“Why don’t you tell me what you want?” Agrippa asked.
“The notebook.”
“Which notebook?”
“Don’t insult me. You were always smarter than Malcolm gave you credit for.”
“Then you know I’m not going to hand over something I don’t have.”
“Perhaps. But you have documents, and Natalie has copies of the original figures. That’s almost as dangerous.”
Daniel paused.
“You have no idea how much damage those records could cause.”
“Then explain it.”
“The financial discrepancies were only one part of the arrangement. Malcolm had agreements with sponsors, investors, and several people who wanted certain fighters to win particular matches. Your final fight was supposed to end differently.”
Agrippa felt an old memory rise to the surface.
The dressing room. The pain in his knee. Malcolm standing beside the medical examiner, insisting that everything had been cleared. The sudden confusion in the final round, when Agrippa realized that the opponent had anticipated a combination he had never used publicly.
“What are you saying?” Agrippa asked.
“I’m saying your championship was worth more to people than the prize money.”
“Did you fix the fight?”
“I arranged the money.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Daniel did not answer.
Agrippa felt a familiar anger moving through him, but he forced it down. Anger could make a person fast. It could also make him stupid.
“What happened after I won?”
“Malcolm panicked. Your victory destroyed an arrangement that had already been funded. The investors wanted their money back. Malcolm needed someone to blame, and you were the easiest target because you had no access to the accounts.”
“Who was supposed to win?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Then open the door.”
Agrippa glanced at Natalie.
She was already moving toward the window.
He stepped back and allowed her to climb onto the table. It took several seconds to force the frame open wide enough for her to pass through. Outside, the delivery driver had vanished. The alley was empty.
Natalie lowered herself onto a narrow ledge and dropped to the ground.
Agrippa followed, landing heavily on the pavement.
They moved toward the street.
A car engine started behind them.
“Keep walking,” Agrippa said.
A dark SUV emerged from the far end of the alley and accelerated toward them.
Agrippa grabbed Natalie’s arm and pulled her behind a stack of wooden pallets. The SUV swerved, clipped a rubbish bin, and stopped hard enough to make the tires squeal.
Two men jumped out.
One headed toward the street. The other ran straight for the pallets.
Agrippa waited until the man was close enough to reach him, then stepped into his path and drove a shoulder into his chest. The man stumbled backward, struck the side of the SUV, and dropped to one knee.
The second man came around the vehicle.
Agrippa raised one hand.
“Think carefully.”
The man looked at his companion, who was struggling to stand. He then looked at Agrippa’s broad shoulders and the controlled way he held his ground.
He hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Agrippa seized Natalie’s hand and ran toward the street. A taxi was slowing near the corner, and he waved it down. They climbed inside just as Daniel appeared at the alley entrance.
“Drive!” Agrippa shouted.
The taxi pulled away.
Natalie looked back through the rear window until the SUV disappeared.
“They’ll keep coming,” she whispered.
“Maybe.”
“You don’t understand. Daniel doesn’t threaten people unless he has permission from Malcolm. If he sent those men, Malcolm knows exactly where we are.”
Agrippa took out his phone and called Victor.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Are you all right?”
“For now. Get the documents we copied last night and take them to the lawyer. Tell him we have evidence of financial fraud, but don’t give him the originals yet.”
“What happened?”
“Daniel Voss is alive, and he wants the notebook.”
Victor swore under his breath.
“Where are you?”
“On the move.”
“I’m coming to you.”
“No. Stay away from the address we planned to meet at. Assume they know it.”
Victor went silent.
Then he said, “There’s something I should have told you.”
Agrippa closed his eyes briefly.
“Tell me.”
“Before your final fight, I saw Malcolm arguing with a man outside the medical office. I didn’t know his name at the time. But when you described Daniel just now, I remembered him.”
“What did you hear?”
“Malcolm said, ‘If Fisher wins, we lose everything.’ The other man replied, ‘Then make sure he doesn’t know what he’s fighting for.’”
Agrippa looked out at the passing buildings.
For years, he had believed his final fight had been a simple story of an injured champion who had stayed too long in the ring. Now it appeared that someone had tried to turn his career into a financial instrument, and his victory had threatened a much larger plan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.