City of Vice: An Ava Gold Mystery (Book 6) by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2022-10-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

As Ava and Pawlowski entered the Second National Bank, another detail of the case occurred to Ava. It was quite obvious and in realizing it, she was ashamed for nearly missing it completely while they’d been back at the Perkins’ residence. By Perkins listing each of his hidden transactions separately and then referencing another checking account, she assumed it meant that his hidden money wasn’t being directed towards investment; from the way it looked, based on what they knew, it was being funneled into a secondary account. An account he’d been keeping up with in the secondary checkbook.

This did put a dent in the investment angle of the case, but Ava also knew it would be a mistake to rule anything out before speaking with the bank.

In her hurry to get to the counter and ask to speak with a manager, Ava nearly overlooked the quiet and morose atmosphere in the bank. It was a grand building, well-decorated, giving off the feeling of wealth and comfort. But at the same time, there was a pallor in the air that was unsettling. It was more like walking into a funeral parlor than a bank. Ava wondered if it was the same in all banks across the city as a result of the crash.

The detectives approached the first available teller, a woman that smiled widely but looked as if this might be the last place on the planet she wanted to be. “Can I help you ladies?”

“We’d like to speak with a manager, please.”

The teller nodded politely, probably relieved that she could pass them on to someone else. “Give me just one moment, please.” She stepped around the counter and marched out of the lobby, down a hall to their right. After disappearing into a door roughly halfway down the hall, she entered a room. Several seconds later, she came back out, that same smile on her face, and waved them on to follow her.

Ava and Pawlowski headed in that direction, passing by the teller as she headed back for the counter in the lobby. When they came to the door, they found it open and with a rotund, short man sitting at a large, cluttered desk. His office was decorated almost like a living room, comfortable and stylish. He beamed up at them, adjusting a pair of bifocals that sat slightly crooked on his nose. A small placard on the side of his desk read: Donald Whetley.

“Can I help you ladies?” he asked.

“I hope so,” Ava said, slightly lifting the box she’d been carrying the entire time. As she sat it on the edge of Whetley’s desk, Pawlowski took the opportunity to show her badge.

“I’m Officer Pawlowski, and this is Detective Gold,” she said. “We’re looking into a murder that we believe has been set up to look like a suicide. We believe we may have found enough evidence in the victim’s financial records and work correspondence to further the case. But we need some help in terms of the financial records and checking accounts we’ve come across.

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