Absent Mercy, page 6
“Have you heard about the lawsuit against the Westford-Myer Motor Company?”
Francesca nodded. “They had to issue a product recall for one of their cars, after it had been out there for years, right?”
“Which cost them a lot of money, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. They… they paid me to lie about the details, so that it wouldn’t hurt their stock prices any more than it had to. It meant that people didn’t get the damages they might have been looking for. When my firm found out, I was fired.”
To Amber, that sounded like a reason for Anderson to be angry. It made him a better suspect, not a worse one. Especially since he seemed to be so happy to admit something that probably amounted to perjury.
“Thomas Jackson was involved in this?” Amber asked.
Anderson nodded. “The car came out of his division.”
“And Emily Chen?” Simon asked.
“She helped with the marketing campaign designed to push the car and convince everyone it was still safe. I was advising her on her position regarding the court case.”
“Do you have an alibi for yesterday, between three and four?” Francesca asked. “That’s when Emily was snatched.”
“Yes,” Anderson said. “I was in court. I’ve had to start taking on smaller and smaller cases just to keep making a living. I had a hearing that went on until five.”
So there was no way that he could be the killer. Yet Amber couldn’t feel disappointed, because it felt as though he’d given them a crucial piece of information. They knew now what the connection between Emily Chen and Thomas Jackson was.
“Mr. Anderson,” Francesca said, “my people are going to want to talk to you when this is done.”
Anderson sighed. “If I’m still alive for you to talk to me, I’ll count myself lucky.”
It was obvious that he’d decided this was all about the Westford-Myer case. Right then, Amber couldn’t disagree.
There was one piece of good news that came from this conversation. They now had more than enough to get the warrant they needed to look into the Westford-Myer Motor Company’s affairs.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The first thing they did was to go to the local courthouse to get a warrant. The courthouse was an old building that looked as though someone had originally tried to make it as classically grand as possible, but which was now a little run-down, some of its paint peeling and its woodwork a little cracked.
To Amber, the courthouse smelled like dust and old paper, a little musty, but not unpleasant. Amber could see plenty of people moving through it, obviously arriving for court dates.
“It’s better if you two wait here,” Francesca said as they entered the foyer. “I know one of the local judges. He’ll give us what we need, but having the FBI in there with me might complicate things.”
Amber wasn’t entirely happy to leave that to the detective, but it seemed that Simon was more enthusiastic.
“That’s great, Francesca. We’ll be waiting. We’re lucky to have you working with us.”
“Well, some people are easy to work with,” the detective said. She headed off, deeper into the building, leaving Amber and Simon there to wait. Amber sat down on a bench. The wood of the benches was smooth, worn a little by the years and the bustle of the place.
Amber could see that Simon was tense, his jaw clenched as they waited for the warrant to be issued. She knew that he was as eager as she was to catch the killer as soon as possible. They had a lead now, and neither of them wanted to let it go cold.
Amber could feel the impatience building inside her. She had to remind herself that it was better to take this slowly and do things right than to rush off without everything they needed in an attempt to get to the answers quicker. Even so, although it was probably only a brief time before Detective Angelique returned with the warrant, it felt far longer.
“Any trouble?” Simon asked as the detective returned.
“Not once I told the judge about Stanley Anderson,” Francesca replied. “The judge wants to get to the bottom of all of this as badly as we do. Maybe this will finally let the people of Westford find out what really went on with the Westford-Myer Motor Company.”
“Just remember that isn’t the priority,” Amber said.
Francesca looked back at her. “Trust me, nothing is going to distract me from catching this killer. I’m just thinking about what happens afterwards.”
With the warrant in hand, they headed to the Westford-Myer Motor Company headquarters, driving out to its location at the end of a long road at the edge of town. It seemed to Amber that almost every other business in the town was a garage, workshop, or motor dealership. It reminded her of just how integral the WM Motor Company was to the town, and how many lives it touched.
They drove past a number of old workshops and outbuildings to get to it. The building was sleek and modern, with glass walls and sharp edges. Amber couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease as they walked in, suspecting that there was more going on here than there appeared to be on the surface.
As they approached the reception desk, a young woman looked up from her computer and greeted them with a smile. She was professionally dressed, her blonde hair tied back, her smile neat and well-practiced.
“Can I help you?” she asked, looking them over as if trying to assess what they might be doing there.
Simon set the warrant down on the reception desk. “FBI. We have a warrant here to search for any documents relating to Westford-Myer’s legal case and product recall.”
The receptionist looked suddenly flustered. Amber guessed that all of this was a long way above her pay grade. It certainly wasn’t the kind of thing she had to deal with every day.
“I… I’ll need to call the CEO.”
“Do that,” Francesca said.
The receptionist moved away to make a call, whispering frantically. She looked right then as if she would rather have been anywhere else. She turned back to Amber, Simon, and Francesca.
“If you’d like to go upstairs, they’ll meet you in conference room two, on the second floor.”
“Thank you,” Simon said.
As they rode the elevator up to the second floor, Amber couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease. The building was too sterile, too perfect. It felt like a place where secrets were kept, where the truth was carefully hidden away. Or maybe she just felt that because of the things the lawyer had told her and the others.
When they stepped off the elevator, they were met by a tall man in a tailored suit. He had a sharp nose and thin lips, and his eyes flickered over the three of them with a cool detachment.
“I’m Richard Myer, CEO of Westford-Myer Motor Company. How can I help you?”
“We want to know about the product recall,” Amber said.
That produced a flicker of worry on the CEO’s face, one that vanished a second later, carefully hidden.
“You’d better come through to the conference room. My lawyers are waiting.”
He led the way to a large conference room. It was oak paneled, with large windows overlooking the city. There was a long table in the center of the room, surrounded by comfortable leather chairs. There were a few people seated at the table, and they all looked up as Amber, Simon, and Francesca entered the room. Amber took one look at their almost identical gray suits and professionally serious expressions and knew that these had to be Richard Myer’s lawyers.
Richard Myer sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his lawyers. Simon held up the warrant. “We’re here to search for any documents relating to the product recall and legal case that Thomas Jackson was involved in.”
Amber saw several of the lawyers lean in toward Myer, whispering hurried advice. Amber wasn’t sure what advice they could give right then. It wasn’t as if they could ignore the warrant. Myer remained calm, though Amber could see a tenseness in his shoulders.
“We’ll cooperate fully with your investigation,” Myer said. “I take it this is in relation to Thomas’s death?”
“And that of Emily Chen,” Simon said. Amber watched the CEO’s face as he said it. She picked up a flicker of recognition there. “I take it she did work for you?”
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already know that,” Richard Myer said. He shrugged. “My lawyers think that my best route now is to say as little as possible to avoid creating problems for my company. I’m inclined to agree.”
Amber guessed that he was worried about the legal implications for his company. She knew that they needed to persuade him to talk anyway, or they could be there for hours, sorting through documents. Every moment they wasted was a chance for the killer to either get away or worse, take another victim for one of his sick games.
“Mr. Myer, we understand that you might be concerned about the legal implications, but we’re here to find out the truth about what happened to Thomas Jackson and Emily Chen. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s no need for you to be worried,” Amber said.
Myer narrowed his eyes at her, as if trying to figure out her motive. “And what do you think happened to them?”
“We suspect that there’s a connection between their deaths and the recall of one of your company’s products. We’re looking for any evidence that might lead us to the person responsible,” Simon said. He seemed to guess at Myer’s concerns. “The FBI isn’t interested in your company, Mr. Myer, only in the reasons that someone might be killing people connected with it. Now, you can make us go through every scrap of paper in this building, looking into every facet of your business as we go, or you can simply talk to us.”
Myer sighed and leaned back in his chair. Amber could see him debating with himself about how much to say and what to do next. She could see the tension in him. Then he seemed to come to a decision.
“Very well. I’ll cooperate as much as I can.” He gestured to his lawyers. “Out, all of you.”
“Mr. Myer,” one of them began, “I really don’t think that’s—”
“It’s my decision to make. Now, out.”
The lawyers filed out of there, looking worried as they did so. Amber suspected that it was meant to be a gesture from Myer of just how candid he was about to be with them. Amber wondered if they could afford to take it at face value.
Myer sat there for a few seconds after that, as if considering what to say next. Maybe he was thinking about how much he could afford to say, before it caused too much damage to his business.
“Our recall was for the WM 120 model car. There were safety issues that meant that it wasn’t possible to keep building it.”
“What kind of safety issues?” Francesca asked. It occurred to Amber that she might not be willing to let things slide in the way that Amber and Simon could.
Myer hesitated for a moment before answering. “That’s a matter of public record. There were problems with the brakes. We had reports that they were failing at high speeds, which could be fatal. We had to recall all the cars and fix the problem.”
“How many cars were affected?” Amber asked.
“About twenty-five thousand,” Myer answered. “We followed all the proper procedures and notified all the customers affected.”
“How quickly?” Simon asked. That was the crucial question. Stanley Anderson had insinuated that the company had tried to cover things up, that they’d lied to avoid the worst consequences of what they’d done.
Richard Myer didn’t answer for several seconds. “You understand that if you repeat this outside of this room, I will deny that I said it. I will not let my company be dragged down by this. We’re only just surviving the recall as it is. There have been lawsuits, but there could be many more.”
“How quickly?” Simon repeated.
Richard Myer looked uncomfortable. “Not quickly enough. The 120 fell under Thomas Jackson’s division. He thought he could handle things, quietly bring the cars in and sort out the problems, try to spin the marketing so that we wouldn’t be affected too badly. He tried to make it seem as if the problems weren’t known about by his engineers from the start.”
Amber got the feeling that the company’s CEO was throwing Thomas Jackson under the bus, using him as a scapegoat now that he was dead and couldn’t defend himself. Amber felt a sense of unease settle over her as she listened to Myer’s words. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was more to this story than Myer was telling them. She suspected that he’d almost certainly known more than he was pretending now.
“Can you provide us with a list of all the customers affected by the recall?” Francesca asked.
“It would be literally thousands of people,” Myer said.
“And how many were hurt?” Amber said. “How many were killed? How many accidents were there?”
“I don’t have precise figures on hand,” Myer said. “Dozens at least. Possibly hundreds. Why do you think my lawyers want me to hold back as much information as possible?”
Amber leaned forward. “Mr. Myer, the FBI needs your full cooperation if we’re going to get to the bottom of this. More lives are at stake, and we need to know the truth. That means knowing who might have a reason to hate your company enough to do this.”
Myer sighed and sat back in his chair. “You’re right, Agent. I’ll do what I can to help you.”
“Thank you,” Simon said. “Can you provide us with all the documents and reports related to the recall? And we’ll also need a list of all the employees involved in the production of the 120 model.”
Myer nodded. “Of course. I’ll have my assistant gather everything and send it to your office.”
“Thank you,” Amber said. “And one more thing, Mr. Myer. Did Thomas Jackson ever express any concerns about his safety or the security of the company?”
Myer’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I’m just trying to piece together whether he might have been aware that someone was targeting him,” Amber said. “Did he ever mention anything about feeling threatened or in danger?”
Myer shook his head. “No, not that I’m aware of. Thomas was a loyal employee, always looking out for the company’s best interests. He never mentioned anything like that to me. Possibly deliberately. He may have wished to shield me from the truth about what was happening.”
Amber nodded. She wasn’t sure she believed that Myer didn’t know about all this at the time, but that wasn’t the point right now.
“I take it Emily Chen’s involvement was about controlling the marketing to make it seem as if everything was fine?” Simon asked.
Myer hesitated just for a moment.
Amber leaned forward, her eyes locked onto Myer’s. She could feel the weight of the truth pressing down on her, and she knew that they needed to get to the bottom of this.
“Mr. Myer, we’ve already told you that we’re not here to harm your company. We’re here to investigate the deaths of two people, who may have been killed because of this recall. We need to know the truth, not just about what happened with the recall, but about what happened to Thomas Jackson and Emily Chen.”
Myer looked at her for a long moment, weighing his words carefully. “I understand that. But you have to understand that my company is my life’s work. I’ve poured everything into it. If there’s anything that could damage it, I have to be careful.”
“Of course,” Amber said, wondering if that was the attitude that had led to the cover-up in the first place. “But we’re not asking you to put your company at risk. You’ve already pointed out that we can’t prove what you’re saying right now. We just need to know what happened.”
Myer hesitated for a moment longer, before finally nodding his head. “All right. I’ll tell you what I know. Yes, Emily Chen was involved in that side of things. She was brought in specifically to have someone who couldn’t be connected directly with the company managing the fallout of the 120’s brake failures.”
Which meant that they had a possible motive now why someone had killed both her and Thomas Jackson. The only problem was that it gave them a potential pool of suspects that ran into the hundreds, if not the thousands. Anyone who had been hurt, or simply felt cheated, by the court case and the subsequent recall might be behind this.
“We’ll need a list of those customers who tried to sue you,” Francesca said. Those were clearly the ones with the greatest desire to get back at the company.
“Of course,” Myer said. “I’ll send you the court documents along with the rest.”
Amber was grateful for that. It felt as though they were finally getting somewhere. She just hoped that it would be enough to let them find the murderer before he could hurt anyone else.
CHAPTER NINE
He checked the mechanism of the device carefully as it sat there in the abandoned building. He was confident in his design, and it had worked twice so far, but a good engineer always checked, always tested. Always made sure of things.
They hadn’t tested, not until it was too late. Not until the accident reports had started coming in. Even then, they’d buried the evidence and tried to cover their tracks.
He couldn’t let them get away with it. Couldn’t let them pretend that it was all just some grand accident. Not after what they had done. The dead wouldn’t let him.
“How long before you make the next one pay?” The voice was clear and direct, even though he could see that there was no one else there with him.
“How long?” another asked.
“How long?”
The chorus of them was incessant, the ghosts of the dead demanding retribution for what Westford-Myer had done without giving him so much as a moment of peace. They had been the ones to convince him that he had to do this. He hadn’t wanted to. He’d wanted to go to the police with what he knew, but they were right; it wasn’t enough. No legal route would provide enough retribution to make up for allowing people to die simply in the name of profit.
He’d seen the newspapers, seen the carefully constructed stories Emily Chen had created to manage the situation. He knew that the company was trying to cover it up, to make it seem as if they had done everything they could to protect their customers. But he knew the truth, and he couldn’t let it stand.
_preview.jpg)
