“This is a joke to you, isn’t it?”
“No, it isn’t, Sergeant. But you are. I think you should try another line of work.”
“We’re going to search your computers. And look through your personal files.”
Kemp shook his head. “That’s against the law, Sergeant. And you know it.”
Malone laid three sets of paperwork on Kemp’s desk. He intended to find evidence that linked Black Capital Investments and Tucker & Sutton Associates to criminal activity. “What do you think we’re going to find in your computers, e-mails, and office files?”
“I’m not worried about that, Sergeant,” Kemp said, reading the search warrants.
“You’ll be singing a different tune later, after my team has collected all the evidence.”
Kemp gave him a big grin. “Knock yourself out, Sergeant. I just got all new computers.”
“What happened to the old ones?”
“I don’t recall.”
Malone got in his face. He wanted to make sure he got his point across. “Sooner or later, I’m going to arrest you for insider trading, fraud, and murder.”
“Thanks for the tip, Sergeant. Now, get the search over with. So, I can get back to work.”
Two employees poked their heads into the room. A middle-aged man and a younger woman just stood there, as if they were waiting for their boss to say something to them. Kemp shook his head and pointed toward the trading floor. The employees looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and left. Detective Peterson closed the door and locked it. She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms, and glared at Kemp.
“This is a joke,” Kemp said. “I mean, everyone here is in way over their heads.”
“I talked to Mr. Sutton,” Malone said. “He told me about your criminal operation.”
Kemp rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know him.”
“He worked at Tucker & Sutton Associates. Their law office handled the paperwork for mergers and acquisitions. They informed you when small pharmaceutical companies were going to be taken over by larger ones.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sergeant.”
Malone’s heart was racing. He was sick of the guy’s arrogant attitude. “Based on information contained in the merger documents, you took huge positions in drug companies that were going to be acquired by larger corporations.”
“I’m confused, Sergeant. What companies are you’re referring to?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. You know what companies I’m talking about—Straight Arrow Pharmaceuticals, Baker Pharmaceuticals, and Frontline Pharmaceuticals.”
Kemp loomed closer. “I buy blocks of stock all the time, especially in drug companies.”
“When the acquisitions were made public knowledge, those pharmaceutical companies I just mentioned sky rocketed in value. You sold them at the top, raking in a fortune in the process. That’s called insider trading, and it is illegal.”
Kemp looked uncomfortable. “Talk is cheap, Sergeant. You’ve got to prove it.”
Malone was up for the challenge. He looked forward to putting him in his place. “That’s not going to be a problem. I have hard evidence against you.”
“That’s bullshit, Sergeant.” Kemp raked his thick brown hair back with his fingers. Using his right hand, he smoothed the streaks of gray at his temples. “You don’t have squat on me.”
“I have four computer hard drives from Tucker & Sutton Associates.”
Kemp gave him a big grin. “They’re fried. No recoverable data. So, they’re worthless.”
“You think you’re really smart, don’t you?”
“Oh, I have a really high IQ, Sergeant. I’m much more intelligent that you.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, I am, Sergeant.” Kemp’s eyes sparkled. “You’re a bag of hot air, that’s it.”
Malone cracked a smile. He was more than ready to teach him a few things. “I’m going to have those hard drives rebuilt.”
“Tell me another one, Sergeant.” Kemp laughed. “They’re burnt to a crisp.”
“Yes, that’s true. But the platters weren’t destroyed.” Malone was silent for a moment, reflecting on what he’d just learned from the crime lab. Not only did the fire scorch the hard drives, but it also subjected them to water damage from the fire fighters. Dan Henderson, the Crime Scene Unit crew chief, told him that even though all the drive’s serial numbers were too damaged to read, he was able to discern the manufacturer’s name, which was Western Digital. The platters, the magnetized layer on the disks that stored computer data, weren’t warped by the intense heat. This meant that the data on the hard drives was still recoverable, provided the read/write heads, the actuator arms, and the circuit boards were replaced.
Kemp’s eyes bored into him. “What are you talking, Sergeant?”
“Platters are the thin magnetic coating that contains the actual data.”
“Oh.” A nervous look crossed Kemp’s face. “I’m listening.”
“We’ve got our work cut out for us. But it’s still possible to retrieve the data.”
“The odds are against it, though.”
Malone felt good he had the upper hand. He couldn’t wait to rub it in his face. “The four hard drives are in the police evidence room right now.”
“All right, Sergeant.” Kemp voice grew serious. “You’ve got my attention.”
“They’re going to the crime lab, so our team of computer specialists can fix them.”
Kemp looked worried. “I don’t believe you, Sergeant. You’re on a fishing expedition.”
“I don’t bluff, pal.” Malone laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to burn your ass.”
Before Malone and Peterson left the office, they nodded at their team, indicating it was time for them to get to work. The police officers snapped to it, some of them accessing Kemp’s personal computer, others going through his file cabinets. Outside the office, the detectives walked across the trading room, weaving through a maze of people. There was a lot of commotion around them, some people arguing the stock market was recovering, other people insisting it was getting worse. Outside, in the small corridor, they got into the glass elevator and took it to the first floor. They left Black Capital Investments, got into the unmarked police car, and headed back to police headquarters.
Chapter 36
Jones sat at the poker table, playing no-limit Texas Hold “em. Everyone had folded, except for the opponent sitting to the right of him. He was a short man and his broad frame was thickened by an excess amount of fat, particularly around the chest, stomach, and legs. Jones decided to call the man’s bet, adding one thousand dollars to the pot. The dealer stood behind the table, dressed in a black stretch dress with red adjustable straps. She dealt the flop—the King of Diamonds, the King of Spades, the Three of Clubs. Jones pulled his cards back to the edge of the table, slowly bending up the tips, peaking at the Queen of Clubs and the Eight of Clubs. He considered his hand. He only needed two more cards of the same suit to have a flush.
“I’m Charlie Rains,” his opponent said, raising five thousand dollars. “One of the best players you’ll ever meet.”
“Talk is cheap.”
“What’s your name?”
Jones didn’t want to interact with him. He didn’t want anyone to distract him from winning the game. “What does it matter?”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, kid. I want to know whose cash I’m going to take.”
“I’m Tim.” He decided to call, adding five thousand dollars to the pot. “Tim Jones.”
“It looks like you’re in over your head, kid. Like you’re a bundle of raw nerves.”
“Worry about yourself, all right?”
“Have it your way,” Rains said. “But you’re going to regret it.”
The dealer dealt the turn, face up. She placed the Seven of Clubs onto the table, right after the King of Diamonds, the King of Spades, and the Three of Clubs. Jones had
four cards of the same suit now, so he was even closer to having a flush. Every hair on his body stood on end, as if there were a thousand particles of electricity pulsating around him. He was going to win the big jackpot. Swept up in an adrenaline rush, he leaned back in his chair and laughed hard.
“I haven’t felt this good in a long time,” Jones said. “I’m on a winning streak.”
“Time to put up or shut up,” Rains said, raising five thousand dollars.
“I’ll call,” Jones said, excited. He tossed his chips into the pot. “I can’t lose tonight.”
Rains gave him a skeptical look. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard that before?”
“I could care less.”
“This isn’t a game for the faint at heart. There’s no shame in folding.”
Jones was sick of listening to him spout off at the mouth. He decided to give him a piece of his mind. “You’re a real jerk, if you ask me.”
“But at least I’m going to be a rich one.”
“Quit running your mouth. So we can get on with the game, all right?”
“Have it your way, kid. But don’t come crying to me later, after you crash and burn.”
The dealer dealt the river, face up. She placed the Four of Clubs onto the table, right after the King of Diamonds, the King of Spades, the Three of Clubs, and the Seven of Clubs. Realizing he had a flush, Jones ran his fingers through his hair and breathed a deep sigh of relief. The tables had turned. He now had a winning hand, all the while luring his opponent into deep water. Anxious to sweeten the pot, it was time for him to go in for the kill.
“Oh, I’m doing great,” Jones said. “Things keep getting better for me.”
Rains’ tone was somber. “This is your last chance, kid. Walk away from the table.”
“Dream on.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”
Jones rubbed his hands together. No matter what the guy said, he couldn’t get under his skin anymore. “I’ve got a great hand. Nothing you have can beat it.”
“I’m here to make money, kid.” Rains gave him a smug smile. “Not to make friends.”
“Prove it to me.”
“Time to crash and burn,” Rains said, going all in. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ll call,” Jones said, adding nineteen thousand dollars to the pot.
Prepared for the showdown, each player turned over their pocket cards. Both players were silent, busy comparing each other’s cards to the five community cards in the middle of the table. Jones felt his stomach tighten into a knot. His opponent had beaten him with four of a kind, all kings. He clenched his hands into tight fists, realizing he had just lost thirty thousand dollars. The dealer pushed the entire pot in front of Rains.
“I can’t believe it.” Jones hung his head. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“It looks like you’re broke,” Rains said. “You’re out of the game for good.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look, at the beginning of the game, I was dealt two kings.”
Jones felt his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t appreciate the guy rubbing it in his face. “I’m not stupid. I realize that.”
“On the flop, the dealer dealt two kings.”
“Do you have a point?”
“You suck at gambling, kid. So, go find another past-time.”
Jones looked over his shoulder, at two businessmen standing next to him. Both stood silent, their arms folded across their chest, staring at him. One of the men pointed to a room at the back of the casino, where Jones had received the thirty thousand dollar loan. Not wanting to return to that room, he shook his head. The other man’s business partner opened his tan blazer, displaying a gun on his left hip, butt facing out.
Jones walked through the crowded cruise ship, one man on his right, the other on his left. The air reeked of cigarettes, cigars, and booze. In front of a long row of slot machines, two women were jumping up and down, both facing each other, holding hands. On top of their slot machine, a red light was flashing, a loud siren going off. People rushed over to them, some of them smiling, others patting them on their shoulders.
“Life isn’t fair,” Jones said. “It’s too bad I can’t catch a break.”
“That’s the way it goes,” the man to his right said. “It’s hard to beat the odds.”
Jones felt like the wind had been knocked out of his sails. “That’s hard for me to believe. Take a look around, will you? People are winning all around us.”
“People are losing, too.”
“But it only takes one big score to be set for life.”
The man to his right cocked an eyebrow. “It only takes one big bet to ruin your life.”
“I’ll get it together. I’ll find a way to turn things around.”
Jones followed them through a door, into a large office. He sat down in a chair, right next to a man, who was bound and gagged. Great, things are going from bad to worse. Sitting in front of them, behind a large desk, was John Locke, the ruthless loan shark. Dressed in a black suit, he was punching data into the computer. Every so often, he would pause and look at the stack of papers in front of him. Finally, he got up, walked around to the front of the desk, and leaned against it. Crossing his big arms, he stared at Jones and shook his head.
“That’s a shame,” Locke said. “You lost the thirty thousand dollars we loaned you.”
Jones looked to his right. “Who is the guy bound and gagged?”
“You better only worry about yourself right now.”
“I’ll make it the money back.” Jones looked back at him. “I promise.”
Locke seemed concerned. “You have bad credit. You can’t even get a loan from a bank.”
Jones knew his back was against the wall. He had to convince him that he wasn’t down for the count. “I’ll find a way to work around it.”
“You’re not going to be able to come up with the money.”
“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Locke laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to have to pay the piper some day.”
“That’s not going to be a problem.”
“Like I said before, it’s not my money. So, you don’t have to convince me.”
“Who’s running the show?”
A man came into the room, carrying a briefcase under his right arm. He was wearing a dark suit with a white button-down shirt, a blue striped tie, and diamond cufflinks. Pulling the door shut behind him, he stopped in front of Jones and gave him a hard look.
“I’m Boris,” he said. “Boris Basov.”
Jones felt his heart drop in his chest. It was unsettling to be dealing with one of the most ruthless criminals in Miami. “I need more time, that’s all. I’ll get your money back, I promise.”
Basov’s voice was stern. “I can’t stand people who don’t pay their debts.”
“I’m not like that. I’m a stand-up guy.”
“You’re thirty grand in the hole. Not to mention the interest that’s accruing on the debt.”
“Please listen to me.” Jones heard the man next to him groaning, as if he was warning him to keep his mouth shut. “I’ve come up with a plan to pay you back.”
Basov set the briefcase down, next to the side of the desk. He opened it, removed a pistol, and a silencer. Screwing the silencer onto the barrel, he kept his eyes narrowed. He held the gun in his right hand, the barrel pointed at the floor. “All right, let’s hear it. But you’d better make it quick, because I have a busy schedule.”
“I need another thirty grand,” Jones said. “You see, I’m going to double it in the casino.”
Basov gave him a disgusted look. “You already gave it your best shot. You crashed and burned. So, I can’t let you do it again.”
“This time it’s going to be different, though. I’ve figured out how to beat the odds.”
“You’re a cop, aren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
/> “So, do you think you’re special, like nothing bad can ever happen to you?”
Jones felt a cold chill run through him. “No, that’s not how I see it.”
“Pay attention to me. I’m going to teach you a valuable lesson.”
Basov stood in front of the man who was bound and gagged. The man closed his eyes, shaking his head, grunting through the thick rag that had been stuffed into his mouth. Basov put the gun barrel to the man’s forehead and pulled the trigger. There was a high-pitched popping sound, followed by the man’s brains being splattered onto the back of the wall. The man pitched forward, falling onto the tiled floor.
“Oh, my God,” Jones said. “Please don’t kill me. I’ll come up with the cash, I promise.”
Basov’s eyes were dark and cold. “No one rips me off and gets away with it.”
Jones squirmed in his seat. He couldn’t think of anything to do, but try to reason with him. “Please, let’s try to work something out.”
“After I kill you, I’ll going to chop you up into little pieces. And feed you to the sharks.”
“I still have about a month to pay back the loan, right?”
Basov looked enraged. “Who cares? You won’t be able to pay it back then, either.”
“Please listen to me. I have a wife and little kid to look after.
“You shouldn’t have taken that loan. Now, you’ve got to pay for your mistakes.”
“There has to be another way around this.” Jones felt sick to his stomach. He wished he wasn’t dealing with someone who’d been brought up on criminal charges of extortion, murder, and money laundering. Every time Basov had been tried in court, he beaten the prosecution’s case, thanks to hiring a team of the best and brightest attorneys money could buy.
“Sometimes, I give people breaks. But it all depends on the circumstances.”
“Please, let this be one of those times.”
“I’ll forgive your debt, but you have to cooperate with me.”
Jones felt a surge of relief. “That’s not a problem. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“There are four hard drives in the police evidence room right now.”
“That’s right.” Jones nodded. “There are from Tucker & Sutton Associates.”
Rebels and Thieves Page 16