“You’re thinking that Ian was never the intended patsy but the intended victim all along.” Andy said.
“Not exactly.” Ian scooted forward on the chair. “Using your puzzle metaphor, you keep looking at the shape of the pieces to see how they might drop in, instead of actually piecing them together. You’ve laid aside the one piece that makes all of this fit.”
“Okay, I guess I am thinking like a cop.” Barrow frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s a piece we haven’t discussed, and it’s the one that really ties everything together.”
Kellen smiled. He looked at Ian. “Darla Hutton?”
“Bingo.” Ian turned to the two still confused men. “Here’s how it fits together. It doesn’t give us all the answers but it makes everything, I mean everything from my little song and dance number to this moment make sense.”
“Let me start it and see if we’re on the same page.” Kellen said, suddenly full of energy. “Whoever this person is…”
“And you know I’m not convinced it’s not a woman, but that’s an episode for later.” Ian said.
“Episode?” Andy said.
“You guys think like cops.” Ian smiled. “I think like a television executive.”
“Mini series later, Ian.” Kellen snarked. Ian motioned for him to continue. “This is a small time con artist, investing himself in a company quietly long enough to gather a couple of people to help him bilk to company out of money. He stays in the background and lets them do the dirty work. Yancy, am I right so far?”
“On the money, so to speak.” He said. “And when the unwitting accomplices start to panic he kills them dumps the body and disappears, only reappear somewhere and repeat the process.”
“So he ends up at HRT, a nice step up for him. Lots of money, executives running around stabbing each other in the back, he barely has to hide what he’s doing.” Kellen smiled. “This one is probably the easiest mark he’s hit. Then along comes Ian. New kid in town, a sucker from the boonies, the perfect pigeon for his shell game.”
“Got the second act yet?” Ian asked Kellen. When he hesitated Ian took over. “While he’s there, figuring out how to cage the pigeon he stumbles upon a bigger scam.”
“A bigger scam?” Andy said.
Kellen’s grin grew wide. “Darla Hutton…”
Ian nodded, “Darla Hutton.”
“I’m still not seeing how this all fits together.” Barrow ran his hands through his hair.
“Obviously you are neither a Hollywood legend fanatic nor a homosexual, Mr. Barrow.” Ian almost laughed. “Darla Hutton, the “H” in HRT. Most people, obviously you not included, are aware that she disappeared with James Redfield…”
“The “R” in HRT.” Kellen added.
Andy sat back. “Oh yeah, the legend goes both were married to other people but fell in love, ran off together changing their names and living happily ever after.”
“The truth to the legend is no one really knows the truth. David Turner…” Ian looked at Barrow.
“I take it that’s the “T” in HRT?” He sighed.
“You catch on quick.” Ian smiled. “Mr. Turner himself doesn’t know where they are, or if in fact they did run off together. There is one small portion of the legend that is true, but only the direst of Old Hollywood fans would know…”
“Or possibly an employee of HRT.” Kellen added.
Andy’s eyes glistened. “You mean there actually was a baby?”
Ian nodded his head. “Darla Hutton was pregnant with David Turner’s child when she disappeared.”
Dots finally connected for Yancy Barrow. “So you think the con man switched cons in the middle of the game, thinking he could claim to be the son of this Darla Hutton?”
“I think that’s a very real possibility. It makes sense. It also ties me in and helps us narrow down who we’re looking for.” Ian sat back pleased with himself.
“I don’t see how this ties you into the scam more solidly.” Andy said.
“Simple, as soon as I arrived at HRT my history, a poor orphan from the sticks whose mother dies when he was an infant and never knew his father spread like wildfire.” Ian looked around the room realizing as he said it out loud exactly how much sense it made. “I realize that my math skills amount to having to take my shoes off to count to eleven, but I’m probably around the right age to claim to be an heir. I became a target not because I was dumb enough to let myself get targeted, but because he or she thought I was smart enough to try and pull the same scam.”
“And the fact that David Turner attached himself to you so quickly, made many nervous at the network.” Kellen capped it off.
“Exactly.”
“It makes perfect sense.” Yancy nodded. “I have been thinking that this man has cleared out. I was going to start taking a look any one connected with the network that might have left within the last week or two or recently turned in their notice.”
“I’m willing to bet whoever is still there.” Ian said. “If they had just had Balouche admit to everything, I would agree with you, but the fact that he absolved me and tied it all up to make it all over makes me positive they are still at HRT, but have hatched another, better scheme to claim the throne.”
“I have one question about this theory.” Mitchell put up his hand like he was in school. “This guy usually grabs the money and runs, what makes you think we wants to stay around and take over a television network. Wouldn’t that run the risk of his scam being uncovered?”
Kellen frowned a bit. “He’s right Ian.”
“Thinking like cops again, or at least ones that don’t know the whole story.” Ian knew he was right.
“Isabella was right as always.” Barrow mused. “Tell us the rest of the story.”
“Neither Redfield or Hutton have legally been declared dead. Turner holds their proxies and controls an over whelming majority of the stock because of it.”
“Still means this man has to stick around running the risk of being exposed.”
“Nope.” Ian shook his head. “They only have to hand around long enough to forge enough documents proving they are the heir apparent, and then they get a minimum of one third of the pie.” Before anyone could say anything else. “David Turner has continued to split the profits up even three ways and deposit them in bank accounts in the names of James Redfield and Darla Hutton until they or an heir is found.”
Yancy Barrow sat back in his chair. “Prove you’re an heir, get a check for how many years of profits?”
“Forty nine to fifty plus interest.”
Yancy Barrow whistled. “Fake a birth certificate, hang around long enough to prove it, cash a check, disappear and retire.”
“So I guess the next question is,” Kellen said out loud. “How do we beat this person at their own game?”
“Well usually I would say not to do the same thing and expect a different outcome.” Ian sighed. “But this time, we’ve got at least four people who know what we’re looking for and not just one accidentally stumbling across it.”
“And that means…?” Kellen said.
Ian looked at Yancy Barrow. “Mr. Barrow, a wonderful young woman on my team is sadly no longer available.”
“Are you offering me a position, Mr. Justyn?” He smiled.
“You’ve proven yourself to be very slow on the uptake.” Ian told the room. “Your going to need to prove yourself or it will send up flares to everyone, but yes. You start Monday.”
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