by Russell Fee
Whether the FBI’s investigation could now garner enough evidence to indict Abdullah and Bland for financial crimes remained unclear. Even if it could, the legal maneuverings of the high-priced teams of lawyers that Abdullah and Bland could afford might stretch the proceedings into years. And, as far as Callahan knew, no extradition treaty existed between the UAE and the US, so Abdullah could hide out in perfect safety in Dubai.
Despite the kudos from Dempsey, the way he saw it, he had accomplished nothing. Two likely murderers and kidnappers were still free, and he believed one of them was in his county. He now felt convinced that Bland had Susan Gibbons and Jackson murdered or was covering up for whoever had. Susan Gibbons had died clutching a computer that appeared to contain encrypted data about the flow of money from Dubai through off-shore accounts to companies owned by Bland and into the coffers of politicians in the Michigan legislature, politicians whose votes could pass into law the pending bill allowing drilling for oil and natural gas in Lake Michigan.
Bland also owned stock in companies connected to secret drilling rigs along the Michigan shoreline. He and Abdullah stood to gain billions in the production of oil and natural gas from the lake if the bill succeeded, but not if their crimes were discovered. They thus had a motive for murder. They also had the opportunity: Susan Gibbons worked on the Odyssey, Bland’s yacht, at the time of her death. The evidence inexorably pointed to Bland and Abdullah but inconclusively. The FBI had to connect solidly the source of the money to Abdullah and prove Bland’s complicity in its illegal flow to members of the Michigan legislature.
And the video, although showing a murder, neither identified the victim nor the perpetrator. Callahan knew in his gut that Bland had lied about what he had seen in the video. Someone was in the act of murdering Susan Gibbons, and Bland knew who. His gut also told him that Bland would do whatever it took to protect the identity of that person, especially if he was that person.
As the ship approached the dock, Callahan saw Max standing on a bench in the bow holding the dog and waving to him. Julie held on to him with one hand and waved excitedly with the other, smiling. Callahan raised his hand to wave back, and, at that moment, all worry vanished.
Chapter 87
Callahan leaned on the cruiser’s open door and watched the small airplane tow the banner over the beach. Swimmers, sunbathers, and picnickers all looked up as PREVENT DRILLING IN THE LAKE. ACT NOW sliced across the sky above them. Beneath the aerial entreaty glowed a website address. Someone had hired a fleet from Sky Media to fly up and down the eastern shore of Lake Michigan, and now it was the island’s turn. The plane had been circling the island all afternoon buzzing the popular beaches.
Fred’s Boat Rental on Rainbow Bay had submitted its annual application for a boat livery permit to the station. On his way to inspect Fred’s motorized rental boats to ensure they met Michigan’s safety standards, Callahan had stopped to view the plane.
The plane banked and was heading back over the beach when the cruiser’s radio blared.
“Matt, you’re wanted out at Bland’s bunker immediately. Amanda’s waiting for you there.” Julie’s voice crackled over the cruiser’s transceiver and then went silent.
Callahan reached into the cruiser and grabbed the radio’s mic. He keyed it. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Not sure. Bland called the station asking for you. Amanda was here so I gave her the call. She’s out at the bunker and says Bland is inside and won’t open the door until you’re there. But he insisted that she stay until you arrived. He’s very agitated, she said. Also, his security personnel are nowhere to be found. That’s all I know,” said Julie.
* * *
The door to the bunker opened before Callahan reached the end of the walkway to the entrance.
“Come in, please,” said Bland, standing inside, out of sight behind the heavy door.
Callahan and Amanda entered, and Bland quickly pushed the door shut.
The immaculate and harmonized sunken living room that Amanda remembered now appeared disheveled. Dead flowers drooped in vases; food encrusted plates littered most of the flat surfaces of the room, including the seats of chairs; and an automatic rifle and ammunition lay across the cut-glass and marble table opposite the sprawling white leather couch. Bland looked haggard as he shambled to the couch and collapsed onto it. He slowly lowered his hand toward the floor for Callahan and Amanda to sit.
Amanda removed two plates from a chair and placed them on the floor. Then she sat down but not before she brushed off the cushion.
Callahan picked up the automatic rifle. “What’s this about? And where is everyone?” he asked.
“I sent them away. I fired them. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anybody,” said Bland.
“So you’ve armed yourself?” said Callahan.
Bland nodded.
“Against what?” asked Callahan.
“I know who wants me dead. And he will succeed in killing me. He can get to anybody through anybody. I’ve seen him do it,” said Bland.
“Who do you think is going to kill you?” asked Amanda leaning forward in her chair.
“I don’t think. I know. It’s Abdullah,” answered Bland. He bent over, almost double, and covered his face with his hands. “I’m exhausted, I’m afraid, and I need help,” he added.
“You want us to protect you?” Amanda sounded incredulous even to herself. “With all your money, you could hire an army to guard this place,” she blurted out without thinking.
Bland dropped his hands and raised his head. He glared at Amanda. “Abdullah could buy me a hundred times over. One day soon I will simply be found dead from a drug overdose or drunk and drowned in my pool, or. . . At least those will appear to be the causes.”
Callahan set the rifle back down on the table. “Then what do you want?” he asked.
Bland looked up a Callahan. “My money won’t protect me, but I have something that will.” Bland paused and then said, “Information. I have information. I know how Abdullah is growing his wealth. I know what he is doing with it and how. It’s information the government wants and needs. I know that now. It’s what Susan Gibbons was after. I know who killed her and who had that federal marshal killed. I know everything.”
Amanda stood up. “Are you seeking protection from the government? Are you trying to enter the Witness Security Program?”
Bland turned to her and sat upright, supporting himself with both hands on the cushions. “Abdullah wants me dead because he thinks I’m losing my nerve. I told him you were getting too close to us, finding out too much, that we should cut our losses, wash everything clean, and back out before you uncovered it all.” Bland shook his head. “The collateral damage was getting too high.”
Callahan lunged at Bland, grabbed him by his shirt, and yanked him to his feet. “You son of a bitch. You call multiple deaths and kidnapping collateral damage? You made your last mistake when you broke into my circle and messed with those inside it. The only help you’ll get from us is escorting your body to the morgue.” Callahan shoved Bland away. Bland fell back against the couch, lost his balance, and tumbled to the floor; landing on his side.
Callahan took the rifle from the table and signaled for Amanda to follow him as he headed for the door. “I hope we get that pleasure very soon,” he said, reaching for the handle.
“This bunker has become my prison.” Bland whined. “I need to disappear. You have to—” His last words were cut off as the steel door shut.
* * *
“Why did you take his rifle?” Amanda took the keys to the cruiser out of her pocket as she and Callahan walked from Bland’s bunker.
“I want Bland to feel even more vulnerable than he does now. Plus, I don’t want the asshole to shoot himself or anybody else before I can get Dempsey here to interrogate him,” said Callahan.
“Then we’re going to watch over him until that happens?” asked Amanda.
“Yep. You call Sheriff Markos and have him fly a cou
ple of deputies out here to help us guard this place. I’ll call Dempsey and tell him Bland wants to spill his guts for a price,” said Callahan.
“The price being buried out of sight in the Witness Security Program?” Amanda tossed the keys in the air and then caught them.
“Sure looks that way,” said Callahan.
Amanda reached for the door of the cruiser but stopped before she opened it. “You okay with that?” she asked.
“Maybe,” answered Callahan. “We’ll see.”
Chapter 88
The helicopter touched down on the front lawn of the bunker and four armed FBI agents raced to the entrance and escorted Bland from the door to the chopper at a run. As the helicopter lifted off the ground, Dempsey gave Callahan a quick salute from its window.
Chapter 89
Callahan gathered Amanda, Nick, and Julie in his office. Dempsey had called him earlier with the status on Bland. He had important news to tell them.
“Congratulations are definitely in order,” he began. “Bland turned out to be a treasure trove. Turning him will help bring down one of the largest human trafficking syndicates in the world and impound its fortune. Through Bland, the Justice Department now has solid evidence to prosecute and convict those running the syndicate. Bland is now under deep cover in the Witness Security Program.
“According to Bland’s testimony, Abdullah served as the syndicate’s money man and routed billions from its operations in Thailand to Dubai. As we thought, from there, he laundered huge chunks of the money through Bland’s companies where it found its way into the pockets of members of the Michigan legislature. Bland and Abdullah wanted to influence the vote on the bill allowing drilling for oil and gas in Lake Michigan. They had already bought up land in key areas of the lakeshore for that purpose. As fallout from this, seven Michigan congresspersons are going to prison along with the governor. They did not report the money they pocketed to the IRS.”
“What about Abdullah?” interrupted Amanda. “Can’t he escape prosecution here by staying in Dubai?”
“Yes and no,” said Callahan. “There is no extradition treaty between the United Arab Emirates and the United States, but it appears that Abdullah is not one of the most popular princes. He and his family have alienated those who hold real power in the Emirates. They want to get rid of him to stay on good terms with our government, so he’s being sent here. He’ll be arrested when he arrives.”
“And what about— ” Nick began to speak.
“Susan Gibbons?” Callahan turned the tables for once on Nick and completed his question. “I was saving her for last. Abdullah murdered her. According to Bland, Abdullah was only in Thailand once with high level members of the syndicate, but Susan must have recognized him on the yacht. He found her searching his computer and murdered her. When Abdullah found out about Jackson’s affair with her, apparently by bugging our office, he had him killed.” Before anyone could ask another question, Callahan slapped his hands on his desk. “That’s it then,” he said. Let’s get back to work.”
As everyone was leaving, he touched Julie’s arm and motioned for her to stay. When they were alone, he said, “It’s over now. We’ve nothing to fear anymore.”
* * *
Julie received a call about a stray dog on the bay’s public beach. Callahan was on his way to the cruiser to answer the call when a young man on a bicycle rode onto the station’s gravel driveway and stopped in front of Callahan. He swung off the bike and extended his hand across the handlebars in greeting to Callahan.
“Good morning, Sheriff. I’m Edward Chen, the new editor of the Ledger now that Mr. Gallagher’s retired. I was hoping you’d be at the station.”
Callahan shook his hand. “Good to meet you,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m researching a story and am looking for Anthony Bland. I’ve been out to his place here on the island several times but he’s not there, and no one seems to know where he is. I thought you might know where I can find him.”
Callahan’s thin smile widened until it grew into a full-blown grin. “I have absolutely no earthly idea,” he said. “And you can quote me on that.”
THE END
Author’s Note
Michigan’s Natural Resources and Environmental Protection Act provides in part as follows:
The supervisor of mineral wells, acting directly or through his or her deputy or authorized representative, may do any of the following:
(d) Require on all wells the keeping and filing of logs containing data that are appropriate to the purposes of this part. Logs on brine and test wells shall be held confidential for 10 years after completion and shall not be open to public inspection during that time except by written consent of the owner or operator. Logs for test wells drilled for exploratory purposes shall be held confidential until released by the owner or operator. The logs on all brine and test wells for exploratory purposes shall be opened to public inspection when the owner is no longer an active mineral producer, mineral lease holder, or owner of mineral lands in this state.
*
In 1953, the state of Michigan granted an underwater easement through the Straits of Mackinac for an oil pipeline running from shale oil wells in Canada to oil refineries in Detroit. That pipe line, known as line 5, is still active. As of the printing of this book, it has never leaked.
Acknowledgments
I want to express a special thanks to Dr. Michael Kaufman for his medical knowledge, keen editing, enthusiasm, and friendship, all of which I gratefully relied on in completing this novel.
As always, my thanks to Don Debruin, John Morris, Robert Karrow, Kriste Masek, Colleen Seal, Carrie Munno, Patti Cone, Gary Strokosch, and Jonathan Alpert for once again diving in and reading the manuscripts of this work and for the invaluable feedback they gave.
And to Joan—editor and helpmate supreme.
About the Author
Russell Fee grew up in Washington, D.C. and London. After graduating from the College of William and Mary, he served in the army as a military intelligence officer and then became a trial lawyer, litigating civil rights and civil liberties cases, before becoming a teacher. In their inimitable ways, these careers inspired his novels. He and his wife have been fortunate to travel the world and are both dual citizens of the United States and Ireland. They now live in the Midwest, which they love.