What he can do to help. Nice way of putting it. “That would be fine.” He gave her the address of his office in White Plains and they made an appointment for two days later.
Chapter
5
Pam expected the offices of Jannson Security Services to be in a slightly seedy building on the outskirts of White Plains, but when she arrived at the address she found a seven-story steel and glass building in the heart of the business district. She drove around until she found a municipal parking lot and put enough money in the meter for three hours. She had no idea how long she’d have to wait.
She was nervous and it surprised her. She hadn’t anticipated the trembling in her knees as she crossed the street to his building. What was she afraid of? Maybe it was as simple as fear of knowing that she’d finally find out what had been going on. She’d been able to talk herself in and then out of several scenarios over the past forty-eight hours. It couldn’t be any of the things she’d been thinking. CF+Co was sure to turn out to be something totally innocent. If it wasn’t, did she really want to know? she asked herself for the thousandth time. Yes, she needed to find out.
The company office was on the fourth floor, and when she opened the door she found as lovely an office as she could envision, a look she’d tried to get for DePalma Advertising, warm, accepting, friendly without being too intimate or too flashy. The furnishings in the reception area were in muted shades of off-whites and browns, ranging from ecru to toast, with accents of deep royal blue. A gigantic sofa upholstered in a nubby oatmeal tweed was flanked by several matching chairs and two done in tan leather. The landscape over the sofa was probably not an old master, but had the feel of quality. A low white ash coffee table was covered with current issues of everything from House Beautiful to USA Today. They didn’t look particularly well thumbed. She wondered whether that meant that not many people were left waiting for long or that the company’s clients brought their own work.
She was five minutes early but when she introduced herself to the receptionist, a fortyish woman with little make-up, neat hair and, Pam was sure, sensible shoes, the well-turned-out woman said, “Of course, Ms. DePalma. Mr. Jannson will be with you in just a moment.”
She buzzed him and almost immediately motioned to a hallway. “Through there, first door on the left.”
As Pam walked toward the door the receptionist had indicated, it was opened by a man who was the antithesis of everything she’d expected. Rather than being someone like Columbo, Gary Jannson was of medium height, with a head full of blond curls that would have done beautifully on a fashion model. Or an angel. His deep blue eyes flashed and his smile was broad. He extended a well-manicured hand. “Ms. DePalma. It’s nice to meet you.”
He ushered her into his office, done in the same calming color family, this time in shades of eggshell and caramel. Calming? She realized that her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. She smoothed them down the flanks of her deep green pants and slipped the matching jacket off her shoulders, draping it on the back of a leather chair. Her blouse was silk, patterned in thin forest green stripes on an off-white background, her jewelry simple, classic chunky gold. She made herself as comfortable as she could while Gary Jannson made his way to his chair and settled easily. “If you don’t mind, Ms. DePalma, I’m going to make some notes as we talk.”
“Of course. And it’s Pam. We’ll never get anywhere being formal.”
His smile widened, showing even, white teeth. “Good. I’m Gary. Only my father rates the Mr. Jannson stuff. Can I get you some coffee? A soft drink or a bottle of water, perhaps?”
“No, nothing, thank you.” She was too nervous to think of putting anything in her stomach. She inhaled, then realized that she didn’t quite know where to begin. She shifted in her chair.
“I’m sure this is difficult for you,” Gary said, “so why don’t you take your time and tell me what the problem is.”
“You spoke to Mark Redmond?”
“He told me only that you might need some discreet inquiries made. He didn’t elaborate.”
Pam took a deep breath. “I guess that’s for the best. It’s not something I want everyone and his brother to know about. I need to know what CF+Co is.” She said the name as Cee Eff Plus Co.
“Just that?”
“I won’t know whether I want anything else until I know the answer to that question.”
Gary swivelled his chair around and tapped a few keys on his computer.
“I already tried Google,” Pam said.
“Okay. I have a few other resources. Let me see what I can find.” His long, slender pianist’s fingers flew over the keyboard. Occasionally he’d make small humphing noises. “I can’t find anything right off the top. Are you sure they exist?”
She handed him one of the credit card statements. “I see,” he said, looking them over. “Maybe you’d better tell me a little more about why you want to know about them.”
She spent the next few minutes telling Gary only the bare minimum, that her husband had been killed in a traffic accident and she’d found these statements about which she’d known nothing before.
“I’m sorry about your husband’s death, Pam.”
“It’s been almost four months and it’s not quite as raw as it was.”
“Are you afraid he was leading some kind of secret life?”
“I don’t know anything more than what I’ve shown you. I don’t know what it means at all. All I know is that, to my calculations, he’s charged almost a hundred thousand dollars to this company in the last year or so.”
“It doesn’t take much to create an identity to make the credit card companies happy. It could be almost anything.”
“I know that, but there are a few things at the top of my list.”
“Like?”
“Another woman. I thought this might be some real estate venture where he’d set up someone in her own apartment, like that.”
“What else?”
“Drugs, gambling, I don’t know. How many illegal activities take credit cards?”
“A lot more than one might expect, actually. Why don’t you let me put one of my best financial guys on this and I’ll get back to you in a day or two?”
“I assume you’ll want a retainer.”
He grinned. “I take credit cards.”
She smiled for the first time since she entered his office. She reached into her purse and withdrew her checkbook. “How much?”
He told her his hourly rate and she wrote a check for five hours of his time. “Of course my associates bill at a slightly lower figure. Don’t worry about the money. It will take care of itself, and if there’s anything left over when we’re done I’ll be glad to refund it.”
She dropped her chin. “One of the problems since my husband’s death is that my funds are limited.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Pam. Don’t be concerned. I promise I won’t rack up thousands of dollars of expenses without consulting with you first. This should be pretty straightforward.”
“That’s fine.” She didn’t like the idea of coming across as some poor waif, but maybe she should get used to that image. She really didn’t want to get into details with this man, but he was so easy to talk to that she almost poured out the entire story. She could see why people trusted him to find out their deepest secrets.
“Good. If we have to go into things more deeply I’ll ask for specific authorization and give you estimates. No surprises. For now, let me see what I can find out about CF+Co.”