Long Shadows

Chapter 16

The next morning they took Interstate 75 east and drove the roughly two hours to Miami, where Gamma Protection Services had its headquarters. It was in a sleek high-rise near the water. Agent Andrews had been filled in on the cash found in Draymont’s mouth and had driven over with them.

As they headed up in a glass-enclosed elevator, Decker said, “Protection services must pay really well.”

“Ever thought about jumping over to that side?” asked Andrews.

Decker glanced at him. “No.”

“The dollars are a lot better.”

“I have nothing I want to buy that badly.”

At the solid front doors of the protection agency they showed their creds to a camera after being prompted by a voice over an intercom, and were buzzed into the large foyer.

The place was glass and metal with sleek, low-slung couches in bold colors. Nattily dressed men and women hurried by looking important and busy.

They were asked to wait in a conference room that held broad views of the Atlantic.

Five minutes later a woman in her late thirties walked in, trailed by four others, two men and two women who looked like carbon copies of each other: trim, young, and serious, with tailored suits. The men’s ties were perfectly knotted, and the pocket squares matched the ties. The women’s hair was sculpted, their dresses hit right at the knee, and their heels were a regulation two inches in height.

Decker observed all this and sighed. Please let me get through this official gauntlet without saying shit I’ll regret.

The woman looked at him, White, and Andrews.

“Agent Andrews? It was the conference on cybersecurity, wasn’t it? We were on the same panel?”

“That’s right,” Andrews said, smiling. “These are my colleagues, Amos Decker and Agent Frederica White. This is Kasimira Roe, the CEO of Gamma.”

She shook their hands and motioned for them to sit. Decker noted that her entourage didn’t sit. They just stood against the wall, hands held in front and stared at the FBI intruders.

Decker ran his gaze down the line of clocks on the wall showing times from different cities around the world. He was startled when he spied the fourth one.

“As you can imagine we are extremely distressed about what happened to Alan Draymont and Judge Cummins,” began Roe. “It was unthinkable.”

“Well, it happened, so not so unthinkable for someone,” noted Decker.

She glanced at him. “And you’re also with the FBI?” She ran her gaze over his khakis and wrinkled white shirt that he wore untucked.

“He is,” said Andrews quickly. “From Washington, as is Agent White.”

Roe lifted an eyebrow at this. “I would have thought you were more than equal to the task, Doug.”

Decker observed Roe closely. She was around five eight, dark hair, and pale skin, lean and fit. She wore all black with black stockings and the two-inch heels. Her nails were professionally done, and her makeup was subdued but effective. Her brown eyes were luminous and alert, and they kept edging in his direction, he noted, like curious antennae. A guarded, complex woman, he concluded.

White interjected, “It’s a federal judge, so reinforcements are expected. The U.S. marshals would normally be the active agency here, but Draymont was private security.”

“And we’d like to know why she needed it,” said Decker.

“I’m not really sure how I can discuss that without breaking professional confidences,” replied Roe, looking directly at Decker.

“I would have thought they were broken as soon as the judge died,” countered Decker.

She smiled demurely. “It’s not as simple as all that, Agent Decker.”

He didn’t correct her on the agent nomenclature because it didn’t matter to him. “Well, can you explain that to us?”

“Our relationship with clients is one of trust. It does not perish with the person.”

“Well, since you failed to protect her, it might help us find out who killed her. I don’t see why that would be a problem for you. Or her. Or her family.”

Andrews, probably noting the annoyed look on Roe’s face, said quickly, “I think Decker means that it’s in all of our best interests to see that justice is done and that Judge Cummins’s killer pays for their crime.”

White chimed in, “And understanding what concerned her so much that she had to hire your firm might really help us get there.”

Roe glanced back at the row of people behind her. One man hurried forward and whispered in her ear. She said something back and he nodded.

He returned to the wall, and she looked back at Decker and the others.

“We are checking on some things with our corporate counsel. Of course we want to cooperate fully, but we want to do so in a way that does not jeopardize any client confidentiality.”

“Did she ask for Mr. Draymont specifically?” asked Decker.

She stared at him and said brusquely, “Not to my knowledge.”

“We’d like something more definitive,” he said.

“Right now, it’s to my knowledge,” Roe said firmly.

White said, “Did you meet with her over this matter, or was it an associate?”

“Full disclosure, I knew Julia Cummins through some functions, and organizations we both belonged to. But I did not handle this case. I’m not sure of the details regarding her matter. I assume that she retained the firm, otherwise Draymont would not have been at her home guarding her.”

“Would it be better if we spoke with the person who did handle it?” asked Decker.

“We’ll have to see. As I said, corporate counsel must be involved.”

Decker eyed Andrews to see what his response to this might be. When he said nothing, Decker said, “Let me just be clear. I wasn’t asking a question. Who is this person? We need to meet with them.”

“I’m sure that you can understand we’re all a little stunned at Gamma,” Roe said sharply.

“Not nearly as much as Cummins’s teenaged son who lost his mother,” countered Decker.

“Yes, of course, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” said Roe hastily.

“And as I’m sure you know, speed is of the essence in an investigation like this. So the sooner we find out why the judge hired your firm, the better.”

“Have there been new developments?” said Roe, looking at Andrews.

He began, “Well, as a matter of fact—”

Decker broke in, trying to keep his rising temper in check. “Is there anything you can tell us that might be helpful?”

Roe slowly drew her gaze from Andrews. “Alan Draymont was a good operative, never a problem.”

“Did he have a family?” asked White.

Roe looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Just trying to cover all bases. And they would have to be notified of his death.”

“As far as I know he was single. I don’t believe he had any children, but we will confirm that. I apologize, but Gamma has gotten so big I can’t know all of our people personally in every detail.”

“Of course, of course,” said Andrews.

“How long has Gamma been in business?” asked Decker, again trying to hold his temper at his colleague’s obsequiousness.

“Forty-three years.”

“So presumably before you were born then?”

“Yes. My father, Kanak Roe, founded Gamma back then, under another name. It was operating out of a strip mall four blocks off Miami Beach. Now we have well over a thousand operatives in a dozen countries. With seven offices in Florida alone.”

“It’s been incredibly successful,” observed Andrews, drawing a glare from Decker.

“What was your father’s background?” asked White.

“He immigrated here with my grandparents as a child. He became a citizen, earned his undergraduate degree, and then joined the Secret Service. Later he started what became Gamma.”

“And he’s now retired?” asked White.

“No, he... A boating mishap, three years ago.” She looked toward the window. “Far out there, in the Atlantic.”

“Sorry to hear that,” said White.

“That’s when I took over running Gamma. I’ve worked here full-time after spending five years with the Secret Service. I followed in my father’s footsteps, you see. Then I worked my way up here and was second-in-command at the time he—”

“When can we speak to the person here who dealt with the judge?” interjected Decker. “And we understand there might have been threats that she’d received. If so, we’ll need whatever records you have on that.”

Roe looked at him from under hooded eyes, and her lips curled in displeasure. “You’re quite tenacious. You would make a good operative.”

“Right now I’m just trying to be a good investigator. Is the person in this building? We can talk to them now. And any record of threats? We’ll need copies.”

“As I said, I will—”

“Yes, I know, check the file and talk to corporate counsel.” He glanced at the people standing behind her. “Can you send one of them off to do that now? They don’t look too busy. And we drove a long way to go home empty-handed. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

Andrews coughed and frowned, while White looked as resolute as Decker.

Roe flicked a finger in the direction of her team. They looked at one another for a few moments. Then one of them walked out of the room, tapping on her phone screen.

Decker once more eyed the clocks on the wall.

Roe turned to see what he was looking at.

“We have offices in all those places,” she explained.

“Yeah, I get that. But I’ve never seen a clock for Bratislava before.”

“It’s the capital of—”

“—Slovakia,” interjected Decker.

Both White and Andrews exchanged startled glances at this.

Roe said, “That’s where my given name comes from. I believe its true origins are Germanic, but my father was Slovakian from Czechoslovakia. He left long before it was split into the Czech and Slovak Republics.”

“Not easy to emigrate from there when it was under Soviet rule,” said Decker.

“The Soviets taking over was the reason my family left. They wanted a better life.” She smiled. “In Slovakian, ‘Kasimira’ means ‘command for peace,’ or something to that effect.”

“And you have an office there?” said Andrews.

“Yes, a small one. I try to get out to each of our foreign offices every couple of years if I can. But I haven’t been to Bratislava for three years now.”

“Ever since your father’s mishap?” said Decker.

She eyed him with a bit of alarm in her look. “Yes, that’s right.”

Decker was about to ask another question when the woman who had earlier left the room returned with another woman.

She said, “This is Alice Lancer. She can give you more information about Alan Draymont and Judge Cummins.”

Decker looked Lancer over. She was around forty, medium height, blond, and slender, with attractive features and a no-nonsense demeanor.

But then her face turned the color of putty and the woman grabbed at her chest as she began to breathe heavily.

And a moment later Lancer fell to the floor, unconscious.