Another Whistle Blower

by Douglass, Carl;

  Amil Sondregger, ASAC of the FBI’s East Coast securities fraud division, interrupts to ask, “Granted Mr. Edgington’s importance in this ongoing investigation and probable prosecution, we have to presume that sooner or later he and his wife will be the targets of reprisal and retaliation. What are the plans to protect them?”

  “A good and pertinent question, Amil,” answers DDFBI Gaspero. “We are developing a very intense plan for their protection. For their safety, we are not going to discuss even the least part of that plan other than to say that they will enter WITSEC [The United States Federal Witness Protection Program, the Witness Security Program] and will only resurface when they must testify. We are aware of the great sophistication and capability of the consortium and of its ability to corrupt. We are also aware of the ruthless nature of their instinct for preservation; so, we will do everything in our power to keep them safe.”

  McGee and Ivory are glad their role in the security of the Edgingtons is being kept very much sub rosa. It is a Latin phrase meaning literally “under the rose,” but has come to be used in common English to denote secrecy or confidentiality. More recently, sub rosa activities have become a byword for covert operations. McGee and Associates mean to keep their involvement covert, and their greatest fear is that there will develop a leak somewhere in this vast and complicated secret and sealed effort.

  It is Michael L. Nielson, chief investigator from the SEC OCIE [Office of Compliance Inspections and Examinations]’s turn.

  “I’ll bring you up to speed on our role in all of this. The SEC OCIE [Office of Compliance Inspections and Examinations] is charged with ferreting out criminal activity in the stock market. We work closely with the MSD [Market Surveillance Division] of the NYSE [New York Stock Exchange]—the regulation division responsible for monitoring trading activities on the floor and the records of trading by member firms of NYSE-listed securities. After I got a heads up about the consortium and its possibly illicit activities, I asked them to put a microscope to their transactions. Several floor officials at the NYSE then sent in reports of suspicious activity to the MSD by the brokers involved with the consortium’s stock holdings. The MSD flagged a series of what appear likely to be trading abuses and recommended formal investigation by the NYSE Regulation’s Enforcement Division. Apparently, the MSD investigators have found clear examples of greenmail—buying a large amount of a company’s stock so that the management—fearing a takeover—will buy it back at a premium. Randy St. James in enforcement is on it. He is a bulldog if ever there was one, and he knows very well how to keep the suspect brokers from getting wise to what he is doing.

  “The SEC Office of the Whistleblower was formed as part of the Dodd-Frank Act. Along with the FBI and NYSE officers, they help handle whistleblower tips and complaints, and provide guidance to the Enforcement Division staff. They help the Commission determine the size of awards for each whistleblower. The Office offers whistleblowers significant incentives and increases protection for whistleblowers in the SEC whistleblower program. The Dodd-Frank legislation authorizes the SEC to reward those who provide information concerning violations of the federal securities laws at companies that are required to report to the SEC. Because of their large stock holdings, that applies in spades to the consortium. In addition, the Act strengthens the whistleblower protection provisions of the federal False Claims Act, and contains one of the strongest confidentiality provisions for whistleblowers ever enacted. The Dodd-Frank Act is the law that allows relators to report fraud on a basis of anonymity by filing a claim through an attorney like Mr. Rasmussen here.

  “Additionally, the law puts teeth into provisions to prohibit employers from retaliating against whistleblowers. Employers may not fire, demote, suspend, threaten, harass, or discriminate against a whistleblower. I presume—in the present case—that also includes a prohibition against murder. The Dodd-Frank Act expands the reach of whistleblower protections provided under the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002 to include employees of public companies and employees of its private subsidiaries and affiliates as well as government. Whistleblowers who suffer from employment retaliation may sue for reinstatement, back pay, and any other damages incurred. Federal judges and juries have been very sympathetic to whistleblowers.

  “Boy, this consortium seems to rival the mafia in its reach, creativity, and ingenuity. They are involved in almost every criminal activity you can think of, and I presume that concepts like common decency, ethics, or Judeo-Christian morality have no interest for them. Their bottom line and self-promotion seems to rule the day. We have our work cut out for us,” observes Caitlin O’Brian, speaking for herself and for the other officers who remain silent.

  Chapter Twelve

  Three days after the unproductive meeting in the Ogden, Utah IRS facility, the usual—and usually very effective—channels at consortium headquarters yield no hint of the whereabouts of the colorless little drugstore owner from Utah. Agents for the consortium swarm all around the Sugarhouse neighborhood making a nuisance of themselves openly displaying Cecil Edgington’s photograph and accosting passersby with questions about whether or not anyone has seen the man.

  Sugar House is located near Westminster College, the Commons shopping center, and Sugar House Park. Consortium employees make a nuisance of themselves in the park’s rose garden, playgrounds, pavilions, even in the jogging lane. Pretty girls stop young men walking or running along Parley’s Creek and at its terminus in a large pond. The area name derives from the sugar beet test factory of the Pioneer-era Deseret Manufacturing Company, formerly a blacksmith shop.

  FBI agents watch and record the nearly frenzied activity of the searchers. They sit in a small park named Hidden Hollow Natural Area, created in 2001 as a development project to beautify the city in preparation for the 2002 Winter Olympics. The park was built on land where the old Sugar House prison once stood. The FBI agents are amused when the unwitting searchers repeatedly impose themselves on the federal officials. Their reports back to FBI headquarters underscore the apparently desperate quality of the consortium’s search and confirm that they are having no success.

  Private investigator Caitlin O’Brian works with Special Agent Hiram Ledbetter from the AF/MLU [Asset Forfeiture/Money Laundering Unit] of the FBI, while her partners McGee and Ivory White join forces with the agents shepherding the Edgingtons’ absorption into the WITSEC program. Hiram is a starched shirt, conservative tie, uptight young man. Caitlin is a rough and ready young woman, more attuned to the modern times. He has a close-cropped haircut, neatly combed, and shined shoes. She has a purple streak on the right side of her hairdo, the side which is twice as long as on the left. He has clear, unmarked skin. She has two piercings in each ear and a tattoo low on her left breast. He is a careful, quiet spoken Baptist; she is a bawdy and funny agnostic. Hiram Ledbetter is fascinated by the non-FBI partner who has been foisted upon him, and is beginning to like her—perhaps too much for the comfort of the staid bureau hierarchy.

  Caitlin is busy hacking into the consortium mainframe computer when Hiram walks up behind her to see what she is doing.

  “What’s up?” he asks casually.

  “Hacking into the perps’ computer,” she replies equally nonchalantly and continues her work.

  He knows that he should make a fuss. He’s the FBI, and she is committing a crime. However, she is definitely producing valuable information. After two days, Caitlin has gathered completely convincing evidence in a timeline study of the data in the consortium’s computers of money laundering to be able to convince even the most biased jury. Hiram’s problem is how to make it possible to present her information to a jury.

  “Caitlin, this stuff is being obtained illegally. By all rights, I shouldn’t allow you to continue.”

  She turns slightly to face him, and he catches a hint of her perfume. She smiles, and he finds himself getting a little flustered and unable to concentrate. The top button of her blouse is undone. He looks, and she sees him and laughs. He blushes.


  “Caitlin, you are a distraction. A nice one. But, tell me how we can use this stuff you’ve obtained.”

  “Easy. In fact there are three ways. I can delete the date stamps; so, no one can prove one way or another when the material came into our possession. You—big special agent—can get a judge to agree to a secret warrant just for the clandestine computer search. Or we can hope for the best—that they don’t get on to us and delete the data or get rid of the computers—and wait until we have a blanket no-knock search warrant and swoop in and retrieve it all legally. It’s up to you.”

  Somehow, more of her is showing. He blushes some more, which embarrasses him.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  She asks that with a laugh.

  He looks at her with amusement; he likes her more than he fears her recklessness.

  “I’ll have to think on what we should do about the information, but I know what I want you to do.”

  “What?”

  “Go out to dinner with me.”

  “A date? Why, Special Agent Ledbetter, that would be fraternization.”

  “So?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Caitlin is surprised at herself. She has not had a real date for over a year. He is different, and she feels like she can let down her guard with him.

  Hey, she says to herself, this might even be fun. In fact, maybe this guy would be good for me.

  Immediately after the long meeting in David Rasmussen’s law offices, Cecil and Andrea are taken by Ivory and McGee to get a Hollywood makeover by experts and emerge as people who would not be recognized by their family members. They then fly to Washington, DC, in the corporate jet. Two cars meet them at the passenger loading area of Reagan International. They are driven by two of Ivory’s homies—now on the McGee & Associates payroll as security personnel. At a discreet distance are two other vehicles watching. All vehicles are old and nondescript, and all but invisible to a casual onlooker. All of them have bulletproof windows and tires, and large powerful engines that belie the apparent dotage of the cars and vans.

  Cecil rides in one car with McGee and Quince Longley, and Andrea rides in the other with Ivory and Able Drahman. They take a circuitous route through backstreets of the district and finally stop a block away from a blocky yellow-beige, eight-story unimposing office building.

  “Where are we?” Cecil asks.

  “Washington Field office, 601 4th Street NW, Washington, DC,” McGee answers.

  Cecil and Andrea are given old grey hoodies and carry large black umbrellas to guard against the light drizzling rain. The Edgingtons and their security retinue check in at the security desk and are escorted to the Office of the SAC, Washington Field Office.

  “Welcome,” says the imposing special agent in charge, one of the most important agents in the FBI.

  With him are two unsmiling, all-business federal marshals.

  “Let me introduce myself. I’m SAC Sylvester Bradley. The purpose of this meeting is to get you started in the witness protection program. Are you ready, Mr. and Mrs. Edgington?”

  “We guess so,” replies Cecil, not at all sure how to handle all of the newness of his and his wife’s lives.

  “It is understandable to be nervous. It’s a big change. Hopefully, for you, it may be temporary, but I wouldn’t count on it. Have you transferred all of your accounts to a secure place as instructed by the DDFBI?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want to know the details, and you should never share with anyone except each other. I understand that Mr. McGee helped you with the arrangements.”

  “He did, but he refused to know where the accounts would be held. He offered choices, and I made the decisions. It went very well and easily, I must say.”

  The arrangements were for the funds to be transferred to the Copra Producers Bank in Vanuatu, a nation that is overtly hostile to anyone seeking to gain information about accounts other than account owners asking about their own accounts, and only after a complex identification process. Cecil and Andrea have gone to great lengths to keep the account information in places safe from even the most prying eyes.

  “Ordinarily, we would not allow anyone—even FBI agents—outside of WITSEC to know anything about your plans or whereabouts. Because of prior experience with McGee & Associates, we are comfortable with them helping with security. You must not tell anyone else about your new identities or the place where you live or how you make a living. Not even family, especially not family. That is for their protection as well as yours. I am not an alarmist, Mr. and Mrs. Edgington; but, you have to keep in mind at all times that you are entering into a life as ordinary human beings, who—of necessity—are caught up in a life-and-death game of deception in the name of justice. Not long from now, warrants will be served in a deliberately sudden vigorous fashion on the consortium. Given what we know about them, they will almost certainly come after you with serious death threats. They will try and bribe agents, your friends and associates; and they will monitor your computers, your workplace, and anyone who might be able to give them information. They will kill you if they can find you.

  “Of course, we will do all in our power to make that very difficult for them. We will have undercover agents watching you, and McGee & Associates will be in the shadows to protect you for as long as it takes. But the two of you have an obligation to do your part. No mistakes, no nostalgic calls. Your whole life now must be divorced from the old one on an absolute level. One day—not so far off—you will be called to return to testify. We will be there to protect you. It will be frightening, uncomfortable, and inconvenient; but we’ll get you through it. The program is administered by the US Department of Justice; so, you will have all of the resources of the United States of America working for you.

  “These two marshals will be responsible for you.”

  He looks at the two men.

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Edgington. I’m Marshal Fred Leahy, and this is Marshall Tom Washington. Acting under the authority of Republic Act No. 6981, we are going to give you new identities with authentic documentation. We will see to it that you have proper housing, at least a subsistence level of funding for basic living expenses and medical care, job training, and employment assistance to help you fit into your new home. The US Marshals will provide 24-hour protection for you while you are in a high-threat environment, including pretrial conferences, trial testimonials, and other court appearances. In both criminal and civil matters involving protected witnesses, the US Marshals cooperate fully with local law enforcement and court authorities to have you fulfill your legal responsibilities; but, even then, we don’t reveal your true identity. Your past involvement with the consortium, your testimony, and your living circumstances are kept forever secret. We are uncomfortable with having McGee & Associates in the know and involved, but I guess we can trust SAC Bradley’s experience and judgment.

  “Tonight, a US Marshal flight will take you to Valletta, the capital of Malta, where you will become long-time citizens of the country with the most authentic documents that can be obtained anywhere for any price. You will not have problems with your documentation.”

  The Edgingtons arrive in Valletta via the McGee & Associates corporate jet. It is the wee hours of the morning. They are met by Marshals Leahy and Washington who traveled via a commercial flight. The marshals escort the Edgingtons to their new home under cover of darkness. The house is fully furnished and decorated. It looks almost exactly like every other house in the area. When they wake up in a few hours with jet lag, they will be Henry and Gladys Hewittson. Henry is a retired civil engineer. They will learn a smidgen of Maltese language and some Sicilian-accented Italian before their stay is done. They will become accustomed to traditional Maltese music known as għana, consisting of background folk guitar music with a few people taking turns to argue a point in a sing-song voice. They will not like—but they will adapt—to living on island occupying only 122 square miles—one of the world’s smallest and mo
st densely populated countries—408,000 souls who have different religions, different political ideas, and a profoundly provincial view of the world. They have to adjust to using euros instead of dollars and not having HDTV. They are bored stiff.

  Malta’s location as a naval base has given it great strategic importance throughout its long and colorful history. As a result, there are a great many backgrounds represented on the island, and that is uncomfortable for the Edgingtons, who lived in Utah all of their lives and in the same house beside White Anglo-Saxon Protestants (and Mormons) all of their adult lives. Catholics and Italians seem foreign and strange. Malta is known to have the best climate in the world, and tourists abound in the summer. For the dislocated Edgingtons, it is too hot and too humid and too claustrophobic. However, their problem of being bored is shortly to come to an end, and they will look back with fondness to those languid days.

  David Nelson reacts with icy fury when he gets the same report from the electronic searchers, the boots-on-the-ground troops, and every police officer, attorney, state and federal employee on the consortium’s payroll: Cecil and Andrea Edgington have vanished. He translates that as code: Cecil and Andrea Edgington are in the United States Federal Witness Protection Program. Nelson curses until he is tired, then slowly composes himself and walks across the hall to CEO Dilworth’s office. Dilworth’s administrative assistant is used to having the discourteous and brusque thug-looking man march right into the CEO’s office; so, she pays him no mind.

  “Martin, we have a problem.”

  “No kidding. What particular part of our problems are you talking about now, David?”

  “Cecil and Andrea Edgington—the pipsqueak pharmacist from the hinterlands who was a confidant of the late lamented Chick Sorenson—has vanished. That means to me that he is now in WITSEC and is probably already registered as the original source—the relator, if you will—for the feds. We cannot allow him to testify. For one thing, we don’t have any good idea what he knows or what he can prove. Sorenson’s briefcase, car, house, and computer were clean. There was nothing that indicated that he was ever employed by the consortium. Since Edgington is apparently being given the super security treatment, it is not a wild guess to think he may have some of Sorenson’s information.”