Victim of Convenience. John Ballem

had proceeded in silence for several minutes.

      Chris laughed. "Been watching old movies again? I know what you're thinking, but it won't fly. Okay, let's review the bidding."

      "Now who's been watching old movies? What we have just learned could be the lead we've been looking for."

      "All we've learned is that my good friend Tom Forsyth has come into a nice piece of change."

      "Yes, 2.4 million to be precise. With the taxman waiting to grab his share. You always say that good police work involves eliminating possibilities. Let's see if we can eliminate your good friend Mr. Tom Forsyth."

      "Okay. Here we go. We know he received a large amount of cash sometime last March. He is knowledgeable about these things, what the securities people call a sophisticated investor, so he would know one of the most effective ways to reduce income taxes is to purchase flow-through shares."

      "I know there are such things as flow-through shares, but just how do they work?"

      "An oil company that is not liable to pay income taxes, because of deductible expenditures or previous tax losses, issues shares and renounces the tax deductions created by its exploration activities to the shareholders, who can then deduct from their taxable income."

      "So Forsyth buys some flow-through shares?"

      "We don't know that. But it's not an unreasonable assumption. Tom deals with the same stockbroker as I do, a guy by the name of Jack Adams. Jack was very high on the Madison flow-throughs when they first came out, so, as I say, that's not an unreasonable assumption."

      "Let's make it. Then what?"

      "The plot begins to thicken. Many companies, in fact most of them, require the owners of their flow-through shares to hold on to them for a period of time, often as much as a year." It wasn't necessary to mention that this was something Chris always avoided when purchasing flow-through shares for his own account.

      "Which is why we spent so much time at McKinley, asking all those questions about Madison Energy."

      "Correct. The hold period on the Madison shares expired just days before that announcement sent them down the toilet."

      "So anyone who sold as soon as the shares were free to trade would be one happy camper?"

      "To put it mildly. Very mildly."

      "Someone must have known what was happening before they came out with that press release. Someone in the know."

      "Absolutely. Wells have been known to water out in an amazingly short time, but not overnight."

      "Vinney would be one of those who would know. Wouldn't she?"

      "Almost certainly. She was working on the prospectus for a new share issue. The Lost Horse field going to water is a material fact that would have to be disclosed." Now there was an understatement!

      "Ms. Vinney was famous for her integrity."

      "As we have just been told." Chris braked to a sudden stop as a black Lexus ran a red light. Fortunately their speed was reduced to little more than a crawl in the busy and congested Kensington district. "Calgary drivers think a yellow light is a signal to step on the gas," he muttered.

      Gwen, who had heard this complaint many times in the past, merely smiled. "We also know that Mrs. Forsyth was away in the Caribbean. Did they have any children?" "One boy. A young teenager. He's in the East, attending a boarding school."

      "So your friend Forsyth is free to come and go as he pleases."

      "True. You and I have built a nice theoretical case, Gwen. But it's all based on unproven assumptions with not one iota of evidence linking Forsyth to the Vinney killing. Without evidence, there's no case."

      "We haven't been looking for it. Evidence, I mean."

      "That's true. Not yet anyhow. We can at least find out if he had a motive. I'll pay a little visit to our broker friend in the morning. He's not been all that forthcoming so far, claiming client confidentiality. But I think I know how to make him co-operate. And then there's the matter of transportation. We know Vinney was moved from the actual murder scene to the park. Forsyth usually lunches at the Petroleum Club, at the community table. Why don't you park outside the club tomorrow at noon and take his picture if he shows up? We'll have someone take it around to the car rental outlets to see if he rented a vehicle, most likely an SUV, at the critical time."

      Chris fell silent for a moment to concentrate on a difficult lane change so he could head east on 5th Avenue. That accomplished, he continued in an almost musing tone, "Of course, there's another possibility. How about this? Scott was setting us up. Making us think of Tom Forsyth as a potential suspect."

      Gwen almost giggled. "What a delightfully evil mind you have! But aren't they the best of friends?"

      "They are. But best friends have been known to betray each other. Maybe he knows Tom has an alibi. Or maybe Scott just had too much to drink."

      "Well, that we know for sure."

      Chris waited until eight o'clock, when the market would have been open for half an hour and the early rush of trading would have subsided somewhat, before taking the LRT to the low-rise building where Acute Capital was located. Jack was the principal partner of the brokerage house and prided himself on running a no-frills operation. The office reflected that approach. Under a high ceiling with exposed beams and rafters, the space was completely open, with no private offices or cubicles, only rows of desks crowded together. Like the set-up at Major Crimes, thought Chris. Phones, their muted rings barely audible, rang constantly. Jack's expression as he shook hands with Chris was an uneasy mixture of the welcome due an important client and wariness.

      "Jack, I realize you are troubled over this business of client confidentiality, but this is a murder investigation."

      "What murder? As if I didn't know."

      "You know all right. The lawyer, Adrienne Vinney. Did you know her?"

      Was there a flicker of hesitation on Jack's part before he replied? "I know of her, of course. She was well known in financial circles, because of the files she handled."

      "Let's cut to the chase, Jack. Last Tuesday, 102,000 shares of Madison traded. Ten times the normal volume."

      "Not surprising. It happens every time a stock comes out of hold."

      "Understandable. Just give me the names of the sellers."

      "You know I can't do that, Chris. Client confidentiality is the cornerstone of this business."

      "It looks like you're forcing me to get a search warrant, Jack. That means a police squad will take over your office, go through your records, and question your staff." It was a bluff. The chances of obtaining a warrant from even the most accommodating judge were almost nonexistent on the basis of what they knew. It was all surmise, with no evidence. In fact, Chris couldn't see himself swearing the necessary affidavit to support an application for a warrant. Even old Jepson, a Provincial Court judge notoriously biased in favour of the police, wouldn't buy it. "Maybe a warrant is the best way to go, Jack. Then your clients will know you had no choice."

      Jack sighed. "I like you better as a client, Chris. But what can I do? Hang on a minute while I go to the back office and look up the trading summary for May 27."