Chapter 7: The Offer
He suggested a restaurant.
Neutral ground, he said, as if we were diplomats.
I suggested Grace's conference room, with Grace present.
He agreed without hesitation, which told me he had already decided what he was going to say and didn't particularly care who heard it.
He was smaller than I expected.
Neat.
A gray suit, no tie, the kind of shoes that cost more than most people's rent.
He sat down across from Grace and me and folded his hands on the table and smiled the way people smile when they want you to know the smile means nothing.
"I'll be direct," he said.
"Please," Grace said.
"The documents you obtained from Sondra Vane were taken from my firm's private archive without authorization.
Whatever you believe they show, they were acquired through means that create significant legal exposure for you."
"We'll manage our exposure," Grace said.
"Thank you."
"The contract you photographed is not what it appears to be." He didn't look at Grace.
He looked at me.
"The engagement was for legitimate asset recovery following a business dispute.
The language is standard for that type of work."
"The payment was four hundred thousand dollars," I said.
"For a business dispute."
"Complex matters require complex solutions."
"Diane Hargrove nearly dr0wned."
His expression didn't change.
"Mrs.
Hargrove had a documented history of erratic behavior.
Her accident was investigated and closed.
I had nothing to do with what happened on that bridge."
"But you were paid four hundred thousand dollars by Celeste Hargrove two weeks before it happened," I said.
"And the contract references asset recovery in connection with a named individual whose initials are D.H."
Something shifted behind his eyes.
Just for a moment.
"I'm prepared to offer you something," he said.
"In exchange for the return of those documents and a signed agreement that you will not share their contents with any law enforcement agency."
"And what are you offering?" I said.
He reached into his jacket and placed a single folded page on the table.
I didn't touch it.
Grace picked it up, read it, and set it back down.
"He's offering to provide testimony against Adrian," she said to me.
"Full cooperation with the federal fraud investigation.
Names, dates, transaction records.
Everything."
"In exchange for immunity from any investigation into the Hargrove matter," Collier said.
"And the return of Sondra's documents."
The room was quiet.
I looked at the page on the table.
"You're frightened," I said.
"I'm practical."
"You're frightened because you know what's in those documents and you know what a federal prosecutor will do with them." I leaned forward slightly.
"You came here because you thought I wanted the fraud case.
You thought that was the prize and you could trade Diane for Adrian." I paused.
"But I already have the fraud case.
I built it myself over eight months.
I don't need your testimony."
His hands, still folded on the table, tightened slightly.
"What I want," I said, "is a signed statement.
From you.
Describing in full detail the nature of the engagement, who initiated contact, what was requested, what was paid, and what you understood the outcome to be.
Not to the federal prosecutor.
To Diane's attorney.
For her civil case."
"That would expose me to—"
"Yes," I said.
"It would."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"And if I refuse?"
Grace slid a folder across the table.
"Then Sondra's documents go to Agent Reeves this afternoon, along with a detailed memo explaining how we obtained them and why we believe they are relevant to an ongoing federal investigation."
Collier opened the folder.
Looked at the top page.
Closed it.
He sat back.
For the first time since he walked in, he looked like what he was — a man who had spent years believing he was the one holding the exit, discovering there wasn't one.
"I need to speak with my attorney," he said.
"Of course," Grace said.
"You have until five o'clock."
May you like
He called at four forty-seven.
He would sign.
