Page 9 of Charmed Forces
Markham Hardy was a tall, stout man with a thick neck, rapidly receding hair and an odd, button-like nose. While he failed to win any prizes for his looks, he would have been a front runner for men’s fashion. His suit was Italian, his tie silk, his shoes handmade, and his watch held several discreet diamonds. He was the kind of dresser the Mafiosi wanted to be, except I was pretty sure he’d never buried a body under one of his developments. Not one hundred percent sure. I didn’t like to ask.
“And you. Call me Markham. You say it’s good news?” he asked as he pumped my hand.
“I think so,” I said. “Come on through to the meeting room and I’ll go through my report with you.”
“So you caught ‘em, huh?” he said as I closed the door behind us. He eased open his suit jacket and settled in the chair, waiting expectantly.
“I can’t decide now if you’ll be pleased or annoyed by my report but I hope it will be the former.”
“Fortunately, you don’t have to worry about anything but delivering it,” he replied without any trace of obnoxiousness. “Let’s get to it.”
“Okay, then,” I agreed as I opened the file. For the next ten minutes, I took him through my surveillance, producing photos I’d taken at timely moments and answering any questions Markham had about the timeline. Finally, I reached my end point where I slid across the photos of the happy couple stepping up their relationship to the next level. “I think this will give you closure.” Markham looked up from the photo and raised his eyebrows. “Sorry. Inadvertent real estate pun.”
“You would be surprised how many I hear. Sometimes I enjoy them.” One side of Markham’s mouth curled up into a smile, almost amused, then his gaze returned to the photo. He tapped it with his forefinger.
“Do you believe this?”
“It looked very real to me.”
“You don’t think they’re trying to throw you off the scent?”
“I don’t think they were leaving any scent in the way you suspected. On this particular day, Louise and Callum seemed to be entirely caught up in a day-long date. They looked very comfortable together and both seemed very excited about the proposal.” I eased out another sheet of paper. “I had one of our investigators look into the engagement ring this morning and we have this invoice, along with your employee’s bank records. I think it’s a reasonable amount to spend, given his salary and savings, certainly not excessive. You’ll also note the ring was purchased a month ago and the restaurant reservation was made only a couple of days later, so it was something Callum was planning rather than throwing together to ward off any suspicion. The proposal might explain any nervousness you noticed from him in the last few weeks,” I explained.
Markham nodded, apparently satisfied with that. “What about their movements separately?” he asked.
“Due to the timing of the case, and the agency’s case load, we couldn’t put our full resources on them. However, we had an advantage in that their shifts were staggered, enabling me to split my time between them. Neither one did anything I considered suspicious. No shady meetings in parking lots, no collecting or dispensing of packages or anything like that, but I’ll be the first to admit we live in a world where crime can be conducted entirely online.”
“That’s why I signed the release for you to examine their company devices.”
“That did help, thank you. We were able to dump their phones and laptops but there wasn’t anything of concern on the devices or in the emails either. I want to add that if thereweresomething concerning I wouldn’t expect to find it on their work devices. That said, our tech guy didn’t see any evidence of either one attempting to access anything that they shouldn’t within your firm. His report is in the file too.” I paused to sip my water, then added, “I also checked their bank accounts and I didn’t find any suspicious deposits or undisclosed payments. Based on that, and what I did witness, I’m content to conclude that the only thing they wanted to conceal was their relationship since it’s written in the company policy that fraternizing with colleagues is discouraged. That’s why you noticed some furtive meetings. I expect they’ll notify HR this week and announce their engagement shortly afterwards.”
“This is a very comprehensive report,” said Markham.
“We can continue surveillance if you’d like. However, while the decision is, of course, yours, the agency does feel it might not be an economically advantageous decision for you.”
“You mean I’d be wasting my money trying to prove something you already say isn’t happening?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s fair enough. Actually, I hoped that would be the case. I felt bad about suspecting Louise but she did have access to all the files and then I started wondering if maybe Callum was getting information from her and selling it. Perhaps it’s just bad luck we’ve been undercut by our competitors so much these past few months. I’m glad to be wrong. Thank you, I appreciate this.”
“Please don’t hesitate to return if you feel we can assist you in any other way.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope there won’t be another occasion,” said Markham, rising now. “Thanks for your work on this, young lady.” He gathered the file and slid it into his briefcase. Then he stuck out his hand and shook mine. “I guess this is the best kind of outcome,” he said as we walked to the elevator. “I know relationships develop from time to time within the firm. It may not be a sexy business, but it requires long hours at times and colleagues naturally get closer. That’s how I met my wife, as it happened. She was one of the account managers. Maybe I should have HR re-examine our personal relationships policy.”
“I hope that works out well,” I said, having no idea what to say about HR policies since I’d flouted pretty much all of them at every firm I’d ever worked at. I was sure those firms put their rules there for a reason, but those reasons never really suited me. Now I thought about it, the agency didn’t have any HR policy beyond “don’t do anything too stupid.” Whether I stuck to that was a matter of opinion.
We said goodbye and I waited until the elevator doors slid shut before I headed upstairs back to the office. The phone was ringing as I entered and I jogged over to scoop up the handset, spending the next hour answering all manner of queries, ninety percent of which I could do nothing about. Five percent made me consider whether Ididneed a vacation. And five percent was spent chatting with a small child who wanted to hire me to find out who was stealing her pocket money from the piggy bank she’d now hidden in her closet. I gave her some of my favorite booby-trap tips and she agreed to call back in a week or so.
Finally, when no one had called in an hour and I’d finished browsing online for summer vacation dresses, I gave up and headed to Lily’s bar.
“This is a surprise,” said Lily when I hopped onto a bar stool. “What can I get you? Two for the price of one cocktail? A pitcher just for you?”
“It’s not that kind of night,” I said, pulling a sad face. “I’m meeting Solomon at home for pizza.”
“What’s happened to us?” bemoaned Lily. “We used to be so much fun. Now we’re respectable working women who go home at a reasonable hour. Well, you are anyway. I’m here ‘til midnight.”
“I taught a six-year-old how to rig her closet with a flour bomb today,” I said.