Green Kills

by Avi Domoshevizki

  The killer didn’t blink. “I received information that the Israeli objects to the acquisition. I thought that if we continued in the same way, he would eventually block the deal and decided to let him know there’s a lot more at stake here than he knows.”

  “And since when are you the one calling the shots here?” The gun barrel remained directed at his face.

  “You’ve promoted me in the organization because I get results. I have every intention to get them for you this time as well.”

  “The results you’ll get will have the FBI opening an investigation that may endanger many similar deals we’ve made in the past. When will you learn to see the bigger picture and stop thinking with your muscles?”

  The Chinese man remained erect, removed his sunglasses and directed a venomous look toward the diners, before answering, evidently unconcerned, “He won’t complain. He’s got no proof he could take to the police.”

  “My lawyers—” the boss tipped his chin toward Smith and Jones, who were sitting beside him “—tell me that your move puts the entire deal at risk. They’re asking me to restrain you. What do you I suggest I do?”

  The Asian turned his head slowly toward the two lawyers, who shrank in their chairs. He turned his face back to the boss and smiled. “Then why don’t you ask them why they called me to complain about the Israeli? What did they think? That I’d send him some chocolates to mellow him out?”

  The bullet that was fired passed next to the assassin head. He didn’t move a muscle and continued to smile. He knew the boss was unpredictable and that human lives had no value in his eyes. He’d witnessed that himself on numerous occasions and even more times executed the killing himself. And yet, he was gambling that the boss wouldn’t want to harm such a valuable asset as himself. “I won’t suffer any disrespect. Without respect, our organization loses its ability to operate. If you value your miserable life, see to it that the deal is closed this week without the police or the FBI getting into the picture.” The boss lowered his gun and the Chinese man turned to leave. The boss’ voice stopped him. “What’s going on with that nice girl in Las Vegas? I heard even she’s making problems. Do I understand there’s another loose end you’re unable to tie up?”

  The Asian turned around slowly. “If my memory doesn’t deceive me, you’re the one who instructed me not to kill her so as not to draw any attention to the patients whose operation dates were switched. Right now, she has only forged documents on her. We can kill her. By the time the authorities find out who she is, assuming they even find her body, it will be almost impossible to connect the stories. All you need to do is change your previous instruction.” The assassin turned his eyes to the two lawyers and an icy smile spread on his face. The fact that they’d dared to complain about him would cost them dearly one day in the future, but it was important for him that they realize it right now.

  “Do what you need to do. You’re dismissed. Don’t get us into any more trouble, for your own good,” the boss whispered and took another sip of his wine.

  Even before he reached restaurant door, the Chinese man was already busy trying to remember the name of the Las Vegas hotel where Roselyn D’Angelo was staying.

  Chapter 36

  New York, October 27, 2013, 2:00 PM

  Ronnie spent Saturday and the morning hours of Sunday in restless sleep. The medication eased the pain in his leg but also fogged his mind. The pain returned and woke him up around noon. He stretched his hand toward the pill bottle but stopped midway. He couldn’t afford to sink into a chemical fog again. He clenched his lips, drew his body up and sat with his back against the bed pillows. The effort left him exhausted. He looked around and saw two notes resting on the chest. The first one was in Liah’s handwriting.

  Out to study with a friend. Will be back home late. I’ve got an exam tomorrow and I can’t study with Gadi around. I’m sure he’ll keep you safe. Love, Liah.

  Ronnie reread the note. The rift between Liah and Gadi was getting wider by the day. What could have caused them to dislike one another so much they couldn’t even bear to be in the same room anymore? He picked up the second note and read.

  Liah can’t endure my presence. I’ve decided to leave. Don’t worry, I’m keeping you safe. You need to stop popping pills and start thinking. You’re pretty useless as a zombie. I left some food on the floor next to your bed. Eat!!! I sent Liah a message to let her know I’ve left. I hope she’ll come back soon. Bye.

  At the foot of the bed rested a tray with some pita bread, hummus and chicken kebabs, a bottle of Coke and some salad. Ronnie lifted the tray with effort and discovered the food was still warm. If only I’d woken up a few moments earlier, I could have put an end to their misunderstanding, he thought with frustration. The smell of the chicken kebabs reminded him he hadn’t eaten for more than twenty-four hours. He gorged on the food and ten minutes later put the empty tray back on the floor. I need to get back to myself, he decided through the veil of pain and stretched his hand toward the crutches leaning against the wall behind him. With an aching limp, he reached the bathroom and looked at his miserable image reflected in the mirror. He shaved and put on his tattered “Sussita 12 —The Best Station Wagon Ever” t-shirt he liked to wear on the weekends. Then he collected the ring binder the investment bankers had given him what now seemed like ages ago, and inched his way back to bed.

  Liah, sweetheart, I feel much better. Gadi left me some food. Stay and study for as long as you need. See you soon. He texted the message and began working. He spent the next few hours reading the share purchase agreement the Luxembourg solicitors had presented to TDO. When he was finished, he stacked the papers on the bed, filled with confusion. This is one of the fairest acquisition offers I’ve seen in my life, so why are they rushing me to close the deal within a week? Why can’t I shake the feeling hurting me was part of this persuasion campaign? Was I the only target, or were Henry and David hit as well?

  He glanced at his watch. It was eight o’clock.

  “Yes, Ronnie, how can I help you?” David’s voice was hesitant.

  “I was attacked on my way home from work yesterday. Right now, I’m lying at home with my leg in a cast. Even though I can’t prove it yet, I believe this has something to do with the TDO acquisition offer.”

  David breathed heavily on the other end of the line. “Wh-what do you mean you were attacked?”

  “The details are unimportant at the moment. I wanted to know if you’ve been pressured to take the deal as well.”

  “N-n-no, not really,” came David’s instant yet shocked reply.

  “David, if not for my sake then for yours, be honest with me. Were you under any pressure to sell the company?”

  “Ronnie, let me repeat myself — I wasn’t!!” David suddenly sounded determined. “If I felt someone was pressuring me, I’d turn to the police right away. I suggest that you do the same.”

  “I don’t have any evidence at the moment to tie the two incidents together and no information that might help the police locate the suspect.” He decided to conceal the truth and added, “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get a good look at him.”

  “Then what do you suggest we do?”

  “I’ve read the contract and it seems fair, even excellent in light of our current circumstances. I intend to sit down with the company lawyers tomorrow; if they approve the deal, I’ll sign it. Henry told me he’d already checked with the attorneys representing the fund and they also think the contract is drafted well and fairly.”

  “Henry has already spoken with our lawyers?” A hint of doubt could be heard in David’s voice. “When did he manage to do that?”

  “I have no idea, but that’s what he told me.”

  “What did Henry say when you told him about the attack?”

  “I didn’t. I’m not sure he’s not involved in it.” Ronnie considered telling David about Henry’s gambling habit but decided against it.

  “Henry can get on one’s nerves,” David admitted, “bu
t he’s a straight arrow. I’m willing to personally vouch for him.”

  “Fine, I’ll call him,” Ronnie conceded.

  The call with Henry was very similar. No, he hadn’t been pressured, he said and sounded shocked when he learned Ronnie had been attacked, and insisted he should turn to the police. When they finished speaking, Ronnie was worn-out. The pain, reading the contracts, and the telephone calls had exhausted him. He turned off the lamp next to his bed and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. Someone’s lying, was the last thought that passed through his mind.

  Chapter 37

  New York, October 28, 2013, 7:45 AM

  “Good morning, this is Special Agent Archibald Bukowski speaking.”

  “Good morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ronnie answered in an assured voice, trying to conceal his fear.

  “We started our first meeting on the wrong foot. I’m convinced it would be worth our while to meet again. I believe I have some information that you might find interesting, and my instincts tell me you have a lot to tell me as well. I’d like it if you could drop by my office this morning.”

  “I’d be delighted to meet you, but I’d really appreciate it if you could come to my office this time. I was assaulted yesterday; someone broke my leg. It is reasonable to assume that the attack is somehow related to the subject we discussed.”

  For a few long seconds, only silence could be heard on the other end of the line, then it was broken by a sigh. “OK. I’ll be there around eleven.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Who was that? Your breakfast is ready. Kumar sends his regards. I’m running to my exam. Bye.” Liah threw him a kiss and left without waiting for an answer.

  Ronnie knew that as long as he was on crutches, any New Yorker would beat him to a taxi, so he ordered a town car and gave the driver his office address.

  “What the hell happened?” Evelyn’s eyes widened when she saw Ronnie hopping on his crutches, dressed in a tracksuit and wearing sneakers.

  “Apparently, sports are not always good for you.” Ronnie waved off her concern with a smile. “Is David in the office?”

  “No, David and Henry are not here yet.” Evelyn continued to stare at him with worry-filled eyes.

  “Jim’s coming in to see me today, could you see that he’s let into the office without me having to run and welcome him?” Ronnie tried to calm her down, without much success. “Also, there’s an Archibald Bukowski about to arrive as well, please escort him to my office the moment he shows up.”

  Evelyn rose from her seat and accompanied Ronnie to his office. She waited until he sat down, following his eyes, which narrowed with pain, with a concerned look. “Who’s Bukowski?” she asked. “I’ve never heard his name.”

  Ronnie was quiet for a moment, trying to find a position that would ease the pain in his leg. “An FBI agent,” he answered dryly.

  Evelyn sank into the visitor’s chair. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but do me a favor and stop whatever you’ve gotten yourself involved with right this moment. Now the FBI is involved! Ray, nothing is worth this. What exactly are you trying to prove?”

  Ronnie couldn’t ignore the concern in her voice. “I promise to be careful.” He tried vainly to shake off the subject.

  The concern in Evelyn’s eyes transformed to anger. “Your macho games are not going to end well. Just cut it out.” She got up and stormed out of the room. Ronnie was stunned. He’d never seen Evelyn so emotionally involved. Finally, he shook off his surprise, turned on the computer and connected the portable drive he’d received from the buyers’ representatives. He sent all the material to TDO’s attorneys, asking to receive their expert opinion that same day, as well as all the information they were able to come up with about the acquiring company and the investment bankers who represent it. “I authorize the use of as much manpower as you deem necessary, as long as I get the answers as soon as possible,” he finished the email and signed as company chairman.

  The door opened and Evelyn invited Jim to come in. She stole another glance at Ronnie and left without saying a word.

  “Please excuse me for not standing up to greet you” — Ronnie extended his hand, still seated — “but I broke my leg two days ago and each movement hurts like hell.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Evelyn told me you were injured doing some sporting activity. That’s exactly the reason I try to stay clear of sports — nobody has ever been injured watching TV,” Jim recreated a lame joke. Evelyn came into the room holding a cup of coffee. She left it in front of Jim and left the room. Jim followed her with his eyes, sending Ronnie a questioning gaze.

  “We received an offer for TDO on Friday,” Ronnie began, ignoring Jim’s inquisitive look. “The buyers are represented by a pair of investment bankers. They submitted an offer on behalf of a Luxembourg company that’s acting as a buffer between TDO and the real buyer. They intend to keep running TDO as an independent company for at least two years and then decide about its future. I have to admit that based on our financial situation, as well as the results of the last two trials, I find the offer to be exceptionally good. I wanted to hear your opinion.”

  “What was the price they offered?” asked Jim, maintaining a matter-of-fact expression.

  “Three hundred and fifty million dollars.”

  “Normally, I’d recommend rejecting the offer. I think the company could be worth five times as much, or even more, within a couple of years. On the other hand, we need money in order to survive this year…what do you suggest we do?”

  “I’ll be honest with you: I’m in the minority here. The rest of the investors are interested in selling and not trying to exhaust bank loans or perhaps even raise some money based on a low company valuation. I passed the material to the company lawyers, and I hope we’ll hear from them soon. If I had to gamble, I’d bet the company will have a new owner by next Friday.”

  “That fast?”

  “That was the buyer’s only condition. The offer will expire on Friday. Because it’s the only offer we currently have, I’m focusing on doing some background checks on the buyers and their representatives. If they come up clean, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to sell the company. I intend to recommend the buyers that they appoint you as permanent CEO, if that’s all right with you.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  There was a knock at the door, followed by Bukowski’s gray-haired head leaning in. “May I?”

  “Please.” Ronnie motioned with his hand. “Jim, could you wait outside for me, please? Ask Evelyn to set you up with a free room. Check if the lawyers are already working on the contract and feel free to act as a slave driver. You’ll find a copy of the email I sent them in your email. Thanks.”

  Jim rose from his seat, curiously examined Bukowski, and then slowly left the room. A moment later, Evelyn came in with a cup of coffee, set it down next to the detective and left the room.

  “It’s never a good idea to irritate a secretary.” Archibald sighed and sank into the chair Jim had just vacated.

  “Tell me about it.” Ronnie chuckled in agreement.

  “So, how’d you break your leg?” Bukowski asked conversationally while sipping his coffee.

  Ronnie took a deep breath and began to describe what’d happened, not omitting any of the details.

  “You say you recognized your attacker?” Bukowski cut him off. “Why didn’t you report this to the police?”

  “I can’t identify him. I only know I saw him at the Sheraton Sunnyvale the day after the TDO CEO had been found dead there.”

  “How do you know it was him? Did you manage to notice any distinguishing features?”

  “He looked like many other Asian men, black hair and black eyes. He was around five foot eight or nine.” Ronnie paused for a moment. “But in both instances, the person I saw was wearing a Phi Beta Kappa ring. The odds that we’re talking about two different people are close to zero.”

  The detective too
k another sip, leaving the cup close to his mouth, sunk in thought. “We’ll get back to what you’ve just told me,” he suddenly said. “Before that, I’d like to update you on Ms. D’Angelo. It looks like she did switch the dates of the operations and disappeared right after that. I was even more surprised that I wasn’t able to find any record of her flight to Central America. No one by that name has left the country or even boarded a domestic flight. She seems to have disappeared into thin air. I’ve spoken with her grandmother, a very nice woman. She told me Roselyn’s trip is documented on Facebook, and she’s following it with pleasure, delighted her granddaughter is having such a good time. Something here doesn’t smell right. I hope she’s still alive. This thing’s a challenge for me now. I must find her. The problem is, my superiors instructed me to shut down the investigation because there’s no evidence of criminal actions. I don’t know what you’re doing in the background, and I’m not really sure I want to know, but if and when you find something out, please update me. If you think I can help, please don’t hesitate to ask. No one will be happier than me to reopen the case and bring the guilty parties to justice. And by the way, you can relax. I’ve been convinced for a long time that you’re not guilty.”

  Ronnie thought the agent seemed like a much nicer person when he was smiling. “And the Chinese guy with the ring?”

  “I’ll check in our databases, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Take care of yourself. You’re a civilian. It’s not your job to solve murders.” Bukowski winked at him and left the room without saying goodbye.

  Ronnie’s cell phone vibrated indicating an incoming message. Don’t be stubborn. Nothing could be worth the consequences.

  Ronnie, frustrated that he was unable to determine if the message was a threat or an expression of concern, turned off the screen and asked Evelyn to send Jim back in. While waiting, the same questions kept gnawing at him: Why was the mysterious informer insisting on anonymity? Does he truly have my best interests in mind? Perhaps he’s trying to trick me?