“Fine. Not like I’m going anywhere.”
Richard gave her a warm smile. “See you later,” he said.
“Plan on it,” she replied, doing her best to return the smile. She had every intention of calling him within an hour. Just as soon as he could get away from Seth and have some privacy. Kennedy could take another powder — Seth had brought Silver’s extra laptop computer from the office; she was sure her daughter could find a game or two online after her extended period cold turkey.
She closed her eyes and sighed. There was so much to think about. And her head felt like she’d been hit between the eyes with a brick. Which wasn’t far from the truth.
When Brett showed up that evening, he was positively glowing. The ache in Silver’s head had subsided to a dull throbbing, but she did her best to share in the celebratory mood. Brett, Seth and Richard stood like supplicants at the foot of her bed while Brett filled her in on the latest.
“Congratulations, Silver. This is an amazing achievement. I’m sure you’ll regale us all with the exact methodology you used to single-handedly capture New York’s most elusive serial killer in your written report, but for now, may I just say that speaking for myself as well as the Bureau, we’re all extremely proud of you.” Brett smiled. “And clearing two off the books in one fell swoop — a kidnapping as well as a serial…that’s some kind of superhero stuff we’re talking.”
“Yes, well, I got lucky. Right place, right time,” Silver said, uncomfortable with the effusive praise.
“Yeah. I’ll say,” Brett continued. “Lucky, huh? Luck took you straight to the perp’s house while the rest of the task force was chasing windmills? Somehow I think there’s more to it than that.”
“The trick is to find something that seems really difficult and then make it look easy,” Silver explained.
“I’ll have to remember that. Oh, and on another Silver Cassidy note, the investigation into the man who tried to kill you has come to a head. We know all the details now and have a suspect in custody.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it. I’m going to try to make it into work tomorrow, at least for a few hours. I understand Howard is refusing to talk to anyone but me?” Silver gave Seth a sidelong glance.
Brett nodded. “That’s correct. He admitted to the killings, but he said that he’ll make a full confession to you, and only you. Normally I’d say that you should take a week off, but if you can come in without putting yourself in jeopardy and take his statement that would help us wrap this up.”
“Let’s plan on ten tomorrow morning. I’m hoping I can get a ride to my flat from someone,” she gave Richard a pointed look, “and then once Kennedy is taken care of, I’ll come in and do the interview. One thing, though. He mentioned seven victims. Not six. Has he said anything to you about that?”
“No, he didn’t,” Seth said. “He just made a statement acknowledging that he was responsible for the killings, beginning with the Boca Raton financial advisor, giving just enough detail to confirm that he was telling the truth. Also, he told us where in his house to find the murder weapons. He wasn’t trying to hide any of it. It’s just very, very strange…”
“Then let’s plan on tomorrow, and you can fill me in on the hit attempt on me once I’m done with our boy. Is it safe to assume that I’m no longer in danger?” Silver asked, beginning to visibly tire.
“You’re out of danger,” Brett assured her, “but just in case, I’m stationing an agent on the ward floor while you’re here.”
“Good to hear. Guess I won’t need to sleep with my Glock as a pillow anymore…” She shifted her gaze to Richard. “Thanks for coming. I’ll live, and I’ll see everyone tomorrow. Richard, can I have a moment?”
Brett and Seth took the hint and discreetly exited the room, leaving Richard standing by the foot of her bed.
“Are you going to stay all the way over there?” Silver asked, and he edged over to the bedside, near the vital signs monitors.
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re okay,” Richard started, but she shushed him.
“We don’t have much time until Kennedy comes out, so let’s make the most of it. I had a lot of time to think while I was holed up at home, and I want you to know that what happened between us was one of the best experiences of my life. I don’t know that it means anything, or what it could lead to, but I want you to know that I’d like to find out, if you’re game.” Silver’s eyes searched his expression.
Richard smiled and moved closer, taking her hand. “After everything that happened, I wasn’t even sure you remembered it all. But the feeling’s mutual. Very mutual.” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.
The bathroom door opened, and Kennedy stepped out, hair dripping, wearing a clean set of clothes.
“Whoa,” she exclaimed.
Richard stepped away from the bed with a guilty look, but Silver squeezed his hand.
“So when did all this happen? Nobody tells me anything.”
“Something about you being kidnapped. Out of the loop,” Silver replied.
Richard seemed to grapple for something to say. Kennedy set her hygiene bag down on the chair by the bathroom and approached the bed, then took Richard’s hand and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.
“Are you my new daddy? I want a pony for Christmas. And a hundred bucks for games to keep me from going stir-crazy while I’m here in the hospital,” she cooed in her most angelic voice.
Richard looked like a deer caught in oncoming headlights. Silver threw Kennedy a look.
“She’s fu- she’s messing with you, Richard. She’s not five years old, or retarded. Although sometimes I have my doubts…”
Kennedy smiled sweetly. “I thought you said you didn’t think he was cute?”
“I never said tha-”
“Well, I’m just a kid, so what do I know about all this? You two carry on. I’ll try to dry my hair with paper towels in the bathroom.” Kennedy about-faced and returned to the door, swinging it open after offering a mischievous smile.
“Did I mention my kid is Satan’s spawn sometimes?”
“You left that out.”
“I hope it doesn’t scare you off. It would scare the hell out of me.”
“I don’t scare easily.”
“She’s actually not a bad kid. Just too smart for her own good.”
“I know the kind,” Richard said, then leaned over and kissed Silver again.
For a few moments, everything was right in the world.
The next morning, Richard waited for the hospital to discharge Silver so he could take her and Kennedy home. Her head was still aching, and her spine drove spikes of pain through her whenever she moved too suddenly, but all in all, she was far better than when she’d been admitted.
As Richard drove at a sedate pace, she felt the back of her skull, probing tenderly at the stitches, and realized that she’d been lucky the injury hadn’t been more serious. She could have easily bled out without attention — the odds had been fifty-fifty that she would have had a cerebral hemorrhage from the blow. And fortunately, the scan of her spine had revealed no fractures, which was a concern given how hard she’d hit the concrete.
Once at the flat, Richard carried their bags upstairs as she made her unsteady way behind him, taking care to grip the bannister securely. She’d had it with falling down stairs, and wanted to ensure that it never happened again.
A half-hour after arriving, she’d taken a shower and put on a new outfit, and Kennedy was ready to spend the day with Miriam. She still had the books Howard had given her and seemed committed to finishing them, which was strange knowing her love of all things computer. Maybe she had discovered the joy of books? There were worse things, Silver supposed.
Miriam was ecstatic to see Kennedy, and hugged Silver cautiously, careful not to cause any further damage.
“We’ll be back in three or four hours,” Silver said. “Keep her out of trouble, please.”
Miriam no
dded, eyeing Richard waiting in the car.
“I like your chauffeur, sweetie,” she commented dryly.
“I know. He’s a perk for solving the case. I understand he does a Chippendale’s dance later if I request one.”
“You just sold me a ticket.”
They both laughed, then Miriam suddenly kissed her cheek.
“It’s good to see you both back, Silver. I was so afraid for Kennedy…she’s okay? No ill effects? I would imagine an ordeal like that is traumatic…”
“She seems fine, although I’m going to take her to therapy later today in case something is lurking below the surface. No, to hear her tell it, the kidnapper was a perfect gentleman.”
“Do you believe her? Could she be lying to protect herself from having to face something ugly?” Miriam whispered.
“You know what? I do believe her. I met the kidnapper, and it was odd. He wasn’t…it wasn’t like you would think. I’m sure nothing happened.”
Miriam seemed skeptical. “Well, I’ll let you know if I see anything unusual. Right now, the challenge is to put all this behind her and let her get back to being a normal, healthy kid.”
“Good luck with that. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Back in the car, Richard pulled into traffic as Silver fastened her seat belt.
“You want to talk about anything in particular?” he ventured.
“I think I’d like to save any discussion about us until after we get done with the interview.”
“We? We get done?”
She looked at his profile. Definitely a good-looking man.
“I want someone who’s up on financial stuff to hear what he has to say. He had a long list of reasons for killing his victims. The creepy part was that as far as I could tell, he was making perfect sense. I need someone who knows the industry inside out and can ask questions or challenge his statements.”
“What kinds of statements did he make?” Richard asked, his intellectual curiosity now aroused.
Silver gave him a rundown of the basics — a loosely affiliated group of terrorist groups, criminal syndicates, unfriendly nations and foreign intelligence services had worked together to collapse the U.S. economy for fun and profit. She told him as much as she could remember, and when she finished, they had almost reached the office.
He whistled, low and long. “Wow. I can see why you’d want me in the room. That’s the most incredible story I’ve ever heard. Although big parts of it are consistent with what I know about the crisis. I recall seeing news about the heads of some of the biggest banks blaming manipulative short selling for destroying their companies.”
“Are you saying that it’s likely he’s telling the truth and accurately explaining what happened?”
“Without hearing it all, I can’t say for sure, but what you’ve described so far is not only plausible, but is one hundred percent consistent with what I know about the crisis and the way the markets work. If he’s right and you take this to its logical conclusion, then yes, it’s possible that the entire financial crisis was deliberately triggered. I mean, it would require tremendous capital to achieve, and you’d have to have the biggest players in the world helping you…but if they were making money doing it, I could see that as possible. That’s one of the things I’ve learned. Anything’s possible when the money gets big enough.”
They pulled into the garage next to the office, and Silver stared at Richard for a few beats.
“How come I’ve never heard about any of this before this case?”
“Who’s going to risk their livelihood telling people the truth? The media isn’t. And the regulators and politicians are going to swear that they’re honest as the day is long. The banks are just going to sneer and act like anyone telling the truth is crazy, and the entire machine will go along with their spin. For most people, reality is whatever the headlines say is reality.”
“Now you’re starting to make it sound like The Matrix.”
“I know. Believe me, I keep this stuff to myself most of the time. But you asked. The truth is that the system pretends to be honest, but isn’t. And it probably never has been. I think that’s a comfortable lie that makes it easier to sleep at night. Trust me — I’ve seen things that would make you question how much of any of our perception of the truth is actually real. Sounds like our killer may have taken the red pill. I hear that can drive you crazy.”
She studied his profile as they rolled to a stop. “How do you go to work every day, Richard, if that’s how it is?”
“Simple. What’s the alternative?”
They both absorbed that.
“Speaking of which, we have an interview to conduct.” Silver drew a few deep breaths, her head reeling, and mentally prepared for her interrogation with the man who had kidnapped her daughter and taken the lives of at least six men.
Chapter 26
Silver moved uneasily in her chair and glanced at Richard before returning to regard Howard, who sat opposite, his face a picture of calm. The last hour had involved a painstakingly detailed description of each killing, filled with information only the killer could know. They now had enough to bury him under the jail.
Silver took a sip of water and then reviewed her notes. “Howard, you mentioned you’re not well. Is that correct?” she asked.
“I did? No, I think I mentioned I am dying. Not well to dying is like comparing a paper cut to being fed into a wood chipper.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Three months ago I was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. It’s inoperable. They tried dabbling with chemo, but I didn’t do well with it and decided to abort the treatment — the doctor leveled with me and told me that it wouldn’t change my survival outcome, and I didn’t want to spend my last days on the planet with poison running through my veins.”
“How long do you have to live?”
“What time is it?” Howard cackled a dry hack. “Seriously? If I’m lucky, maybe two months. I feel like shit most days, but I’m still strong. As long as I can keep swinging, I guess there’s some fight left in me.”
“Would it be fair to say that your illness played a large part in your decision to become The Regulator?” Richard asked.
He sneered. “Is this stupid question day? Of course it did. I watched my wife, my daughter, my friends and neighbors, everyone I knew or cared about get flattened by the financial destruction perpetrated by this group, and then I find out I’ll be dead in under six months…you bet your ass it played a part. I did the math. Nobody would ever prosecute any of them. They’re untouchable. So I decided to make a difference. To punish those who thought themselves above dealing with the consequences of their actions.”
“That’s why the methodology of the killings changed,” Silver observed, “because of the significance of the deaths to your loved ones.”
“Asked and answered. We already covered that.”
Silver shifted gears. “Howard, can we go through the stuff we discussed about the crashing of the system? I’ve already taken Richard here through what I could remember, but I wanted him to hear the finer details from you.”
Silver and Richard had agreed that they would pretend ignorance during the interrogation so they could hear Howard’s story.
Richard regarded him. “Silver told me your theory — that the crisis was deliberately caused by a group of like-minded interests working together. And I understand that the mechanism to make the money as the market tanked was credit default swaps and naked short selling — I’m more than familiar with the massive bailouts the government stepped in and gave to AIG and others who wrote the swaps and couldn’t pay them. I remember the debate at the time — that all the government would have had to do was declare all swaps null and void, and there would have been no need for the bailouts — but the big banks would then have not made their windfall profits, so that was shouted down. But there are a few gaps, and I’m interested in hearing how the crash was achieved — the nuts and bolts.”
<
br /> Howard nodded. “How much do you know about the 1929 crash?”
“A fair amount. I studied it in school. Market manipulation was one of my areas of interest.”
“So you know that it and the ensuing Great Depression were the greatest transfers of wealth in history.”
“I know that a lot of money was made by a small number concentrated in New York and Europe, and the majority of the planet lost almost everything.”
“Right. But it’s not like that wealth disappeared. It went somewhere. As an interesting data point, did you know that the federal government emerged from the Great Depression four times wealthier than when it started? Put simply, at a time when twenty-five percent of the population was starving, the government quadrupled its wealth — in just its gold holdings alone. Doesn’t that strike you as odd — that the government made windfall profits at a time when mothers were feeding their babies from the teats of dogs because they were too starved to do it themselves?”
“Roosevelt made some horrendous mistakes. That’s historical fact.”
“But were they mistakes? Why is it that when I make a mistake I lose, but when the banks and government make a mistake, their wealth multiplies exponentially? Ever wonder about that? Ever wonder how, at the start of the Depression the government had limited power, and by the time it ended it had become a massive social engineering machine that regulated every aspect of an individual’s life?”
“Roosevelt was trying to build a social net for the disadvantaged.”
“Really? He wouldn’t have needed to if he hadn’t devalued the currency forty percent overnight after confiscating all the population’s gold, tightened margin requirements for banks to the point where there was no cash in the system, and insisted on tariffs that made necessary goods incredibly expensive for a population that was starving. You sure those mistakes weren’t so his buddies could steal the nation’s wealth? Most don’t know that he grew up with the wealthiest aristocracy in New York — I’m talking the Astors and the Rockefellers. He despised the common man, but publicly he was their champion. Isn’t it awfully coincidental that his social circle increased its riches unimaginably from his ‘mistakes’ at the direct expense of those he detested? And that his government increased its power in ways that a decade earlier would have been impossible?”
Silver Justice Page 26