He Will be My Ruin
Page 77
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December 15, 2015
“I think it’s safe to say we have enough proof that Grady was paying Celine for sex,” I mutter. And she enjoyed it, based on her diary, so it makes sense that she’d agree to it on a regular basis. Hell, I was doing it on a regular basis—for free—because I enjoyed it with him. Now the very idea makes me want to vomit. “But do we think he took the vase, too?” Where does that play into this? It has to play in, somewhere.
“Well, I did find this.” Zac scrolls through the company info page. “See this engineering company here? It’s based in Beijing and owned by Jin Chou, one of the richest men in China. Grady did some contract work for Chou’s company back in 2011, and then again in 2013, only that was for Chou’s private home. The guy obviously trusts him.”
“So the guy is Chinese. Not exactly a smoking gun for art theft,” I say.
Zac waves a dismissive hand. “What’s interesting about Chou is that it’s rumored he’s involved in black market trade. Mainly iPhone rip-offs that are sold to India and Thailand. If I were a guy like Grady, who got his hands on a major Chinese art find like this and was afraid to sell it out in the open in case someone started asking questions, the first thing I’d do is call up my rich Chinese buddy who likes to make money and probably doesn’t care about going through regular channels to do it, and say, ‘Hey Jin Chou, how should I sell this thing? I’ll split the money with you.’ ”
I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “And Jin Chou would say, ‘Holy shit, sell it to me because then I can turn around and taunt Li Jie with it.’ ” Zac hits a few keys and a face shows up on another monitor, of an unsmiling Asian man in a charcoal-gray suit. “This is the guy who bought the twin vase with the phoenix on it, back in ninety-six. Another obscenely rich Chinese guy, who owns a communications company. And both Chou and Jie are members of the same private member’s club in Beijing.”
“Huh.” Maybe it’s just me wanting it to be true, but that definitely is a connection. I look to Doug for his opinion and find him giving me that knowing nod. “Two degrees of separation between Grady and the man who, arguably, would want that vase the most. Of anyone in the world. That’s something.”
Jesus. What if Celine did tell Grady about the vase—about how valuable it could be—and he decided to get rid of her so he could take it? Or maybe she didn’t need to tell him. He probably was monitoring her computer—like everything else to do with her—and read her blog post.
While I ponder this, Doug drags a whiteboard easel over and turns it around to unveil a mess of scribbled handwriting in orange and blue markers. A vertical line splits the board into two, the larger half marked “Prime Suspect” across the top, the narrow half labeled “Other Suspects” with names, possible motives, and question marks in boxes. They’re there because a good investigator doesn’t entirely dismiss them until he knows he can.
But if we’re being honest, this board is all about Grady.
“So here’s the best possible scenario, based on what the diary and Jace told us, and what we think we know about Grady. Plus a little bit of conjecture.” He starts at the top, where it says “July.” “Jace and Celine meet at Hollingsworth, by chance. Celine also meets James Grady in the Langham, for paid sex. We are going to assume, based on Grady’s technical abilities, and the fact that he was very likely invading Celine’s personal life on multiple levels, that this meeting wasn’t a coincidence. If the eighty-one-year-old neighbor pegged her moonlighting career, you can bet he did, too. He’s likely been watching her for months, monitoring her phone backup and her computer, spying on her through that lobby camera. Maybe he knew about her mother’s health situation, and how desperate Celine was getting for money. He figured out who Larissa Savoy was and called her, asking for a pretty Hispanic woman. Maybe he even hacked into Larissa’s life, just enough to have a client referral name to throw out.”
“He’s that good,” Zac confirms, his face showing his awe.
“Based on Celine’s written records, escorting was a part-time thing, only once or twice a week, mainly on weekends. She had a bad experience near the end of July and quit working for Larissa entirely. Maybe she wrote about it in the diary that’s missing. Maybe Grady read it while she was out. He doesn’t want to share her anyway, so he offers her a chance to still make money while feeling safe, and of course she takes it, because she’s a young, beautiful woman and he’s a young, attractive man and she’d rather be sucking his dick than that of some sweaty sixty-year-old stranger. Okay, fine, that was a bit harsh—” Doug holds a hand up to silence me before I chastise him.
“But why would he want to pay for it? He’s attractive. He’d have no issues finding someone else.” I know that for a fact.
Doug’s eyebrows spike and he says nothing, as if waiting for my wits to start working.
“Because he doesn’t want anyone else. And because he couldn’t catch her interest otherwise. He probably already tried.” Jace’s guess isn’t so crazy after all.
“Bingo. She doesn’t want the blue-collar apartment super.”
“He also isn’t blond,” I mumble to myself, though I’m guessing it had nothing to do with that and everything to do with his perceived earning potential and future ambitions. Celine dreamed of a life of financial comfort, and she admired men with drive and goals.
A guy who changes the lightbulbs doesn’t fit any of that. But . . . “If he’s doing this tech stuff, then he’s not exactly blue collar. He must be getting paid really well.” Which must be how he’d been able to afford Celine.
“Still looking for an account to verify that, but yeah, he’d definitely be making some good dough with these gigs,” Zac says. “Thing is, he’s known for being hard to nail down. He was supposed to speak at another conference I was at and just didn’t show up. No reason. He tends to disappear off the radar for months at a time and then reappear to break something or fix something.”
“So, not very reliable.” And, oddly enough, he’s the exact opposite when it comes to his job in the apartment building.
“Okay,” Doug says, tapping on the whiteboard with a capped marker. “So Celine and Grady have their arrangement, and then not a couple weeks later she begins dating Jace Everett—the man she obviously wants to be with. But she doesn’t end things with Grady.”
“I think it’s safe to say we have enough proof that Grady was paying Celine for sex,” I mutter. And she enjoyed it, based on her diary, so it makes sense that she’d agree to it on a regular basis. Hell, I was doing it on a regular basis—for free—because I enjoyed it with him. Now the very idea makes me want to vomit. “But do we think he took the vase, too?” Where does that play into this? It has to play in, somewhere.
“Well, I did find this.” Zac scrolls through the company info page. “See this engineering company here? It’s based in Beijing and owned by Jin Chou, one of the richest men in China. Grady did some contract work for Chou’s company back in 2011, and then again in 2013, only that was for Chou’s private home. The guy obviously trusts him.”
“So the guy is Chinese. Not exactly a smoking gun for art theft,” I say.
Zac waves a dismissive hand. “What’s interesting about Chou is that it’s rumored he’s involved in black market trade. Mainly iPhone rip-offs that are sold to India and Thailand. If I were a guy like Grady, who got his hands on a major Chinese art find like this and was afraid to sell it out in the open in case someone started asking questions, the first thing I’d do is call up my rich Chinese buddy who likes to make money and probably doesn’t care about going through regular channels to do it, and say, ‘Hey Jin Chou, how should I sell this thing? I’ll split the money with you.’ ”
I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “And Jin Chou would say, ‘Holy shit, sell it to me because then I can turn around and taunt Li Jie with it.’ ” Zac hits a few keys and a face shows up on another monitor, of an unsmiling Asian man in a charcoal-gray suit. “This is the guy who bought the twin vase with the phoenix on it, back in ninety-six. Another obscenely rich Chinese guy, who owns a communications company. And both Chou and Jie are members of the same private member’s club in Beijing.”
“Huh.” Maybe it’s just me wanting it to be true, but that definitely is a connection. I look to Doug for his opinion and find him giving me that knowing nod. “Two degrees of separation between Grady and the man who, arguably, would want that vase the most. Of anyone in the world. That’s something.”
Jesus. What if Celine did tell Grady about the vase—about how valuable it could be—and he decided to get rid of her so he could take it? Or maybe she didn’t need to tell him. He probably was monitoring her computer—like everything else to do with her—and read her blog post.
While I ponder this, Doug drags a whiteboard easel over and turns it around to unveil a mess of scribbled handwriting in orange and blue markers. A vertical line splits the board into two, the larger half marked “Prime Suspect” across the top, the narrow half labeled “Other Suspects” with names, possible motives, and question marks in boxes. They’re there because a good investigator doesn’t entirely dismiss them until he knows he can.
But if we’re being honest, this board is all about Grady.
“So here’s the best possible scenario, based on what the diary and Jace told us, and what we think we know about Grady. Plus a little bit of conjecture.” He starts at the top, where it says “July.” “Jace and Celine meet at Hollingsworth, by chance. Celine also meets James Grady in the Langham, for paid sex. We are going to assume, based on Grady’s technical abilities, and the fact that he was very likely invading Celine’s personal life on multiple levels, that this meeting wasn’t a coincidence. If the eighty-one-year-old neighbor pegged her moonlighting career, you can bet he did, too. He’s likely been watching her for months, monitoring her phone backup and her computer, spying on her through that lobby camera. Maybe he knew about her mother’s health situation, and how desperate Celine was getting for money. He figured out who Larissa Savoy was and called her, asking for a pretty Hispanic woman. Maybe he even hacked into Larissa’s life, just enough to have a client referral name to throw out.”
“He’s that good,” Zac confirms, his face showing his awe.
“Based on Celine’s written records, escorting was a part-time thing, only once or twice a week, mainly on weekends. She had a bad experience near the end of July and quit working for Larissa entirely. Maybe she wrote about it in the diary that’s missing. Maybe Grady read it while she was out. He doesn’t want to share her anyway, so he offers her a chance to still make money while feeling safe, and of course she takes it, because she’s a young, beautiful woman and he’s a young, attractive man and she’d rather be sucking his dick than that of some sweaty sixty-year-old stranger. Okay, fine, that was a bit harsh—” Doug holds a hand up to silence me before I chastise him.
“But why would he want to pay for it? He’s attractive. He’d have no issues finding someone else.” I know that for a fact.
Doug’s eyebrows spike and he says nothing, as if waiting for my wits to start working.
“Because he doesn’t want anyone else. And because he couldn’t catch her interest otherwise. He probably already tried.” Jace’s guess isn’t so crazy after all.
“Bingo. She doesn’t want the blue-collar apartment super.”
“He also isn’t blond,” I mumble to myself, though I’m guessing it had nothing to do with that and everything to do with his perceived earning potential and future ambitions. Celine dreamed of a life of financial comfort, and she admired men with drive and goals.
A guy who changes the lightbulbs doesn’t fit any of that. But . . . “If he’s doing this tech stuff, then he’s not exactly blue collar. He must be getting paid really well.” Which must be how he’d been able to afford Celine.
“Still looking for an account to verify that, but yeah, he’d definitely be making some good dough with these gigs,” Zac says. “Thing is, he’s known for being hard to nail down. He was supposed to speak at another conference I was at and just didn’t show up. No reason. He tends to disappear off the radar for months at a time and then reappear to break something or fix something.”
“So, not very reliable.” And, oddly enough, he’s the exact opposite when it comes to his job in the apartment building.
“Okay,” Doug says, tapping on the whiteboard with a capped marker. “So Celine and Grady have their arrangement, and then not a couple weeks later she begins dating Jace Everett—the man she obviously wants to be with. But she doesn’t end things with Grady.”
