“About nine o’clock or so.”
“After business hours?”
“Yes.” Jake tried not to look at the clock and to keep his focus on Detective Zwerling, in a natural way.
“Is that typical for you to call a client, a prospective client, outside of business hours?”
“Sure, especially if I want his business.” Jake wasn’t lying. “I’m self-employed, so I work all the time.”
“But he turned you down, so why did you call him?”
“To follow up, to make sure.”
“What did he say?”
“That he was thinking it over.”
“I see.” Detective Zwerling made another note. “So then why were you calling him at home, this morning?”
Oops. “I’m persistent.”
“Did he tell you how much money he had?”
“No.”
“But you still tried to sign him, as you say?”
“Yes.”
“You tried that hard to sign him, but you didn’t even know how much money he had?”
“Yes.” Jake could see he wasn’t buying it.
“You must really have wanted his business.” Detective Zwerling frowned so deeply, three lines creased his brow.
“I really want everybody’s business.” Jake could see he had to convince him. “To be frank, five years ago, I lost my job. It turned out okay, I founded Gardenia, but I never want to go back there again. It’s a mentality.”
Detective Zwerling blinked. “How typical is it that a client doesn’t tell you how much money he has?”
“Very typical.”
“How so?”
“Clients like him, who aren’t referred to us by an accountant, estates lawyer, or a banker, aren’t well-versed in what we do. Like Detective Woo.” Jake gestured casually at the younger man. “Not everybody in that situation wants to disclose their assets. They’re concerned about confidentiality. They don’t understand, or really trust, that all of their financial information is confidential. We’re very careful about that here.”
Detective Zwerling made another note, then looked up at Jake, cocking his head. “Did Mr. Voloshin tell you where he worked as a freelancer?”
“No.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“No.”
“Did he tell you his salary or anything about his finances?”
“No.”
“Again, you didn’t ask?”