Vengeance Is Personal (A Colton James Novel, Book 2)

by Thomas DePrima

"I assume he hasn't called to tell you he's found either your precious possessions or the thieves."

  "Nope. I haven't heard a word. Have you made any progress?"

  "As a matter of fact I have. I sent a copy of my final report to Saul Fodor a few hours ago. He asked me to stop out here and fill you in."

  "Your final report?"

  "I've located all the stolen items."

  Georgie, who had been looking a bit depressed, lit up with excitement. "You're serious. You got my stuff back?"

  "I know where it is and reported that to Saul. He has his people working with the local authorities to get a search warrant from a magistrate so the police can move in and recover the stash."

  "And it's all there?"

  "We can't know if everything is there until an inventory can be done. But I know most of it's there, and I have no reason to believe it's not all there."

  "That's great news, Colt. You've made my day. How soon can I get it back?"

  "That'll be up to the police and the D.A. Sometimes they like to hang onto stolen merchandise until the court case is settled."

  "Well, just knowing I'm going to get it all back at some point is enough for now," he said with a huge grin. "It's the cocktail hour. Come on inside and have a drink. I feel like celebrating."

  ~

  "Name your poison," Georgie said as he led the way into his study and opened up a wall to reveal enough alcoholic beverages to stock a bar. "I've got whiskey, wine, and beer."

  "I enjoy wine with my dinner when I'm out with my girl, but most of the time I'm just a beer man."

  Georgie looked at me and smiled. "That's why I like you so much, Colt. You're a lot like me. I don't enjoy playing the role of upper crust sophisticate. And fortunately I don't have to most of the time because most country western singers and songwriters are just plain folks." Georgie turned and opened a door that turned out to be a refrigerator. "Bud okay?" he asked as he reached into the box.

  "My favorite, if it's in a bottle."

  "I only drink bottled beer," he said as he returned to where I was standing, handed me a bottle, and gestured towards a couple of comfortable-looking chairs. As we sat down, he said, "Some guys tell me they can't tell the difference. And that might be true when the beer is just out of the fridge and icy cold. But if you're not swilling it down in under a minute, the beer is going to warm a bit. And when it does, that's when you can taste the difference between the same brand in a bottle and a can."

  Georgie stopped talking long enough to open his beer and take a sip while I did the same.

  "So tell me, Colt. How did you, working alone, beat the cops at finding the crooks and my stuff?"

  "Technology. I used to be a computer guru, Georgie. While the local PD guys are out searching for clues, I'm on the computer searching for clues."

  "So you're saying you solved this case simply by using your computer?"

  "There's nothing simple about it. The crooks are getting smarter every year, but technology is advancing even faster. Look at the terrorist bombing at the Boston Marathon. Within hours they had identified the suspects by using technology. They had actual video images of the bombers walking along the streets with heavy backpacks and then later images where the bombers had already passed the spots where the bombs were planted. But they no longer had the backpacks in the later images.

  "The cops were able to identify the perps and begin the manhunt before the bombers could disappear back home to Chechnya. I'm not saying we don't need the crime investigation folks. They collect the evidence that frequently help us computer geeks find the bad guys, and they provide the evidence needed in court for a conviction. It's a partnership between legwork and computer work."

  "Does Danners know you solved the case?"

  "If he doesn't, he will soon."

  "I'd like to see his face when he learns. He was pretty rude to you."

  "I'd like to see that as well."

  "Uh, tell me, Colt. What happens if something is missing from the stuff that's recovered?"

  "Then I go back to work and find it. The insurance company is responsible to recover everything you insured."

  "And what happens if the missing item isn't on the list of insured items?"

  "Then the insurance company isn't obligated to find it. But I make every effort to recover everything."

  "I know you also work for the FBI part time. Do you have to tell them everything you learn?"

  I hesitated before answering. It seemed like Georgie wanted to ask me something that might be illegal, or borderline legal, without getting his ass caught in a wringer.

  "I don't lie to the Bureau. If they ask a question, I answer it. But if they don't ask, I'm not obligated to offer anything about my private life. I won't cover up a crime though, and since I'm not a licensed private investigator, a priest, or a lawyer, I can't claim something was privileged information."

  "But you don't have to report everything you learn?"

  "No. What are you getting at Georgie?"

  "Uh, there's something missing that isn't on the list of insured items. I didn't realize it until the police had finished in here and left."

  "A personal item?"

  "Uh, yeah."

  "Not an award or memorabilia?"

  "No."

  "Something you don't want to report to the police as being missing?"

  "Uh, that could have— complications."

  "It's not drugs, is it?"

  "Drugs? No way. Only dopes use dope."

  I stopped probing and stared at him. Either he was going to tell me or he wasn't.

  Finally, Georgie sighed and said, "I guess I should wait until the police pick up my stuff and I'm able to check through it for the item."

  As if that was its cue, the phone on his desk rang. Georgie looked at it for second, then picked it up. He answered, listened for a second, then asked the caller to hold on while he pressed the speaker button.

  "Would you repeat that please?"

  "This is Lt. Danners. I'm happy to report that through the hard work of my team and the Memphis PD, we've recovered all of the stolen items."

  "That's wonderful, Lieutenant. How soon can I get them back?"

  "That will be up to the captain and the DA. It's evidence in the continuing investigation."

  "Did you catch the thieves?"

  "I'm sorry to say they've eluded us so far. But we've identified all of them, and it's only a matter of time before they're caught."

  "I'm delighted by your fast work, Lieutenant. Can I at least see the recovered items?"

  "Of course, sir. But it appears the thieves took special care not to damage anything."

  "How soon can I see for myself?"

  "If you'll come to the station in an hour, everything will be in the recovered-property room. My people are loading it into a truck now."

  "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll be there in an hour."

  After he hung up, Georgie looked at me. "Well, I guess I'll know in an hour if the item I'm concerned about is there."

  "I don't know what it is, but I'd be willing to wager it won't be."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "This robbery just doesn't feel right. The crooks clean out your house, store the stuff in a storage locker in town, and then bug out? Something isn't right."

  "They probably just wanted time for things to cool down so they could transport it without worry about roadblocks."

  "If they intended to transport the stolen goods, they could have done that last night. They got away clean. Your people were all down for the count, and they had hours before you returned. In that time they could have been five hundred miles away, well beyond any roadblocks for a simple robbery where no one was injured or killed. Something isn't right. Or as some would say up in New York— something isn't kosher. This item that you're missing— was it hidden from view?"

  "Yes."

  "Very well hidden?"

  "I believed so."

  "How many people knew you kept it here?" />
  "I hadn't told anyone I had it here."

  "But people knew you had it?"

  "Just a couple— two."

  I took a long pull on my beer and drained the bottle. "And do you trust them?"

  "I'd trust them with my life."

  "But would you trust them with your wallet?"

  Georgie stared at me for a few seconds before answering. "That's a strange question to ask, Colt."

  "Money does strange things to people. Especially if it's a lot of money. I've known people I would trust with my life and every penny I have. But I've also known people I would trust with my life only if they had nothing to gain by my death. And I sure wouldn't ask the latter group to hold ten grand for me. Are we talking about that much?"

  "More. A lot more. But I would trust either of these people with my wallet."

  "Well, until I know what we're talking about, I can't speculate further."

  "Let's wait until I have a chance to see what they recovered. Do you want to go with me?"

  "No, I imagine Danners is pretty upset with me right now. But it's okay with me if you mention I had notified you earlier that I'd tracked down the stolen items but that we'd have to wait until a search warrant was issued and served before entry to the storage locker was possible."

  Georgie smiled. "I think I'll just play along if he wants to take credit for finding my stuff. I still have to live here after you return to New York."

  "I understand, and that's probably a wise position." Standing up I said, "Georgie, thanks for your hospitality. I'm glad I was able to find your insured items so quickly, and I hope it's all there, but if any of the insured items are missing, give me a call right away. I'm planning to head home tonight."

  "But what about the, uh, extra item?"

  "We don't even know for sure that's not with the recovered items, although I'm reasonably certain it isn't. Give me a call if you want me to assist in its recovery, should it be missing."

  "I will, Colt. I definitely want you to find it if it's not with my other stuff."

  "Okay, I'll hang around until you know for sure whether it's with the recovered items or not. But if it is still missing, be prepared to be completely open with me. I'll have to know exactly what I'm looking for."

  "You got it, buddy."

  As I drove back to my hotel, I thought about the missing item that hadn't been insured. Two people whom Georgie would trust with his life knew of it. If it was as well hidden as he suggested, then perhaps he shouldn't be trusting both of them. The known facts indicated that someone with intimate knowledge of the memorabilia, security, and staff had been involved in planning the robbery. Was the robbery of the memorabilia only intended to mask the theft of the uninsured item? It seemed likely at this point.

  I really wanted to head home, but Saul wanted me here for as long as Georgie needed me around, and I owed Saul a lot. It was dinnertime, so after parking the rental car I walked the two blocks to the same restaurant where I'd gotten the great prime rib dinner the night before. I wasn't disappointed as I ate my way through the most tender and flavorful New York Strip steak I'd enjoyed in some time and washed it down with a couple of bottles of my favorite beer.

  I'd intended to work on tracking down the mastermind behind the robbery when I got back to the hotel, but I just didn't have the energy. It had been a long day, so I took a hot shower and went to bed.

  ~ ~ ~

  I awoke early the next morning and, after dressing, walked to the breakfast buffet where I was able to enjoy a large blueberry muffin and two cups of coffee before returning to my room to work.

  I was curious to learn what Georgie was so reluctant to talk about, so I activated the gizmo and began watching the perps as they cleaned out his study. I zoomed in on every article removed from the room, but I never saw anything taken that appeared not to be memorabilia or an award, nor did I see anyone open any special hiding places such as a hidden drawer or door. I figured I must have missed it, so I went back and started over. But again I failed to see anything out of the ordinary taken during the robbery. And by saying ordinary, I didn't mean to disparage Georgie's awards or memorabilia. I simply meant that items I would have expected to be removed seemed to have been the only things stolen.

  I had been so thorough that I figured a third pass would be a waste of time. It was already coming up on ten o'clock, and I hadn't yet tried to backtrack with the robbery team's leader to see if I could identify any clandestine meetings with someone who might be from Georgie's present or past.

  I had just begun my search when my cell rang and announced I was receiving a call from Georgie. I had been expecting to hear from him.

  "Hi, Georgie."

  "Morning, Colt. Uh, could you swing by the house this morning— if you're not too busy, that is."

  "Sure. I'm at my hotel. Is now a good time?"

  "Yeah, that would be great."

  "Is this in reference to what we discussed yesterday?"

  "Uh, yeah. But I don't want to talk about it on the phone."

  "Okay, Georgie. I should be there in about thirty minutes."

  "Thanks, Colt."

  The guard at the gate waved me through without my having to stop, and the temporary housekeeper was standing with the front door open when I pulled up. She escorted me to Georgie's study, knocked once, then opened the door without waiting for a response. She pulled the door closed behind me after I entered the large room.

  Georgie looked terrible. It appeared that he hadn't slept all night. His agitation seemed ten times higher than when he thought just his awards and memorabilia had been stolen. He came out from behind his desk and grabbed my hand to shake it.

  "Thanks for coming, Colt. The item we discussed yesterday wasn't among the other items at the police property room."

  "Was everything else there?"

  "It seemed to be."

  "So the robbery might simply have been to cover up the theft of the still missing item?"

  "Maybe."

  "And you want me to find it without telling anyone what I'm searching for?"

  "Uh, yeah."

  "So this is outside my arrangement with Saul and the insurance company?"

  "Uh, yeah. They can't know a thing about it. Nobody but us can know anything about it."

  "Okay. My fee is a standard ten percent for recoveries."

  "Ten percent?"

  "That's the industry standard percentage."

  "Uh, okay."

  "So, what is it exactly that I'm to look for?"

  "It's a journal. It looks sort of like a standard day planner. It's about six inches wide by nine inches high with a rich, brown leather cover, and the edges of the pages have like a gold look when the book is closed."

  "Okay. And where was it kept?"

  "I'll show you," he said as he moved towards his large desk. "From behind the desk, you open the center drawer at least two inches but not more than four, like this, then open the bottom right drawer at least three inches but not more than five, like this, then push this little brown circle here." He had opened the drawers as a demonstration, then pointed to something that looked like it was only part of the right-hand edge of the desk. "It looks like it's just part of the fancy woodcarving, but it's actually a release button. But the door won't open if the drawers aren't in position." When he pressed it, a panel popped open on the side of the desk.

  "That's a pretty fancy arrangement, Georgie."

  "I had it custom built in Germany to my specs by an old woodcarver who used to build custom clocks. I'm not talking about little cuckoo clocks, but big clocks, like you see in people's hallways."

  "Okay. Did you have it built just to hide the book?"

  "Yeah."

  "So you never told anyone about the secret panel that opens?"

  "Just my wife, my son, and my daughter. They had to know about it in case something happened to me. But they don't know about the book. The only ones who know about the book are my accountant and my show manager."

&nb
sp; "I understand. So the book is missing, and you want it back."

  "I need it back. It has information vital to my future."

  "In what way?"

  "It contains information regarding my financial holdings that represent my retirement funds."

  "And this book is the only way to reference those holdings?"

  "Uh, yeah."

  "And if someone else were to get their hands on the information, could they steal your funds?"

  "It's possible, but it would be difficult. First of all, it's written in my own private encryption code. Second, they'd have difficulty moving the funds and investments without my signature."

  "So can't you just work up a new book?"

  "No, that would be impossible. There are a lot of numbered accounts, special pass codes, and even identity cards that are needed to access the funds."

  "So what's the value of the investments recorded in this book, Georgie?"

  "Roughly seven hundred fifty million dollars."

  I couldn't stop myself from coughing, but it was only one cough as I said, "Did you mean to say seven hundred fifty million dollars? As in three quarters of a billion dollars?"

  * * *

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Uh, yeah. So you can see why I'm so distraught."

  "Uh, yeah, I can certainly understand that. At my usual rate, my fee for the recovery would be seventy-five million, but that's excessive. Let's say that if I recover your secret book, a special rate of one percent would be adequate."

  "Uh, that's more than generous, but— I can't pay you the seven and a half million."

  "It would only be owed if I recover your book."

  "Even if you recover the book, I can't pay you."

  "But you'll have your three quarters of a billion dollars back."

  "You don't understand. The government doesn't know about the money."

  "Hmmm, that does complicate things. How did you amass three quarters of a billion dollars without the government knowing about it?"

  "You said you don't have to tell the FBI about everything you learn unless they specifically ask, right?"

  I nodded.

  "The money is from a lifetime of overseas tours and sales of my music. Using a variety of methods, I was able to funnel it through legitimate foreign corporations in countries where the tax rates are far more favorable than here, and it was deposited into special accounts that aren't in my name. A lot of the money is in cash and gold in special deposit boxes but most is invested in blue chip companies. I intended to retire overseas one day and renounce my American citizenship so I wouldn't have to pay taxes on the money I earned outside the U.S. once I started accessing it in my retirement. You're not going to tell anyone, right?"