Read Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Rick Santini
No one was aware Jack Renaldo had spent the better part of the morning in the private offices of the US Attorney for the Southern District of New York. Had anyone checked, Mr. Renaldo had not made an appointment and the US Attorney, had no record of any meeting with his former colleague.
In fact, for all practical purposes, the meeting had never taken place. There were no notes, no records of any sort. It could have been assumed Jack was in the building on other business and decided to stop by to ask Mr. Winters if he were free for a round of golf this weekend.
Seth Winters, the US Attorney, had a bad back and had not picked up a club in the past three years. He was not about to begin now.
The subjects of the non-meeting were Salvatore Bonnonnos and Anthony Scalesci. It was strictly quid pro quo.
“Give me some time to verify the facts. I appreciate what you’re doing for me. For all of New York and New Jersey. I think we understand each other. No one will ever know where I acquired this information. Thanks, Jack.”
With that, Black Jack Renaldo left through a side door. No one saw him enter Mr. Winters’ office. No one saw him leave, with one exception, Marta’s old friend, Josh Beckman, the one who tipped Marta off to the Sonny Banana’s investigation in the first place.
Was it luck, coincidence, or my gut feeling?
Josh did not believe in luck or coincidences.
I recognize him from someplace but where?
He casually asked Mr. Winter’s secretary if the boss had a minute to discuss a case.
“Mr. Winters gave me specific instructions; he is not to be disturbed. I think he’s with a former colleague, a US Attorney from Virginia or West Virginia. I’m not sure.”
Josh now knew exactly who it was. Marta’s new partner. He had seen his picture a half dozen times. Josh hesitated a split second and decided to gamble.
“Did someone take the Salvatore Bonnonnos file from my desk?”
“Oh, I think Mr. Winters has it on his desk.”
“No big deal, I can find what I want in another file. Thanks, and please don’t bother telling Mr. Winters I was here. He’ll think I have nothing to do and just load me up with more files.”
He winked at the older secretary, and she winked back. They now had a little secret between them. She did not know how big a secret it was.
Why?
The answer was simple; they were making some sort of deal. The question was, what was Renaldo offering? It had to be substantial.
Josh decided to buy some fresh-cut flowers from a street vender at lunch time and give them to Beth Booker, Mr. Winters’ private secretary. Like chicken soup, it may not help, but it sure couldn’t hurt.
The next morning, when Mr. Winters was out of the office, he again stopped by Beth’s desk to make sure she liked the flowers. Beth blushed like a teenage girl getting her first kiss. Josh noticed a new file on her desk. It appeared to have only a few yellow pages in it. The name on the file was
‘ANTHONY SCALESCI'
.’ It was marked
‘CONFIDENTIAL.’
Everything in the US Attorney’s office is confidential. As to the lawyers in the office, nothing is confidential.
Are they connected and if so, how?
Josh decided to do a little homework.
***
Marta knew all the papers on the Yeung/Scalesci transaction were in Jack’s office. All she had to do was walk in, read the file, and determine what Xiang’s obligations were, if any. She decided not to. She had promised Xiang she would keep their meeting strictly confidential. She would have had no reason to look at Jack’s file—though, it was technically the office’s file and she was a named partner.
Here’s my chance to kill two birds with one well-placed pebble.
“Good afternoon, Xiang. I have given considerable thought to your question. I would like to review all the documents but don’t want to ask Jack. I would also like to congratulate Mei Ling on her wise decision. Would it be possible for the three of us to have lunch tomorrow? You could make copies of all the documents and give them to me then.”
Xiang appeared delighted. He was concerned he had lost a dear friend. The luncheon would go a long way in repairing the relationship.
“We would be honored and delighted. What time and where? May we pick you up, my dear?”
“Thanks, it won’t be necessary. I’ll be in the area on another matter.”
She then gave Xiang the time and place.
***
The thin file contained photo copies for six passports. All six established the fact they were all in Zurich, Switzerland on the same date, less than two weeks ago. The names were: Jack Renaldo, Xiang Yeung, Simon Winthrop, Anthony Scalesci, Vito Barcolli, and John Nunziono.
Within three hours, Josh had the profiles on all six. He already knew who Jack and Mr. Yeung were. The name Simon Winthrop was familiar, and it didn’t take long to figure out who he was and what he did. He was now looking at FBI profiles on Scalesci, Barcolli, and Nunziono. Scalesci was the name that stuck out. He ran all drugs, among other lucrative enterprises, in the metropolitan Chicago area. Barcolli and Nunziono were minor players. They were basically dressed up muscle.
Winthrop was the key. There was only one reason a commercial contract attorney would travel to the financial capital of the world with two known drug lords. Some type of deal had to have been made. He had to put pressure on Winthrop to find out what and how. Winthrop knew damn well any matter he had was covered under attorney/client confidentiality.
It has to be subtle, very subtle. The last thing I need is for my boss to find out I’m meddling in something that’s none of my business.
Josh realized Winthrop’s office was a short three blocks away from the Federal Building he was now in. He knew what Simon looked like from the passport photo. He took a chance and called his office on a pretext of delivering a package. The receptionist was good enough to state Mr. Winthrop was about to go to lunch. He always ate at the same place, Nick’s Gyro’s on Houston Street. He would be back in about forty-five minutes.
Josh was standing by the window outside of Nick’s when Winthrop walked out. He had been watching him for the past fifteen minutes.
“Mr. Winthrop, I thought I recognized you. I guess you like Greek food as much as I do.”
“I’m sorry. Do I know you? You don’t look familiar.”
“No, we’ve never met. I was sitting next to you a few weeks ago at the coffee shop at the Renaissance Tower Hotel in Zurich. You were with your client, Xiang Yeung.”
“You must be mistaken; I was never there—we stayed at the Hyatt Park.”
Winthrop quickly realized his mistake. He didn’t think like a trial attorney. He had admitted where he was to someone he didn’t know.
“You’re absolutely right; it was Anthony Scalesci and his two goons, Vito ‘Two Potatoes’ Barcolli and John ‘Gin Gin Johnny’ Nunziono posing as businessmen, who stayed at the Renaissance. Sorry for the mistake and having bothered you.”
“Who are you? How do you know who I am, where I eat, and who my clients may or may not be?”
Josh quickly flashed his credentials that boldly stated ‘
OFFICE OF THE UNITED STATES ATTORNEY.’
“I’m afraid I am not at liberty to answer your questions. Ongoing investigation. Have a nice day, Simon. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again.”
With that, Josh was gone. He was sure Winthrop had not had time to read his name on the ID. He had taken the precaution of wearing sunglasses and a New York Yankees baseball cap.
He hated the Yankees. He had been a Red Sox fan for as long as he could remember.
That should shake him up a bit.
Simon Winthrop was sorry he had a spicy gyro and Greek salad for lunch. Suddenly, he was feeling nauseous. He wanted to talk to someone, but there was no one to confide in. He had signed a confidentiality agreement and was not about to break it. Not if he valued his life and the lives of his wife and only son.
Why did I get involved? It sure as hell wasn’t worth it. Too late now, I guess.
***
Billy had a gut feeling. Something was wrong. Very wrong. It was not something he could see or touch. It was a feeling, and he was seldom wrong about it. He had made his living the past thirty years listening to his gut—ever since he was in moot court and knew his law professor was being dishonest. The professor had purposely lied to see if Billy would pick it up and, if so, do anything about it.
The professor did not like Billy’s arrogance. He did not like Billy’s attitude. He did not like the fact Billy was usually right.
Billy turned to the old time professor who was acting as both judge and jury in the mock trial.
“Your Honor, I respectfully move that you recuse yourself from this hearing.”
The law school moot courtroom fell silent. Billy Jo Gibson was challenging the authority of his own professor, one who had the ability to give him a failing grade and thereby terminate his desire to be a lawyer.
“On what grounds, Mr. Gibson?”
“Bias, Your Honor. You own more than a thousand shares of stock in the plaintiff’s corporation. I looked it up. If the defendant wins, it will severely diminish the value of your stock. You had a legal and moral obligation to disclose that fact. You did not tell anyone. That could be grounds for removal from the bench if this were a real trial.”
“You are absolutely correct, Mr. Gibson. I must commend you on your thorough research. You have more than earned your A. This mock hearing is now concluded. Mr. Gibson, I would like to see you in my office after class. That is if you can spare me a few moments of your most valuable time.”
“Yes, sir.”
***
“How did you know? I told no one.”
“It’s a public corporation, Professor. Your name, your family’s name, and the trust that also owns stock are a public record. If I’m going to try a case and win, I want to know all the facts and who has the most to gain. Follow the money. It’s that simple, sir.”
That was the first of many victories. Billy had a nose for knowing when something did not smell right. He was now getting that smell in his own office. He wasn’t sure who was more guilty, Jack or Marta.
They can’t possibly be plotting against me; they hate each other too much.
While Billy was feeling uncomfortable, Marta was having a pleasant lunch with the office’s wealthiest client and his sister.
“This place is most delightful. I am pleased you have invited both of us to join you.”
Marta acknowledged the compliment by Xiang and turned her attention to Mei Ling.
“It’s been quite a while. Tell me all about your new life.”
Mei Ling looked embarrassed. She did not like to draw attention to herself.
“As you know, my brother has divorced himself from the filthy opium business and has pledged he will do whatever he can to help abused women and children here and in our original home. He has seen the error of his ways and is now on the path of true enlightenment. I still consider Manhattan home, but for now, I stay with Xiang in his home.”
Marta was listening hard to see if Mei Ling was merely mouthing the words or really meant it. It sounded like she believed it.
“May I assume, as far as the two of you are concerned, my services are no longer necessary?”
For a split second, Marta saw a look of uncertainty in Mei Ling’s eyes.
“We still consider you a close friend, one that was instrumental in bringing us together. We would not want to lose that friendship,” Mei Ling responded.
“I feel the same,” Marta reassured her.
Something’s not right. I can feel it. She doesn’t want Xiang to know. I have to arrange a private meeting with her to find out.
“Shall we order, ladies?”
Xiang was clearly trying to change the subject.
It was obvious to Marta that Mei Ling was not the only one troubled. She knew Xiang was thinking of the ramifications of the sale to Scalesci. He had quietly handed her a rather large envelope when he first walked in the door. He knew his future and all his promises depended on what advice Marta gave him. Certainly, he always made the final decision, but what good was paying for advice if he did not accept it?
It was Mei Ling that made the first move.
“May I ask where you buy your clothes, Marta? They are so, so casual and appear to fit perfectly.”
Marta knew where the conversation was going.
“There are several shops in the Village that always seem to have just the right look. I would be happy to meet you and go shopping one afternoon. What about this Saturday? We could have lunch and then go on a spending spree. I hope you have a credit card that needs a good workout.”
Xiang sat and said nothing. He was not particularly pleased, but there was nothing he could do.
“Saturday would be perfect.”
Mei Ling turned to her brother. “Would it be all right if Jabor drove me into the city on Saturday, about eleven in the morning?”
“Of course, my precious little sister.”
The balance of lunch was consumed in relative quiet. Each was thinking of what Saturday would hold.
***
It was not until late afternoon that Marta dumped the pile of papers on her empty desk. She had closed the door. That meant she was not to be disturbed.
Marta was not a contract attorney, but it did not take a law review scholar to read the agreements. Xiang had done all he was required to do. He had turned over his lists of distributors, introduced the seller to the supplier, and signed a personal non-compete agreement, all of which were unenforceable in any court in the United States of America. In addition, the contract was signed in Switzerland, the parties were actually in Switzerland, and the transfer of funds took place in a Swiss bank in Switzerland. If there were a law suit, and Marta was betting her last dollar that was not how disputes of this nature were settled, the proper venue for jurisdiction would have to be Switzerland.
In reading the documents a second time, just to make sure, Marta found a loophole an NFL lineman could run through.
I’m shocked Winthrop did not think of this. He could be sued for malpractice.
Again, drug lords did not settle matters like this in a court of law.
That’s why Scalesci hired people like “‘Two Potatoes” Barcolli and “Gin Gin Johnny” Nunziono.
I’m not sure it’s relevant, but I have a legal obligation to inform Xiang of this.
Marta’s mind now switched to Rod. She had not talked to him in a few days. In her mind, she already knew she was going to join him for sun, sand, and most definitely sex. She was anxious to meet his family and friends. The question was how. How could she justify taking ten days off work after just coming back from a fourteen-day rehabilitation vacation?
Think, Marta, think.
***
“Rod, it’s me. Call me tonight on my cell phone.”
She was about to hang up when she added, “I miss you.”
As she was putting all the Yeung/Scalesci papers in an unmarked file in the locked drawer of her desk, a call came through from Xiang.
“Good afternoon, Xiang, I was just about to call you. What can I do for you?”
In a most uncharacteristic manner, Xiang inquired as to whether Marta had an opportunity to review all the documents. For a patient man, one who waits for information to come to him, he appeared anxious, almost unnerved. Totally not his normal
modus operandi.
“Xiang, I have read the documents, twice. First of all, there is no bad news. In fact, I have good news, and if the circumstances change significantly, even better news.”
Marta could feel the anxiety on the other end of the phone.
“First, you have honored every provision of the contract. There is absolutely nothing Mr. Scalesci could sue you for, assuming he could find a venue to even bring an action. From a practical point of view, you are one hundred percent in the clear. Spend your money any way you want. You will never have to repay it.”
“Thank you, Marta. I assumed as much but feel better hearing it from an attorney, namely one I trust without question. Now what is the other good news?”
Marta waited a second before answering. “I would prefer to discuss that with you in person. I do not like or trust telephones. Perhaps you can come in on Monday or Tuesday of next week.”
“I would much prefer it be sooner.”
There was no way she was going to his place. She looked at her desk calendar.
“What about nine tomorrow morning? It shouldn’t take more than five to ten minutes, but I want to make sure you understand fully.”
They talked for another minute or two, reconfirmed the time, and hung up.
He seems very nervous. Why?