Insider Justice

by Dennis Carstens

  While he waited for the coffee to brew, he found a tablet of paper and a pen. Sitting at his small dining room table, he began to write down everything he remembered. When he finished, he sipped his coffee and read what he wrote. After adding a couple of details, he could wait no longer. It was a few minutes after six, and he was desperate to tell someone.

  “What time is it?” Carvelli groggily asked.

  “Don’t ask,” Marc said.

  “My clock says 6:10, but that can’t be right. No one in their right mind would be up at six on a Saturday morning. I must be having a bad dream. I’m going back to sleep now…”

  “Shut up and listen to me!” Marc yelled into the phone. “I had a memory come back, and I think it’s important.”

  “Marc, that’s terrific. I mean that, too,” Carvelli said. “It couldn’t wait a couple of hours?”

  “No, I needed to tell someone. You know that story in the paper? The one about Cannon Brothers Toys and Zach Evans and Lynn McDaniel?”

  “Hold on,” Carvelli mumbled. “Let me get up.”

  There was a silence for several seconds while Carvelli got out of bed. As he headed toward the kitchen, he put the phone up to his ear.

  “Okay, I’m up. Yeah, I remember it, what?”

  “The engineer’s memo that was sent to that reporter…”

  “What memo?”

  “There was an internal Cannon Brothers memo from the chief engineer that showed Cannon Brothers knew about the defective batteries,” Marc continued.

  “So?”

  Frustrated with Carvelli’s ignorance, Marc said, “If you were a lawyer you’d understand.”

  “Do I hang up now so you don’t insult me again?”

  “Sorry. Listen, Cannon Brothers is being sued for a defective product that killed and injured a bunch of kids.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Carvelli said.

  “They claimed the defect was hidden from them by the Chinese manufacturer. It was the batteries. Anyway, Zach found a memo from Cannon Brothers that…”

  “Okay, I remember. That was what the paper had. So?”

  “Zach told me at the jail in Foster that he had sent the memo to me. But I never got it. Someone in his office, he believed it was his secretary, intercepted it. She probably gave it to someone else at the firm. That’s how it got leaked to the paper.”

  Carvelli thought about this for a moment before saying, “Why would someone at the firm leak a document that would sink their own case?”

  “I don’t know,” Marc sighed. “That’s the part I can’t figure out. But the more I think about it, the more I think that might have been what got Lynn and Zach killed.”

  “A lawsuit? Come on…”

  “No, the money. There are enormous amounts of money involved in all of this. Zach also told me the firm put on a big PR campaign to make Cannon Brothers look innocent. He said it was to push up the stock price. Then this memo hits the papers and the stock goes in the tank. Cannon Brothers is on the verge of bankruptcy. I’ve had an eye on it because it’s been in the papers so much lately.”

  “We need to have a little come to Jesus chat with this secretary if we can figure out who it is,” Carvelli said.

  “Margaret or Marge or Marjorie something is all I can remember. An uncommon last name,” Marc said.

  “That’s something,” Carvelli said. “But again, why would…”

  “I don’t know,” Marc said. “We find out who did it and maybe why, it may lead us to who had Zach and Lynn killed.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. We’re having a meeting at Vivian’s this afternoon. Maddy’s going to a party at Cal’s and…”

  “I know, I’ll be there. Hey, I’m having lunch with Eric and Jessie today. Noon at Artie’s. They’d love to see you. Bring Maddy, too. I’ll buy.”

  “A meal on you? I’ll be there. I’ll call Maddy and see if she can make it. Later,” Carvelli said then ended the call.

  Marc, his kids, and Maddy were already there when Carvelli strolled in. He found them seated in an alcove in the back at a large, round table. Carvelli took the empty chair between Eric and Jessica.

  The waitress appeared and she knew Carvelli. She began a good-natured round of back and forth barbs with him.

  “Marc was telling us about his memory coming back about that memo the Star Tribune was sent,” Maddy said.

  “Yeah, I heard all about it bright and early this morning. Thanks for the call,” Carvelli said sarcastically. “Next time, call her,” he continued nodding at Maddy.

  “I wrote it all down,” Marc said. “Before I called you. I wanted to get it on paper in case I forgot it again.”

  “Good idea,” Carvelli said. “Can I see it?”

  Marc handed the folded papers across the table to him. While Carvelli read through it, Maddy ran her hand across Marc’s scalp.

  “I told you it would grow back,” she said referring to the short bristles of hair.

  “You weren’t sincere,” Marc said.

  “What do you think, Jessie? Should he leave it like that?” Maddy asked.

  “No! That is not a good look for middle-aged white guys,” Jessica replied.

  Eric leaned forward and stared at Marc’s hairline. He said, “You’re starting to recede a bit, Dad.”

  “I am not! Really?” Marc replied. He then said with a resigned shrug, “Whatever. Take what life gives. Besides, smartass, it gives you something to look forward to.”

  “It skips a generation,” Eric replied.

  “Grandpa Charlie,” Marc said referring to his ex-wife’s father.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of him,” Eric said with a distressed look.

  “Is he bald?” Maddy asked.

  Carvelli placed Marc’s notes on the table and interrupted by asking Marc, “You sure about this?”

  “As far as I can remember.”

  “Could the secretary he referred to be Marjorie Griebler?” Carvelli asked.

  “Yes! That’s it,” Marc said. “How did you…”

  “Went on their website and checked out the staff,” Carvelli said. “I still don’t get it. Why would someone in the firm leak it to the press? It would kill their defense of the lawsuit, wouldn’t it?”

  “You’re assuming it was someone in the firm that leaked it to the media,” Eric said.

  “Who stands to gain?” Maddy added. “Why would someone leak it to the media? To collapse the stock of a company?”

  “Short sell,” Eric said.”

  “What is that?” Marc asked looking at Carvelli.

  “I’m not exactly sure how it works, but I’m studying it in school and at work,” Eric said.

  “Sometimes I wonder about you two,” Maddy said. “How did you get through law school?”

  “Barely,” Marc joked.

  “Short selling is betting that the price of a stock is too high. You believe it is about to fall,” Maddy began explaining. “Let’s say ABC Company is selling at eighty bucks a share and you think it is about to go down. You borrow a thousand shares through a broker. You promise to return a thousand shares at a later date.

  “You immediately sell the thousand shares and get eighty thousand dollars. If you are right and the shares are overpriced and it does go down, you buy a thousand shares when you need to return them at the lower price and keep the difference.”

  Maddy paused at this point and saw puzzled expressions on Marc and Carvelli’s faces. Eric nodded and said he understood.

  “Why do I feel like I should use crayons and paper to draw stick figures with arrows and circles to explain this stuff to you two,” Maddy said.

  Marc looked at his son and daughter and said, “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  Of course, this caused them both to lose it and bust out laughing.

  “You borrow the shares and sell for eighty thousand. A month later the time is up and you have to replace the shares you borrowed. But, lucky you, the price is now seventy bucks a share. You buy a thousand shares for seve
nty grand. You sold them for eighty. You made ten thousand dollars. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” both Marc and Carvelli said.

  “What happens if the price is ninety bucks a share?” Carvelli asked.

  “Then you guessed wrong, and you lose ten grand,” Maddy said.

  “How do you know this stuff?” Marc asked.

  “You mean the ditzy chick?” Maddy asked with obvious displeasure.

  “I didn’t say that!” Marc tried to protest and backpedal.

  “Oh boy, here we go,” Carvelli said, then turned his head away from Maddy and looked up at the ceiling.

  “Not by reading Cosmo or Sports Illustrated,” Maddy replied.

  Marc looked at Carvelli and said, “I don’t read Sports Illustrated. Do you?”

  “Not since I renewed my subscription to Cosmo. I only read the swimsuit edition,” Carvelli answered.

  “This stuff goes on all the time,” Maddy said ignoring the two men. “Stock manipulation by speculators.”

  “Isn’t it illegal?” Carvelli asked.

  “Very,” Maddy said. “But our government representatives get a lot of campaign money from these Wall Street guys. Both political parties are in it up to their ears.

  “Eric,” she continued looking at Marc’s son, “you want a research project?”

  “Sure,” he answered, eager to help if he could.

  “I want you to track the stock of Cannon Brothers over the last, oh, I don’t know, eighteen months. And do the same for news stories about them during that same time.”

  “I can do that,” Jessica offered.

  “Okay, Jess,” Maddy said. “Let’s see if there’s been some type of media push, up or down on this. And, Eric, see if you can track any recent short selling of Cannon Brothers and by whom.”

  “Okay,” Eric said. “I know a couple of guys at work who can probably tell me.”

  “We should go,” Marc said while examining the bill.

  “I have a party to go to this afternoon,” Maddy told Eric and Jessica.

  “Oh, a party. Can I…” Jessica started to say.

  “No,” her father emphatically said.

  When they had left the restaurant and were walking toward the parking lot, Marc suddenly stopped. The others did as well and turned to look at him.

  “When we were talking about making Cannon Brothers stock crash you asked who stood to gain,” he said to Maddy.

  “Yeah, I did that’s….”

  “And didn’t your guys spot those two Cannon Brothers themselves pulling into Cal Simpson’s place a while back?” Marc asked Carvelli.

  “That’s right,” Carvelli replied. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “And Zach told me Cal Simpson and his daughter, Samantha, both knew about the engineer’s memo. Zach also believed they were looking for it. He told me he believed his office at home and the firm had been searched shortly before his arrest. Cal Simpson would certainly know how to manipulate stock prices and short selling.”

  “Yeah, but how did he get his hands on the memo?” Maddy asked.

  “Marjorie Griebler could’ve been on his payroll. She may have sent everything Zach did to him,” Carvelli said.

  “Possible,” Marc agreed.

  “It sounds like a stretch, though,” Carvelli added. “How much stuff, paperwork, mail, you name it, does a busy lawyer turn out?”

  “Quite a bit,” Marc said.

  Marc looked at Eric and said, “What we’re asking you to do just became a lot more important. Are you going to get in trouble snooping around trying to find this stuff out?”

  Eric paused for a moment thinking then said, “I don’t know. I don’t see how. I’ll claim it’s research for a paper I’m doing for school. They’ll buy that.”

  “Okay,” Marc said. “Be careful. You finally have a real job. I don’t want you to lose it.”

  Marc turned to Carvelli and said, “We need to find this Marjorie whatever and find out what she did with the document Zach was mailing to me.”

  “I’ll use my Italian charm on her,” Carvelli said trying to look seductive by half closing his eyes.

  “Oh, god,” Maddy groaned. “Use sodium pentothal on her. We don’t have months.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Dan Sorenson drove Maddy past the dozen or so parked cars lining the driveway of Cal Simpson’s house. Since Dan was not going to park, he could drive her right up to the door.

  “You okay?” Dan asked Maddy who was in the back.

  “I’m fine, Dan,” she replied. She then said, “Tony, call Dan and let us know if the new necklace is working.”

  The transmitter to Conrad’s van was in the necklace she was wearing. They had used a different one for her previous ‘dates’ and decided it was time for a change.

  Dan’s phone rang and he answered it. He exchanged a couple of words with Carvelli, hung up and told Maddy it was working loud and clear.

  Dan stopped the Town Car at the front of the big house and before he could get out to open Maddy’s door, Aidan Walsh was there.

  “I’ll call up when I’m ready to be picked up,” Maddy said to Sorenson so Aidan could hear her.

  “Very good, ma’am,” Sorenson replied.

  “Not staying long?” Aidan asked her as he escorted her to the front door.

  “Where’s the hired help?” Maddy asked ignoring the question.

  “Small party,” Aidan replied.

  Aidan led her through the house and onto the patio area. They found Cal making his way through the small crowd. There were about twenty people in attendance. A very small group for a party of Cal’s.

  A few seconds after arriving on the patio, Cal noticed her. While he walked toward her, Maddy looked around and recognized several people in attendance. Most of them she knew from pictures she had recently seen.

  From the recordings of Cal’s phone calls they had acquired a few first names. These were people he either talked to or referred to during these recorded conversations. Carvelli’s group then looked up first names with people who attended the Fourth of July party and made an educated guess as to who they were. Maddy, with the help of her transmitter necklace, was going to try to confirm this today.

  “Hello,” Cal said as he kissed her cheek and handed her a glass of a cheap chardonnay.

  “Hi,” Maddy replied. She took a sip of the wine and remarked, “You shouldn’t be so cheap with your guests, especially me. At least it’s cold.”

  Ignoring her remark even though it pricked his ego, Cal gently took her arm and said, “Let me show you off, I mean, around.”

  Maddy stopped, turned to him and firmly said, “I’m not a trophy, Cal and I won’t be treated like one.”

  In the van with Marc, Carvelli and Conrad Hilton listening along, Paxton said, “Attagirl. Kick him right in his ego.”

  “I’m sorry. Of course you’re not. That was a slip of the tongue. I meant to say let me show you around.”

  Maddy gave him a skeptical look then looped her left arm through his right.

  For the next thirty to forty minutes Cal introduced her to each of his guests. To be sure the recording equipment in the van picked up each person’s name clearly, Maddy repeated it when Cal introduced her.

  Toward the end of the introduction tour, they came up to two men standing a bit off by themselves. Cal had been delayed by a woman Maddy recognized as a U.S. Senator. While Maddy waited for Cal she could overhear the two men talking.

  “Cal will take care of it. He hasn’t let us down yet, has he?” Maddy heard the shorter man facing her say.

  “Ssssh, keep your voice down,” the second man said.

  Ignoring the admonition, the first man said, “The funding Bill is a done deal. Hell, the stock is already up over twenty percent. Relax.”

  “Yeah, I know. When is the next test?”

  “Next week,” the shorter one said. “By then the stock should be up another ten to fifteen percent, easy. Probably more.”

  At that
moment, Cal rejoined Maddy and the two of them stepped over to the men on whom Maddy had been eavesdropping. Cal introduced them and Maddy was a bit impressed. The first one, the taller of the two, was Senator Christian Howell. He had been standing with his back to her but when he turned around she recognized him instantly. A potential presidential candidate.

  Howell was pleasant and polite. Maddy could tell he was used to drawing attention to himself and handled it smoothly. In fact, with his ego being what it is, Howell believed Maddy was more smitten with him than he could be with her.

  The second man, the one with the louder, looser mouth was a congressman from Minnesota; Del Peterson. Conrad had recorded several calls between Cal and the congressman and Maddy recognized the name immediately. She could also tell he had been drinking a little too much. This likely accounted for his loquaciousness. It also caused him to be much too friendly toward Maddy.

  Cal and Maddy chatted with the two men for a few minutes. All the while Del Peterson held onto her hand and stood a little too close. She finally broke away and they moved on.

  “Is he always like that or is it because he had too much to drink?” Maddy quietly asked Cal.

  “He’s always like that because he drinks too much,” Cal replied. “He’s actually not a bad guy. He’s useful but a little weak. I don’t know how his wife puts up with him.”

  Maddy laughed, then said, “You’re a fine one to talk about what wives put up with.”

  Cal smiled and said, “I guess that was a little hypocritical.”

  Aidan Walsh was walking toward them obviously to talk to his boss. Cal excused himself and stepped away from Maddy to listen to Aidan. While he did this, Maddy took her phone from her purse, looked at it then put it to her ear.

  As Cal and Aidan conversed Maddy turned so the camera lens on the phone was pointed at them. She took almost ten shots of what she hoped were pictures of Aidan. She replaced the phone and Cal rejoined her.

  “What was the call about?” he asked.

  “I have a date tonight,” Maddy breezily told him as if it was no big deal.

  “Oh?” Cal asked. “With whom?”

  “Oh, what?” Maddy replied. “Relax. He’s an old friend. He’s married, I know his wife. He’s in town and we’re getting together for a very casual dinner.”