Two Jakes by Lawrence de Maria

the
phone, but if it were true there was no way our family should get in bed with
him. I pressed him on the details, asked him to send me what he had, but he was
reluctant. Given their past battles, Josh knew my brother would question his
objectivity. He was probably also trying to protect me. He would have wanted
ironclad proof.” Shields finished his brandy. “Josh was a good journalist. He
wanted to give the company a chance to respond. He said he was heading down to
Antigua to tie up some loose ends.”
    “Why
Antigua?”
    “Ballantrae
International Bank is domiciled there.” Shields took out a handkerchief, blew
his nose and wiped his eyes. “Sorry. He never made it.”
    Scarne
gave Shields a moment to compose himself.
    “He
must have left copies of his story or notes. Did you call his paper?”
    “Not
right away. When I didn’t hear from Josh, I assumed he was traveling. It was
two days…before his body…washed ashore. We were in shock. Flew down to bring
him home. Went to his apartment to gather his personal things. It was
particularly tough on Adele, seeing the shell collection he’d started as a boy.
Magnificent specimens, some quite rare. She insisted on taking most of them
home.”
    Shields
took a long sip from his water glass and stared at Scarne, his eyes clear. When
he spoke, his voice had a new determination.
    “Losing
Josh killed my wife. She didn’t even bother to fight the cancer. These last few
months, I just concentrated on helping her. No time for anything else. But
after she passed, I decided to see what Josh had found out about Ballantrae.
Not only might it help the company, but it could also be a fitting memorial for
my son to get his story in print.”
    “What
had he discovered?”
    Shields
shook his head and looked exasperated.
    “I
don’t have a clue! When I called Josh’s editors they said they knew he was
working on something about Ballantrae but didn’t know what it was.”
    “Isn’t
that a bit unusual?”
    “They
apparently give their reporters a lot of leeway. Besides, Josh probably kept
things close to his vest. He wouldn’t want anything leaking out. And their
reporters typically wrote their articles on laptops and emailed them. They
didn’t have his laptop. Wanted to know if I did.”
    “Didn’t
you?”
    “No.
In hindsight, we should have wondered about that. But we were half out of our
minds when we went through his apartment. Even if I noticed it missing, I probably
would have assumed it was at his office. I called the building manager and
asked him to go into Josh’s apartment, which hasn’t been touched except for a
monthly cleaning. I haven’t had the heart to sell it, or his car. Anyway, I
told him to look for the computer. It wasn’t there.”
    “Sometimes
cleaning people help themselves,” Scarne interjected. “And maybe it wasn’t the
first time the super had been in the apartment. It happens.”
    “I
thought of that. So I flew down. Looked everywhere. No computer. No flash
drives, notebooks or anything like that. A computer is valuable, but scraps of
paper? It was as if Josh never existed as a journalist.”
    “Did
you check his car?”
    Shields
smiled.
    “Almost
didn’t. It was Mario who suggested it.”
    “Mario?”
    “He’s
the building concierge. He was fond of Josh and took care of his car. Still
does. Solid fellow. Helped me search the apartment and the car. Nothing.”
    Scarne
had to admit the whole thing smelled a bit off. But still…
    “Mr.
Shields, respected, hell, even crooked, billionaires hire lawyers, not hit men.
What could Ballantrae possibly be involved in that justifies murder?”
    “I
don’t like the son of a bitch but I can’t imagine what it could be. I obviously
don’t have anything I can bring to the authorities. They think I’m a crackpot.
Randolph is the only reason they humored me as long as they did. But they
convinced him it was an accident. When I told the police about the computer and
missing notes, they