Uncommon Thief

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Uncommon Thief Page 8

by William Manchee

Chapter 8

  The Solution

  Joel Roberts ran his hands through his long black hair nervously. He had gotten a frantic call from his best friend Charles Bartlett who he’d help get elected to Congress. There was money missing, a lot of money. Joel hadn’t stolen the money, so he’d immediately launched an investigation to find out who did it and the Congressman wasn’t going to like what he’d discovered.

  They had been team mates in high school and roommates in college. But when Bartlett came home to Ventura, Roberts went on to law school. When Roberts graduated and had passed the bar, he came back home and hung up his shingle. Bartlett, of course, was his first client and referred him a lot of business. In fact, Roberts got so much referral business from the Congressman he scarcely had the time for other clients.

  Henry Sinclair was another fellow high school football star and the mutual friend of Bartlett and Roberts. Sinclair had been Roberts’ roommate at Stanford where Roberts got his law degree and Sinclair got his MBA. With school behind them they all settled down in Ventura County and remained good friends. In fact, they usually played golf together at least twice a month.

  When the Congressman arrived he was immediately shown into Roberts’ office. Henry Sinclair was already there sitting on a brown leather love seat with papers scattered around next to him. Roberts stood up and forced a smile.

  “Chuck. Thanks for coming by. I thought it would be better to have this meeting here rather than at your office.”

  “Okay,” the Congressman spat. “I’m here. Now tell me you have found the missing money.”

  Roberts took a deep breath. “I wish I could, but after doing an audit of our funds, the money is definitely missing.”

  “Did you take it?” the Congressman asked accusingly.

  “No! No. Of course not. I would never do something like that. You know me.”

  “I thought I did. I thought I could trust you.”

  “No. I’m not a money guy. I delegated campaign finance to Henry. You know that.”

  Bartlett turned his gaze to Sinclair expectantly.

  “Don’t look at me that way,” Sinclair said. “I didn’t steal the money either. It was a bank officer at one of our branches who did it.”

  “Oh, my God! How could you let that happen?” the Congressman said irritably. “Don’t you watch your employees?”

  “We do, of course, but he was very clever in the way he embezzled the money.”

  “Spare me the excuses. Will the bank make good on the loss? They have insurance, don’t they?”

  “Sure, but if the press gets wind of this there will be a scandal. You’ll lose your seat in Congress, Joel’s law career will crater and I will lose my job with Bank USA.”

  “Aren’t you over reacting a bit?” the Congressman said, “Why would I lose my seat? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You’re the candidate,” Sinclair reminded him. You’re ultimately responsible for the campaign contributions. If you can’t even manage your own staff, how can you be an effective Congressman. That will the argument.”

  The Congressman frowned then took up the offensive. “Then what are you going to do to make this right without it costing me my seat in Congress.”

  “Yes, well that will be tricky,” Sinclair admitted.

  “But, Henry’s got some ideas,” Roberts added.

  “Exactly how much was stolen?” the Congressman asked.

  “4.8 million and some change.”

  “Jesus! How did he spend that much money?” the Congressman asked.

  “A divorce with the usual legal fees, alimony, child support, college expenses and prostitutes.”

  “Okay, but that couldn’t have cost $4.8 million.”

  “No, it was his drinking and gambling that I think really got him in serious financial trouble.”

  “So, should I call the FBI and let them sort this out?”

  “As your attorney,” Roberts replied “that’s what I would advise, but as a friend and someone who knows how much being in Congress means to you, I would say you might want to wait a while and let us see if we can find another $4.8 million to replace what was stolen.”

  “Where could you raise that kind of money? Is one of you a magician now?”

  “No,” Sinclair said, “but I think there is a way the embezzler can raise the money. It’s risky for him, but if it works it will keep him out of jail and make the campaign fund whole again.”

  “What’s this asshole’s name?” The Congressman asked.

  “It’s best I keep that to myself. The less you two know the better.”

  The Congressman shook his head. “So, tell me how this magic trick is going to work?”

  “Well, like I said, you don’t want to know,” Roberts replied. “In fact, we never had this meeting.”

  “Right, but what do I tell Tom? He was all ready to go to the FBI.”

  “Don’t worry about Tom,” Roberts replied. “He’s a client and a friend of mine. I’ll deal with him.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave you two to your magic then,” the Congressman said warily. “See you on Saturday at the club?”

  “Yeah,” Roberts replied. “Business as usual.”

  The Congressman left the meeting feeling much relief. He trusted his two best friends and had confidence in them. Even so he was curious as to what they had up their sleeve. He almost wished they would have told him, but he knew Joel was right about keeping him in the dark. He didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize his seat in Congress.

 

 

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