Silence. That man, Patricia said slowly, has been trying to acquire this building for 2 years. Mrs. Bennett has turned him down three times. Marcus stood very still.
Say that again. Thomas Whitmore's development company has made three formal offers on this property. The last one was 14 months ago. Mrs. Bennett declined all three.
Patricia's voice was careful precise. He and Mrs. Bennett used to be, I don't know what the right word is, in each other's orbit socially, mutually beneficial, but the relationship has been strained. Marcus thought about Friday night at the restaurant. Thomas Whitmore at the corner table.
The arrangement he'd helped dismantle. The man who'd sat there while his son's arranged marriage fell apart and who'd left the restaurant with the flat controlled expression of someone absorbing an unexpected loss. He had not lost just Andrew's arrangement. He might have been here tonight for another reason entirely. Patricia Marcus said, "I need you to pull whatever you have on those three offers, and I need to know if anyone in this building has had contact with Whitmore's people in the last month. " Marcus, she hesitated.
That's above our level. That goes to Mrs. Bennett directly. I know, he said. I'll call her, but I need the documentation first, so I'm not calling with nothing but a bad feeling.
Patricia was quiet for a moment. Give me an hour, she said. He called Viven at 9:45. Her assistant put him through in under a minute, which told him something about how Vivien had set up the access protocols for his role. Mr.
Agreed. She said Mrs. Bennett. He kept his voice low and direct. Thomas Whitmore was in the building this morning before 9.
No meeting scheduled, no notification. He was in the east stairwell with an individual I didn't recognize. I asked him to go through proper channels for future visits and he agreed. A pause. Was anyone else present?
No. Did they access any part of the building you know of beyond the stairwell? I don't know yet. I have Patricia pulling service and access records. Good.
Her voice was steady, but underneath it just barely, just the bottom layer was something that wasn't quite anger. Something colder. I need those records today. You'll have them, Marcus said. And Marcus, a pause.