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“Even so.” Judy’s eyes narrowed in thought. “So what are the implications? What’s Machiavelli up to?”

  “I think I know,” Mary answered, when it hit her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “Let me break it down for you,” Mary said, standing in front of the easel with the diagram about the data integration business. She, Bennie, Judy, and Anne had come back to the firm after the luncheon, for an emergency meeting with Roger and Isaac. Anthony had taken her parents and The Tonys home, and the Hodges had taken William back to the hotel, leaving Mary remarkably energized, having figured out Machiavelli’s scheme. Lou had gone back to the scene to keep investigating and he’d promised her that he’d keep an open mind about Machiavelli’s being the culprit. She knew in her heart that Machiavelli was guilty of John’s murder, but she couldn’t prove that yet.

  Mary pointed to London Technologies on the diagram. “Allow me to remind you that London Technologies developed data integration software that enabled furniture manufacturers to store and organize their own data. It’s a bit player in the data integration market, which was dominated by the defendants Express Management Services and Home Hacks.”

  Anne smiled, nodding. “You get an A plus.”

  “Thank you.” Mary smiled back. “Home Hacks is a data application provider, in other words, it takes data from the furniture retailer or wholesaler, organizes it, and stores it with Express Management Services. Together they formed the Goliaths in the integration data market. Right, Anne?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But essentially, Home Hacks is a middleman in the market and they gouge their customers for subscriptions for the service. If you remember, London Technologies’ software would eliminate them, destroying their business, which we know they weren’t happy about.”

  Roger cocked his head. “How do we know that? Other than common sense?”

  “We know that because the president of Home Hacks threatened Alex Chen, the marketing director for London Technologies, at a trade association meeting. He told Chen that he would put them out of business. I defended the deposition, and Alex is rock-solid on his testimony.”

  “Okay.” Roger made a note.

  “Alex Chen also testified that Home Hacks took measures against London Technologies to stop them, like the exclusive dealing contracts and so forth, which are anticompetitive business practices unlawful under the Sherman Act. So we know that Home Hacks was attempting to retaliate for being put out of business. In other words, it had it out for London Technologies. That’s why we filed suit on their behalf.”

  Roger kept taking notes.

  “At the luncheon, we learned that Nick Machiavelli owns a company named Florence Financial, which is part of a consortium that owns Home Hacks. So we came back and did our research.” Mary gestured at an array of documents on the conference table, which they had found online and printed so they could study them. “We did as much digging as we could to learn the company’s value and management. We also wanted to know who are the other owners of Home Hacks, in other words, who makes up the consortium. It wasn’t easy to find because Home Hacks is a privately held company and they play close to the vest. Business articles place their valuation at approximately $16 million.”

  “So it’s lucrative.” Roger’s eyebrows lifted.

  “Very. There appear to be only two other investors in the consortium, both corporations. One is called the Roma Holdings, LLC, and the other is called The Milano Group.”

  “They’re all Italian cities.”

  “Yes, now, you get an A plus,” Mary said, trying to play nice with him, since she couldn’t fire him. “We know that Machiavelli owns Florence Financial, and I’m assuming that he owns the other two companies.”

  “Is his name on the other corporate registrations?”

  “No, they’re owned by two other corporations, and we didn’t recognize the name of the corporate agents who signed the forms.”

  Bennie interjected, “They’re probably shell companies, owned by other shell companies. We’ll task Lou with that, ASAP. But right now, we have the only connection we need, which is with Home Hacks.”

  Roger frowned slightly. “So why does Machiavelli use Italian city names, if he’s trying to play it close to the vest, as you say? It’s not hard to see that pattern. And why own Home Hacks outright, through one company, and use shell companies for the other two companies?”

  Bennie sipped her coffee. “We don’t have all the answers. Maybe when they were incorporated matters or maybe for tax purposes, or tax shenanigans, but we don’t need to know that now.”

  “I think I know how to find out, and I will.” Mary didn’t elaborate, since Roger wouldn’t think that Joey One Eye was as reliable as Dun & Bradstreet. Though Joey One Eye was probably more so. “And of course, the gravamen of the London Technologies Complaint was that both EXMS and Home Hacks conspired to maintain a monopoly on the market together and they jointly required dealerships to deal with them exclusively. The point is, the conduct of the two defendants was so coordinated in the market that we strongly suspect that both entities are owned by Machiavelli—not just Home Hacks, but EXMS.”

  Rogers eyes flared. “Really.”

  “Yes, we researched the corporate registration of EXMS, but that’s a privately held company too, owned by another entity, or shell company. It will take more sophisticated digging to pierce those corporate veils, but we’re working on that assumption for now.”

  Isaac frowned in confusion. “But Mary, what does this have to do with anything? I don’t know why any of it matters.”

  “Okay.” Mary straightened. “What we think happened is that about six months ago, we filed suit on behalf of London Technologies and the Complaint was drafted by John. John was an antitrust expert and he regarded himself that way. He let it be known generally. The clients liked Anne, but she had to fight the notion in the beginning that he was the brains in the case.”

  Anne reddened. “True. Not to speak ill of John, because I never would. But he was definitely regarded as the MVP on the team. He was right, what he said. I was the pretty one, he was the smart one. He took the lead, and in the beginning, I let him.”

  Mary could hear the guilt in Anne’s voice. “In any event, John drafted the initial discovery and signed and sent it himself, without Anne or Bennie’s signature. The defendants would have seen John as the prime mover in the litigation.”

  Judy cleared her throat. “He drafted a beautifully written Complaint and he would be seen as a serious legal threat by any defendant.”

  “Like Machiavelli,” Mary supplied, finishing her best friend’s thought.

  Roger nodded. “I’m catching on. So Machiavelli owns Home Hacks, which is under threat by John Foxman. Is that your point, Mary?”

  “Yes, bluntly put.” Mary felt her chest tighten, at the depravity of the scheme. “Machiavelli sees his company Home Hacks as being threatened by our client London Technologies, which is represented by MVP John Foxman. So what Machiavelli does is contact three kids that he probably put through law school—Michael Battle, Graham Madden, and Steve McManus. You recognize those names, of course.”

  “The plaintiffs in the reverse-discrimination lawsuit.”

  “Yes, and we have learned that they have worked for other businesses that Machiavelli owns around the country, before they went to law school. We posit that he puts them through law school, calls in a favor, and they apply with us and are rejected. The only one who gets an interview is Steve McManus, and he’s personable enough to get John Foxman talking. In other words, Machiavelli targets John and sends in McManus, who gets John to say that he feels out of place here, discriminated against because he’s a man.”

  Roger lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt her.

  “As we all know, John’s statements form the crux of the Complaint against us before the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission. Machiavelli knows that as soon as the Complaint becomes public, John will be compromised and will either be fired or
will quit. Either way, he will be off the London Technologies case, leaving it in the lurch at the worst possible time and us struggling to staff it. Which is exactly what happened.” Mary inhaled slowly, letting the words sink in, and their import. Roger looked grave, as did everyone around the table, and Judy looked heartbroken. “Bottom line, the reverse-discrimination lawsuit was manufactured by Machiavelli in order to eliminate John on London Technologies. And thereby save Home Hacks.”

  “But can’t London Technologies hire another lawyer?”

  “It’s doubtful, and they might have to abandon the suit. They couldn’t get representation before because Express Management Services and Home Hacks are big enough to spread their legal work around and conflict out the best firms from suing them.”

  Roger frowned. “I abhor the use of litigation that way. It’s gamesmanship, not justice.”

  “I agree,” Mary said, meaning it, though it was the least of Machiavelli’s crimes. “When John didn’t quit initially, Machiavelli tried other things to compromise him and the firm, like writing to the Human Relations Commission and telling them they better step it up. Or calling us murderers on TV and sending protesters to John’s funeral.”

  “But with John gone, why did he need to do that?”

  “Because he wanted us out of the case completely, by that point. He wanted us fired, so he sent the protesters to the funeral, provoking us, knowing that Sanjay and Jim would be there. Any client would have fired us, after that.” Mary braced herself. “What really matters the most is what this all means, and I think I have convinced everybody by now, that it was Machiavelli who killed John himself, or who had John killed.” Mary paused, making sure she didn’t continue speaking until Judy had absorbed the words’ emotional impact. “We’ve seen that Machiavelli has no limits to what he will do to accomplish his ends, and now that we know that his was much greater than getting revenge on us. It was to bring the reverse-discrimination suit, which was a smear to make us look bad, in order to get us fired on the much bigger fish, the antitrust litigation against at least one of his multimillion-dollar companies, if not two multimillion-dollar companies.”

  Bennie turned to Roger, her expression grave. “I’m completely on board with Mary, now. I think Machiavelli is behind John’s murder, not a burglar or Shanahan. To me, this answers the question that was always lurking in the back of my mind, which is, why now? Why would Machiavelli come at us now? The answer has become clear, now that we discovered he’s an owner of Home Hacks, if not EXMS. It’s much stronger motivation than either of those, and in fact, his plan worked like a charm. We’ve been fired by London Technologies, and they are left with no choice, in practical terms, but to abandon the lawsuit against Home Hacks and EXMS, i.e., Machiavelli.”

  Anne shook her head, sadly. “The lawsuit goes away, and now he’ll drive them out of business. His companies will continue to dominate the data integration market, gouging the dealers with no upper limit, now that there is no competition. Machiavelli has a major cash cow and he’ll do anything to protect it. To him, John was a casualty, like collateral damage in a war.”

  Judy cleared her throat, clearly struggling to maintain emotional control. “And we’re going after him. We’re going to bring him to justice, for John.”

  Roger leaned back in the chair, his frown deep. “Well, this is just terrible,” he said, his tone hushed. “This is much more than I ever thought would happen, when I agreed to represent you.”

  “I bet,” Mary said, understanding. “We never thought we were in this situation, but we are, and we have to stand up for John. We’ve come up with a plan, and we need your help.”

  “Absolutely. How can I help?”

  “Our plan begins when you and I go into that interview tomorrow at the Human Relations Commission.”

  Roger frowned slightly. “You want to talk about John’s murder at the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission?”

  “No, it’s just the first stage of the plan. You’ll never guess what we’re going to do.”

  “Yes, I do,” Roger said, resuming his dry tone. “You’ve learned there’s a bad-faith underpinning to the Complaint, so you want to saddle up and go into your interview, guns and documents blazing.” He gestured at the corporate registrations on the table. “You want to prove Machiavelli’s behind these three plaintiffs, rant and rave, pound the desk, and demand that the Commission drops the Complaint and then—”

  “No,” Mary interrupted him. “That’s what you’d think we’d do, but you’re wrong. We have a new plan, as a team. This time, we are the Zen Master.”

  Bennie nodded. “We don’t want Machiavelli to know that we’re onto him. So we came up with an unorthodox strategy, for us.”

  Anne chimed in, “And we think it will bring Machiavelli to justice in the end.”

  Judy smiled, for the first time. “Roger, remember, you can be a warrior, but a humble warrior.”

  Roger smiled back, shifting forward. “Okay, lay it on me, ladies.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Mary had just finished filling Roger in on their plan when Lou appeared in the threshold of the conference room, wearing a grin that she knew meant he had good news. “Lou, what?” she asked, feeling her heart lift. “Do you have anything?”

  “Hi, everybody, Roger, Isaac.” Lou entered the conference room, taking off his jacket and putting it around the back of his chair, then loosening his tie. “Daddy has brought home the bacon, kiddos. What’s that expression? It’s always darkest before the dawn?”

  “Come on, give,” Bennie said, impatient.

  Anne shifted forward in her seat. “Lou, don’t make us wait, not today.”

  “I second that emotion,” Judy said quietly, and Mary heard the sadness in her tone.

  Lou must have too, because his victorious smile faded as he rolled out a chair and sat down, with a characteristic grunt. “I found a camera and I got some video. It’s right on the money. Wait’ll you see.”

  “Get out.” Mary rolled her chair closer to him. “Does it show Machiavelli? We think he killed John, or had him killed.”

  “Oh Jeez, why?” Lou recoiled, his hooded eyes flaring.

  “We found out that he owns the defendant in the London Technologies case and we think he murdered John to get him out of the case.”

  “That’s terrible. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “So what does the film show? Does it show him?”

  “It could, you’ll see for yourself.”

  “Oh my, really?” Judy grimaced. “I don’t know if I want to see it. Okay, maybe I do.”

  Anne asked, “How did you get it, Lou?”

  “And where was the camera?” Bennie leaned over the table, as did Roger and Isaac, while Lou pulled his phone out of his back pocket, and started scrolling, then handed it to Mary in exasperation.

  “Mare, do it for me, will ya? I left my reading glasses in the car. Damn it!”

  “What am I looking for?” Mary took the phone, not surprised to see the icons on the home screen magnified to the max.

  “Go to my email. I got a video clip I sent to myself. You’ll see the angle ain’t great. The only camera I could find, and believe me, I knocked on the door of every bar, restaurant, gallery, and tattoo place in the area.”

  “Hang on.” Mary scrolled to Lou’s email, opened the most recent one, and clicked the video attachment, waiting for it to upload.

  Lou leaned over. “You can’t see much, especially not on the phone. We gotta send this to our guy, the one that does the trial exhibits for us. He prolly can blow it up and give us more detail.”

  “I’m sure he can,” Anne said, leaning over the table.

  Bennie interjected, “Lou, I asked you where the camera was. Where was the camera?”

  “Okay, the angle is on a diagonal across the street from the little street that goes behind the apartments like John’s, where the yards are and the residents park.” Lou motioned with his hands, but that didn’t help explain a
nything. “And the angle is good but it’s, like, very sharp, like acute because the camera was underneath a little roof that had a light above the front door.”

  “The front door of what?” Bennie asked, exasperated.

  “A massage parlor.”

  Bennie recoiled. “Really?”

  Roger smiled. “Did you go in, Lou?”

  “Only to ask about the camera,” Lou answered, mock-huffy. “I’d rather fish.”

  “Okay, gang, showtime.” Mary held the phone up so everybody could see it, and the video began to play.

  They all fell silent as a grainy, black-and-white picture came onto the screen, showing tiny, shadowy silhouettes walking back and forth in front of the backstreet behind John’s apartment. The bottom of the screen read ENTRANCE MAIN and under that was the date and 21:03:00, a military clock changing numbers, in seconds.

  Mary squinted at the video, feeling a bolt of excitement. “So that’s the relevant time period, right? That means three minutes after nine o’clock?”

  “Yes,” Lou answered, pursing his lips.

  Mary stayed glued to the video, and she could see lights on in several of the apartments if only because they were gray rectangles set lengthwise.

  Bennie asked, “Which apartment is John’s?”

  “This one.” Lou pointed at the window in the middle.

  “Let me see if I can enlarge that.” Mary swiped over the middle window on the phone screen, and the view enlarged. The focus worsened, but the outline of a fire escape appeared, its heavy iron elements thin and spidery. “That’s John’s fire escape.”

  “Right.” Lou’s tone turned tense, and everyone fell silent again.

  Mary held her breath, watching the video and realizing that what they were about to see was Machiavelli, or his thug, after having killed John. The very thought made her sick to her stomach, and she glanced at Judy.

  “I’m fine,” Judy said, anticipating Mary’s question.

  Mary watched as in the next moment, a small, shadowy silhouette appeared in John’s office window, backlit by the lights in John’s apartment. “Is that him?”