There was some shuffling noises; then the file stopped. Jesse, Richard, and Williams all looked at each other. The lawyers were all on the same page.
“Yancy was going to put the city into bankruptcy, a Chapter Nine,” said Jesse.
“Bullshit,” said Florence. “Cities can't go bust.”
“Yes, they can,” said Williams. “The government created the law just for municipal corporations.”
“Orange County out in California filed one,” said Richard. “They made a lot of bad investments and went belly up. It was a mess.”
“So that's why Crawford was moving around money,” said Florence. “Bastard didn't have any.”
Jesse looked back at the papers from the envelope. “Yancy was trying to wipe out some kind of massive bond debt with a bankruptcy or the threat of it,” said Jesse. “Then he was going to use the new, improved Detroit to bring casinos here. But someone knew about it and had him killed. Agent Sanford, pull up the file list. “
Sanford did.
“That one right there,” said Jesse. “The one Louis Franklin so comically called biglsrs.doc. I think it's a list of people who stood to take the biggest losses in the bankruptcy.”
Sanford brought up the list. There were a lot of names and companies listed. They were primary bondholders from the issue back in 1982.
Michael Talli's name was next to a two-million-dollar loss. COG, home of Reverend Junior and the MACs, was up for a half million. Jesse shook his head. He didn't think a church could afford to lose that kind of cash. D’Estenne's name was there. He got sacked for fifty thousand. Even Louise Yancy was down for twenty-five thousand.
That was hardly enough money to kill a mayor for. The list was long, going on for many pages, but there was not a loss big enough for murder. Talli's loss was the biggest of all.
Jesse's heart sank. He might have cleared his name with Williams, but the people who had hired the killers were still a mystery.
“Dead end,” said Richard. “We'd have to investigate everyone on that list to get to the bottom of this.”
“Then we'll do just that,” said Williams firmly. “We have the manpower.”
“Bonds,” Jesse said. That was the key.
“What?” asked Richard.
“Muni bonds,” Jesse repeated. “None of us really know what they're all about. But I know someone who does. We need to wake up one more person.”
Ellis Holmes had almost screamed when he saw Jesse. An FBI agent had brought him over. When he saw all the federal law enforcement, he panicked. Williams calmed Ellis down and explained everything to him.
Ellis regained his composure, and soon he was looking over the biglsrs.doc file.
“Holy Hannah,” said Ellis. “A major Chapter Nine filing. Do you know what that would do?”
“We know,” said Jesse. “What we don't know is how the bonds figure into all of this.”
“It's simple,” said Ellis. “There are many different types of muni bonds. The '82 bonds were tied to the treasury. The city promised to pay them back based on future tax revenues. Stupid, but everyone was stupid in the eighties.”
“The city has been losing its tax base,” said Jesse.
“Right,” said Ellis. “So when these bonds come due, the city might be technically bankrupt. Good enough to file bankruptcy.”
“Okay,” said Jesse. “So Yancy knew that. Who would have wanted to prevent that?”
“Everyone who had a bond,” said Ellis.
“But no one on that list was into the '82 issue for a bundle,” said Jesse.
“Sure there is,” said Ellis. “You see, the '82 bonds had limits on ownership. So, if you wanted to buy over two million, you had to use other companies. A number of these companies are owned by the same entity.”
“Dummy companies?” asked Williams.
“No, they're legit; they're just owned by the same person,” said Ellis. “But I only see a couple I recognize.”
“I can do a search,” said Sanford. “The computer will make a list of all companies that have the same ownership.” He went to the computer and quickly typed out a few commands.
Jesse bent over the computer as it listed the name of a common owner. He stood straight up. “Steven Brownhill,” he said.
The others reacted with shock. The file showed that Brownhill owned over four hundred paper companies that owned bonds. He had purchased a majority of the '82 bond issue. Jesse did a quick calculation of the numbers.
“Seventy million dollars,” said Jesse. “That's what Steven Brownhill stood to lose if the Chapter Nine had gone through. That's enough money to have anyone killed.”
“So Brownhill had Yancy killed to protect his money,” said Williams. “He must have known that Yancy was trying to free up the city's debt in order to get casinos.”
“Everyone knew Yancy wanted those casinos to save Detroit,” said Jesse. “I guess none of us knew how badly.”
“Brownhill could have been at the mayor's house tonight,” said Florence. “The killer in the van could have been going to see him.”
“Or Crawford's in it with Brownhill,” said Williams. “How do we prove it?”
“There's only one way,” said Jesse. “We need the killer.”
“Our men have located him,” said Williams. “They're waiting on me to take him.”
“Good,” said Jesse. “Let's do it.” Jesse looked troubled as Williams picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hey, look at this,” said Sanford as he sat at the computer. “Mr. King, I think you should see this.”
Jesse moved to the computer screen. He watched as Sanford scrolled through screen after screen of a document. Jesse's face contorted into a scowl. He turned to Ramona.
“Son of a bitch,” he said.
15
Odd Jobs
Jeffrey North lay wide awake in his bed. He was worried that his boss would have him killed for screwing up the case. But then again, he didn't know yet. He had lied to him and said that King and the girl were dead and the black case was destroyed. That would buy him enough time to get out of town.
Jeffrey North was a former career army intelligence officer who'd been drummed out of the service for selling drugs to enlisted men. He'd managed a conditional discharge and become a police officer, then later a security expert. He'd fallen into his current profession when a Texas employer needed a mistress to disappear. He soon became known for this talent and opened a new business.
He and John Lake had really blown this one, North thought. The job on the mayor had been neat, until the girl got away. Her escape made the frame on Louise Yancy fall apart. Then they'd screwed up and killed that lawyer. He should have gotten out then, but he kept thinking he could fix it.
Then John Lake had to go and get himself shot. North was not about to negotiate with the lady cop named Florence. John got sloppy, so he was expendable.
North was in his home in Palmer Woods, planning to leave the country in a few more hours. Detroit was too hot for him. Brownhill had a lot of money and influence. But if he was lucky, he'd get away, get to his money, and disappear.
Suddenly his bedroom door was kicked open. FBI officers flooded into the room. North reached for his gun, but an FBI officer had a laser sight right in his face. North stopped and put his hands up.
Williams walked through the crowd. “Jeffrey North.” he said, “you're under arrest for the murder of a public official, the late Harris Yancy. You're also under arrest for the murders of Louis Franklin, Karen Bell, and John Lake. You're also under arrest for possible violations of the RICO Act as well as....”
FBI officers pulled North from the bed as Williams continued his list of violations. Then the FBI officers read North his rights. They were rough as they handcuffed him. They seemed to enjoy pushing the big man around.
Jesse and Ramona walked in. Ramona didn't say anything. She just glared at North. North said nothing. He stood there in his bare feet, staring at them. Even handcuffed,
he looked menacing.
Jesse looked at North with hatred. The man had killed Yancy. He wanted to beat him, hurt him. Ramona stood close to him, looking at North with rage in her eyes. She had reason, he thought.
Florence pushed her way through the crowd. “That's him,” she said to Williams. To North, Florence said, “I was at your little barbecue, you fuck. See you in jail.”
Williams smiled and turned to North, who stared at Florence as though she were the devil himself.
“We know you work for Steven Brownhill. Do yourself a favor, and help us get him.”
North was silent. He kept looking at Florence, the only person who had seen him commit a crime.
“Fine,” said Williams. “Get him out of here, fellas.”
An officer put shoes on North; then they led him away. Halfway to the door North stopped short and turned to Williams.
“Okay,” said North. “I can deal.”
16
New City
The room was packed with media. All the TV stations and newspapers were represented. It looked like the president himself would make an appearance. D’Estenne, Reverend Junior, and Michael Talli all sat on the dais of the fund-raiser. Behind them in big green letters was a banner that read new city project.
Lester Crawford spoke passionately to the audience. He was talking about the future of the city and the uniting of the races.
The dais was filled with the who's who of Detroit. Everyone knew what this event was about: Detroit was coming back.
Steven Brownhill was spearheading a renewal of Detroit's ravaged east side. He'd put together the coalition to get the financing for the project. Crawford was interrupted every so often by applause as the audience grew more and more excited.
Steven Brownhill was in good spirits. The little problem with Harris Yancy was over, and now he could breathe easier. He had to admit that Jesse King had helped him quite a bit. With his silly escape after the second murder, King had drawn all the attention away to himself.
Brownhill watched as Crawford drew closer to announcing him. This would be his finest moment. The purchase of the 1982 bonds had been a complete fiasco. Who knew then that the country would forget about the inner cities and focus on the goddamned military? It was a colossal blunder, and it had almost cost him his family's fortune.
Brownhill had taken over the family trust in the late seventies.
His father had never thought that he was capable, but then his older brother was crippled in a plane crash. Young Steven was given the call.
But he'd blown it. Those bonds were potentially worthless, and the bankruptcy would have ruined him. He'd lost money all through the 1980s. He'd taken a beating in the junk bond craze and missed out on the S&L scams.
When Brownhill found out Yancy was about to put the city into a bankruptcy, he panicked. He called Yancy, trying to convince him not to take the risky action, but Yancy would not back off. He assured Brownhill that the Chapter Nine would not stop him from getting his money. He would just get it later-much later. But Brownhill had already borrowed on the bonds, securing the debt with everything he owned. The bankruptcy would drag on, the lawyers would get rich, and the money would never come back in time.
Yancy was just a glorified dogcatcher, a civil servant. He didn't understand how America worked. Money ruled everything: politics, love, and even death. So he had to eliminate Yancy and his dreams of casino gambling. It was the most cost-effective way to get what he wanted.
Brownhill was still pissed at North and Lake, his two assassins. They couldn't even kill an old man and a whore. He didn't like using them, but North had a good reputation, his partner in this crime had insisted.
Brownhill clapped as the audience started to applaud for Crawford again. Brownhill disliked being so close to the murders. Normally, he would have had a subordinate do the dirt for him, but again his partner would have it no other way. Since they had planned the murder together, his partner wanted to make sure that Brownhill had a lot to lose.
As the body count grew, Brownhill thought seriously of having both assassins executed. He was relieved when North told him the case had been closed. Now he would lay low for a while, get on with business, and one day North and Lake would disappear. Then the case would really be closed.
Crawford was finishing up his speech. This would be a start of a new life for him, Brownhill thought. After this project was completed, the city would be so grateful that it would find a way to pay those bonds.
Brownhill smiled a little. He'd done it. It was scary for a while, but he'd weathered the storm. And after this was all over, he'd get into politics and eventually Washington. Maybe in time even God would forgive him.
“... and so I give you the founder of the New City Project,” said Crawford, “Steven J Brownhill.”
The audience stood and applauded. The TV cameras all turned to Brownhill. The cameras flashed, and his wife kissed him. He smiled for them all and walked over to the podium, taking out his speech.
Brownhill shook hands and posed with Crawford. Then Brownhill took the podium and tried to quiet the audience. Soon they all sat down. Brownhill thanked them and flattened the pages of his speech.
Suddenly a flood of armed men entered the room. There was already security, but these men wore FBI jackets.
Brownhill's heart exploded as the men drew closer to the stage. In the advancing crowd Brownhill saw two ghosts: Jesse King and Ramona Blake.
As the FBI agents advanced, the dais was shocked, and the audience gasped and murmured loudly. The lead agent went to the podium and handcuffed Brownhill. He didn't fight at all.
Jesse, who still looked like hell, walked up to the microphone and turned to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am Jesse King, and I am here with the FBI and U.S. Attorney Nathan Williams to arrest Steven Brownhill for the murder of the late Harris Yancy.”
The crowd exploded. The TV and newspaper people rushed the stage. Williams had his men hold off the reporters and the bodyguards, as Brownhill was read his rights.
Jesse looked at Williams, who nodded. Jesse moved over to the dais with two FBI men behind him. He was going to arrest Brownhill's coconspirator in the assassination.
Jesse walked toward D’Estenne, who was looking at him with wild disbelief.
Jesse moved by him.
He moved to Reverend Junior but didn't even look at the minister as he went by.
Michael Talli went pale as Jesse stopped in front of him. Jesse cleared his throat, gave Talli a mean look, then moved on.
Talli breathed a sigh of relief and took a drink of wine.
Jesse stopped again, this time in front of Mayor Crawford.
“Hello, Mr. Mayor,” said Jesse. “I need you to step away from Mrs. Yancy, sir.”
The FBI agents went to Louise Yancy and arrested her. Seth Carson, a tall, good-looking man of fifty, was seated next to her. His mouth hung open as Louise was read her rights. An agent grabbed him.
“Just the lady,” said Jesse.
The agent let Carson go as he and the other members of the dais were cordoned off by the federal agents. Jesse walked over to Louise. His face was angry and just a little sad.
“You pulled the security assignment that night,” said Jesse. “I checked the log, and you were there that day, right after Walter Nicks. Samuel, the house director, keeps a list of people who come in along with the times.”
Louise Yancy was silent. Her eyes were filled with tears. Seth Carson yelled something to her as the FBI agent moved him away from her.
“I checked the contents of a disk your dead husband made,” said Jesse. “It had all of Brownhill's dummy companies on it, including BoldCom, which is headed by Seth Carson. It also had an outline for a proposed property settlement for the divorce Mayor Yancy was going to file against you. Implicating yourself was brilliant. You knew you had an airtight alibi in Carson. Sooner or later the case against you would fall apart, and you and Brownhill would be in the clear. And later Seth Carson would
run for mayor like he's been threatening to for so long and you'd be first lady again.”
Louise Yancy started to say something but instead doubled over, crying. The FBI men tried to straighten her as she collapsed to the floor. They had to pick her up and carry her off the platform.
Williams and the FBI cleared a path in the chaos and started taking Brownhill and Louise Yancy to the door. Reporters descended on them, flashing pictures and yelling questions.
Outside there was a federal van waiting. The Detroit police officers were now working with their federal counterparts to maintain order.
Jesse was escorted through the crowd to the entrance. He'd left Ramona in the hallway and couldn't wait to sec her. He found her standing next to an FBI agent, smiling at him. She waved at him with her bandaged hand.
Jesse headed her way, but halfway there he was cut off by a woman in an elegant evening dress. She filled his field of vision, cutting off the sight of Ramona's smiling face.
Jesse was speechless as Connie, his fiancée, grabbed him and pressed her tear-filled face into his, smothering him with kisses.
17
Light Of Ages
It was mercifully dark as Cane opened his eyes in the hospital room. He felt the presence of others, but he could only see darkness.
He vaguely remembered being shot and the paramedics putting him on the ambulance. Then he'd blacked out and gone where He could never go, the darkness of his soul.
Cane moved slightly. He felt the numbness of the drug he'd been given in the operation. Tubes ran from his body into a machine and IV bags.
He was alive.
He had won again. Through all of this God had tried to foil him, belittle him, and in the end He tried to execute him. He remembered the dark pit in juvenile detention and the strength he'd gotten from it. Now he was even stronger than he'd ever imagined. He had defied death again.
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