him . “Perché, lei non mangia? È sempre cosí?” he demanded. “Why isn’t she eating? Is she always like this?” Shaking his head, he walked off in a huff, muttering to himself, “Americani.”
Laurel rolled her eyes and turned back to Aaron. “From what I’ve heard about Hammersmith, he was just as ruthless in his personal life as he was in business. He was one of those private collectors who’d pay any price to have what he wanted and God help anyone who got in his way.” Laurel reached for her wine and twirled the glass by the stem. “I suspect he wasn’t too concerned about how Moto had acquired this particular painting, as long as it was the blockbuster he expected.”
“ And Jeff?” Aaron’s words held the hint of suspicion. “How particular was he? Would he also do whatever it took to make a sale like this and walk away with a huge commission?”
“ I don’t know.” Laurel continued to fiddle with her glass.
He reached across the table to still her hand. “Laurel, did anyone but Jeff have the access codes to the holding account or could someone else have gotten hold of them? That’s a lot of money to be stashed away unaccounted for and untouched for the last eight years. What about his family? Did they know what bank Hammersmith was using?”
Laurel shook her head. “No, they didn’t. His wife and sons tried everything they could to find out, but it was useless. They couldn’t determine which Swiss bank was holding the money. Even if they did, the bank would never have released it without the codes.”
“ So the Hammersmith family wasn’t privy to the deal.”
“ The way I understand it, Jeff and Alfred Hammersmith were the only two people who knew the codes, and that’s presupposing that the meeting had gotten that far. If the codes were in Hammersmith’s computer or written down anywhere in his office, they’d have been destroyed in the fire.
“ What about Monica?” asked Aaron. “Did Jeff tell her anything about the deal?”
Laurel shook her head. “No. Nothing. She was questioned about it at great length by the police, the FBI, and Hammersmith’s people.” She shuddered at the memory of what her friend had gone through. “It was horrible for her. All that suspicion heaped on her, people impugning Jeff’s reputation. And of course, he was gone, vanished, with no one to defend him but Monica.” She looked directly at Aaron. “I’m sure she told them everything she knew about the deal. Why, what are you thinking?”
“ I don’t know.” Aaron was absorbing the information Laurel had provided, contemplating possible ways this deal could have played out. He was trying to assess how his next question would affect her. “Was Jeff’s body ever identified?” he asked gently.
“ Hammersmith’s was, through DNA. But no, Jeff’s was among the one thousand one hundred sixty one that weren’t. We put up posters at bus stops, train stations, and in the parks. We asked for information online, like so many people, but I don’t think his body will ever be identified.” She looked at Aaron again, this time her eyes flashing with a hard spark of anger. He was sure she was recalling the man she’d seen earlier. “How could it be?” she spat out bitterly. “There can’t be a body to identify when the person is still alive.”
“ Don’t get ahead of yourself here. We don’t know for sure that the man was Jeff Sargasso. We’d need a lot more evidence.” He removed his hand from hers. Laurel had planted a seed of doubt in his mind, but Aaron wasn’t sure he wanted to encourage her to pursue this matter. Maybe she had seen Sargasso. Let’s face it, if he’d gotten hold of the money, he had fifteen million really good reasons to do a runner. On the other hand, there really wasn’t anything concrete to go on.
“ Well, I have to find out.” Her voice evened out. “There’s Monica and all the real victims of
Laurel rolled her eyes and turned back to Aaron. “From what I’ve heard about Hammersmith, he was just as ruthless in his personal life as he was in business. He was one of those private collectors who’d pay any price to have what he wanted and God help anyone who got in his way.” Laurel reached for her wine and twirled the glass by the stem. “I suspect he wasn’t too concerned about how Moto had acquired this particular painting, as long as it was the blockbuster he expected.”
“ And Jeff?” Aaron’s words held the hint of suspicion. “How particular was he? Would he also do whatever it took to make a sale like this and walk away with a huge commission?”
“ I don’t know.” Laurel continued to fiddle with her glass.
He reached across the table to still her hand. “Laurel, did anyone but Jeff have the access codes to the holding account or could someone else have gotten hold of them? That’s a lot of money to be stashed away unaccounted for and untouched for the last eight years. What about his family? Did they know what bank Hammersmith was using?”
Laurel shook her head. “No, they didn’t. His wife and sons tried everything they could to find out, but it was useless. They couldn’t determine which Swiss bank was holding the money. Even if they did, the bank would never have released it without the codes.”
“ So the Hammersmith family wasn’t privy to the deal.”
“ The way I understand it, Jeff and Alfred Hammersmith were the only two people who knew the codes, and that’s presupposing that the meeting had gotten that far. If the codes were in Hammersmith’s computer or written down anywhere in his office, they’d have been destroyed in the fire.
“ What about Monica?” asked Aaron. “Did Jeff tell her anything about the deal?”
Laurel shook her head. “No. Nothing. She was questioned about it at great length by the police, the FBI, and Hammersmith’s people.” She shuddered at the memory of what her friend had gone through. “It was horrible for her. All that suspicion heaped on her, people impugning Jeff’s reputation. And of course, he was gone, vanished, with no one to defend him but Monica.” She looked directly at Aaron. “I’m sure she told them everything she knew about the deal. Why, what are you thinking?”
“ I don’t know.” Aaron was absorbing the information Laurel had provided, contemplating possible ways this deal could have played out. He was trying to assess how his next question would affect her. “Was Jeff’s body ever identified?” he asked gently.
“ Hammersmith’s was, through DNA. But no, Jeff’s was among the one thousand one hundred sixty one that weren’t. We put up posters at bus stops, train stations, and in the parks. We asked for information online, like so many people, but I don’t think his body will ever be identified.” She looked at Aaron again, this time her eyes flashing with a hard spark of anger. He was sure she was recalling the man she’d seen earlier. “How could it be?” she spat out bitterly. “There can’t be a body to identify when the person is still alive.”
“ Don’t get ahead of yourself here. We don’t know for sure that the man was Jeff Sargasso. We’d need a lot more evidence.” He removed his hand from hers. Laurel had planted a seed of doubt in his mind, but Aaron wasn’t sure he wanted to encourage her to pursue this matter. Maybe she had seen Sargasso. Let’s face it, if he’d gotten hold of the money, he had fifteen million really good reasons to do a runner. On the other hand, there really wasn’t anything concrete to go on.
“ Well, I have to find out.” Her voice evened out. “There’s Monica and all the real victims of
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