“Do we want to tip our hand on what we have on Davenport?”
“I see no reason not to. None of it applies to our target, so we aren’t letting anything slip.” Reynolds cracked her knuckles and gave Sands a dark look. “Shoot me the warrants before you present them.”
Sands nodded. “Will do. Anything else?”
“Reach out to the team that went down to look at the car, and let them know to keep us in the loop. If this wasn’t an accident, it could mean that someone found out about our investigation.”
“How? Tony?”
“That’s a possibility. Or…loose lips.”
Sands rose, his face grim. “Let’s hope it was accidental.”
“Anything’s possible. But don’t bet the farm on it.”
“I won’t.”
Sands left, leaving Reynolds to consider how one of her most important cases had just come unraveled. The loss of Tony wasn’t a body blow – his contribution had so far yielded nothing of value – but if it wasn’t an accident, the explosion signaled that an important line had been crossed.
And Reynolds had been on the job far too long to believe in accidents.
She shook her head and eyed her coffee cup, debating whether to have a sixth cup of the day. Her desire for caffeine won out, and she stood, mentally calculating how long it would take to get the warrants. It was already three o’clock. Allowing for time to generate them and then to review the language and lay out the bones of the case for the judge so he would stamp them…not until tomorrow.
Which would probably be fine, she reasoned.
At least, she hoped so. Her feeling of the case slipping away from her nagged her all the way down the hall. She couldn’t shake the sense that she was missing something. And in her line of work, missing something could botch a perfectly structured case or, worse, get people killed.
Chapter 23
Emeryville, California
Adam and Leah hunched in front of her monitor, going through the files he’d downloaded from Richard’s laptop. The investors were listed on one of the spreadsheets, and the portfolio companies on another, along with the amounts invested in each, as well as the valuation amount at the time of the injection, and current value.
Adam tapped the screen with his forefinger. “Wow. Look at how pregnant he is with these two companies, Ravstar and Terra Megatrends. Based on the current valuations, he’s got a pair of massive home runs.”
“It’s also interesting that most of his investment capital has come from one large source, with the rest relatively small percentage interests.” Leah looked to Adam. “Is that typical?”
“No. It’s actually pretty unusual. Most of the time, the institutional investors like to spread their bets across a range of firms, not parking too much in any one.”
“So is this a red flag of some sort?”
“Not necessarily. It could be. Or not. Although…based on what you said, he might be laundering money?”
“That’s the impression I got from the DA.”
“Then I would take a hard look at that big investor and at his top portfolio holdings. The rest look like clutter when you see the size of those.”
Leah jotted down the names of the companies and continued scanning the files. When she was done with the company folder, she moved to his personal spreadsheets, which were largely the originals of the hard copies she already had. She was closing one and hovering her mouse over the next when another folder caught her eye, one marked Insurance. She double clicked on it and found a spreadsheet with a list of names, ages, investment amounts, and multimillion-dollar figures. At the far right were dates with dollar amounts beside them. Only a third of the columns had dates; the rest were blank.
“What do you make of this?” she asked Adam.
He perused the file for thirty seconds, his brow knitted. “Looks like insurance policies to me. These would be the amounts of the payouts,” he said, pointing to the seven-figure columns. “And I’d guess these are the sales dates and prices.”
“I don’t understand. He was selling insurance?”
Adam shook his head. “No. See the investment line? No, looks like he might have been buying insurance. The only problem is that it’s illegal to take out insurance on somebody else.”
“Then why…?”
“Because if you don’t get caught, you can age the policies, and after the two-year fraud statute of limitations in the policies expires, sell them for huge profits. See this one, for example? He invested $140K. And then here it looks like he sold it for $800K.”
“These are life insurance policies?”
“That’s my guess. There’s a good secondary market for them. But the law is very specific. You can’t take out insurance on your neighbor’s house – because of the temptation to then burn it down. You can’t do it on anybody but yourself for the same reason.”
“Why would he risk doing something like this?” Leah whispered.
“Look at the dates of the first ones. Didn’t we learn he was unemployed for a year when he was trying to raise his fund?”
Leah nodded slowly. “Yes. So this was how he made ends meet?”
Adam straightened. “It’s just a spreadsheet. You don’t have any proof he actually did it. To prove it you’d need the policies and to show money flowing from his accounts to the insured, or to the insurance companies.”
Leah eyed the screen. The dates corresponded to when Heather was already with Richard.
Was that why she didn’t want a PI involved? Or did it get worse?
“I’ll continue sorting the files, and then I’m going to research the portfolio companies,” she said. “Can I ask you to do the same for the investors? I wouldn’t even know where to start on those…”
Adam smiled. “Sounds like another negotiation. Dinner Friday night?”
Leah rolled her eyes. “Is every interaction going to be like this? A transaction?”
“I was kidding. I mean, I’d love to have dinner again, and I am free Friday, but I’ll still help you with your investigation, no strings attached. Just let me know when you want to grab a bite again. That’s the last you’ll hear of it from me.” He glanced at the screen. “You want to print out the investor spreadsheet and I’ll see what I can come up with?”
Leah felt bad about her response to Adam, but her mind wasn’t on socializing at the moment. “I’m sorry, Adam. I’m just focused on peeling this onion. Once I’ve made some progress, I’ll absolutely take you up on the offer. But it may not be this Friday.” She switched the screen to the investor spreadsheet and pressed print. “It’ll be at the printer by the time you get there.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know if I find anything out,” he said, dropping the dinner subject. He left her cubicle, and she sighed softly. Adam was a great guy and everything she could want in a boyfriend – had she been looking for one. But right now she wasn’t. She was still hung up on Uriel, even though it was unrealistic and she hadn’t talked to him in weeks. She would have to find a way to let Adam down easy, or at least be honest with him: she had no idea what she was doing or what she wanted, and it would likely be a while before she was able to figure it out.
That settled in her mind, she turned to the pair of portfolio companies that were the stars of Richard’s fund, and began her research. She was immediately able to find a host of press releases and public findings for Ravstar on the company’s elaborately designed website, and read with interest the descriptions of its forthcoming product. The stock had been languishing for months, but of late had almost doubled in price, which had resulted in an increase of coverage and the initiation of several analysts following it. She watched an interview with the president, Patrick Reagan, on YouTube, and frowned at his bombastic delivery style and clipped manner of speaking. When it was over, she read two magazine interviews with him that were basic regurgitations of the talking points he’d used on the video, and she lost interest and switched to the second company.
Finding anything
on Terra Megatrends proved almost impossible. Other than an address and a phone number in Marin, the company might as well not have existed. There was nothing online about it, no description of the products, not even a website, which for a technology company was unheard of. She did a Dun & Bradstreet search, and all it had was the same information, adding that it was a privately held corporation – nothing more.
Leah checked her watch and saw that it was almost quitting time, so the roads to Marin would be at a standstill for hours if they were anything like those in the East Bay. Her curiosity was now piqued, and she decided to drive there tomorrow. She was dreading the Friday morning staff meeting with Monte and the other reporters, and just the thought of it reminded her of how little time she’d invested in the stories he’d suggested to her. She closed the file on Richard and resolved to spend the evening working on them, her guilt at having invested so much time on Heather’s matter growing by the hour.
Her cell trilled from her purse, and she retrieved it and answered just before it went to voice mail. It was Heather.
“Did you hear?” she asked, sounding out of breath.
“Hear what?”
“About the explosion at Richard’s office.”
Leah’s eyes roamed the cubicle as she processed Heather’s words. “His office exploded?”
“No, no. His car blew up in the parking lot. It’s horrible, Leah. One of his associates was killed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Richard called to tell me what happened so I wouldn’t have to hear about it on the news.”
“Oh, my God, Heather. But he’s all right?”
“He sounded pretty shaken. But yes, he’s fine…at least, I think so.”
“What?” Leah demanded, alarmed by her tone.
“It’s…it’s just that I haven’t heard from him since. I’ve been trying to call, but it keeps going to voice mail.”
“He’s probably busy with the police.”
Heather paused. “Maybe. But when I called the office line, the receptionist told me he’d left for the day. He didn’t come home that I know of. I was out for an hour, but besides that I’ve been here all afternoon.”
“I’m sure he’ll turn up. Do they know what caused the explosion?”
“I just know what I saw on TV a few minutes ago – that it’s being investigated. That’s all.”
“Wow, Heather. I’m sorry,” Leah said, her mind churning at the news.
“He loved that damned Porsche. It was his dream car,” she said. Leah noted that she hadn’t expressed the same horror at the idea of the associate losing his life.
“Let me know if I can do anything for you,” Leah said. “I’m going to be working late tonight, so feel free to call.”
“I…it feels like everything’s falling apart, Leah. Imploding, you know? I mean, a car blowing up at Sand Hill? That’s never happened. Ever.”
Leah considered confronting Heather about the DA’s account of her husband’s connections, as well as the insurance scam, but she hesitated. This wasn’t the right time, and she wanted to be able to read her body language in person. Lying was always easier over the phone, and Leah made it a point to do her interviews one-on-one for that reason. It was a holdover from her journalism school days, when her mentor had drilled the point home again and again: often it wasn’t what the person being interviewed said, but how they said it and how they reacted to the questions that contained the most valuable information.
After another couple of minutes reassuring Heather, Leah hung up and navigated to the online news feed to scan it for information on the explosion, her best intentions to spend the evening on Monte’s stories forgotten.
Chapter 24
Hangzhou, China
A trio of military vehicles approached one of the factories that sprawled across the industrial zone, their parking lots full of new Chinese vehicles. Relative prosperity had blossomed in the area since it had been named a manufacturing center, and the province had flourished as companies had rushed to stake a claim in the burgeoning region. The buildings were mostly new, massive complexes devoted to everything from textiles to refrigeration to high tech. The air had become moderately polluted, but much of the haze was blown inland by sea breezes.
The vehicles, a staff car and two SUVs, stopped at a security gate. After a brief discussion with the guard, the barrier lifted and the mini convoy rolled toward the building entrance, where two men in lab coats were waiting in the shade of a jutting overhang, all steel and glass angles.
The car parked in a space with a reserved sign, and the SUVs stopped behind it. Armed soldiers piled from the trucks as an older man wearing the uniform of a general in the People’s Army climbed from the backseat of the staff car and walked to the waiting staff.
“General,” the shorter of the pair beneath the overhang said in greeting, “welcome. It is a great honor to have you come and inspect our progress.”
“I thought it would be appropriate to see it in person, Dr. Lee,” the general said, shaking the doctor’s hand. “With the amount we have invested in this facility, I wanted to see it for myself.”
“I think you will be pleased,” Dr. Lee said. “This is my associate, Wang Kim. Wang, General Chin.”
Wang shook the general’s hand, and then the doctor motioned to the entrance. “Come. We’re in the process of completing one of the systems today.”
The trio walked to the door, and Lee stood in front of an optical scanner for a moment. A faint light grazed his right eye, and after the retinal signature was confirmed, two electronically controlled bolts opened and the pair of bulletproof glass slabs slid to the side on oiled tracks.
The doctor led them along an unmarked corridor to a warehouse area stacked with pallets and crates. There were only a few workers in evidence, all wearing gray coveralls and hard hats. At the far side of the space stood another optical scanner, and Lee repeated the process of verifying his identity. When the lock buzzed, he pulled it open and motioned for the general to enter. Chin brushed by him, and Wang remained in the warehouse while Lee guided the military man toward a security checkpoint complete with X-ray scanner and metal detector.
Lee addressed the armed guards by the scanner. “We won’t need to use this on the general. I can vouch for him,” the doctor said, and both men grinned nervously and bowed their heads toward Chin.
The doctor and general ran the security gauntlet and found themselves in a cavernous space filled with technicians in lab coats, putting the finishing touches on electrical components. In the center of the space, on a conveyor, sat the gleaming metal housing of a satellite.
“This one should be ready for deployment by the end of the week,” Lee said, his voice filled with pride. “Everything has been checked and double-checked. It can be armed in a variety of ways based on your instructions: laser, pulse energy, missile guidance. The modules are custom built depending on the application and the generation of satellite in assembly. This is the latest in the Mao Ten line. A third of the size of the original, with half the weight and twice the payload and working life.”
Lee walked the general around the satellite, discussing the finer points of the design and taking him through the manufacturing process of the various systems. The general asked informed, probing questions about fault tolerances and mean time between failure rates of the microprocessors in use, and ultimately the discussion turned to communications.
“We’re using the very latest in encryption, General. A variation of the same used by the American NSA. Unhackable, so the communications are secure.”
“We have learned that the NSA cracked our last generation,” the general said with a frown. “They have an entire group devoted to nothing else.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the challenges we face. But we have been able to obtain their latest code, which by all estimates would take them five years to decrypt if they don’t have the matching key. It is an impressive achievement we will use for our own purposes. I
can only imagine the expressions on their technicians’ faces when they run up against their own creation modified for our use.”
“There’s no way for them to hack it?”
“None. We have absolute confidence in the algorithms and code. Even with their computing power, it is nearly impossible.”
“That was the Achilles’ heel of our last effort, as you know,” the general said.
“Of course. Which is why we have taken great pains to ensure that never happens again.”
The tour continued for another twenty minutes, and then the general thanked Lee and they returned to the entrance, where the soldiers had formed a protective cordon. They shook hands and the military man marched to his vehicle, the soldiers with their weapons at the ready.
Lee watched the procession drive back to the access gate, proud of how the inspection had gone. He was sure from the general’s reactions that he would be granted the additional funding he’d requested for upgrading test equipment and adding qualified staff, which in turn would ensure that Lee would be promoted at the appropriate time and chartered with directing the entire division, rather than just the factory he was currently overseeing.
The vehicles disappeared, and Lee smiled to himself. Another crisis averted, and victory clutched from the jaws of adversity. Perhaps tonight he would celebrate with his wife and open one of the expensive bottles of French Bordeaux he allowed himself each year.
After this, he’d more than earned it.
Chapter 25
Novato, California
Leah took the freeway exit her navigation system indicated and followed the direction until she arrived at an industrial park filled with two-story buildings. Her target, Terra Megatrends, turned out to be a black glass structure at the far end of the park, with no signage other than an address number. She parked in the lot and made her way to the entrance, where she found a pair of locked glass entry doors with an intercom to one side. She depressed the button and waited. Thirty seconds later the door lock buzzed, and she pulled one of the panels open and stepped into a sterile lobby.
A Girl Betrayed (A Leah Mason suspense thriller Book 2) Page 13