Read White Collar Blackmail: White Collar Crime Financial Suspense Thriller Online
Authors: Peter Ralph
The third page of
The Wall Street Journal
carried a small article about a senior audit manager in a blue chip accounting firm facing numerous insider trading charges. The information about the Caymans bank account was disclosed and had obviously been leaked by the SEC or FBI.
Doug Lechte had been quick to call an emergency early morning meeting of Montgomery Hastings & Pierce’s thirty-eight New York partners. The mood in the conference room was tense and several partners who traditionally supported Lechte refused to make eye contact. “My partners and friends,” he said, “you will have heard that Vanessa Hodge is being arraigned in the Manhattan federal court later today on insider trading charges. I’ve spoken to Vanessa at length about the charges that relate to Virtex Software and Philco Laboratories. She swears that she did not breathe a word to anyone about the results of these companies and that she is not the source.”
“She’s lying,” Cromwell interjected, “and if you believe her, you’re a fool. I spoke to the lead SEC investigator last night, and the evidence against her is damning. They even found a bank account in her name in the Caymans with $150,000 in it. I might add, deposited within two weeks of the results being announced. She’s as guilty as sin.”
“You’ll have your chance to speak after I’ve finished,” Lechte said, his face flushed. “Don’t interrupt me again. I believe Vanessa. She’s honest, trustworthy and a major asset of this firm. She called me last night. She’s been interrogated by the SEC and FBI, and understandably, is severely stressed. She’s very concerned about the cost of legal representation. I told her not to worry. The firm will cover her legal fees and if necessary her bail.”
“You what?” Cromwell asked. “Haven’t you heard of bail bondsmen? Anyhow, from what I know bail won’t be a problem. The assistant district attorney is going to oppose it. The judge will remand her in custody.”
“I told you not to interrupt, Phillip,” Lechte said. “Her family doesn’t have the cash or assets to put up as security. Vanessa said that someone framed her. I don’t doubt her in the slightest. We have to support her.”
Tax partner Sandra Bishop, normally a supporter of Lechte’s said, “She not only opened a Caymans bank account. She opened a mailbox to hide her actions and the FBI found the keys hidden in her apartment.”
“How do you know that?” Lechte asked.
“I briefed partners about the seriousness of the situation,” Cromwell said.
“More like lobbied,” Lechte muttered.
“You had no right to commit the firm to paying her legal expenses or helping with bail,” Cromwell said. “She deserves everything that the law throws at her. The firm needs representation but only to distance ourselves from her. We might be facing a large claim against our professional indemnity policy. If that occurs, we’ll be facing significant increases in the cost of the cover. We don’t want that.”
Murmured assents echoed around the table.
“She’s not guilty,” Lechte said.
“In the unlikely case that that turns out to be true, we’ll reimburse her legal expenses,” Cromwell said. “We can’t be fairer than that.”
“Bullshit! You know she hasn’t got the money to pay for a decent defense. And if she can’t meet bail she’ll be incarcerated. You’re going to hang her out to dry,” Lechte said, his lips drawn in a thin line.
“There’s no need for vile language, Doug,” Cromwell responded. “My fellow partners, as you know, Doug has been lobbying to make this woman a partner for the past two years. It’s bad enough that she’s a senior manager but imagine where we would be had we admitted her to the partnership. We should think ourselves lucky.”
Dennis Morton, one of the Catholic bloc partners, said, “You’re too modest, Phillip. If it hadn’t been for you, she would most likely be a partner. The firm owes you a debt of gratitude.”
Hear, hears went around the table.
“We cannot be seen to be helping this woman. We must distance ourselves from her and her actions. Doug, because you gave an undertaking on behalf of the firm, we will honor it in respect of today’s hearing, but after today, she pays her own legal fees. Surely her family can’t be that poor.” Cromwell smirked.
“Damn you. That’s so unfair,” Lechte said.
“I didn’t interrupt you,” Cromwell said. “Please give me the same courtesy. We need to consider your role in this unsavory affair, Doug. You’re the partner responsible for this woman. A woman you have been promoting for partnership. I think you need to look at your position within the partnership. The honorable thing to do would be to resign.”
“As much as you’d like that, Phillip, it isn’t happening.” Lechte laughed.
“You’ve made a parlous error of judgment about this woman and the companies you assigned her to, yet you refuse to accept responsibility for your actions. You may not know this, but a two-thirds majority of the partners have the power to remove a delinquent partner. I think if I put it to the vote you’ll be clearing your office out today.”
“I do know about that clause,” Lechte said. “In the long and illustrious history of this firm it’s never been used. However, thirty days’ notice is required, and the partner in question has the right to have a written representation circulated to all partners prior to the meeting.”
“I thought you’d resign,” Cromwell said. “Don’t you have any pride? You’re just delaying the inevitable. I’ll have a notice circulated before the day is out.”
Lechte cast his eyes around the table. Most of the partners had their heads hung or were pretending to jot on their notepads. Phillip Cromwell beamed. He knew he had the numbers.
Despite the protestations of the assistant district attorney, the judge hearing the arraignment of Vanessa Hodge set bail. Unfortunately for Vanessa, the sum was five million dollars, and the judge might just as well have remanded her in custody. Her lawyers promised to appeal the amount, but she would be spending the weekend in Richter’s cells.
Todd Hansen was feeling sick with guilt when his prepaid cell phone rang. “Coffee shop, 7:30 tonight,” Elliot said and hung up before Todd could reply.
Ferguson was waiting in the alley, and Todd lifted his hands above his head while the thug patted him down. Elliot was sitting at his usual table and smiled broadly at Todd. “Hello, kid.”
“What do you want?”
“That’s no way to talk to a friend. I wanted to let you know; you don’t need to worry. You’re not suspected. We’re taking care of you.”
“You’re no friend, and I know what you’ve done to Vanessa. If the idiots you work for hadn’t of got greedy, the SEC would’ve been none the wiser. Why did you frame her? They would’ve never traced the leaks to me.”
“Jeez, you’re not very grateful. We did it to protect you. We just didn’t want to run the risk that you might get caught. We were looking after you.”
“Liar! You wanted to make sure I’d be around to help you in the future. You’ve put a good person in jail. I feel sick.”
“Not that sick that you’d exchange places with her, though.” Elliot grinned. “I just wanted to remind you to keep your head down. There’s nothing you can do to help the girl. I know you feel guilty but don’t do anything stupid. That way you and your precious parents will stay healthy.”
“The partner I report to knows it wasn’t Vanessa. He spent the afternoon questioning the employees who report to her. It’s only a matter of time before he gets to me. Oh, and he’s briefed a firm of private investigators.”
“From what I hear he’s not going to be a partner for much longer.” Elliot sneered. “The only way he can find anything out is if you do something stupid. When he or his gumshoes question you, just make sure you say nothing. He hasn’t got a clue. Remember, relieving your conscience will put your parents in a coffin. That’s guaranteed.”
“If that’s all you wanted to see me about, I’m out of here,” Todd said. “I don’t like the stench.”
Todd sat in the cab on the way back to his apartment racked with shame. He couldn’t stop thinking about Vanessa. Was she in a cell by herself or were there twenty other women with her as was so often depicted in
Law & Order?
How was she being treated? Was she distressed? How was her family coping? It was so unfair. Todd was no longer worried about himself and had an overwhelming desire to confess and free Vanessa. Only his concern for his parents and the image of what had happened to Giovani stopped him.
Devlin Cooper had been dreading this day. At 6:30 A.M. his prepaid cell phone rang, and a menacing, ethnic voice said, “You’ll either have the Bulldogs or the Devils in the second week of the playoffs. You know what you have to do.”
“I told you, I can’t. Not in the playoffs. It’s too obvious. Too many people will know.”
“And I told you what to do last time we talked. You just have to take a bigger beating. You’re a tough guy. You can handle it.”
“You don’t understand the game,” Cooper said. “My ribs got broken against the Pirates, but I played on. What happens if I get sacked and break an arm or leg? Have you thought about that?”
There was a long pause. “No, I haven’t, smartass. Why don’t you tell me what happens?”
“They carry me off and replacement quarterback Jeff Sweeny will replace me. He played while my ribs were healing. The Cougars didn’t lose a game. If I get seriously hurt, and Sweeny replaces me, the Cougars will still win.”
There was a longer pause. “I’ll get back to you.”
Cooper put the cell phone back in his pocket and sighed. He’d lost twelve pounds, wasn’t sleeping, was irritable. He had no patience left. He was playing poorly, and Sweeny was putting huge pressure on him. His family still hadn’t forgiven him for the tantrum he had thrown at the barbecue. Worst of all, Coach Tom Deacon had told him that he knew something was wrong, and he should share his problem.
Well, it’s like this, coach, I was fucking your wife, and some low-life filmed me and now I’m being blackmailed.
Cooper felt himself start to color. Tom Deacon had been like a father to him and didn’t deserve thoughts like that. He sat on the edge of his bed, his head between his knees and wept. What was he going to do? There was no way out. He desperately needed a drink.
It took less than five minutes for the judge to dismiss Vanessa Hodge’s lawyer’s appeal against the five million dollar bail. They had appealed to the judge, saying that it might be up to a year before the case got to trial and that it was unfair to imprison Vanessa. The judge responded by saying he was very busy with more than a hundred cases on his docket and that he hadn’t imprisoned her. It wasn’t his problem if she couldn’t raise the bail.
Todd Hansen had had a dreadful weekend and had been unable to block Vanessa from his mind. He had awoken from a restless sleep on Monday morning praying that the judge would reduce her bail to a manageable sum. When he heard that Vanessa had been taken back to the cells at Richter’s, he had gone to the bathroom and vomited again. Tears filled his eyes.
When Todd got back to his cubicle, Doug Lechte’s PA was waiting for him. “Mr. Lechte wants to see you,” she said.
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” Todd said, knowing he’d need a few minutes to compose himself.
“Now! If it wasn’t urgent, I wouldn’t be here.”
The door to Lechte’s office was closed. “Does he have someone with him?” Todd asked.
“No, go in.”
Lechte’s shirt was rolled up to the elbows; his collar was undone, and the knot in his tie sat a few inches below it. His eyes were red, and it didn’t look like he had slept. There were no smiles or greetings, and he just nodded to a chair. “I was at the Giants/Cowboys game a few weeks back with Max Lustig. He told me that I wasn’t paying you enough because he saw you coming out of a pawn shop in Chinatown.”
“I-I−”
Lechte held his hand up. “I’m not finished. Max said it could’ve been worse because it’s a front for an illegal betting parlor. He said he couldn’t think of a worse combination than an accountant and a betting parlor. I laughed and told him he’d made a mistake. Max got a little feisty with me and said that there was nothing wrong with his eyes. I was sure he was wrong, but I didn’t argue and just forgot about it. It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but−”
Again Lechte raised his hand. His eyes were slits, his face was red, his lips compressed and he was flexing his meaty forearms. “You weren’t at the pawn shop. You were at the betting parlor, and when you walked out, you were in the hole for more than half a million dollars.”
“How-how do you know?”
“The investigators I’m using have some of New York’s former finest on their payroll. They can be very persuasive. It was you, wasn’t it, Todd? It was you who leaked those results. How could you let Vanessa take the fall?” Lechte asked in a menacing whisper.
Todd was drained. His face was stark white, and he was trembling. “I-I had to,” he said. “They said they’d kill my parents.”
“They were bluffing,” Lechte said.
“No, no, I saw them kill someone.” Todd gulped.
“Why don’t you tell me about your involvement? Don’t leave anything out.”
Half an hour later Todd was exhausted but felt the best he had in months.
“You should have come to me when you needed the money,” Lechte said shaking his head. “You’re going to go to prison. I’m going to call the SEC investigator, Aaron Lord. He can take your confession, and we can free Vanessa.”
“I-I-I’m sorry, I can’t confess. You can tell Lord what you’ve discovered. That should be more than enough to free Vanessa, but I can’t admit anything. I can’t breathe a word. They’ll kill my parents.”
“They’ll already know that we’re on to you. That little weasel at the betting parlor will have tipped them off. Let’s get Aaron Lord to come in,” Lechte said, “three heads are better than one, and he might have some ideas.”
Lord listened in silence as Todd repeated his story and after he was finished said, “You’re going to jail for a long, long time.”
“I told him that,” Lechte said.
“Tell me about Elliot, Ferguson and Fraser again,” Lord said.
After Todd had finished, Lord asked, “Did they ever mention anyone else? Did they say who their bosses were?”
“No,” Todd replied.
“They set you up from the start,” Lord said. “They’re just lackeys, and the guy from the betting parlor is probably in with them. The people they work for are very smart. I’d give my eyeteeth to know who they are. What was Giovani’s surname?”
“They never said.”
“Think,” Lord said, “they must have said something.”
“No, no, nothing. Wait! When Elliot saw him, he called him the fucking stockbroker.”
“Good, good. Anything else you can remember. Scars, birthmarks, limps…anything different?”
“Yes,” Todd said, “tiny tattoos on the inside of his wrists. Dollar bills.”
Lechte hadn’t said anything for a few minutes. “Aaron, Todd might be able to give you the big fish you’re after. Maybe you could cut him a deal.”
“No,” Todd said, “you can charge me but I’m not confessing, and I can’t help you. If my mom or dad get killed because of me, I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
“What type of deal?” Lord asked.
“Mutually beneficial of course.” Lechte smiled grimly.
Karen Deacon’s text message had been short.
Coffee shop tomorrow. Same time as last.
Cooper was ten minutes early and hidden behind a copy of
USA Today
when he heard, “Knock, knock,” and looked up to see Karen.
“Hi.” He smiled. “I’ve ordered. I told the waiter to bring the coffees as soon as my friend arrived.”
“My friend. Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful if it was true,” Karen said. “Devlin, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our situation. I’m leaving Tom. I don’t want to, but I don’t have a choice.”
“I don’t understand. You said you were going to stay. You said that you were too old to move in with me.”
Karen gave a feeble laugh. “Devlin, didn’t I teach you anything? No woman would ever say she was too old. I said you were too young. There is a huge difference. Oh, and I’m not looking to move in with you.”
“Why, then?”
“It’s only a matter of time before that CD goes public. It might be six months, it might be five years, it might even be ten but in the end the whole world’s going to see it. I can’t be sharing a bed with Tom when that happens. He doesn’t deserve that. I thought about leaving the kids with him, but I can’t. I love them too much. I’m selfish.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You need to think about your own circumstances. You’re going to take some terrible beatings, and if you get exposed, you’ll never play again. Worse, you’ll almost certainly go to jail.”
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. It sounds like you’re telling me not to tank. You know what that will mean.”
“I do. I think we’re both just delaying the inevitable.”
“I’m sorry. I still don’t understand. It’s going to be far worse for you. Your kids are going to go through hell. Why did you feel the need to tell me that you’re leaving Tom?”
“Oh, Devlin, you’re so young,” Karen said, putting her hand on his forearm. “You said so long as you did what they told you to, they’d honor their word. They won’t! That’s what I needed to tell you. Think about it. It might be better if you tell them to go to hell now, rather than ruining the rest of your life.”
“You’re leaving Tom to give me that option.”
“That sounds very noble, but I’m not just doing it for you. It’s better for everyone. I’m going now. I don’t think we should meet again.”
After Karen had gone, Devlin pushed his empty cup from hand to hand. His mind was made up. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing his family dishonored.