White Collar Blackmail: White Collar Crime Financial Suspense Thriller

Home > Fantasy > White Collar Blackmail: White Collar Crime Financial Suspense Thriller > Page 31
White Collar Blackmail: White Collar Crime Financial Suspense Thriller Page 31

by Peter Ralph


  I’ll tell you what happened when you’ve healed. “You were heroic. Do you remember throwing your body at that thug to save me from getting hit?”

  Todd paused, and his eyes glazed over. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” he said self-effacingly. “The last thing I remember is them tearing my thumbnail out. I think I blacked out.”

  “Yes, you did. Don’t you remember them smashing your kneecaps?” she asked and immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” Todd said, a tear trickling down his cheek. “My knees are full of screws and wires. The surgeon said I’ll need extensive physical therapy. How did the bastards do it?”

  “You need to rest,” Vanessa said, kissing him on the forehead. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk when you’re feeling better.”

  Later that afternoon Grinich visited Todd but left not having learned anything.

  Chapter 61

  On Monday morning, Dermott Becker called Brock Borchard on numerous occasions but his calls went straight to voicemail. He then called the warehouse in Chicago, but no one had seen or heard from Borchard. Becker then asked to speak to Dirk Vaughan and was told that he was with Borchard.

  Becker was a cautious man, and his next call was to Jack Elliot to ask if Todd was at the club. He wasn’t. Elliot hadn’t heard from him. Becker told Elliot to go to Todd’s apartment to see if he was there and to find out where the girl was. When Elliot called back, he said that there was no sign of Todd, the girl was not at work and that neither of them were using their cell phones.

  On Tuesday morning, there was still no sign of Borchard or Todd and Vanessa. Becker had driven down to the marina, and his cabin cruiser wasn’t there. He was frustrated and hated uncertainty. What was Borchard still doing on the boat? Had he killed Todd and Vanessa? Late in the afternoon, Elliot called to say that the girl was at her apartment and that her mother was staying with her. Two hours later, he called to say that he’d had the girl followed to Saint Michael’s Mercy Hospital and Todd had been admitted with life-threatening injuries.

  Becker knew what had happened and doubted he would ever see the Serbians again. He was pleased. Borchard had been a loose cannon, and with him out of the way there was nothing to connect Vulture Inc. to the blackmailing of Karen Deacon. Of course, the FBI would know that Vulture was behind the insider trading and the bribery of union officials but with Borchard dead, they would be unable to prove anything. Vulture would lose its access to drugs out of Chicago, but Becker wasn’t worried. They were making more than enough from the legitimate investments of ACME and perhaps it was time to have a break or even cease their illegal activities. The FBI and the SEC would posture and threaten, but as a former lawyer, Becker knew they didn’t have enough evidence to proceed in the courts. He smiled contentedly. He had had a gut feeling about Max Lustig and spent a lifetime being careful not to cross paths with him. His gut had proved to be accurate.

  On Wednesday morning, Becker drove down to the marina. A few minutes later, extremely agitated, he called the local police to report that his cabin cruiser, Sea Folly, had been stolen.

  By Friday, Todd was feeling better and lying on his ribs was no longer painful but his knees still ached. He was surprised when Vanessa turned up to visit with Doug Lechte and Max Lustig. They chatted for a few minutes and then Lechte said, “You’re off the hook. The FBI and the SEC know that your cover is blown. You’re no use to them anymore.”

  “What about the jail time and the appeal? What are they going to do about it?”

  “Well, they can’t let your appeal succeed,” Lechte replied, “because that would create a precedent.”

  “So I’m going back inside?”

  “No.” Lechte laughed. “Unfortunately the conviction will remain but a judge in chambers has commuted your sentence to time served. You won’t serve another day.”

  “That’s a relief,” Todd said, but he looked far from happy. “I’ll never get another decent job as long as I live though.”

  “Todd,” Lustig said, “these two brought me along because I told them that they’re not going to get anywhere near the accounting fees they’ve extracted from me in past years.”

  “Why are you smiling, Doug? I don’t understand. What’s it got to do with me? Vanessa, why are you so happy? Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

  “I won’t need them, Todd, because I’ll have you,” Lustig said. “That is of course if you accept my offer. As soon as you’re well, I want you to become my group financial controller. I’ve been coasting the last few years and with your financial expertise and my charm, we’re going to embark on a foray of takeovers.”

  “And as Max’s empire grows, we’ll get all our accounting fees back and then some. It’s a win, win, win.” Lechte laughed.

  “Oh, I nearly forgot,” Lustig said. “Your salary and benefits will be considerably more than what you would have earned as a partner of Montgomery Hastings & Pierce. There’s one condition though. If I ever catch you gambling, I’ll terminate your employment instantly.”

  “Max, I’m not a gambler. I never have been. I’m obsessed with systems. I just had to test what I thought was an infallible system. If I was a gambler, I would’ve bet on the fights, basketball, baseball and football. I never did, and I never have. That’s something you won’t ever have to worry about.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that,” Lustig said, “we’re going to make a great team. Todd, I’m surprised you’re not happier. Is there something you don’t like about my offer?”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about those guys who grabbed Vanessa and me. I don’t know how we got away, but they were going to kill us. They’re going to try again.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about them.” Lustig smiled grimly. “I think you’ve seen the last of them.”

  “You’re looking tired, Todd,” Lechte said. “We better go. Good luck with the new job.”

  “Before you go, tell me what’s happening with Phillip Cromwell and The Disabled Children’s Fund?”

  “Our professional indemnity insurers settled the civil claim and significantly increased our annual premium. I can tell you, the partners, including Vanessa, were not happy. The FBI haven’t finished their investigation, but the mayor’s been charged and it’s likely that Phillip will be too.”

  “Is he still managing partner, Doug?” Todd asked.

  “Yes, but he’s confined to administrative tasks. He turns sixty next year and the partners have suggested that he retire.”

  “Will you be the new managing partner?” Todd asked, stifling a yawn.

  Lechte laughed. “No, the role holds no interest. Someone will surface. They always do. You’re looking tired, son. We better get going before the nurses kick us out.”

  “I want to have a few minutes with Todd,” Vanessa said. “Thanks, Max. I’ll see you back at the office, Doug.”

  “You’re a lucky man, Todd.” Lustig laughed. “If I was thirty years younger I’d give you a real run for your money.”

  After they left, Vanessa said, “You don’t have to worry, babe,” then explained everything that had happened on the boat.

  “God,” Todd said, “you must have been terrified. Poor thing. I feel for you.”

  “Your friend, Tony Lombardi, is a strange man. He’s cold, cruel and ruthless and yet not without compassion. He was gentle with me, and it was his t-shirt that I was wearing.”

  Todd was about to say something and stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Vanessa asked. “What are you thinking?”

  “Did you tell Max Lustig what you told me?”

  “No, of course not. Lombardi told me to tell no one other than you.”

  Todd smiled. “Max Lustig knows. Why would he tell us not to worry and that we won’t see them again if he didn’t know? Do you think he was behind our rescue?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know we have nothing to worry about. I’m going to find out what type of man you are when you’re not under stress
. It’s going to be fun.”

  Chas Grinich sat opposite Aaron Lord and contemplated what might have been. “Borchard was the weak link, you know. He would’ve brought their dirty empire down had he lived. They killed him. What was Becker like when you interviewed him?”

  “Smug. Sure of himself. Without a worry in the world. They’ve stopped dealing drugs and loan sharking out of Bandits. They’re squeaky clean,” Lord replied.

  “Yeah, he’s smooth all right. What temerity reporting his boat stolen to the local police and his insurers. From the girl’s description, it’s the boat they were on. He undoubtedly lent it to Borchard, and when he failed to return, Becker reported it as stolen to cover his ass.”

  “What do you think happened to it?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s on the bottom of the Atlantic,” Grinich said.

  “Yeah, but if it is, who put it there? The Serbians had a history of violence, so who’d take them on?”

  “Someone more violent,” Grinich said.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “What did you dig up on that crooked L.A. accountant, Ridgeway?” Grinich asked.

  “Nothing,” Lord replied, “he’s supposedly retired and living off his investments. On the surface, the directors of Vulture Inc. are upstanding citizens.”

  “Bastards! They know we know who they are, and they’re lying low. They were behind those murders and the insider trading. If only they hadn’t found out about Todd Hansen. If we’d been able to keep him in there for another six months, we would’ve had enough to nail them all.”

  “It might’ve been a mistake to do the phone switch,” Lord replied. “Something must have gone wrong. Somehow they found out about Todd.”

  “Yeah,” Grinich said, “maybe you’re right. I’m sure he knows what happened to Borchard, and if he doesn’t, the girl does. They’re playing us.”

  “And there’s nothing we can do about it.” Lord sighed.

  Five weeks after the surgery, the surgeon removed the plaster but told Todd it would be another year before he removed the metal pins and wire. Physical therapy started immediately to rebuild his wasted muscles, but it would be another two weeks before he attempted to walk again. His face and ribs had healed, and his thumbnail had started to grow, but he was in constant pain with his knees. Doctors were gradually weaning him off painkillers but the pain, particularly in the early hours of the morning, was unbearable. It was outside visiting hours, and he was watching television when he looked up. Tony Lombardi was standing at the door. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.” He smiled.

  “Come in,” Todd said, pointing to the chair next to his bed. “I owe you my life. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

  “I told you before that you have some very powerful friends. I was just their instrument.”

  “I know what you are,” Todd said, looking into the professional killer’s eyes, “but Vanessa told me how gentle and kind you were. What you did terrified her, but she said you’re not all bad.”

  “I hope you told her not to circulate that opinion.” Lombardi grinned. “I’d hate it rumored that I was getting soft.”

  “We don’t talk to anyone about you, and Vanessa will never breathe a word about what she saw on the boat.”

  “Relax. I was joking. I know you’ll never say anything, but I do have a message for you. Mr. Arturo said that he’s looking forward to resuming the chess challenge as soon as you’re mobile.”

  Todd frowned and rested his chin in his hand.

  “Todd, I know you don’t want to mix with us gangsters but without Mr. Arturo you’d be on the ocean floor right now. He won’t do anything if you don’t show up, and he won’t show any disappointment, but if you don’t visit him, you’ll be making a big mistake.”

  “Thanks, Tony. Let him know I’ll be there as soon as I can walk.”

  “I wish someone had taught me how to play chess when I was young,” Lombardi said. “You don’t know how powerful you are. You have more clout than your new boss, and he’s very influential.”

  “Did Max Lustig have a hand in saving us?”

  “You ask too many questions,” Lombardi said, getting out of the chair. “If I never see you again, have a nice life.”

  “You too, Tony.” Todd grinned.

  Epilogue

  Nearly a year had elapsed when two scuba divers spear fishing in the bay came across the wreck of the Sea Folly. Excited, they spent the rest of the day exploring the galley, bar, and bedrooms. It was late in the afternoon when they forced the hatch to the under-deck storage open and discovered the skeletons. Shocked and having no idea how many there were, they wasted no time getting to the surface and radioing their find to marina authorities.

  Grinich was on the scene the following morning and later that day authorized the salvage of the crime scene. He would have to wait for confirmation of DNA before he could identify the remains, but he had no doubt who they were. When he called Becker, the crooked ex-lawyer appeared to be shocked before saying, “Thank God you’ve found it. The damn insurance company has been refusing to pay out. Now they’ll have to.”

  “Why would Borchard steal your boat? You were associates.”

  “You just said you won’t know who they are until after DNA testing. However, if you’re right, I have no idea. You’ll have to work that one out, detective. Excuse me, I have to call my insurers.”

  Vanessa was also shocked but in Grinich’s professional opinion, nowhere near as shocked as she should’ve been. As she had done all along, she denied knowing what had happened that fateful night. Grinich visited Todd at his Brooklyn office. The young man walked with the aid of a cane and moved like he was seventy. He was more open than his girlfriend, but no more helpful when he said, “Thank you, Detective Grinich. That’s the second best news I’ve heard this year. I hope the DNA confirms your thoughts.”

  “Second best,” Grinich queried.

  “Yes, Vanessa and I are getting married in the fall. Nothing could beat that.”

  “Congratulations.”

  It had been more than a year since Karen Deacon had heard from Grinich, and she was surprised when he called.

  “So the men who were blackmailing me are dead,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “No, Mrs. Deacon, not yet. I think the CDs might have died with them.”

  “How?”

  “I think they hid them in a place that only they knew about.”

  “So there’s a possibility that someone will eventually stumble over the CD? Besides, it’s sure to be on a hard drive somewhere.”

  “I think it’s remote,” Grinich said. “We went over their computers and the video wasn’t on them.”

  “Tom wants to get back together again. If only I could be sure they wouldn’t surface, I’d say yes. I don’t know what to do? What would you do, detective?”

  “Life’s too short to spend jumping at shadows. I think you should make your decision on the basis that the CDs will never surface.”

  “Thank you. I’ll think about what you said.”

  “Good-bye, Mrs. Deacon. Good luck with whatever you decide.”

  Grinich looked at the fat open file in front of him and silently cursed. He had devoted the past year to following and investigating Becker and his cohorts, but they hadn’t as much as jay-walked. His gut told him that Borchard and the Serbians had gotten out of control and Becker had set them up. Grinich had been convinced that Jack Elliot was the hit man, but he had had a watertight alibi. He suspected that Todd and Vanessa knew what had occurred, but they were never going to talk. Grinich closed the file and bound it in legal tape. It was time to move on.

  Reviews: Good, bad or indifferent are important for readers and authors alike. Please leave a review on Amazon.

  Other Books by Peter Ralph

  More white collar crime suspense thrillers by Peter Ralph are on the drawing board.

  For up
dates about new releases, as well as exclusive promotions, visit the author’s website and sign up for the VIP mailing list at http://www.peterralphbooks.com/

  Click here to get started:

  Amazon USA: http://goo.gl/Ya6GB7

  Amazon UK: http://goo.gl/Uxc4Iy

  FREE DOWNLOAD

  Fog City Fraud

  Why is an irate investor holding his advisor’s receptionist hostage on the 16th level of a high rise building?

  Sign up for Peter Ralph’s reader’s group and get your free copy of the novella Fog City Fraud: a financial suspense thriller.

  Click here to get started: http://www.peterralphbooks.com/

  Copyright © 2015 Peter Ralph

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, corporations, institutions and organisations in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously without any intent to describe their actual content.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions

  By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.

  Please Note

  The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated

 

‹ Prev