Fool's Run

by Sidney Williams

  I’d heard of catfishing. That was one thing I didn’t feel bad about missing out on.

  “Why’d the boss go to all that trouble?”

  “Gardner probably didn’t trim the hedges the way Mr. Alexeeva liked it. The man’s just that way.”

  “Hell of a way to fire a guy,” I said and offered the gardener a moment of silence. “What’s the place like inside?”

  “All of the places out here are nice. Big, grand, has a couple of sun decks by the water and fairly easy access to the lake. You looking to buy, not a bad choice you got the bucks.”

  This guy could have been a realtor. Maybe he was thinking about future options. He looked back to the old man. This gig wouldn’t last forever.

  “This gentleman’s place is pretty nice also,” he said.

  “It going up for sale soon?”

  He lifted his shoulders. “Hard to say. Docs say his heart’s strong. Head’s the challenge.”

  I looked back in the direction of the Alexeeva estate even though we couldn’t see it from here. “How many people does the place we’re talking about house?”

  “How many people you need to accommodate? I think he lets people stay at the guest house from time to time. Under the roof, assorted family. A few servants. Occasionally there are big, private soirees. Special staff for those, I’ve heard.”

  “I have kids. Is the place all right for kids?”

  “There’d definitely be room. I think I’ve seen kids there, sunning on the docks.”

  That made me a little uneasy but also hopeful.

  Pulling the picture of Dagney at the moment would set off too many alarms. I wasn’t sure who he’d tell, but he’d find someone who’d whisper to someone until it got back to Alexeeva. If I’d wanted someone to get a warrant, I might get close enough if Danilo said he recognized the girl, but a search of the house that failed to produce her would have the same effect we were already worried about, a move by Alexeeva to hide her deeper or ship her off through some pipeline that produced the results everyone was terrified about.

  I talked a while longer and then said a goodbye, leaving Danilo to watch the old man stare and spit. There could be worse ways to await the reaper than sitting in sunshine, but he didn’t know it.

  Chapter 32

  I opened the Google search on my phone like Jael had shown me and tried key words to check old news. I’d noticed something when I’d been reading assiduously in tech and financial journals in preparation for seeking a legitimate job, and it had popped back up in my thoughts.

  It was the sort of move that bubbled up every now and then, but it had made me wonder about some of Alexeeva’s motivations and how I’d been thinking about them.

  The articles I found now in the online journals sounded the same as they had for some time, possibly since 9-11. Things trickled down to cops at my level were half rumor, products of a game of telephone, twisted and embellished.

  My search skills weren’t fine-tuned enough to see if the most recent activities had progressed past discussion because you needed to scan not headlines but deeper records of congressional activity. Too many other things were in the way that summer.

  I dialed Rose.

  “Any truth to the headlines that the government might crack down on shell companies?” I asked.

  “That would be pretty sane. A lot of people are probably twisting their Congressman’s arm to go the other way, but there have been some moves to encourage more disclosure. Wealthy people with a reason not to want it, even if it helped thwart criminals and terrorists, might make some calls.”

  “You think the criminals and the terrorists are sweating?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Enough to be looking for other avenues?”

  “Possibly. Hypothetically. You get all this from the chat with the girl?”

  “Indirectly,” I said. “Alexeeva keeps his eyes on a lot of things, and he likes to fuck with people.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Dahlia’s been kept on the move, but I get the sense from what she told me that he likes to keep an eye on a lot of things. A lot business. Legit and otherwise.”

  “Clever. As you note, Alexeeva seems to be always looking ahead.”

  “And maybe he’s doing that with the viaticals. Thinking ahead. If shell companies go away, other people are going to need ways to maintain anonymity when moving money.”

  “A situation that’s already a Ponzi scheme would be perfect for cash flow,” Rose said.

  “He’s probably got a lot more things like this brewing. This is just the one we’ve caught wind of.”

  “His business is not the shallow racket it might appear. It runs deep. Does that help you?”

  “Gives me some things to think about for the discussion with Hollie King and Ryan Moates. If we know what Alexeeva wants, helps us plan an ask.”

  “Where do you think he’s got the girl?”

  “If she’s not in Dubai, somewhere safe from law enforcement and everywhere else.”

  “Why not just do something more immediately?”

  “Let the wound partially heal then rip open the scar tissue? `Surprise, Mom and Dad. We turned one kid into a street hustler, and we turned the other one out.’”

  “Possibly.”

  “It’s amazing the Holsts are able to hold it together as well as they have. New revelations about the youngest girl would end them, showing them that while they mourned, the girls were being destroyed.”

  “You offered a reprieve from part of that. Plus hope.”

  “Maybe he’d like to seize an opportunity to maximize impact.”

  “I guess we just have to hope he’s that patient and devious.”

  “From one story I just heard, he is, and if I’m thinking the way he and his ilk think at all, she’s the pretty one. That’s not really a plus for her well-being.”

  Chapter 33

  “So, about that meeting.”

  “I’m in a meeting,” Hollie said. “Can I call you back?”

  “Why don’t you tell them you need a bathroom break, or something more delicate if you like?”

  “Give me a few seconds.”

  I sipped my morning smoothie and leaned back in my bistro chair. I was really starting to cultivate the hipster flare, though I wasn’t sure how in the moment it was.

  The strawberry achenes slid across my tongue along with the coolness and flavor, and I let it all rest in the back of my throat for a moment as it melted. I swallowed when Holton returned to the connection.

  “I spoke to Mr. Moates. He’s willing to cooperate in a meeting with Mr. Alexeeva if he can get guarantees of immunity.”

  “We’re not to a point of guarantees,” I said. “That’ll come after we evaluate the worth of the information that comes out of a connection with Alexeeva.”

  “I don’t know that he’s willing….”

  “Is he aware of how much we know? The spreadsheets aside? It’s his hat that needs to be in hand, not ours.”

  “Jesus, this is insane.”

  “Welcome to the world of economic crime. When you step in, it can get complicated.” I made it a little more emphatic. “Tell Mr. Moates we’d like to meet tomorrow afternoon.”

  I didn’t really want to wait that long, but I needed to seem reasonable and not desperate. You had to leave a little play in the line, so to speak.

  Trying too hard might send them to lawyers who’d make phone calls and figure out there was no investigation. I could hear her shuffling about in whatever hallway she’d stepped into, probably fighting to control herself.

  “Okay,” she said. “Three?”

  “Three. Your apartment.”

  She rang off without further complaint or discussion. She probably had knots in her stomach that rivaled mine. Except I’d put hers there. I wasn’t particularly proud of that even if she and Moates were up to their armpits in an act of fraud and misdirection. I was reminded of one of Sandra’s inspirational quotes about wallowing in various
symbolic cesspools. Didn’t make me feel better nor untangle any of my knots.

  I phoned Arch after that to check his availability. I wanted the intimidation factor high for the meeting with Moates. He promised he’d be shaved and in full Fed mode. Then I called Crystal and asked her about her acting skills. She said she could do pencil skirt, hair in a bun and stern expression and be a dominatrix secretary. I asked about a different persona, and she said she could swing that too, later. We discussed appearances and motivation a bit, and I thanked her.

  It seemed I might just have a workable plan. It’d be shaky, but anything short of kidnap and torture of Alexeeva was going to be shaky, and the literature states torture is often ineffective. I’d seen the threat of punches and even occasionally actual punches scare details out of twitchy junkies, but Alexeeva was made of stronger stuff. He’d snicker if I threatened his kneecaps with a chainsaw and count the loss of a limb or his testicles as a cost of doing business.

  Moates might think of himself as a player and a steely dealmaker, but he’d melt and defecate a lot quicker, and we might have a shot at convincing Alexeeva what we wanted was his idea. It’d be a long shot, but occasionally the wind and conditions are just right and help a long shot at least strike somewhere on the target.

  I hoped that was where we were headed.

  So, 3 p.m. the next day rolled around, and I knocked on Hollie’s apartment door with my entourage at my back. We were all crisp and stiff and thankful again for the air conditioning. Arch had used a little too much Brylcreem to tame Kenneth’s hair. He looked like a ’50s ad for the stuff. Also, clean shaven, Kenny’s round face looked a little pale and like a bowling ball, but as long as he managed his expression, he looked intimidating enough, especially with his size.

  Crystal’s severe look took intimidating to new levels, a navy blue suit with a crisp and buttoned jacket, a skirt that stretched past her knees and sharp black heels. She accessorized it with a riding crop for some customers but not today. With her hair in a tight bun and wire-rimmed glasses, she looked like she could do a mean job of cross examination.

  Arch and I maintained the persona’s we’d used before and led the way in when the door opened.

  I’d been braced for a lawyer to be on hand and see through the whole façade, but they hadn’t opted for that yet. Thank God for arrogance and denial. Those had helped me get a lot of confessions signed through the years.

  I had a plan for a show of legal documents and deal making, but that would get complicated and Rose couldn’t be a direct party to any of it. For the moment, if anyone asked, Crystal was an assistant attorney in the U.S. Attorney’s office, someone Moates’ attorney might not expect to know.

  Happily, Moates was hoping that he could talk his way through this. It had worked for Madoff up until his sons ratted him out, and that had been in a much bigger league.

  Only Owen stood by for support, hovering near the counter that divided the small kitchen from the living area wearing slacks and a sports coat that emphasized his broad shoulders. He glared too. Kenny locked on his gaze and stared back, and that took care of that. It established some sort of posturing vapor lock and kept both of them busy.

  Hollie took a seat on the sofa beside Ryan Moates. I’d seen him in photos accompanying the articles I’d reviewed. He was a solid guy, though not as solid as Owen. Dark hair with loose curls that had a sheen to them. They spilled down almost to his collar in the back. He had to pay a good bit for the look at one salon or another. It masked some thinning patches on top. He paid a good bit for the suit, too, a light beige bespoke over a shirt of a pale check that complemented an azure tie.

  He was of a variety of Southern businessman with all of the Crescent City tics. He sat with one arm resting on the back of the sofa. One ankle rested atop his knee. Affected casual, but there was a hard look in his grey eyes. You didn’t play the game he played without a degree of intestinal fortitude.

  “Who’s doing the talking?” he asked.

  We were dispensing with introductions and niceties. He knew enough of who we were.

  A small bistro table sat in a breakfast nook. I took a chair from there, turned it around and sat down straddling it and folding my arms over the back. I could affect casual too.

  “That would be me,” I said. “Overholt.”

  I’d give myself a smoothie as a reward for remembering the name on the card.

  “What’s the over-under?” he asked.

  I let my eyes cock slightly toward Hollie. She’d folded hands to rest atop one thigh of her grey suit, not anxious for eye contact. As I read that, she hadn’t told him about the spreadsheets.

  “You’ve figured out there’s a bigger fish.”

  Owen made a move that rustled the fabric on his jacket a bit. Kenny kept the stare on him and took one step forward. I didn’t cast a glance back, counting on Arch to keep him in check unless he needed not to.

  “And that you’re off the books on this a little bit,” Moates said. It was a statement.

  “Not exactly, but we’re being informal.”

  I turned back just a tic toward Crystal and gave her a go-ahead nod.

  “Mr. Moates, we have evidence showing the flow of payouts….”

  She’d memorized a spiel and the words rolled out in a crisp and efficient monotone that he interrupted by lifting the arm from the back of the sofa.

  “I know what you have me by,” he said. “What do you want?”

  “We want you to have a conversation first and foremost with Valentine Alexeeva. We’re interested, of course, in the source of the channels for the cash he’s likely to be funneling and the potential violations up the food chain.”

  I dropped some words including oligarchs

  “You think he’s been wanting to talk to me to establish a money laundering option?”

  “We think he already has one, and he needs a new outlet. Not to insult you, but given the size of your pie, we don’t think he’s interested in a slice.”

  “I get immunity for arranging the conversation?”

  “I think you know that’s not enough, and you’re not going to be able to go on with business as usual after this is over,” Crystal said.

  I’d shared my perspective on the prosecutors I’d seen in operation, and she’d incorporated that into her disciplinarian persona. I just had to remind her not to make him lick her shoe.

  “The conversation’s going to be about when you see daylight again, and you’ll want us saying complementary things to my boss,” she said.

  Good to leave it up to him to decide

  He didn’t break a sweat, but then he’d known the clock was ticking on his party and the whole lifestyle he cherished. Hopefully, the paranoia he’d internalized was helping with his suspension of disbelief. Sooner or later he’d figure out we weren’t who we said we were, and we’d have to shift over to pure strong-arm intimidation with the leverage of the spreadsheets to keep him cooperative, but in the meantime a little buy-in was helpful.

  “How stupid do you think I am?”

  “How badly do you want to hold onto some assets for when you get out?” Crystal asked.

  I could tell him stories about new construction on pock-marked side streets, but it would be out of character.

  “So, we get Alexeeva in a room and let you listen? Then we talk deal? That’s what you’re selling?”

  “That’s a starting point with him. It gets you to a negotiations table with us.”

  He looked over at Hollie. Trust was no doubt shaky between them now. Owen had been handy but he’d also become a crack in any wall of resolve. She returned what must have been aimed as a reassuring upward curl of her lower lip with a slight flicker in her eyes, but nervousness removed any value in it.

  “So, what do we do here?” Moates asked. “Call him up and ask him to tea?”

  “We want to do it here,” I said. “It’s real, on the books as a rental of yours. It’s an easy enough situation to control. We’ll have Ms. Remnic
k on site.” I gestured to Crystal using a name we’d agreed on. It fit in a world with an agent Overholt.

  “Just a couple of us in the apartment, but we’ll have others close by. Your job at this phase will just be to find out what Alexeeva’s interest is, but don’t commit to anything. In fact, it might be better if you play hard to get. We’ll see where things go from there.”

  “What if this guy’s dangerous?”

  “We’ll be here, and his style’s not to shoot on sight or anything.”

  “What is his style?”

  “You get on his bad side, slow psychological torture.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “You’re on his radar anyway,” I said. “He’s going to keep coming.”

  “How does psychological torture served up with no plea deal sound?” Nice adlib by Crystal, who kept her features grim. I’d see that the Holsts paid her a bonus.

  Moates thought her remark over for a few seconds.

  “You’re really just asking me to hear the man out. A sit down.”

  I nodded.

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  “Why don’t we go ahead and make the call?” I asked.

  He looked over at Holton again. “Do we have the contact information.”

  “I have a number that was left.”

  “Do it.”

  She looked toward me. “On my cell?”

  “That’ll do.”

  “Speaker on.”

  “No, that’ll make him suspicious. We’ll rig earphones. Just get him here.”

  I tried to convey with my intensity that we’d shoot him in the knee if things didn’t go well.