Russian Roulette dh-1

by Mike Faricy

  “Actually, no. He had one of his toads tell us to back off, not to do anything that would screw up their investigation.”

  “Agent Fahey?”

  “Fahey?”

  “Bayard Fahey, sort of soft-featured, blondish hair, rosy cheeks, blinks incessantly.”

  “I don’t know, could have been. Actually the guy just made a phone call, we never talked to him in person.”

  “Charming, can’t beat the personal touch.”

  “So here’s the deal, Val. We’d like you to talk with our source. I can tell you she has been instrumental in just about completely shutting down Braco’s trafficking operation. Cutting his Internet brothel off at the knees. And, she is the source for all the information regarding the bank in Valdem. She’s provided account names and sort of assisted in the recovery of a number of women and girls forced into prostitution. We’re not asking you to derail any investigations or federal indictments or anything like that. We’d just like you to talk with this source, see if you can help us, and maybe help yourself and her at the same time. Fair?”

  She seemed to consider this for a long moment.

  “I’ll talk with her, see what comes out of it. If there are any illegalities I can’t ignore them or if you’re looking for some sort of federal exoneration it is not in my purview to offer such.”

  “Yeah, we understand that. We just don’t want Braco to get away, maybe relocate in Chicago or somewhere else and continue to make life miserable for everyone he comes in contact with.”

  “Okay, I’ll certainly listen.”

  Chapter 75

  We followed a winding road past a couple of ball-fields, past a playground with swing sets and monkey bars, then drove on a little farther to the picnic area. Aaron, Hale, and Nikki were sitting at a picnic table in the shade, drinking coffee. We parked and walked the short distance from the street up a slight hill.

  “Val, I think you know Billy Hale with I.C.E, and Aaron LaZelle with St. Paul,” I said once we were in the shade.

  “Agent Dziedzic, sorry I don’t have any coffee to offer you. I foolishly thought Haskell here might have had a little more on the ball,” Hale said. His ankle was still in the walking cast and extended along the length of the picnic-table bench. Nikki sat across from Hale with her back facing us as we approached. Aaron sat next to her.

  “Val, this is Nikki Mathias, the woman who’s provided so much assistance to us. Nikki, Agent Val Dziedzic with the FBI.”

  Nikki appraised Val coldly.

  Val said something in Russian, smiled and extended her hand. Nikki replied, took her hand tentatively then quickly let go and stared at the tabletop.

  “Please, please sit down,” Hale directed Val next to Nikki then started to bring her up to speed as I grabbed a spot next to his foot.

  “I’m not sure what Dev has already told you so let me start at the beginning jump in with any questions. Aaron, Nikki, I get anything wrong, you correct me, okay?”

  Nikki nodded, Aaron smiled ever so slightly.

  Hale began with a general overview of the Task Force dating back twenty-four months. Then walked his version forward, looking a couple of times at Nikki for agreement, she nodded her head occasionally but continued to stare at the tabletop. Having come to know her a little better I was pretty sure there wasn’t much, if anything, she missed. He casually skirted around the shooting of Sergie Alekseeva and Villas whatever his name was, storming over the top of the river bluff a few days back. He did mention the call centers, the illegals, the underage girl forced to drink vodka and about to be raped by a fat guy in jockey shorts. Maybe embellished with a little positive spin Nikki’s role in stopping that particular activity. Gave a not-so-flattering take of the FBI’s role and Agent Peters by extension. Val didn’t blink. Then Hale concluded with, “So, while I understand the importance of the bank, the money laundering, and how that particular prosecution will relate to a broader picture my concern, our concern, is the trafficking aspect of things. Braco in particular.”

  “I hope you can understand our situation down here on the local level,” Aaron added. “We still need this guy put out of business, now. Not another twenty-four months from now. Once the money laundering out in Valdem surfaced we can’t reach Peters. He has our calls routed through some sort of communications office like we’re a local newspaper instead of members on the same Task Force.”

  Val nodded then looked at Nikki and said something in Russian.

  Nikki didn’t look up but replied.

  Val seemed to be considering whatever Nikki had said, looked over at Hale, then to me, Aaron, then back again to Hale, took a breath, “Well. I can tell you Peters will be focused on the bank. He’s going to ask you, ask is my word by the way, basically he’ll insist. But he’s going to ask you to wait on Braco Alekseeva so he can establish a trail. Which from what you tell me, he has a pretty good chance of doing. But you are looking at another twelve to eighteen months, minimum. Meanwhile, like you said, Braco Alekseeva will continue to operate.” She said something to Nikki in Russian again.

  Nikki responded, Val nodded.

  “Nikki thinks he has other sources to rebuild his laundering scheme. A guy like that is too smart not to. Problem isn’t if, but rather when he reestablishes, he’ll have the funds and the attorney’s to fight this thing indefinitely. I think you’re sort of in the eye of the hurricane. It’s safe, relative to legal maneuvering, to go after him but there is a limited window. I’m talking days not weeks.”

  “Do you think Peters could be talked into doing both, nailing the bank and Braco at the same time?” I asked.

  “That would be the bold move but in the end Peters is a career corporate man. He didn’t get to the level he’s at by being bold and taking chances. No, he’ll follow the sure thing, the bank. It’s more his style, less chance of getting his hands dirty, less chance of anything going wrong.”

  “I’m not his biggest fan but are you telling me he’s okay with Braco getting away?” I asked.

  “No. He’s okay with going after a bank that has been laundering drug money. That’s his main focus now. If, in the process, some pimp running a few girls postpones his day of reckoning, well, that wasn’t the intent, but it’s how things played out. That’s how he’ll view it.”

  “You’re kidding me?” I said looking over at Aaron.

  “No, she’s probably right. They’ll go after the bank and the CDC’s, the Combio’s, you can see them closing those things down for the next couple of years. Think of the headlines, with all the bailouts and the foreclosure problems. I mean who wouldn’t love to see a banker or two marched off to jail? And they’ll learn something here, they’re not stupid. I’ll lay you odds any bank working with Combio’s is going to be looked at very closely, effective yesterday.”

  Nikki said something to Val, they spoke back and forth in Russian. Hale said to me, “I think from my standpoint we’ve got more than enough to go after Braco.” He drummed his fingers on the picnic table for a moment then said, “Yeah, I’d like to do it. I don’t want to see that animal on the streets any longer than necessary. You?” he looked over at Aaron.

  “That’s what I’ve wanted to do all along,” Aaron replied.

  Chapter 76

  The volume of Braco’s communication skyrocketed with Peters’ high-profile news coverage. Peters continued to route calls from Aaron and Hale through a communications officer. So much for the Task Force.

  Val kept us fairly informed, nothing top secret, but her information proved our initial assessments had been correct. The idea of arresting bankers and shutting down an institution involved in money laundering, along with all the headlines, had proven just too tempting.

  Aaron and Hale planned to move on their own and arrest Braco Alekseeva, Kerri Vucavitch, and Tibor Crvek, ‘The Butcher.’ They planned to go after them on a laundry list of charges including murder, extortion, racketeering, money laundering, human trafficking, and prostitution. They were in the process of having
a stack of warrants prepared when events took a dramatic course of their own.

  Val received a call directly from Peters, still out in western Minnesota. He instructed her to get involved in the missing-person investigation of a sixty-five-year-old St. Paul accountant by the name of Marvin “The Manipulator” Lepke. Mr. Lepke, a CPA whose state licenses had been revoked some ten plus years ago, had just one client, Braco Alekseeva. Lepke was reported missing by his wife within twenty-four hours of the Valdem bank story breaking.

  Aaron, Hale, and I arrived at the Lepke home. Marvin “The Manipulator” wasn’t a complete stranger to anyone who read local newspapers. His legal problems some years back had been in all the papers. He was fat, bald, ill-tempered, and touted as an accounting genius up to the time of his arrest and subsequent incarceration on embezzlement charges.

  “If you even open your mouth, I’m going to drop kick you out of here,” Aaron said to me as we walked up to Marvin Lepke’s front door.

  The home was situated in the posh, staid, Crocus Hill area of St. Paul. A massive two and a half-story red-brick colonial with white trim, a white picket fence, and pink roses climbing over lattice work. An overweight golden retriever was sleeping on the front step. He lifted his head at the sound of the gate closing, wagged his tail once or twice in hopes of a scratch behind the ear, but other than that, never moved.

  “Great watchdog,” Hale laughed.

  Aaron rang the doorbell.

  An attractive blond woman answered the door and invited us in. She might have been forty, but looked no more than thirty-five. She did a fantastic bit of justice to the pair of black stretch pants clinging to her perfectly toned form.

  “Hello, I’m Lori Lepke,” she said.

  Lepke’s daughter I guessed.

  Aaron introduced us, and I responded with a slight nod.

  Gorgeous Lori said,

  “An agent from the FBI is already here, back in the kitchen. Thank you for coming. This way, please,” then turned and we followed.

  The elegant interior of the home really didn’t register. I was focused on Lori’s sexy walk. Entering the kitchen I spied a set of luscious dark curls and returned to reality.

  “Agent Dziedzic,” I said.

  Aaron cleared his throat as a warning.

  “Gentleman,” Val said.

  “Oh, you already know one another?” Lori asked.

  “We’ve worked together on other projects,” Aaron replied.

  “Coffee?” Lori asked, pulling three matching mugs from one of the spotless white cabinets on the wall. She must have worked on her figure twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Very firm and very beautiful.

  “I told all of this to the other officers earlier in the day. But, well as I was just telling agent Dziedzic, my husband, Mr. Lepke, is a creature of habit and when he didn’t come home, didn’t call, I became very worried. After all…”

  Husband? That toad? It couldn’t possibly have been the first time Lori Lepke had seen a shocked look on someone’s face when she identified herself as Marvin Lepke’s wife, Mrs. “Manipulator.” Despite my sense of having just been banged over the head with a heavy shovel I regained control as she continued on with her story.

  “… hours but that’s just not Mr. Lepke. He’s never missed a night with me since the day we married.”

  Small wonder, I thought.

  “How long have you been married?” Aaron asked, taking a mug of coffee from her and nodding thanks.

  “Two years and three months,” she said dispensing mugs to Hale and myself. She made it sound like she had been serving a sentence.

  In response to Aaron’s puzzled look she said, “Yes, I know what you’re going to say, and yes, we met while Mr. Lepke was still in prison. We were married a week after his release. A week after he paid his debt to society,” she added sounding a little more forceful behind her disarming smile.

  “Has he been practicing again?” Hale asked.

  She smiled sweetly, innocently, perfect white teeth.

  “Not in so many ways. I mean, he is a genius as you know. But he was acting more as a consultant, as far as I know he never signed off on things, just advised if that’s what you were getting at. He’s always been one to obey the law.”

  “Since his release,” Aaron added.

  “Exactly.”

  “Who did he advise?” Aaron asked.

  “Come now Lieutenant, you probably know better than I do, why Mr. Alekseeva, of course. That was his only client. But with all the various holdings and businesses he was very busy with just that one client, advising.”

  “No doubt,” said Aaron.

  “So as far as you know, Mrs. Lepke, where was the last place your husband would have been?” Hale asked.

  “Like I was telling Ms, I mean, Agent Dziedzic when you arrived, he was at his office.” She set down her coffee mug and pulled business cards from a small, brown leather holder. The kind someone might carry in their pocket.

  “This is Mr. Lepke’s office address. As far as I know that’s where he was. I just don’t know where he may have gone.”

  “Accounts Services. He could be a window washer for all we know,” I said.

  If my remark made any impression you sure as hell couldn’t tell.

  “Did you go to his office?” Aaron asked.

  “No, I phoned about seven-thirty but there was no answer. I would have gone over there but I don’t have a key. Mr. Lepke was a very private person in regard to his business activities. As I said earlier, when I didn’t hear anything back I phoned the police,” she smiled sparkling white teeth again.

  I took out my cell phone, made like I was reading a text message then shot a couple images of Lori without the flash. She glanced at me but I didn’t think she knew I had photographed her.

  “Excuse me, sometimes these things are like a leash,” I said.

  Lori smiled another assault of sparkling white teeth.

  We asked a number of other questions, most of which the lovely Lori answered perfectly. She smiled, we smiled, then thanked her and departed.

  Chapter 77

  Back at the bunk-bed dungeon I asked the question I presumed was on everyone’s mind.

  “Okay, riddle me this, Batman. How does some lowlife like Marvin Lepke score the likes of the lovely Lori? While he’s still behind bars?”

  “I think that’s why they call him “The Manipulator,” Aaron said.

  “You mean Mr. Lepke?” Hale joked.

  “Him too,” Aaron answered.

  “I would say the timing of his disappearance is interesting on two fronts. Obviously with the Valdem Bank all over the news it gives one reason to pause. The other thing is, don’t you sort of wonder if old “Marvin the Manipulator,” when he wasn’t preoccupied with lovely Lori, hadn’t returned to his old embezzling ways? This time possibly underestimating the guy he was embezzling from?” I asked.

  Hale smiled,

  “Do you mean to tell me that despite what his wife said, Mr. Lepke hadn’t completely learned his lesson?”

  “Or once he learned it he then promptly forgot it,” Aaron added.

  “She’s not exactly what I would call wracked with concern or fear,” Val said.

  “The wife, Lori?” Hale asked.

  “Very strange,” Aaron added.

  “Yeah, how nice of you to come. I’m perfectly made up, I have a great figure. By the way, check out how I can move this fantastic ass when I walk. Care for some coffee? Oh, and did I mention, Mr. Lepke seems to have gone missing. Like he was an attachment to the vacuum, or something,” I said.

  Nikki was sitting on the couch, in what had become her corner, making notes on what looked to be a six-inch stack of transcripts.

  “Nikki, do you recognize this woman?” I asked, showing her the image of Lori Lepke on my phone.

  Nikki studied the shot.

  “There’s two more after that one,” I said.

  She was already shaking her head, then advanced thro
ugh the other two images.

  “Very pretty, but I have not seen her before, I think,” she said and handed my phone back.

  “I’m guessing she might end up with a pretty tidy sum should Marvin go missing. Given Braco is the other player, was she involved? Or, just fortunate? I don’t know,” Hale said.

  “Well, I think I know,” Val said. “There is either an element of the Stepford Wives in this whole thing, or she really is a dumb blond. I’m not sure which.”

  “Any unusual activity in Marvin Lepke’s bank accounts might tell us something. Or at least point in a direction. I can get a warrant for his offices. I wonder if it wouldn’t make sense for you to report to Peters, maybe let him know we’re going to Lepke’s office and it might be a good idea if you were there.” Aaron said. He had his phone out and was dialing.

  “I’m due to report in anyway. Maybe they’ve come across something out there,” Val said and reached for her phone.

  Chapter 78

  Val reported in to Peters who was as consistent as ever, having absolutely nothing to add.

  Aaron picked up the warrant on the way to Lepke’s office and a license number from the DMV on Lepke’s car.

  “Not bad, old Marvin’s tooling around town in a Mercedes CL600 coup. They start somewhere over a hundred grand. Nice set of wheels for an ex-con little more than twenty-four months out of the slammer, obeying the law, and just working to try and get his life back together.”

  “Who says crime doesn’t pay?” I said.

  The four of us met in the parking lot behind the building. Located in a forgettable two story structure, Lepke’s office felt remarkably similar to the call centers we had raided earlier in the week. The Tenants Directory identified Accounts Services as unit 6B.

  Since we didn’t have a key, Aaron located a building-maintenance man who let us in with his passkey, then hung around until Hale told him we’d call if there was anything else we needed.

  Marvin the Manipulator’s office was tastefully furnished if 1969 was your thing. A waiting room was inhabited by a matching upholstered couch and chair, big gold flowers haphazardly splotched all over them. Both the chair and couch were covered by heavy protective plastic. There was an Early American style coffee table positioned in front of the furniture with not so much as an outdated National Geographic on it. In the corner, between the couch and chair, was a brass lamp pole stretching from floor to ceiling with three brass lampshades, angled in different directions, none of the lampshades held a light-bulb.