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My father gasped. “How do you know?”
“He pawned Mom’s coral earrings. I found them and I’ll buy them after the holding period.”
“Oh my God!” My mother lit up. “TJ, that’s wonderful!”
“Good.” My father looked impressed, which had to be a first.
“Now, guys.” I scrolled to the photo that Mike Dedham had given me and held it up. “This man is named Ryan Martell, and he might be Fake Elliott Thompson. You can see the photo’s blurry and his face is half out of the frame. I think he looks like Fake Elliott Thompson, but I can’t be sure. Now, Ryan Martell was a union steward for IBEW, Local 98, the local electrical workers union in Philly, a friend of Stan’s from way back.”
Gabby craned forward at the picture. “It’s not much to go on with half a face.”
Martin looked over with a smile. “Darling, I repair cleft palates for a living. I’m pretty good with faces.”
“Gabby and Martin, the question you have to answer is whether the man in the driver’s license is Ryan Martell.” I wrote on the dry-erase board,GABBY AND MARTIN—IS FAKE ELLIOTT THOMPSON REALLYRYAN MARTELL?“The IBEW, Local 98, has to have a website. You should be able to drill down to find a list of the union stewards in the past. Or there has to be some calls you can make. This should be public information. By the way, their former business manager is in prison.”
Gabby nodded. “How does Ryan Martell fit in?”
“If the man is Martell, then I think he was in a conspiracy with Barry Rigel. I think they’ve been following John and me, and I think they have something to do with Lemaire’s death, which I believe was murder.” Everyone fell silent at the word, which had a weight of its own. “I think Martell poses a danger to us and I don’t know if it’s a two-person conspiracy or more. I don’t know why they’re doing what they’re doing or how John is mixed up with them.”
My father’s face fell, and my mother reached for his hand.
I turned to Sabrina. “I know that John keeps his own calendar but when he goes out, he tells you where he’s going, like I do.”
“Yes, and often I’ll mark it down.”
Fantastic.“I’d love it if you could get your calendars together for the past year or so and generally give me a sense of who he’s been meeting with and where he’s been going. I’m hoping that we can see how that jibes with his billing and understand more about what he’s been up to. Do you think that’s possible?”
“Yes.”
Suddenly we heard a commotion in the reception room, and I realized with a bolt of fear that the front door hadn’t been locked when I came in tonight.
Everyone startled, and my father jumped up in alarm. I hustled from the conference room as someone called out:
“Hello? This is Detectives Willoughby and Balleu, looking for TJ Devlin!”
Chapter Forty-Seven
My father hustled past me, heading into the hallway. “Detectives, how can I help you?” he asked in his Chamber of Commerce voice.
“Paul, good to see you again. Do you know where TJ is, by any chance?”
“Yes, he’s here.”
I went down the hall, my mind racing. “Detectives, yes, what do you want?”
“TJ, hello.” Detective Willoughby eyed me hard. “A blue Subaru Forester registered to you was stolen last night from outside a restaurant in Delco. Couple of kids took it for a joyride. The keys were left inside, and they found the door hanging open. We picked them up this afternoon. Is that where you left your car?”
Oh shit.
My father jumped in. “Detective Willoughby, if TJ’s car was stolen, why does it matter where it was left or if the keys were inside? Are you pressing charges?”
I masked my surprise. No More Mr. Nice Lawyer.
Detective Willoughby frowned. “They’re two skateboarders from nice families in the neighborhood. The parents came forward andcalled us. They’re minors, and it was a first offense. Unless you feel strongly otherwise, the DA’s willing to let it go.”
“It’s up to TJ. I hope they didn’t do any damage.”
“Not that I know.” Detective Willoughby turned to me. “TJ, what do you say? You can inspect the car before the DA makes a final charging decision. It’s at the impound lot. I’ll let you know when you can come down.”
