The Executive Murder by Paul Austin Ardoin

Author:Paul Austin Ardoin [Ardoin, Paul Austin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pax Ardsen

Chapter Fourteen

Kep handed Bernadette a folder. “You can go through this one.”

“I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

Kep pulled out his phone. “Take pictures of each of the files. We can upload them to an online file storage system and analyze them later.” He bobbed his head at the door. “See if there’s a good overhead light in here.”

Bernadette took the folder from Kep and stepped over to the door. A bank of four light switches; she turned them all on. Harsh fluorescents flickered on in the ceiling, and Bernadette squeezed her eyes shut at the sudden brightness.

“Excellent,” Kep muttered, holding his phone steady above the open manila folder resting on top of the open box. He tapped the screen; the distinct sound of a shutter click. He turned the page, tapped the screen with another click.

Bernadette turned to the stack of boxes next to her and took the top two boxes and set them on the floor. She opened the manila folder Kep had handed her, took out her phone and began taking pictures of each page as well. This folder seemed to contain the paperwork from Jack’s files: credit card bills, mostly, and Jack paid the cards off every month. Every so often another paper bill would be in there, but Jack probably paid his bills online and went paperless. Perhaps the credit card bills were still sent via paper for a reason. Possible that a charge on Jack’s credit card would reveal something important.

They worked in silence. After a few minutes, Kep moved to a second folder, and when he drew his breath in sharply.

“What is it?” Bernadette asked.

“He was working on an exposé on Parr Medical,” Kep said. “He kept detailed records of his call logs. Fifteen calls to Jeremy Niehaus, fifteen to Leopold Montclair. Other board members, as well, but Niehaus and Montclair are the only ones with five calls each. No other notes.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t respond.”

“I can’t imagine that any of the board members would have responded,” Kep mused. “Yet he kept calling both Niehaus and Montclair.”

“So you think he discovered something he could put their names to.” Bernadette took a picture of the last bill and closed the folder.

Kep opened his mouth, then closed it again, his shoulders slumping. “Speculation.”

Bernadette walked over to Kep, putting the folder back in the box, and studied the call log. Handwritten on graph paper. His handwriting was remarkably similar to Kep’s—they both made their capital M’s the same way, with sharp angles, and the middle of the M dipping all the way to the baseline of the letter. She tapped the date next to one of the calls.

“He called them on the same day. Every time.”

“That’s true,” Kep said, rubbing his beard. “I wonder what it means.”

“If I were to speculate,” Bernadette said, “I’d suggest he discovered something with both of their names attached, and he wanted comments from both of them.” She scanned the page. “I don’t see his level of tenacity for any of the others.

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