Pat fidgeted slightly, but so slight Doug thought it might have been his own shakes. He needed a drink. As Doug opened the door to leave Pat and Kyle, Susan was coming out of the room where Tommy was being held. She had told herself she was only coming to watch out for Pat, but was generally curious to find out how much trouble Tommy was in.
She glanced through the open door and it looked like Pat didn’t have an attorney with him. She recognized him from the mock interview video, and instinctively grabbed the door before it could close. “He is my client now. Unless you are going to charge Mr. Marcum, we will be leaving.”
“Wait!” Kyle yelled. “There is no way that you can represent Tommy and Pat. It’s the same damn case.”
“I am not sure that you are right as they could be co-defendants without adverse impacts, but we don’t need to get technical since I am not Mr. Gardner’s attorney. He asked for my continued services, but I refused and arranged other counsel for him,” Susan said.
“No, we won’t be charging him, but we would like to ask him a few more questions,” Kyle replied.
“Really?” Susan said incredulously. “No, that won’t be happening.”
Pat spoke next but more to himself than anyone as the reality of the risk that he had taken started to wash over him. “Yes! Someone here to stop me from talking any more. What the hell was I doing?”
“Suit yourself. We don’t really want to chase after Pat. We all know who should really be going to prison for this,” Kyle said. “Perhaps your client can stay out of trouble by cooperating.”
“May I have some time alone with my client?” Susan asked.
“Take all the time you need,” Kyle said, and walked out.
Once the door closed and they were alone, Pat asked Susan, “Who are you?”
“Susan Hogan, your attorney,” Susan said.
“The Susan who used to sleep with Tommy? What were you thinking?” Pat asked.
“When I slept with Tommy or when I decided I was representing you?”
“Both, I guess,” Pat answered.
“I have no idea on the first question, and because I think Tommy was actually more worried about you than himself, for once,” Susan said.
“Well, things are moving kinda fast. I really should have waited for my attorney to get here, but strangely enough I felt that I could handle the conversation. Now all I know is they said I can go, so I’m getting out of here.”
“That makes sense. Go,” Susan said. “I’m going to stick around here for a couple of minutes.”
“About that. No offense, but you representing me and knowing Tommy seems like a bit of a conflict of interest, don’t you think?” Pat asked. “Plus, I have an attorney already; he's just not very prompt.”
“Well, I’m not representing Tommy anymore, but yes, I still get your point,” Susan answered.
“So, I guess I’m firing you, but thanks for your service,” Pat quipped, trying to make light of a difficult and stressful situation.
“My pleasure, but wait for your attorney next time! And be careful. I don’t know what Tommy has you messed up in,” Susan said.
“But I’m not messed up with Tommy,” Pat said.
“Oh, yeah, right, and attorney-client privilege doesn’t end with my termination as your counsel,” Susan said. She then fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair and looked only at the table, her sentence trailing off to a whisper, and she didn’t get up to leave.
“I don’t have anything else to say to you . . . but do you have something for me?” Pat pushed.
Susan looked at him, hesitated and said, “Tommy wanted me to, but I can’t. I don’t have anything, but good luck.”
“Well, guess I’ll need to figure this out on my own,” Pat said.
“It will probably be a while before Tommy gets out of here. Looks like they may jerk him around considering a second set of charges. It could take a couple days.”
“In that case, if you talk to Tommy, can you please let him know that I was able to get twenty minutes of work done before I was brought in?
Can you please tell him exactly that? He’ll sleep better, and I don’t see that breaking any rules, but I’m no lawyer.”
“Okay, I guess,” Susan said, hesitantly.
“Thanks for the help. See you around,” Pat said. They walked out of the room together. Susan waited until Pat slowly sulked around the corner and then she went back into the room with Tommy.
As soon at Tommy saw Susan, he asked, “Did you tell him? Did you tell him he can’t sell? He needs to just keep buying?”
“No, I didn’t tell him! Susan yelled. “I told you I wouldn’t.”
“You could have just said you were his attorney and then told him,” Tommy pleaded.
“I actually was his attorney, for about a minute, but he fired me, as he should. Besides, aiding and abetting a felony isn’t covered by attorney-client privilege,” Susan said.
“Whatever,” Tommy protested childishly. “Is he at least out?”
“Yes, he’s out and he asked me to tell you he got in twenty minutes of work before he was brought in,” Susan said. “And you are still an absolute jerk. You know you asked me to put my whole career at risk, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know. But it’s important.” Tommy looked at her, pleadingly, hoping that she still cared enough about him to help. “Yeah, important to you . . .” Susan said, almost feeling sorry for Tommy.
“And to Pat,” Tommy said.
“I thought you were more worried about Pat than yourself for once, but now I can’t tell. You clearly aren’t worried about what happens to me,” Susan said, obviously disappointed.
Tommy hesitated and gave her statement some thought before speaking. “Say, actually I’m more worried about Pat, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work on getting me out of here. Where is your high-priced criminal attorney?” Tommy asked.
“You know damn well he isn’t coming, and you know that I referred you to another firm. They must be on their way by now. But what the hell is with you?”
“Oh yeah, sorry. Residual drug impacts, maybe,” Tommy offered weakly, but the reality was he hoped she would change her mind and help him yet again.
“Even though I’m not your attorney, I can tell you there is no way you’re getting out of here in the next forty-eight hours if they don’t want you to. One more thing, even if you were still a client, I would have dumped you when I saw Pat in there without an attorney. I couldn’t have very well represented Pat, even for the few minutes that I was his counsel, without letting the cops know I was no longer yours.”
“Either way, this worked out nicely for you, getting rid of me,” Tommy said.
“And for Pat. Who knows what would have happened in there,” Susan said.
Tommy slumped. “Forty-eight hours. By then, it will be over. John’s going to get away with everything.”
“Maybe so,” Susan said. “Somewhere in this whole mess there’s still a lesson or two for you to learn, whether it’s me teaching you or someone else.”
“What’s with all the threats and hostility lately? Seems like you’ve taken our split a little too personally,” Tommy said.
“God, you are an insensitive ass,” Susan had turned towards the door but swung back around, defiantly looking down her nose at Tommy.
“You’d think that being in the same awkward spot with Jenny that I was in with you, a little more sensitivity might have developed.”
Stunned, Tommy couldn’t utter a word.
Susan continued, “Well, your reaction answered my hunch about you two.”
As Susan walked out, Tommy was still speechless, trying to wrap his mind around how Susan even knew enough about him and Jenny to pose the question. He thought maybe it was as simple as Pat sharing information with her in the other room or as disturbing as Susan stalking him. The way she was acting lately? Well, he wouldn’t put it past her.
41
After leaving the police station, Pat headed back to hi
s office. He stared down the street to the spot where Tommy had been loaded into the back of a police car a few hours earlier. Tension radiated from his shoulders and up through his neck; his ear drums were pounding, and his head throbbed painfully.
He was mad at Tommy. Mad for being put in this spot where everything, tens of millions of dollars and his family’s well-being, might all be at risk, and for a guy he hardly knew anymore. If he just sold now, he would walk away with more money than he ever dreamed of. If he waited, positions on margin could eventually bury him if the market turned the wrong way. He would be the one squeezed out, not John.
His family was only 100 miles away, but even if they were in the next room, he would be all alone to decide what to do next. He continued to stare at that spot on the street until a knock at his office door startled him. Remembering what happened earlier in the day when he answered the door, he hesitated, but slowly opened it. Pat didn’t recognize the man, but quickly noted the pulsing muscles near the back of his jaw. He would have hated to be this man’s teeth. “May I help you?” Pat said reluctantly.
“Why, yes, you may. I wanted to meet the hotshot of the carbon market. My name is John DeFallo.” Pat recognized the name, and as he did, his body slumped, losing a couple of inches in height. The day that couldn’t get any worse, just did.
Reluctantly, Pat moved to the side. “Come in, I guess.”
“We haven’t met before, but you sure don’t seem to be very happy to see me.” Knowing that he had Pat between a rock and a hard place, John sauntered into the room, oozing confidence and control.
“Well, it hasn’t been a very good day.” Finding a nearby chair, Pat sat and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Might that have something to do with your friend being arrested?”
“How do you know about that?” Pat’s surprise just confirmed to John that he was ahead of the game.
Strolling around the room, John picked up items from Pat’s table and desk. One by one he examined them and then returned them without a second thought back to their original positions. “I’m just trying to be a good citizen, you know, helping the police out where I can. Sounds like Tommy might be out of circulation for a while. Looks like it might be just you and me.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Pat said, but without much conviction.
“I think you do.” John smirked, knowing that he got under Pat’s skin.
That was the goal. That was the game. He didn’t need any more from this exchange. “Nice meeting you,” John said and walked out of the office. Pat turned, and without hesitation, dialed the phone.
“Hey Jenny, it’s me. Any chance you could come down to Chicago for a couple of days? I could really use your help.” Pat was audibly shaken.
“Is Tommy putting you up to this? I told him to leave me out of this mess,” Jenny stated.
“No, this is coming from me and if you can make it, please don’t tell Mary,” Pat pleaded.
“So, it’s that bad?” Jenny asked.
“It’s not good.”
“For you, not Tommy, I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, and you probably won’t have to worry about seeing him. I’ll explain when you get here.”
“I’ll meet you for dinner tonight,” Jenny said, and hung up.
After stressing about his next move for hours, and still not coming to any conclusive decision by evening, Pat left his office and hailed a cab. The market was closed now, but Pat had watched as the purchases continued to pile up. He had gone through his cash and expected people to keep selling, so his buy orders would keep getting filled. Except now he would be borrowing money from the bank to do it. This was a whole new level of risk, and he needed Jenny’s help to think it through.
As he got in the cab, clouds had engulfed the city, and the tops of towering buildings disappeared into a grayish haze. It misted more than it rained as his cab headed east into heavier-than-normal traffic. After watching the stoplights on Clark turn green twice without moving, Pat threw ten dollars on the front seat of the taxi for the five-dollar football field length ride and without a word, got out and started to walk. He could hear the cabbie yelling in a language he didn’t recognize. The mist had turned to a steady rain. It all felt good compared to being stuck in traffic. He felt edgy, caged, trapped—and wondered if this was how Tommy always felt.
He trudged on, eventually reaching the lobby of the Hilton on Michigan Avenue. Jenny had texted Pat where and when to meet her, and she was sitting in the hotel restaurant when he arrived. Jenny offered Pat a smile and a napkin as he walked up. “Sorry. No hug. You’re a bit damp for that, and no offense, you look terrible,” Jenny said.
He took the napkin, which was more than adequate to dry his face and close-cropped hair. “Thanks. I feel terrible.” Pat proceeded to give Jenny all of the details of the last ten hours, including the meeting with John. As he finished, John walked up to the table.
“Well, isn’t this my lucky day? Two of Tommy’s favorite people, probably lamenting his fate,” John smirked.
“What are you doing here?” Pat asked, annoyed.
“Following you. So, I see you called in reinforcements,” John said as he extended his hand and leered in Jenny’s direction. Pat and Jenny just stared up at him. John continued, “I can see you two want to be alone to strategize, so I’ll be on my way.” John took a few steps away from the table as Jenny and Pat sighed with relief, but then he turned. “Oh, I almost forgot. Pat, are you coming to the Carbon Trader Association lunch tomorrow or are you too busy going on your silly buying spree?”
“I’m going to the lunch, I guess,” Pat admitted.
“Please do, and maybe you want to bring a guest. It should be quite interesting,” John said, and left for real this time.
“What the hell was that about?” Jenny turned to Pat, incredulously.
“I’m not sure. He’s certainly trying to play me. Wants me to keep buying, I think, or stop. Hell, I don’t know. I do know that Tommy wants me to keep buying.”
“Do you trust Tommy enough to keep buying?”
“I guess,” Pat answered. “He’s truly brilliant when it comes to this stuff.”
“Then keep buying,” Jenny said.
“You do realize that brilliance comes with a price. You’ve gotta realize the guy’s on the spectrum.”
Jenny paused, then understood what had always been in the back of her mind. “Oh, I guess that makes sense, but in the big picture aren’t we all somewhere on the spectrum?”
“Sure, that’s profound and all, but we aren’t on the spectrum like Tommy is.”
“But if he’s going to be right then keep buying,” Jenny offered again.
“Even if Tommy wants me to do it for the wrong reasons?”
“I think so.”
“I don’t know what the hell to do.” Pat said staring at his menu and dreading what tomorrow might bring.
42
Doug and Kyle continued to search for evidence even though Doug’s interest in Tommy for murder had waned. Clearly they both thought that there was something to the market charges but they weren’t above using a murder investigation to further pressure the situation. They could be much more effective with Tommy in custody and not chasing him around. They searched Pat’s phone records, looking for a pattern of contacts prior to big trades or activity. They isolated a handful of short calls from non-local area codes and traced them to several cell phones.
Unfortunately, some of the calls they thought might have been from Tommy actually originated in various cities around the country including Whitefish, Montana. This case had way too many unexplained and confusing ties to Whitefish and this was yet another. They also noted several calls from McKinstry, although that could have just been normal business, Kyle reasoned. Plus, Pat had acknowledged being in touch with Mark. They put the list aside, deciding to take a quick look at everything else and then they would prioritize their next steps.
Doug pulled out the bo
x of evidence from George’s murder case, hoping that going through it again might produce a different result.
Doug had obtained George’s personal effects from George’s wife, Deb, shortly after his death. She had even provided George’s laptop, which had been requested but not expected. The other items that he had with him when his body was found included a set of rental car keys, a money clip, some change, a cell phone, lip balm, and a pack of gum. He rolled the items around on his desk before picking up the money clip. He took the credit cards out. Nothing unusual. Even though he had looked at a report showing the call log several times before, he turned on the phone and started scrolling through it. There were outgoing calls to several Whitefish numbers, but they had checked out as restaurants, ski hills, and work-related calls. Suddenly, one of the incoming numbers that hadn’t registered before jumped off of the screen. It matched the incoming number that Doug had just seen in Pat’s phone records. Who the hell would have called both George before he died and Pat after other than Tommy? Doug pulled up his desk phone and dialed the number. The pleasant voice on the other end said, “You have reached Mark Schmidt.
Please leave a message.” Without responding, Doug slammed down the receiver and shoved the phone across his desk and crashing to the floor.
“What the hell?” Kyle said.
“Things aren’t adding up, and I need a drink,” Doug said. “You coming?”
It was almost quitting time, so Doug and Kyle went around the corner from the precinct to a lower level bar and they each ordered a tap beer. The bar was lined on one side with opaque windows with bright fluorescent lights behind them to make patrons feel like they weren’t in a basement. The bartender was young, plain, and aggressively upbeat.
Doug purposefully struggled to find his wallet, so Kyle turned over his credit card and told the bartender to open a tab. Doug explained the complicating factors of the new information and the extra work that it was going to take to track it down. Mark could have done business with George before he died, and with Pat later, but it seemed like a pretty big coincidence.
The Squeeze Page 22