The Money Trail

by J. C. Fields

  “No. After we talked last night, she’s going to keep working on them.”

  “Good.”

  “Is JR able to help?”

  “Don’t know. I’ll have to ask him.”

  ***

  When Kruger met JR Diminski, he and Mia lived on the third floor of a three-story building in the downtown region of Springfield, MO. His business occupied the second floor, with storage and administrative functions on the first. With the birth of Joseph Sean Diminski, the couple sold the building, bought a house across the street from the Kruger’s and moved the business to a two-story structure in a multi-use development in the southwest part of town. JR’s business had grown from a one-man operation to a nationally-known computer security firm employing sixty individuals. He let others run the day-to-day operations while he met with clients and did the programming.

  His private sideline business and first love remained the art of hacking.

  Before being known as JR Diminski, he was a computer software analyst for a large privately-held software company. The owner of the company decided to bring in new investors to help expand his business. The new investors, through stock manipulation, suddenly owned a majority of the outstanding shares. They proceeded to fire the entire analyst team and outsourced their jobs to India. Within a year, they dismantled the company and sold each piece separately, reaping millions for the new investors.

  After being dismissed, JR hacked into the laptop of the new owner and found multiple files outlining illegal activities. He copied the information and tried blackmailing the man, thus finding himself in the company of two men who intended to end his life. JR managed to escape, but in the process, killed one and wounded the other. He became a fugitive, fled to the center of the country, changed his name and started over. Now seven years later, with the help of Kruger and a man named Joseph Kincaid, he operated a successful business with no need to hide. He also aided his friend, Sean, on occasion.

  Kruger parked his dark gray Ford Mustang GT in a visitor’s slot in front of JR’s office building. When he walked in, Jodi Roberson, Vice President and General Manager, was talking to the receptionist and made a bee-line toward him. After a quick I-haven’t-seen-you-in-a-long-time hug, she smiled.

  “What’s it been, Sean, six months since you visited us last?”

  “At least. How’ve you been, Jodi?”

  “Busy. Trying to keep JR on task is exhausting work.”

  “I’m sure it is. Where is he?”

  She pointed toward the ceiling. “Second floor, same cubicle. I got here at seven and he was already engrossed in something. No telling how long he’s been here.”

  Chuckling, he walked toward the stairs. Kruger was proud and amazed at how his friend’s small one-man company had grown.

  As he approached JR’s cubicle next to the glassed-in conference room on the far side of the cubicle farm, he saw his friend’s head swiveling as he surveyed three flat-screen monitors in front of him. Stopping at the table behind JR, Kruger looked at the Mr. Coffee machine he had bought for JR almost a year ago. It looked well used, but he did not see any coffee for it.

  Without turning and looking at him, JR said, “Everyone uses it when there’s coffee. But they all think it’s someone else’s duty to buy the coffee. If you want a cup, you’ll have to use the Keurig.”

  Shrugging, he picked a coffee pod, placed it in the Keurig and started a cup. So far, JR had not diverted his attention from the monitors. When the coffee was done, JR finally turned to look at him.

  “Make me one, too.”

  Kruger placed his untouched cup in front of JR and waited for a few moments.

  “You’re welcome,” he announced.

  “Excuse me, what?”

  “I said, you’re welcome.”

  “Uh, okay. Uh—thanks, I guess.”

  Chuckling, Kruger returned to the machine and replaced the used coffee pod with a new one. When the blue light started flashing, he pressed the button to start another mug of coffee. While the water was forced through the pod, he leaned against the table.

  “What’re you working on?”

  “New client. Their system got hit with ransomware. Creeps wanted a million dollars to release their data. I did it for fifty thousand and now the client never has to worry about it again. I’ve got an idea of who did it and now I’m looking for them. Why?”

  “That was TMI.”

  “Huh?”

  “Too Much Information.”

  JR chuckled. “You asked.”

  Kruger took a sip of his coffee, grimaced and returned his attention to JR. “The reason I asked was to determine if you might want to work with me again.”

  JR stopped typing, turned to look at his friend and said, “I always enjoy working with you. You don’t need to ask. What’s the project?”

  “There are two parts.” Kruger outlined the investigation of the reporter’s and attorney’s murders and how the vice president’s name became involved.

  “The second part is a continuation of the Robert Burns Jr. investigation I was asked to do six months ago, but never started due to other priorities popping up. I think the two are related.”

  “How?”

  “You remember I had a meeting with Dmitri Orlov in Paris, right?”

  JR nodded.

  “After I gave Paul my report, he asked me to look into Orlov quietly, without using official FBI assets.”

  Silence was the response. Kruger knew his friend and allowed him to process the information.

  “Interesting.” JR took a sip of coffee and stared at a point on the far wall. After several moments, he turned his attention back to Kruger. “Why do you think they’re related?”

  Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. “A feeling.”

  “I’ve found your feelings are generally correct, Sean. Care to explain?”

  “We know Orlov was trying to gain influence in Congress by compromising senators.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What we don’t know is how successful his efforts have been. We know Robert Burns Sr., during his time as a senator in the early 2000s, was successful in getting various banking laws rescinded so Orlov’s banks could make more money.”

  Nodding, JR sipped his coffee.

  Kruger continued, “Those changes in banking regulations indirectly led to the Great Recession of 2008. The unintended consequences emboldened Orlov. What if the vice president is as compromised as Burns Sr. was? What then?”

  “Scary.”

  “Yeah, it’s scary. I spoke to Paul on the way over here. Looking into Orlov and the VP is now my top priority. He agrees with me about the two events being related.”

  JR turned back to the computer and started talking to himself. “Hmmm… I’ll first need to look at the VP’s social media presence before he was a politician and see where that takes us.”

  Kruger knew his friend was now in a zone and would be non-communicative for a while. He walked into the conference room, closed the door and started making phone calls.

  Thirty minutes later, Kruger saw JR turn in his chair and motioned for him to join him at the cubicle. When he opened the conference room door, JR said, “Pull up a chair. You’re not going to like what I’ve found.”

  Chapter 5

  Springfield, MO

  “Ever hear of a 501(c)(4) corporation?”

  Kruger nodded, “Yes, they’re non-profit organizations.”

  “Yes, but they also have another identifier. Non-profit social welfare organizations.”

  “So?”

  “They can act like Political Action Corporations or Super PACs in political campaigns with no need to reveal who their donors are. By law, they have to keep a list of donors who give over $5,000, but not those who give below that amount.”

  “Okay. Again, so?”

  “That means it is completely legal for overseas contributors to give them money for the purposes of contributing to politicians.”

  “Yeah, but $5,000 is chump
change in today’s political atmosphere.”

  “Yeah, but if 1,000 donors give $4,999 dollars, that’s five million dollars, which is definitely not chump change. Plus, if you have more than one 501(c)(4) giving money to the same candidate and each has a thousand donors, you’re talking serious money.”

  Kruger didn’t respond.

  JR continued, “When Donald Pittman was elected governor of Virginia, he had five of these organizations giving him money for his campaign. Two of those organizations were legit. Three were dubious, at best.”

  “Okay, you’ve got my attention. Can you trace the money?”

  Shaking his head, JR said, “Not now. But I was able to find the campaign report showing huge sums of money spent on things like postage, meals and a variety of generic disbursements during those years. Plus, I found the name of the LLC the campaign claimed provided security for the candidate.”

  Kruger frowned as he said, “I thought the state provides that.”

  “But the candidate is also allowed to provide additional security if he so desires.”

  “What are you trying to say, JR?”

  “I’m not trying to say anything, Sean. I’m merely pointing out a possibility. One that seems to be more reality than speculation. To be positive, I need more than thirty minutes to confirm any of it.”

  “Okay. What’s the name of the LLC providing security? I can have them checked out.”

  “No, you can’t,” shaking his head, JR turned back to his keyboard. “The Virginia Secretary of State’s office shows the company did not renew its charter after the election.” He pointed to the left screen of his three monitors.

  With pursed lips, Kruger drummed his fingers on the cubicle’s desk. After a dozen seconds, he asked, “What happened to all the money left in the PAC’s?”

  “Numbered account in Dubai.”

  “Shit.”

  “There’s more.”

  “What?”

  “It got worse when he became the VP candidate.”

  “How much worse?”

  “Twenty million dollars.”

  “Take whatever time you need, but this may be what Keira Pennington was trying to confirm.”

  “Do you think Jolene Sanders had confirmation of any of this?”

  Once again, Kruger did not respond immediately. After taking a few moments to stare at the computer screen, he returned his attention to JR. “That is something we need to find out.”

  ***

  The second-floor conference room in the southwest corner of JR’s building began as a normal glassed-in meeting room. Now, after the installation of specially-designed windows comprised of two independent glass panes with a vacuum in between and acoustic ceiling tiles, the room was soundproof. This served two purposes: it prevented conversations from being monitored on the outside and kept the sounds of the second floor from intruding on meetings. JR regularly met with clients about their computer security and remained paranoid of others listening to those conversations. In addition, on occasion, he held meetings with Sean Kruger concerning investigations. These discussions always occurred within the confines of the room.

  He sat across from Kruger as both men stared at the Polycom VoIP Conference Phone sitting in the middle of the conference table. On the other end of the call was Director of the FBI Paul Stumpf, Assistant Director Alan Seltzer and Ryan Clark at the Hoover Building, with Assistant Attorney General Brian McAlister at the Robert F. Kennedy Justice Department Building.

  Kruger finished outlining JR’s findings about the vice president and waited for a response.

  The Polycom unit only emitted silence.

  Finally, Stumpf cleared his throat and asked, “So, you believe Vice President Pittman is compromised?”

  “Sir, what I believe is immaterial,” Kruger replied. “But evidence suggests Pittman was heavily financed by Dmitri Orlov during the time he ran for office in Virginia. Ryan, have you discussed your findings?”

  “Not yet,” Clark answered.

  Everyone on the conference call at the Hoover Building focused their attention on Clark. Stumpf nodded at him, “Go ahead, Ryan. The floor is yours.”

  “Some, but not all, of the notes found in Keira Pennington’s home were transcribed from their original shorthand late yesterday.” He paused for a few moments as he took a sip from a bottle of water sitting in front of him. “The reporter was investigating the members of an economic steering committee Vice President Pittman chairs. They meet on a weekly basis at the VP residence at Number One Observatory Circle on the grounds of the United States Naval Observatory. She found evidence linking three of the members of this committee to banks with ties to Dmitri Orlov. All three are on the Boards of Directors of these banks. An investigation concluded by Agent Kruger and myself last year suggested Orlov was seeking influence within the US government to make policies friendlier to the Russian government.”

  Director Paul Stumpf was in his early 60s. At one time a dedicated marathon runner, he still maintained a lean body. But after having both knees replaced, he was starting to add a few pounds to his five-eleven frame. His hair was dark brown, perfectly styled, with the first appearance of gray around his temples. Rimless glasses sat on an unremarkable nose in front of arctic blue eyes. During Stumpf’s rise within the FBI, he and Kruger worked together a few times in their early careers. Now decades later, he was the director, thanks in part to an investigation Kruger solved four years earlier.

  The director’s demeanor remained neutral as he tapped his lips with an index finger.

  “Can you substantiate the links or is this a coincidence?” he asked.

  “We can substantiate the links, Paul,” Kruger answered. “The information is solid.”

  Stumpf nodded and remained quiet for a few moments. “Brian, what is the DOJ’s position?”

  “After hearing your preliminary evidence, I believe I need to take this to a grand jury.”

  This was the response Kruger was hoping for. “Sir, we’ll summarize our findings with the collaborating evidence and Ryan Clark will do the same with what he has. You will have it by the end of the day.”

  Clark nodded in agreement and Stumpf stood.

  “Gentlemen, this information is disturbing, I can’t emphasize this enough: be detailed with your evidence, document where it was obtained and throw out anything you are unsure of. The person being accused is the vice president of the United States. Once it’s presented to a grand jury, if there is any hearsay, untruths or holes in your evidence, it will come back and bite you and the FBI in the ass. Make sure that does not happen.”

  He walked out of the conference room, leaving Alan Seltzer and Ryan Clark staring at each other.

  ***

  After disconnecting the call, Kruger smiled and looked at JR.

  “So how do we disclose how our information was found without admitting to you hacking into various government and private computer systems?”

  “You worry too much. We tie it back to the investigation of Joel Moody.”

  Nodding, Kruger was quiet as he thought about the case that brought him back from a self-imposed retirement of teaching at a local university to being an FBI agent again. The cold case was almost two decades old when an incident with a local graduate student reminded him of his old investigation into the disappearances of six college women. Unhappy teaching, he returned to the FBI to reopen the case. The original investigation never produced a person of interest, nor did it result in finding the women. But with JR’s assistance, they took a different approach and discovered a possible suspect: Joel Moody.

  He was a former Seattle vice cop working as the head of security for the thirty-ninth richest man in the world, former Senator Robert Burns. As the investigation progressed, they learned Moody had a financial arrangement with certain groups of Russian criminals importing women from Asia to work as sex slaves on the west coast. How the financial arrangement came to be was never truly proven. But Kruger and his team discovered why the college wome
n disappeared and why their bodies were never found. The son of Moody’s employer, Robert Burns Jr., became the person of interest. Unfortunately, his death brought the investigation to a premature conclusion.

  During the inquiry, JR traced money paid to Moody via a number of foreign-owned banks with branches in the United States.

  Now those same banks, with hidden ties to both Russia and a Russian criminal organization operating in New York City and Washington, DC, had members of their boards serving on the vice president’s economic council.

  Emerging from his funk, Kruger stood.

  “Outline the steps you took following the money trail and I’ll review my case notes. I want an airtight case summarized by this afternoon.”

  JR smiled. “Does this mean I’m working with you again?”

  “Yes, my friend, it does.”

  “Good. I’ve been bored.”

  Chapter 6

  Washington, D.C.

  Two Weeks Later

  Vice President of the United States Donald Pittman sat behind his desk and wiped sweat from his upper lip with a white handkerchief. He listened as President Richard Bryant screamed at him over the phone. Pittman’s Chief of Staff, Colin Rector, stood in front of the desk, a concerned look on his face. Rector could hear the president’s angry voice, but the words were unintelligible from where he stood.

  “Why are these men on your advisory council, Don?” The president’s words were harsh and accusatorial. He took time for a calming breath. “Care to tell me why all three of them have ties to a Russian oligarch, who, by the way, has a direct link to the Russian president?”

  “I was unaware of their connection. Their reputation within the financial community is well established.”

  The president’s voice rose ten decibels.

  “Bullshit, Don. According to a briefing given to me this afternoon by FBI Director Stumpf, they are unknown outside the European market and have direct ties to Moscow. Two of them don’t even have a background in banking.”