The Jackpot

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The Jackpot Page 29

by David Kazzie


  Finally, one name bubbled to the surface. A name he'd heard bandied about by other businessmen he golfed with, went to strip clubs with, did deals with. Yup, McKinley had remembered thinking, this just might work.

  Apparently, it had not.

  * * *

  "As soon as your ticket was authenticated this morning," he said, "Fool's Gold Trading Partners, LLC, filed for bankruptcy in the U.S. Bankruptcy Court in Atlanta. We've been waiting for you all weekend."

  "This is unbelievable," Samantha said. "I cannot believe I am hearing this."

  There was a remote control sitting on the table, which McKinley used to power up a flat-screen television mounted in the corner. He changed it to CNBC, where yet again, Samantha saw a Breaking News graphic that affected her directly.

  COMPANY OPERATING SUPERLOTTO FILES FOR BANKRUPTCY PROTECTION

  The graphic cycled to another equally ominous message.

  JACKPOT UNINSURED: NO ADDITIONAL PRIZES FROM DECEMBER 20 DRAWING TO BE PAID

  "Wait a minute," Pasquale said, getting up from his chair, still wincing from the broken ribs, and striding toward McKinley. "Did you send that psychopath after us to steal the ticket back?"

  "What are you talking about?" he asked, half-heartedly. He was so drunk, he actually started to giggle.

  "You did, didn't you, you asshole? You thought if you stole the ticket back, you'd get away with it. You could keep living the good life, flying around in your fucking Gulfstream."

  "Sorry about that," McKinley said. "Can you blame me for trying?"

  "That psychopath has been trying to kill us for three days!"

  Pasquale grabbed McKinley by the collar. Samantha hustled up behind him and pulled him off the inebriated CEO.

  "Do you have any idea how many people he's killed?" he said after he'd collected himself.

  "Hey, I just told him to get the ticket back!" he said. "I didn't tell him to kill anyone."

  "You're a worthless piece of shit," he said.

  "Let's get out of here," Samantha said, laying a hand on Pasquale's shoulder. "It's over."

  * * *

  McKinley waited until they were gone and then smoked a cigarette in the peaceful silence of the conference room. That had been really uncomfortable, but hey, he'd gotten through it. He'd get through this. He checked his watch; it was almost lunchtime. He was in the mood for cheesy pasta, a craving he attributed to his fond memories of Krista. He'd have a drink in the car on the way to Mamma Zu's, a well-known Italian restaurant in a section of town called Oregon Hill.

  On his way to the elevator, he passed a smaller conference room, where Daggett was delivering the bad news to Lauren Walsh and her co-workers. Through the glass, he could see some of them crying. A few were holding hands.

  Time to make himself scarce.

  He rushed out the door onto Bank Street, where his limousine was waiting. He had to get out of here before the FBI impounded his car or arrested him or did whatever it was they did to a CEO when a giant company went belly up. He noticed a handwritten sign reading CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE had been posted to the front door of SuperLotto headquarters.

  "Yikes," he said softly, climbing into the plush rear of the limousine. When shit went bad, it went bad in a hurry.

  Immediately, he tapped on the glass divider to signal the driver, Gus Victorino, to get a move on and turned his attention to the bar. McKinley was annoyed that Victorino couldn't even be bothered to open the door for him. What the hell was the point of having a driver if he couldn't handle such a basic task? That most certainly would be reflected in his tip.

  "Can you pour me one?" a voice behind him asked. It startled him so badly, he dropped his crystal tumbler on the floor. He turned to see a ghastly looking figure sitting in the corner, shaded by the dim light.

  "Hey, who the hell are you?"

  "I'm Charles Flagg."

  Flagg switched on the light above him, revealing every bit of the battle he'd been waging for the last three days.

  "Flagg? Jesus, you look like hell! What are you doing here?"

  "I'm here to see you," Flagg said.

  "How the hell did you find me? I never even told you who I was!"

  "Do you think I just got in this business?"

  "Fine. Whatever. Actually, I'm glad you're here," McKinley said. "I want to tell you to your face that I'm not paying you another dime. She cashed the ticket! You know what that means?"

  "I'm not asking for any payment."

  "Good," replied McKinley. "You know, you really cocked things up. You let that bitch outsmart you? I can't fucking believe it! You're done in this business. Trust me. You'll never work again."

  "What can I say? She beat me fair and square. She has evolved."

  "Evolved? What the hell are you talking about?"

  "Unlike you, she would make Professor Darwin proud."

  McKinley was apoplectic now, his neck veins rippling like eels. "I hired you to do a job, a simple job, and you failed in every way, shape and form."

  "My understanding of evolution has grown exponentially," Flagg said. "I don't call that a failure."

  "Well, Congress would beg to differ."

  "Your legal and financial issues do not concern me."

  "Well, they concern me. I'll probably have to sell the condo at Vail now."

  "You're pathetic."

  "And you're a total loser."

  "I have to ask," Flagg said. "What was the insurance policy? The one that would prevent me from cashing the ticket myself?"

  "I made a digital recording of your voice when I hired you," McKinley said. "I then had it loaded into the company database. The voiceprint analysis would have identified you as an employee of the company, ineligible to win any prizes."

  "Not that it would have mattered," Flagg said.

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Well, for one, the ticket, was, and always has been, worthless."

  "Yeah, but as long as no one tried to cash the ticket, then the company wouldn't have gone belly up."

  "That doesn't make any sense," Flagg said. "You didn't need the insurance policy." He was dealing with a real idiot here.

  "Just get out of here," McKinley said, waving his hand over his shoulder. He turned to pour himself a scotch.

  "That's the first intelligent thing I've ever heard you say," Flagg said. "A good one to end things on."

  It was then, too late for it to make any difference, that McKinley realized that the car was still idling at the curb.

  "Hey–" he said, turning back toward his visitor.

  Flagg drew his pistol and fired a single shot into McKinley's head. Shaking his head at the man's shocking arrogance, Flagg stepped out onto the street and slipped into the empty driver's seat. The driver's body was slouched in the passenger seat.

  Flagg shifted the car into drive and eased away from the curb. He turned west onto Main Street and disappeared into the city.

  EPILOGUE

  Samantha Khouri and Pasquale Paoli were questioned for hours by the Richmond City Police Department, the Henrico County Division of Police and the Federal Bureau of Investigation. With the exception of a few minor details, each gave remarkably similar accounts of the events leading up to Fool's Gold's bankruptcy filing, and both were cleared of any wrongdoing.

  After a thorough investigation, Detective Douglas Byrd concluded that Carter Pierce was responsible for the murders of Todd Matheson and Julius Wheeler, and the cases were closed.

  On extremely short notice, Meridian Risk Management Solutions, the company that would have insured Julius' jackpot, gave each of its employees a $1,000 bonus and threw an extremely large and extravagant New Year's Eve party.

  Pasquale proposed marriage to Samantha on New Year's Day, exactly one year after her brother's suicide bomb attack. After careful consideration, she accepted his offer, and they were married eight months later. Shortly after she and Pasquale returned from their honeymoon, Samantha received a package with no return address. Inside the
envelope was a dog-eared copy of Charles Darwin's On the Origin of Species.

  Samantha and Pasquale purchased the grocery store from her parents, who retired. The store's new owners kept it afloat until the day the vice president of acquisitions of a large grocery store chain stopped in and tried Samantha's hummus. He loved it and began ordering it in bulk. Within a few months, it became the chain's best-selling international item. Samantha began adding more ready-made food items to the store's lineup, and a year later, she spun that division off the store and sold it for $3.5 million.

  Senator Ted Dozier (R-Wyoming) convened congressional hearings to investigate the stunning collapse of Fool's Gold Trading Partners, LLC. The hearings lasted three days and were hastily adjourned when CNN broadcast grainy video it had received of Dozier accepting a bribe from the late Arden McKinley. SuperLotto was suspended, and the National Lottery Act was quickly repealed by a piece of hastily drafted emergency legislation.

  Stunned by the shocking and violent deaths of her parents, Madison Pierce buckled down, graduated from medical school with honors and became a successful psychiatrist in Coral Gables, Florida.

  Cameron Pierce, who reacted differently, died three years later after a botched robbery attempt of, coincidentally, the same bank where Jamal Wheeler's mother met her end. She was buried next to her parents.

  Seven months after Carter's death, Dawn Robertson gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she named Carter. Twelve years later, after attending law school, she became a partner at Willett & Hall.

  The Richmond Commonwealth's Attorney declined to prosecute Monk for the deaths of Leroy Marshall and his brother Tommy, finding sufficient evidence of justifiable homicide.

  The bankruptcy trustee appointed to handle the Fool's Gold bankruptcy retained the Atlanta office of Willett & Hall as counsel for the plaintiffs in the matter of Unknown Heirs of Julius D. Wheeler vs. Fool's Gold Trading Partners, LLC. Despite an exhaustive search, the firm was unable to positively identify a single living blood relative of either Jamal or Julius Wheeler. The case remains under an Order of Stay in a federal district court in Atlanta.

  Fool's Gold Trading Partners, LLC, never emerged from bankruptcy and was quietly liquidated.

  The murders of Jimmy Burrell, Bryan Stewart, Carly Madison, Mark Jenks, Carter Pierce, Ashley Matheson Pierce, Dr. Roger Bouzein, Piggy, Scotty Mitchell, Jamal Wheeler, Gus Victorino, and Arden McKinley remain unsolved.

  Charles Flagg's whereabouts are unknown.

 

 

 


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