fundraiser. That was the deal you made with him.”

Trixie’s eyes narrowed and she watched until he was out of sight. She couldn’t squelch the feeling that his presence at the press conference was significant, and she found herself wishing she had called Sean and Amy. They could have tailed Walt Tyllman to see if he hooked up with someone. She turned to look at Jim. “Not him, his employer. Well -- not his employer, the company that buys his pictures, The Squawker. But, I didn’t make that deal, you and Dan did!” She frowned as she corrected him.

“Beatrix.”

Trixie jumped. She had let the sight of Walt and those memories he recalled distract her. She whirled around to see Charlie standing behind them.

“Listen, Bea. I only have a couple of minutes. Reid doesn’t need to be left alone with his in-laws or else there may be another crime here, but I need to talk to you.” He shot an apologetic look at Jim. “Do you mind giving us a minute? It’s work or otherwise it wouldn’t matter.”

Jim nodded and moved down the sidewalk, out of earshot.

“Did you get my message?” Trixie asked. “I told you we’d be here.”

“Yeah, I saw you searching the crowd. See anything of interest?”

“Not really. One sleazy paparazzi but I’m sure you expected that. What’s up?”

Charlie rubbed his hand along his jaw. He needed to shave and mentally added it to the list of things he had to take care that morning. “Reid told me you had figured out he knew who broke into his system. It was Allison. He confronted her about it last night. That’s why she wouldn’t attend the skating event with him and Beth.”

Trixie nodded. Charlie had confirmed what she had surmised: Allison Beckhart was somehow involved in this case.

“The police are going to spend some time chasing down Reid, making sure he didn’t hire a hit on his wife.”

“Why?”

Charlie blanched. He shifted his feet and then shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “It looks like a professional hit.”

“How?”

Charlie swore softly and shook his head. “Um, like you see in the movies and television programs.” He gave her a beseeching look.

She reached out and touched his arm, understanding his reluctance. “I need to know.”

Charlie gulped as he shifted his feet uncomfortably. “What the detective said was the killer used a small caliber weapon, with a uh, double shot to the back of the head. She was killed instantly.”

Trixie’s horror-stricken eyes met Charlie’s and she saw the genuine grief in his blue yes. Taking a fortifying gulp, she pressed ahead. “But you believe Reid. Why?”

“Because I know him. There’s never been anyone else for him. He protected her and this is how it ended up.”

“But I don’t know him.” Trixie paused and took a deep breath. “My gut tells me you’re right, but a professional hit, there’s no way that the police won’t chase down every phone call Reid received and made, and every email he has sent for the last year. It’s going to be expected. They’ll have to do it.”

“But you don’t have to do it,” Charlie interjected. “Beatrix, Reid’s got a couple of things going for him. He knows about Allison breaking into his system. He has an alibi. And the evidence doesn’t add up. Allison had to let this person in. Someone turned off the house alarm.”

“Why couldn’t Reid have turned it off when he left?”

“Dammit, Beatrix! You’re talking just like them!”

Trixie shook her head. “I was one of them, Charlie, remember? I know how they’re trained to think.”

“So you’re not going to help me, then?” Charlie slumped and looked down at the ground, as he shoved both hands into his pockets.

“I didn’t say that,” she chided. “I told you my gut says you’re right.”

“You mean you’ll take the case? You’ll work with me to find the real killer. You know we’ll pay top dollar.”

Trixie nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can find out.” She wasn’t able to tell Charlie she’d be investigating whether Reid and Charlie hired her or not. “You can tell Reid this one’s on me.”

Charlie shook his head. “No, I need you working for me. So anything you find out is covered under privilege.”

Trixie understood. At the same time, she knew better than to tie her agency’s hands with attorney-client privilege. “Can we wait and see?” she asked. “I’ll turn over what I find to you, but for now, I’m not sure I can agree to be bound by privilege. There’s already the previous internet intrusion on the fed’s books with me reporting it.”

Charlie yanked his hands out of his pockets and waved them in frustration. “Dammit, Beatrix. Are you on our side or not?”

“You know I am!” she shot back. “But I’m not going to be bound to keep things a secret that Reid might not want turned over to the police just because of negative publicity or something. I’m almost positive that Allison’s been blackmailed and that’s going to be key to my investigation. If I find some kind of embarrassing pictures or something, I’m not going to be taking them to the nearest gossip magazine, but I will insist that the police are informed of who was blackmailing Allison.”

“Fair enough.” He extended his hand and they shook on it. “Beatrix, I hate to ask this but what I really need is a personal favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“I understand you’ve moved into some new office space.”

“Yeah, a couple of weeks ago.”

“The story is you’ve got some empty offices.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I’d like to sublet them from you.”

“You want to rent office space from me?” she squeaked.

He nodded. “I know it’s an imposition, you might have files or something in them, but I know where your offices are and, well, it’s the perfect location. Ellie and I need a place to work. We can’t work out of my apartment, it’s just --” his voice trailed off for a moment. “It’s just that I need to separate my work life from my personal life.”

The silence grew as Trixie digested the information. She was leery of the arrangement simply because she valued her team’s privacy. But at the same time, she knew the offices were located on the other side of the conference rooms, kitchen, and bathrooms. It could work.

“Look, if it’s too much to ask, I apologize for bothering you.”

Trixie grabbed Charlie’s arm as he turned to walk away.

“No! Wait! I was just wondering if you would let Ellie answer our phones?”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “How many calls do you get?”

“Too many,” she grumbled. “That’s the problem. Freeman can’t ever get anything done for answering the phones.”

“Well, that would apply to Ellie too, wouldn’t it?” he reasoned.

Trixie nodded glumly. “Yeah, I guess so.” She took a deep breath. “You can use the offices. Let me know when you’ll be by and someone will be there to show you the setup.”

“Thanks, Beatrix. How about you let me hire a service to answer the phones for both of us? Would that work?”

Trixie chewed her lip. “Do you think they could ask the right questions to filter the calls like we need them?”

“Yes, I think they could. Your associate and Ellie could train them.”

“Okay, then. Do it. “

“One more thing, Bea,” Charlie shuffled nervously. “Can Ellie and I start moving our stuff in today?”

 

 

“Thanks for coming in,” Trixie said to Sean and Amy who were hanging up their coats minutes after they had pushed through the doors of the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency. “I know you were both looking forward to having the weekend off.”

“Yeah, but we understand.” Sean spoke for both of them. “Are you ready to fill us in?”

She nodded. “Lock the door behind you and let’s move to the war room. I picked up some doughnuts and the coffee’s ready.” Although, it was before noon on Sunday and Trixie hadn’t slept since Friday night, she noticed that Amy brushed non-evident dust from her chair before sitting and grabbing the keyboard controls to the monitor.

Once the group settled around the table, each with a doughnut and coffee in front of them, Trixie briefed her team on the information Charlie Prescott had shared with her in the early that morning, along with the additional details she had gleaned from her connections with the Bureau. One phone call to Chief Walker had been all that was necessary for the NYPD to agree – albeit reluctantly -- to share information with the CIB. Agent Leon Tibbs had been designated as the Bureau’s liaison officer to the New York Police Department for the case.

“But you haven’t told us any of the details,” Sean protested. “What kind of gun? What time? The forensic evidence is non-existent. How are we supposed to find her killer?”

“We’re not,” Trixie answered. “The police will follow their leads and find the person who killed Allison. Our job is to find out who was blackmailing her to open the security hole at B3. We want the terrorists. The police get the murderer.”

“What if they’re the same?” Amy asked.

Trixie shrugged. “They get the murder one charge, if they can make it stick.” Trixie noticed the look of disgust exchanged between her team. “Our mission is to stop and apprehend a terrorist cell operating in this country, a cell that is using our economic structure against us to illegally obtain controlled technology. The New York Police have the mission to solve crimes. Let them take the lead on this, we’ll be privy to all their findings and we get to focus on what’s really going on here. We know the opening was used against Fireking to no avail. Why?”

“I still don’t understand why the police get the credit if we locate the murderer,” Sean protested.

“Because that’s the deal!” Trixie snapped. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a few seconds and then exhaled slowly. “It is what it is, Barnes. We’re not going to change that. We need to focus on the things the police won’t be focusing on for weeks.”

Sean nodded. “Got it, boss. You said Reid confirmed he knew Allison hacked his system and he confronted her about it that night.”

“That’s correct. Reid admitted he had a huge fight with Allison before the gala. He accused her of tampering with his systems and asked her what she was trying to do. He and Chris had figured out that she had to be the one messing with the system security.”

“But you don’t think he killed her over it?” Amy asked in a tone that clearly indicated her hesitancy in accepting Trixie’s assessment.

“No, I don’t. I think that whomever she was opening up the systems for killed her. While the police are saying the death occurred in a four-hour window between six and ten, it was likely sometime after eight. The housekeeper’s statement indicates she spoke with Allison shortly before that time.”

“That gave her plenty of time to call her blackmailer and let him or her know they’d been found out,” Sean pointed out. “You don’t have any details about outgoing calls?”

“The police report indicates none from the house or Allison’s cell phone.”

“Could she have had another phone? A burn phone?” Amy asked. “That would make sense. The killer could’ve taken it with them.”

“Could’ve been an email as well,” Sean offered, giving Amy an admiring glance. “Did they check emails?”

Trixie shook her head. “They have her computer, but as far as we know they’ve not found anything.”

“Damn, I wish we had the computer.” He drummed his fingers on the table as if he were punching keys on a keyboard. “The Bureau has way better resources than the NYPD on that front.” He shook his head, a dismal frown on his face. “We can work calls made from the area in that time frame, but it’ll be tough to narrow it down. We may be better off pursuing other angles. You confirmed that Reid has an ironclad alibi. He’d have to hire someone to take care of her. If he was going to do that, why get into a fight with her right before it was going to happen? I take it that someone overheard the fight?”

“You got it. The housekeeper and a maid both overheard the argument. Apparently Allison is quite shrill when she’s upset.”

“But no one heard a gunshot?” Amy asked.

“Not from what I’ve been able to ascertain. The police haven’t shared that information with me if there was, but if it was a pro….”

“Where did you get the preliminary information?” Sean interrupted.

“For the most part, Charlie Prescott. Reid called him after he called the police. Reid and Charlie want us to start our own investigation into the murder.” Trixie paused and took a deep breath. “Charlie’s going to be using a couple of our offices for the time being.”

“What!” Sean made a movement to stand, but Trixie waved him down.

“Charlie’s going to use those extra offices for a while. He hasn’t found office space yet and he needs a place to work. He needs offices for himself and his secretary. You know we don’t need those extra offices. All we’ll have to share are the restroom, the kitchenette, and that one conference room.”

“But, Boss –” Sean stammered in his surprise. “Charlie’s dad is one of our suspects in this case. You’ve even had Charlie on the list. His girlfriend is still on the list.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Trixie interrupted.

Sean waved an impatient hand at her while Amy watched both of them, seemingly fascinated by the exchange. “Mox nix. You know what I’m saying.”

Trixie made sure Sean was finished before she answered. “This murder changes everything, Barnes. Our focus has to be on B3 software. We’ve confirmed they were hacked, we believe they have a research and development project for random access encryption, and don’t forget about their own ORCHID project. Besides, when all is said and done, there was no way I could refuse Charlie. It would have looked odd if I’d accepted the case for the agency, but told him he couldn’t use two empty offices!”

Sean started to spout an answer, but Trixie’s hard stare stopped him. “He’s going to get someone to answer our phones so we can fully utilize Freeman.”

Amy immediately straightened at this announcement. “You mean I get to get off desk duty?”

Trixie nodded. “He said some training would be needed, but after that, he’d have a receptionist for both of us who could handle the phones and Ellie could be the backup.” She quirked a questioning brow at Sean.

“Okay,” he admitted. “I get it, but I don’t like it. Can we put some extra security on our war room here?”

Trixie looked around in bewilderment. Amy had made sure the room was soundproof and installed state of the art biometric locks. “Uh, sure,” she stammered. “Just let me know what else you want on the room.”

Amy broke the tension between the two agents. “You said you received your information primarily from Charlie Prescott. If Reid didn’t kill his wife or have her killed someone else did. If it’s her blackmailer, how do we figure out who that is?”

“If there’s a blackmailer,” Sean interjected. “Are we certain she wasn’t doing this for monetary gain on her own? Maybe she has a lover?”

“The thing is -- I can’t find any valid reason for Allison to sell out her husband’s business. It supports her lavish lifestyle and keeps her in the manner to which she was accustomed. All without calling on her own personal trust fund,” Trixie explained. “But if someone who was working with terrorists knew something about Allison and was blackmailing her …”

“What makes you think she could be blackmailed?” Amy leaned forward with interest.

Trixie pushed a hand through her curls. “A couple of months ago, Charlie mentioned that he had been caught in a situation trying to protect either Reid or Allison, or maybe both of them, from some major gossip. His own reputation was shredded, but no one suspected Reid or Allison in the incident. Charlie wouldn’t tell me what happened. He said it was protected under attorney-client privilege.”

“And now, do you think he’d spill?”

Trixie shook her head. “No, it happened too long ago and he’s anxious to protect Reid now, more than ever. But there is someone else out there that I think knows what happened.”

“Who?”

“Kitty Buchanan.”