“I’m not sure what I’ll need on the fly so, yes, you’re coming along, too.”
Okay then.
He went over more things and I took notes rapid-fire before he left to meet a client for lunch.
I headed upstairs to find Hinton’s assistant, combing my memory for her name. I’d met her a few times and she’d been really sweet. Sylvia. That was her name. In her early sixties, she’d worked for Hinton since he’d started at the firm.
Hinton’s office had police tape across the door and heavy plastic had been hung across the glass walls, preventing anyone from seeing inside. Sylvia was digging through a drawer when I stepped up to the counter. In a style identical to my setup, a tall counter served as two walls to her cube.
“Hi, Sylvia,” I said quietly. I wondered how she was doing, how she was taking the murder of her boss.
She glanced up and I got my answer. Not well. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen and she looked exhausted. When I’d caught glimpses of her before, she was always perfectly put together. But today her hair was slightly mussed and she wore no makeup.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, honey, what an awful thing. I still—I just can’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head. Her eyes shone with tears.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“They called last night, told me what happened, and of course I came right in,” she said. “Mr. Hinton was a nice man, only two years from retiring. Why would anyone do such a thing?”
The question was rhetorical so I just rounded the counter into her cube, squeezing her shoulder sympathetically. “I have no idea,” I said. “I hope the security and IT people will be able to figure out how the killer got in the building. Have you heard anything?”
She shook her head. “I’m just the secretary. They don’t tell me anything.” Reaching for a tissue, she blew her nose.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, “but I guess Mr. Wurley is having Parker take over Hinton’s duties for now, until he…works things out. Can you give me the files on the client he was meeting in New York next week?”
Sylvia nodded, turning to a stack on her desk. “Sure. Here they are. They’re new, Bank ZNT, out of Moscow.”
I remembered Parker had wanted files on them yesterday afternoon, after Ryker had shown up. Taking the thick file from her, I flipped through it. “Haven’t we already been buying from them?”
“Yes, but they’re looking to expand the relationship. They have branches and ties to other banks in Ukraine, Belarus, Estonia…” She waved her hand. “All those countries over there, the old USSR.”
I frowned. “I thought we weren’t doing business with Russian countries.”
The financial world knew to be on the lookout for any banks or firms that could have ties to the Russian mob. Of course, with the state-sponsored backing they had over there, it was hard to tell the good guys from the bad. Therefore it had become a policy of KLP Capital not to do business with them. The repercussions were too high should any transaction not be aboveboard, ranging from frozen assets to criminal prosecution.
“This one seems to be on the up-and-up,” Sylvia said. “At least, Mr. Hinton thought so. He recommended to Mr. Wurley that we take them on. It’s only been a couple of months since all the papers were signed.”
“Okay, well, thanks,” I said. “Can you have IT give us access to their account on the server?”
“Sure, honey.”
I eyed her for a moment. “Is there anything you need?” I asked. “Anything I can get for you?” I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if something happened to Parker, and my heart went out to her.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I was planning on retiring when Mr. Hinton did. Maybe I’ll just retire early, go visit my grandkids for a while. They’re always wanting me to come stay with them.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” I said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do, okay? I imagine Parker will want more files than just this one.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sylvia said. Her smile was wan, but there nonetheless.
I impulsively gave her a quick hug before I headed back downstairs. I knew she was a widow with several children, some of whom obviously were old enough to have kids of their own. I hoped she’d retire and take that trip to see them. If nothing else, Mr. Hinton’s murder was a reminder that life