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WALTER JACKSON LOOKED at his tablet like he was a sports reporter about to run through some stats on the Yankees. Trilling and I both leaned forward in anticipation of whatever he was about to tell us.

The big man made the wooden chair creak as he shifted his weight. He waited a few moments, then let out a sigh.

I had to say, “C’mon, Walter, is this for dramatic effect? What’s so important?”

“My mom always says to make sure we have everything straight when trying to explain something. You sound like my daughters, always rushing me.”

“Now, that’s a shocker. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to rush you.” I smiled to let him know I was just joking. “Seriously, what have you found?”

Walter got to the point. “In all the research I’ve done on Richard Deason and now Antonio Deason, I kind of neglected the wife’s background.”

Trilling said, “Didn’t she die, like, six years ago?”

“She did. Richard Deason’s wife, Isabel, died at age forty-seven of complications from cervical cancer at Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami. Antonio went to college there to be close to family.”

I snapped my fingers and said, “It’s about her family, right?”

“And that’s why I like working here. I’m surrounded by smart people. Yes, it’s about the wife’s family. This is what I needed to tell you.”

Sometimes Walter liked to put on a show to earn a little extra praise for his extraordinary efforts. I wasn’t against it. He constantly amazed me with his ability to dig out small details that sometimes made a big difference in a case. This time, as he looked down at his tablet, he said, “She was from a wealthy Panamanian family. I mean superrich. Rockefeller rich.”

“We got it.”

He smiled, showing me he was intentionally annoying me. “Her family name is Vega. Isabel graduated from the University of Panama with a degree in economics. She had three brothers. One took over the family importation business bringing in raw materials used for construction and the government. It’s one of the top companies completely owned by Panamanian nationals.

“Another brother is a surgeon in Panama City. There are a ton of news articles about him. And even though the Google translation is a little rough, it looks like he’s also considered one of the most outstanding surgeons in the country.”

I glanced at Trilling, just as he looked at me. I could tell we were both wondering what this was about.

Then Walter said, “It’s the third brother who might be connected. He was in the military when the US invaded Panama to get rid of Noriega. He fled Panama shortly after that and is known to be a ‘military consultant,’ or mercenary. His name is mentioned in several articles about fighting in various locations around the world.”

I blurted out, “You think he could be the one orchestrating these deaths? Maybe in some way to avenge his brother-in-law or help his nephew?”

Walter shrugged. “I don’t necessarily think he’s a viable suspect. Although I have all of his vitals and as many pictures as I could find of him. But he does run in circles that I suspect might be able to hire someone to do something like this. Maybe an American. Someone who would blend into the fabric of New York.”

Trilling chimed in. “Everyone blends into the fabric of New York.”

Walter nodded, then added, “But what about the fabric of Hollywood Beach, Florida. Or Westchester County? I think it’s an avenue we might want to consider.”

I reached over and nabbed Walter’s tablet from him to scroll through what he had on the new suspect. The brother’s name was Gonzalo Vega. There was a picture of him as a twenty-one-year-old lieutenant in the Panama Defense Forces. There was also a picture of the whole family from a newspaper. His sister, Isabel, was a few years younger than him. It also spoke to the wealth and power of the family. Who gets a family photograph in the main newspaper of their country? The last photo of him was from about four years ago. He would’ve been about fifty then, but he still had the look of an active military member. Lean and fit with short, dark hair.

I handed the tablet to Trilling. He scrolled through the files as well. I was wondering where we went next. Trilling answered when he said, “When do you want to go talk to Antonio Deason?”

I had to like that can-do attitude from my new partner.