“It would seem likely,” Azriel said. “And I would imagine that six months would provide ample time to learn someone’s mannerisms and habits.”
“I’d imagine so.” I glanced at the date stamped on the passport image and did the math. “His disappearance happened a year and a half after Greenfield came into the country.”
“Yes, but the timing gets even more interesting,” Stane said. “Six months before Michael Judd went on a walkabout with a mysterious woman, Greenfield become acquainted with one Edward Judd—Michael’s father.”
He flicked another image across to my screen. Shock rolled through me, and for several seconds I couldn’t even speak. All I could do was stare at the screen and the all-too-familiar figure standing with the much younger Mike and two other men I didn’t recognize.
“The Aedh,” Azriel growled. “More and more I regret my decision not to kill him the very moment I met him.”
“More and more I’m regretting the very same thing,” I muttered. I glanced back at Stane. “Who is the fourth man in that picture? I take it the one with his arm around Michael’s shoulder is Edward Judd?”
Stane nodded. “The article that pic was attached to said Lucian and Judd were partners in an importing business. The other man is, according to this particular newspaper article, James Bentley.”
“Who is?”
“The article didn’t actually say, so I did a side search on the man. He was a long-term friend of the family and was also Edward’s business adviser.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Was?”
Stane nodded. “He disappeared not long after Michael Judd’s reappearance. His family had him declared dead via a court order nine years later, though his body was never found.”
“If he’d known the family for so long, maybe he suspected the Michael that reappeared was not the real deal.”
“It’s more than possible,” Stane agreed. “Especially given Michael was the last person to see James alive.”
Considering there was a very good chance Michael Greenfield had become Michael Judd, it was more than possible that not only was he the last person to see James alive, but also the reason he disappeared. “Did the police ever question him?”
“According to the newspaper articles, yes. I tried to track down the official police interview report, but I’m afraid they just don’t keep records that far back anymore. Not for people who have been declared dead, anyway.”
“When did Greenfield—via Pénombre Manufacturing—purchase that warehouse?”
“Not long after he’d arrived in Australia, apparently.”
I frowned. “Why buy it, then not use it? That makes no sense.”
“But he was using it,” Azriel commented. “He might not have had his dark altar there, but he was doing magic in the caverns under that place.”
That was certainly true. And, given that, maybe it was also true of other buildings. “Did Greenfield or Pénombre purchase any other buildings?”
Stane smiled. “Pénombre didn’t, but Greenfield certainly did.” He flicked another image over to my screen. It was a list of about half a dozen locations. “He actually bought more than these, but they’ve either been sold to legitimate people, or the buildings were razed, apartments built on the land, and then sold.”
“Legitimate meaning you’ve checked them out?” I said.
He nodded. “I’m still in the process with a couple of them, but I can’t immediately see or find a link back to any of our sorceress’s known identities.”
“And Michael Greenfield? Is he still in existence?”
“According to the tax department, yes, though it took some time to track him down, as he hasn’t actually filed a return for a few years now.”
“Define a few?”
“Eleven years.” He grinned. “He’s racking up some big fines to the tax man, I can tell you.”
They could only fine him if they could find him, and I somehow doubted they ever would. Mike had obviously ditched that persona. I waved a hand at the list of six. “And these?”
“Have all been sold, but most of them have, at one point or another, been in Lauren’s hands.”
“So definitely a connection.” I studied them for a moment, then frowned. “That place out at Altona North—who’s that registered to now?”