“All right. Then there’s your wife, or almost ex-wife. The only reason I can see that she would have an interest in your dying now is the fact that she knows she won’t get anything once the divorce is final other than what’s in the settlement.” Fairchild turned to look at Casey. “Will she make out well when that happens?”
Smiling slightly he replied, “Not as well as she probably thinks she will.” He paused when Duke tried to pull his arm off to get to a cat sitting on a neighbor’s front porch hissing at him. The two had an adversarial relationship since the cat knew Duke couldn’t get to her.
“My brother’s partner is a lawyer,” Casey continued once they were well away from the cat. “He helped me move substantial amounts of cash out of the country while making it appear on the books that my business was bringing in less money. That legitimized the apparent loss of funds.”
Fairchild nodded. “How long ago did that happen?”
“The majority of it six months ago more or less, when I decided that my marriage was probably going to be a thing of the past very soon. Sammy and whoever he had helping him know what their doing so the money’s untouchable except by me.”
“And him, as he set it up,” Fairchild pointed out.
“I suppose that’s possible since he’d have the information but why would he take the chance? It’s not as if he and Bing need more money than they have already.”
“You might be surprised what someone will do if they think they can get their hands on a sizable chunk of change, and if you were to die he’s the only one who could touch it, the only one who knows about it.”
“Not true. I told Bing a couple of weeks ago, right after Kathy kicked me out of our house.”
Fairchild made note of that, tapping the tip of his pen on the notebook afterwards. “There’s no end of people who might have a reason to want you dead. I suppose you should be happy that whoever is trying to do this wants to make it look like an accident, or in the last case like suicide. Otherwise you could have someone taking potshots at you from rooftops.”
Casey couldn’t help it; he quickly glanced at the roofs around them. “Not a pleasant idea. Maybe I should just donate everything to charity.”
“That could take some time,” Fairchild replied seriously, “and give the person doing this even more incentive to see you dead quickly.”
“I suppose. Is that the end of the list, I hope?”
“Other than Mr. Harman.”
“Thomas? No way. He’s too, to be honest too prissy to even think of doing something like this.”
“Mr. Rothem, believe me when I say there isn’t anyone who wouldn’t kill someone else if the incentive was right. And owning a business like yours would be quite the incentive.”
“I guess,” Casey said dejectedly.
“Don’t worry, we’re going to catch this person before he or she succeeds.”
“Your words to God’s ear. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”
Fairchild nodded. “Yes, one more thing.”