his attitude. ‘What activity?’ Harris asked in a meeker, more worried tone.
‘Well, as you may know, we monitor the charges on all our customers’ accounts so that we can alert the customer to any charges that seem uncharacteristic. It’s a precaution we use to attempt to avert identity theft, which, as I’m sure you know, has become epidemic.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Harris.
‘Now, Dr Janssen, you recently used your card to make several routine purchases for goods and services in the Philadelphia area, which is normal activity on your account. However, an account manager noticed that a cruise on Sunset Cruise lines for two was charged for that same time period and, since one can’t be in two places at once, it set off an alert process, which is why I’m calling you.’
Harris was silent. For a moment.
Shelby’s hand was damp where it held the receiver. ‘Now let me hasten to assure you, Dr Janssen,’ she said in a soothing tone, ‘we’re simply trying to protect your interests. Identity theft is an enormous problem in our industry. All we want to do is to check that these transactions are all known to you and that you have no wish to query them.’
Harris hesitated. ‘There’s no problem with my account,’ he said firmly.
‘You’re quite certain that all these charges are legitimate.’
‘It’s fine.’ His tone was terse and edgy, as if he couldn’t wait to hang up the phone.
‘All right. Thank you very much for your time Dr Janssen. I’ll take the warning off this account. And I am so sorry to have disturbed you.’
‘No problem,’ said Harris gruffly.
Shelby hung up the phone. She was trembling all over. You bastard, she thought. It was you.
For a long time, Shelby sat hunched over in Rosellen’s chair, shaking from head to toe, trying to absorb this new reality. Harris Janssen had arranged her daughter’s death. Somehow she had thought that when she found out this information, she would spring into action, ready to avenge herself and her child. But now that the moment had arrived, she felt completely empty and sick at heart.
Last night, all she could think about was her desire to expose the plot that had led to Chloe’s death. She had vaguely imagined herself bringing her information to the police and enlisting them to arrest this man. Now that the moment was here, she realized that she could not walk into the nearest police precinct and expect someone to listen to her tale. Her theory was based on the flimsiest of evidence. She had a dead man who had lied about winning a trip, and a respected doctor whom she had conned by pretending to work for a credit card company. It was all speculation. And it related to a crime that had been committed thousands of miles away, in the middle of the sea. The police of Philadelphia had their hands full. Bodies riddled with bullets were routinely found floating in the river or buried under trash in the vacant lots of the city’s worst neighborhoods. Hadn’t she just heard about one on the news? If she tried to explain about Chloe, they would probably laugh at her.
It was as if she had made the whole journey for no reason at all. She had hunted for Chloe’s killer, and now that she knew his identity, she felt utterly bereft. There was no one who shared her conviction, or even shared her life enough to care. What now, she thought? No answer rose in her mind. The inside of her head felt fogged over. All she could feel was an immense depression descending on her.
She was too late. It was all too late. If only she had insisted that the police pursue all the possibilities when the crime occurred . . . But there was no way she could have known. She thought back to the perfunctory investigation in St Thomas, the bland reassurances of Chief Giroux and Agent DeWitt. And then, a possibility occurred to her and, with it, a flicker of hope. Agent DeWitt, who had aided Chief Giroux, was from the FBI. The FBI probably had a computer database of all their investigations, as well as an office right here in Philadelphia. They had offices in every big city in the U.S. Maybe if she went there, she could find a sympathetic ear – someone who would be interested in the idea of a planned murder. Of course the first question they would ask her was ‘Why?’ And she