The Fugitive's Trail

by J. C. Fields

  ***

  Kruger was waiting in the interview room when a guard opened the door and Plymel entered, followed by a heavyset man in his sixties. Plymel was still in his orange jumpsuit furnished by the great state of New York, and the heavyset man wore an expensive suit.

  As the guard shut the door, the heavyset man said, “Mr. Plymel will not be speaking to you today, Agent Kruger, so this will be a short meeting.”

  Kruger nodded. “Who are you?”

  “Felix Benson, Mr. Plymel’s attorney.”

  “Well, Mr. Felix Benson. I’m not here to ask Mr. Plymel any questions. I came merely as a courtesy to inform both of you of new details recently learned in our investigation.”

  “We’re listening.”

  Plymel was sitting with a smug look on his face. Kruger stared at him. “Our investigation has discovered some very disturbing activities involving your client. In fact, I have notified the SEC about these activities.” Plymel’s arrogant demeanor remained. Kruger stared hard at the man and continued, “We have evidence of Mr. Plymel defrauding his investors of millions of dollars. An internal P&G audit discovered the fraud and was reported to Mr. Plymel. The accountant who conducted the audit and sent the memo was terminated. Funds totaling forty-nine-million dollars have been found in offshore accounts owned by shell companies controlled by Mr. Plymel. Effective this morning, the federal government has frozen those assets.”

  Plymel did not disappoint Kruger; the self-righteous look was temporarily replaced with a look of horror, then just as quick, anger. Plymel started to stand. “How dare you…”

  Benson grabbed his arm. “Sit down, Abel, and keep quiet. I’m sure there is a more logical explanation about these assets than theft.”

  Kruger shrugged and stood. He stepped toward the door. “Not according to our evidence, counselor. You’ll get a summary of it in your discovery packet.” He stopped just before exiting the room and turned to Plymel, “As I mentioned the other day, I’m not someone you want looking into your business.” He walked out of the interview room, closed the door, and smiled for the first time since learning about Sharon.

  ***

  Abel Plymel stared at the closed door. The FBI agent’s statement about the money was devastating. First, the hacker had taken sixty million. Now the government had found the rest of his money. How did they find it? The incriminating audit memo had been deleted long ago. He leaned over and supported his head with his hands.

  While his attorney was rattling on about change of venue, illegal searches, and other benign topics, he wasn’t listening. All he could think about was the last few words the agent had said; the government had frozen access to the money. He had to get out of here and find out what was going on. He turned to Benson. “Shut up. Why am I still in this hellhole?”

  Benson’s eyes grew wide, and he looked at Plymel in silence. After a few moments, he said, “If you would listen to me occasionally, you would know, probably this afternoon.”

  “I have to get back to the office and see what kind of damage these meddling police officers have done—”

  “First of all, they are far more than just police officers. They represent the Federal Government. And second of all, you are no longer welcome at your office.”

  “What?” He stared at Benson, his eyes blinking rapidly. “What do you mean, I’m no longer welcome?”

  “Exactly as I said. You are no longer associated with P&G. You have been dismissed and replaced as CEO. They are distancing themselves from you, due to the severity of the charges. As I told you earlier, my firm has never been associated with P&G Global. Your case was referred to us, and at this point I’m not sure how long we will maintain the relationship. For the moment, I’m your attorney. However, I will not tolerate your lack of cooperation or your attitude. Once you are released, I will reevaluate our association and let you know if we will continue to represent you. Good day, Mr. Plymel.” Felix Benson stood, grabbed his briefcase, and left the interview room, leaving the door open. A guard immediately appeared and motioned for him to follow.

  ***

  Benson was good on his word; Abel Plymel was released on bond at four-thirty that afternoon. His attorney was there and accompanied him through the crush of reporters to a waiting car. Questions were screamed at both Plymel and Benson, neither answered. After the car drove away from Manhattan Central Booking, Benson said, “Where do you want us to drop you off?”

  Plymel stared out the passenger window. “My apartment will be fine.”

  Shaking his head, Benson said, “Probably not a good idea. There’s still a team of FBI agents searching it. Plus, the media was told of your release. There’s a swarm of reporters and television cameras camped outside your apartment building waiting for your arrival.”

  Unable to comprehend all of the events of the past few days, he lashed out at Benson. “Just what the hell are you doing to earn your substantial legal fees?”

  “Apparently you have no idea of the legal ramifications against you at the moment. You are accused of fraud, conspiracy to commit murder, and numerous other felonies. If convicted of any of these accusations, you’re looking at a possible life sentence in a federal prison. So far, all you’ve done is whine and tell me I’m incompetent and unworthy of representing you. If you wish to terminate my services, I can find plenty to do that will not require listening to your complaining.” Benson sat in the back seat of the car next to Plymel. His attention focused straight ahead, once he was finished, he turned and stared at Plymel. “Your decision, not mine.”

  “I’m innocent.”

  Benson shrugged. “Immaterial. I could care less if you’re guilty or innocent. My job is to defend you in a court of law. I can’t do that if you refuse to acknowledge the situation. So far you’ve denied the fact there is mounting evidence against you. Plus, you’ve been terminated from P&G Global. Not exactly an image of innocence.”

  Plymel stared out the window on his side of the back seat, and was silent. He had never experienced this level of helplessness. Always being in control was how he managed his life. Now events were occurring too rapidly for him to adjust and overcome. “Take me to the Midtown Carlton; I’ll stay there for a few days.”

  “Very well. I will be by in the morning to discuss your defense. But only if you’ll cooperate.”

  Plymel nodded but remained quiet. He had to talk to Crigler tonight and find out the details of his dismissal. Afterwards, he would start planning his comeback.

  ***

  After being told the president’s suite was unavailable, Plymel presented his American Express Black Card and was immediately shown to the room. He was now accessing the internet on the in-room laptop. It took only five minutes to confirm his forty-nine-million dollars was unavailable. He sat back in the desk chair and tried to think. How could they have found it? He had deleted that information a long time ago. Unless Crigler…

  The phone on the desk rang. He stared at it, momentarily undecided whether to answer or not. Shaking his head, he picked up the receiver. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Plymel, this is the hotel manager Fred Barnes. I hope you found your room comfortable and to your satisfaction. If there is anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant, please let me know?”

  “Yes—yes, everything is fine.” He hesitated, suddenly remembering he didn’t have any clothes or toiletries with him. “Do you have a professional shopper on staff?”

  “Why, yes we do. Can she be of assistance?”

  “Actually she can. Please send her up, I need to give her a list.”

  ***

  After the fourth attempt to reach Crigler by phone, Plymel concluded he was being ignored. If Crigler wasn’t going to take his calls, there was only one way to find out what he needed to know: confront the man face to face.

  The personal shopper had performed admirably. Plymel now had several new suits, shirts, ties, shoes, items of lounge wear, and all the personal items needed to keep him groomed and presentable. The f
ew moments of self-doubt he had experienced earlier in the day were long gone.

  After locating a smaller fund that was still available, he immediately transferred the money to an account he could readily access. With the discovery of the money and a new wardrobe, his self-confidence returned. Dressed in one of his new suits, he dialed a memorized number on the hotel desk phone.

  “Covergirl Escorts, this is Marie. How can I help you?”

  Plymel smiled. “Yes, this is Abel Plymel. Is Darby available tonight?”

  Chapter 24

  Atlanta, GA

  The man waited patiently, watching passengers disembark flight 1172 from Dulles International Airport. He wore black jeans, black Reeboks, a white button-down oxford shirt, and a navy blazer. Except for his size, he would have blended into the background of business travelers and been invisible. His patience was rewarded as the tall black man walked through the gate and paused for a brief moment as he scanned the crowd. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. The black man then walked quickly to the main hallway and turned to his right, hurrying toward his connecting flight.

  The large man in the navy blazer waited a few moments before grabbing the duffel bag at his feet. Without hurrying, he walked in the same direction as the taller man. There was no need to catch up; he knew where the man was going.

  As he approached his destination, he saw the taller man standing in the gate area examining his boarding pass. Major Benedict “Sandy” Knoll walked up to him. “Nice to see you again, colonel.”

  Joseph smiled and turned to his friend. “Good to see you too, Sandy. Let’s dispense with the titles.”

  “Yes sir. Thank you for the invite. I’ve never been to the Ozarks. I hear it’s a beautiful part of the country.”

  “It is, but I’m afraid we have a storm brewing. I need some extra boots on the ground.”

  “My pleasure, sir. All the equipment you requested is checked and will arrive with us.”

  “Good, thank you.”

  “You were a little vague on the phone, sir. How bad is this storm going to be?”

  “With you there, I’m sure its intensity will be lessened.”

  Nodding, Sandy understood it wasn’t appropriate to discuss the matter in public. He remained quiet and waited for their flight to Springfield.

  Just before boarding, Joseph handed Sandy an eight-by-ten envelope. In a low voice, he said, “There’s a driver’s license, credit card, hotel reservation, and a brief summary of our objectives in this envelope. Read it over. When we get to Springfield, we’ll depart separately. You have a SUV with a GPS unit reserved under the name on the ID. Go to your hotel and wait for me to call you.”

  Sandy nodded and remained quiet.

  “Once again, Sandy, I appreciate your help with this matter. The man we are trying to protect will make an excellent addition to our team.”

  Sandy looked at the picture from the envelope. “I remember this guy. It was a long time ago, but I competed against him in several marksmanship tournaments. He kicked my ass every time. I don’t remember his name, but damn, he could shoot.”

  Joseph smiled. “He’s even better with a computer.”

  It was Sandy’s turn to smile. “Well then, I’ll just have to make sure this storm doesn’t do any damage.”

  ***

  JR’s phone chirped at five minutes after five in the afternoon. Quickly noting the caller ID, he accepted the call. “Yeah.”

  Joseph said, “Have you ever thought about just saying hello?”

  “Yes, but I dismissed it as being pedestrian.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Halfway between Topeka and Kansas City. Should be back in town a little after nine tonight. Why?”

  “Can I convince you to stay in KC tonight?”

  “Why?”

  There was a pause before JR heard him say, “We may have a small problem. We believe someone will be arriving in Springfield in the next day or so looking for you. He may already be here; we’re not sure. Another day would give us time to check.”

  “What do you mean us?” Joseph was quiet for a long time. JR said, “Are you still there?”

  “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “Try not to. So who is the us?”

  “I asked an old friend to help out.”

  It was JR’s time to be quiet. For almost eight months, no one knew anything about his past. Now more and more individuals were involved. “One person has already died, Joseph, someone I didn’t even know.” His voice rose in volume, “Now you’re telling me you’re dragging more people into this. How many more, Joseph? How many?”

  “He has certain talents we can use.”

  JR was quiet, he took a deep breath and said, “Give me a better reason to stay in KC.”

  “Kruger believes a very dangerous man knows your location. This individual may be on his way to Springfield. We need time to set up surveillance without you being in the way.”

  “How long do you want me to stay?”

  “One night should do it. Go to a Royals game or something.”

  JR turned to Mia. “Want to get a room in Kansas City tonight?” She had been watching him during the phone call, understanding the direction of the conversation. She stared at him with unblinking eyes, a tight smile, and finally a nod of her head. JR said, “Yes—we’ll stop in Kansas City.”

  “Don’t tell me where you’re staying—that way, I can truthfully say I don’t know where you are. Plausible deniability. Keep you cell phone charged.”

  “Okay. Call me when you know more.”

  “Will do.”

  The call ended and Mia said, “What’s going on, JR? Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know for sure. Joseph was vague at best. He said he needed some time to set up surveillance, whatever that means.” He paused and looked at Mia. She stared at him, her arms crossed and her left hand rubbing her throat.

  He tried to maintain an upbeat attitude. “So, where do you want to stay?” She continued to stare at him. Pausing briefly, he said, “Let’s go to the Plaza—great hotels and lots of good food. We’ll try to get hold of Kruger; he lives somewhere around there. We can ask him what’s going on.”

  She turned toward the front window and stared out at the highway.

  “Try not to worry. Joseph has everything under control.” As he said it, he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

  ***

  Joseph ended the call to JR and immediately called Sandy, who answered on the first ring. “Yes.”

  “Did you find your accommodations satisfactory?”

  “I’m a little disappointed. Only two rooms and I haven’t seen the scantily clad maid yet.”

  Chuckling, Joseph said, “Budget constraints. Let’s meet at my office as soon as you can get here.”

  “How far is it?”

  “About ten minutes, if you use the freeway next to your hotel. The address is in your envelope.”

  “Already in the GPS. See you in ten.”

  Sandy walked through the door of Ozark Computer Security eleven minutes later. “Okay, give me the details.”

  By nine in the evening, Sandy was up to speed and Joseph felt better prepared for any possible visit by Adam Weber. JR’s apartment would be under surveillance by early morning. Also, the security for Joseph’s shop had been upgraded by some of the equipment Sandy had brought from Atlanta. The only item missing was a picture of Weber. A Google search had failed to provide one, so Joseph called Mary. She provided one via email fifteen minutes after his call.

  Once the image was saved to the main server, Joseph said, “I think you’ll be impressed with JR’s facial recognition program. It’s faster than anything the government has.” Just as he said that, one of the monitoring laptop’s pinged. Joseph looked at the message. “Apparently Mr. Weber has found us.” He pointed to the split screen on the laptop. The left side was a live shot of the parking lot in front and slightly east of their location, and the right side was the newly save
d picture of Weber with his name and current bio underneath the image.

  Joseph’s shop was located in a commercial development that was designated as multi-use. The neighboring businesses varied, ranging from dentists and attorneys to restaurants and fitness centers. The complex was long, extending a half-mile from east to west. Joseph’s office was on the western side next to a fitness center and several high-end restaurants, so at this time of night, the parking lot was still busy.

  Weber was standing next to a sedan several spaces from a light pole. The driver-side door was open, and he was holding what looked like an open file tilted toward the light pole. As they watched, Weber would look at the file and then the building. He did this several times before closing it and tossing it back into the vehicle. He surveyed the office complex, looking east and then west. Finally, he lifted a small digital camera to his eye and started taking pictures.

  Sandy walked over to a laptop and typed in several instructions. The surveillance camera that was focused on Weber zoomed in and started recording. “He’s doing recon. Not very subtle about it, is he?”

  Joseph shook his head but remained quiet as he watched the man taking pictures.

  Sandy typed on the laptop keyboard again and said to the screen, “I wonder what you’re planning to do next, Mr. Weber.”

  Finally, after several minutes, Weber got back in the sedan and left the parking space slowly. The camera tracked the car’s movement until it disappeared around the corner of the office complex one hundred yards to the west. Sandy said, “Bet he’s driving around to check out the rear entrance.”

  They were in the workshop located at the rear of the office. On the back wall, a steel door led directly from the room into the service alley. Joseph walked to the wall and flipped off the light switch. He said, “No need to advertise someone’s here.”