“He couldn’t know it wouldn’t,” Ray Dean said, “and he wouldn’t take that kind of risk. Not for a low-rent putz like Drew Harrigan. I’ve known a million Neil Savages. Trust me. Then there’s me, of course, and that’s perfectly possible, but I promise you the right to look through all my records at the bank, no matter how confidential, so you can check.”
“Fair enough.”
“Then there’s Kate Daniel, but the times don’t work. She didn’t have anything to do with this case until well after the offer was made. Of course, she was married to Savage once—”
“—Was she?”
“Years ago, when they were both just out of law school. She had a feminist epiphany and ran away from home. Of course, they could still be close. I have no idea if they are or not, but I’ve met them both, and I’d doubt it. And it goes back to that risk thing. It’s too close a connection to trust that it wouldn’t get caught.”
“How does a woman like Kate Daniel get enough money to open an account in an investment bank?”
“She inherits it,” Ray Dean said. “Then we’ve got Frank Sheehy. That’s a real possibility. A lot of the success of his business depended on Drew Harrigan. He was losing money because of the rehab thing. It was worth his while to do anything he had to do to get Drew Harrigan straightened out and back on the air. I can’t really rule out Frank Sheehy. Even the murder fits, if you think about it. Whoever was getting Drew Harrigan the drugs killed Sheehy because Sheehy knew all about it, or maybe Sheehy was getting Harrigan the drugs. I’m not very good at this, am I? I’ve thought about writing a murder mystery, but I keep getting worried I’d end up at the end of the book babbling like this.”
“I want to know why you think it was Dr. Tyler who tried to buy that piece of land.”
“Because Jig Tyler was feeding material to Drew Harrigan,” Ray Dean said. “He’d been doing it for months, at least. He might have been doing it for longer.”
“And you know that—”
Ray Dean looked at the ceiling. “Because he fed something to Drew about me. Last November. Three days before Thanksgiving, we were at a party together. He contributes to causes. The causes have parties. He goes. I’ve always found that one of the oddest things about him. Anyway, I had just come from the office, where I’d realized that I was going to have to turn down a donation we’d gotten that very afternoon, a big donation, in six figures, because I’d finally figured out who the donor was.”
“Who was it?”
“Charles Scherver. He doesn’t call himself that anymore. He changed his name when he got out of prison, but it was Charles Scherver nonetheless, the most famous American traitor in the history of the Cold War. If we’d taken the donation, it would have come out. We’re required to make our list of donors public. Anyway, by the time I tracked it down it was late, and there was nobody in the office, and I went to this party. And I got to talking to Dr. Tyler, and then, just as we were waiting for our cars on our way out, I told him about it. We were talking about donations versus public financing of charitable works, and Tyler was doing one of his shticks about the evils of capitalism, and I let loose with all the checks and balances there are on donations, and I told him about it. And then his car picked him up, and he was gone. The next morning—the very next morning—eleven o’clock sharp, Drew Harrigan led with the story on his broadcast.”
“Maybe somebody overheard you.”
“There was nobody there to overhear.”
“Maybe he told a friend, who told Harrigan.”
“Maybe,” Ray Dean said, “but I don’t believe it, and neither do you. It was too fast. He must have gone home and gotten on the phone right away, if he didn’t use a cell in the car. It’s the kind of stupid little thing that causes us no end of trouble because it gets all the ‘patriot’ groups mad at us—note that I’ve got mental scare quotes around the word ‘patriot’—and they make a lot of noise, and they bring our donations down.”
“Even if he did give that information to Drew Harrigan,” Gregor Demarkian said carefully, “that doesn’t mean he also tried to buy the property from the nuns, does it?”
“No,” Ray Dean said. “But.” He shrugged. “It was the connection. That started me looking. That’s what made me ask questions. Jig Tyler is the person who tried to buy that land from the monastery, Mr. Demarkian. I know it for sure.”
“How?”