Bitcoin Bandits

by Chris Kale

  “So, this is in the hands of the police now?” she asked. “We can’t tell them what we know, not in this country.”

  “What country would you prefer?” He laughed. He didn’t get the response he was looking for.

  “Australia, Sweden, Thailand, Canada,” she said with her eyes wild, pulling her vape pen from her jacket pocket. “Not fucking Korea, the U.S., China or India please.”

  He took a quick step back in surprise from her enthusiasm. She is emotionally invested in this. It was real for her now. As it was for him too. “Hey, sorry,” he said. “I’m not exactly used to working with people like this. I mean. . . I’ve never been in this situation before. Not with a murder like this.”

  “I suppose neither have I.” She brushed her hair back behind her ear.

  They continued walking past the droves of business people and tourists beneath the towering buildings, lit in vibrant light even at this time in the early afternoon on this day growing warmer with each passing minute.

  “OK,” he said. “Let's change the subject for a minute, clear our heads. Why in the world would BitX offer fiat currency at today’s prices regardless of how much the investors bought in at?”

  “It's going to skyrocket soon, the market cap that is,” she said, not even looking at him.

  “What? How would you know that?” Does she know market analysis too? Or does she have some inside information?

  “Haven’t you looked at the charts?” she asked, staring with a condescending look into his eyes, and with a brief snicker. “You didn’t see the cycles?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I saw them and heard a bit about them from some kid on YouTube. The markets move quickly in crypto, but that could also just be because of the small amount of money invested in it versus something like the S&P five hundred—or gold.”

  “You watch, after this is all shaken out,” she said, with surety in her breath. “Give it a couple of months. Two-thousand percent gains at least. All of these poor losers who lost their money are gonna be scared and walk with their fiat.”

  “Sounds like a good time to buy in though,” he said. “I assume you’ll strike it rich.” He wanted to laugh again, but held it in, trying to read her.

  “Getting rich isn’t the goal,” she said. “Sure, I own a little, but it’s more about freedom from institutions and governments, and the principle. I’m not selling ever. I just spend it instead of cash.”

  Thomas couldn’t deny, he liked the sound of that. Even if he’d made a semi-handsome living off the dividends and interest from past investments himself.

  “Back to the subject at hand.” Freyja turned the corner around a street light. “If the killer has the drive. He probably just gave it off to his boss, or bosses.”

  “Safe assumption,” Thomas said. “Unless the killer was on the inside and wanted the money for him or herself.”

  “I think it’s a safe assumption it's a him,” she said. “How many woman murderers do you think stab someone slowly to death?”

  “I’m sure there’s at least one out there.” He thought of the movie Monster with Charlize Theron, and the brutal murders the woman committed.

  “You done?” she asked. “The guy who killed Joon. He wanted the money, or the seed phrase to get the money back. I think it's safe to say he wasn’t there for just the USB drive—as to say—he wasn’t in the same place we are. The killer could have just broken in and stolen the drive when Joon wasn’t there. I think he was trying to get Joon to spell out exactly how to get the money back.”

  “So, we either have a sociopathic crypto-hacker, or the killer is working for someone. I’m willing to bet the latter,” he said. “We have to find out who was after the money, after it was taken. Or who tried to take it in the first place but was bested by Joon.”

  “Where would we start with that?” she asked. “All I can see on my screen is where the money was moved. Sure, I checked into BitX, and it's greasy, real greasy, even if it is decentralized.”

  “Perhaps it’s time I had another talk with Li Wei,” he said. “Like I said before, I got a strong feeling he wasn’t telling me everything. This time, I think I’m going to have to get a bad cop in with me.” His first thoughts went to Ron, who he didn’t picture being much in that role, but he honestly thought that detective Soo-Jin might be good, if he didn’t mind getting aggressive. It wouldn’t hurt if someone spoke Korean in the meeting too.

  “Li couldn’t be the killer, right?” Freyja asked, her eyebrow ring and dimple ring flickering in the golden sunlight.

  “Nah,” Thomas said. “Not unless he’s like the Tim Bundy type. The super-rare type. He’s too in love with money. It’s probably just some sick son of a bitch who comes out only in the shadows of night. Mafia-type. You know, like Luca Brasi from the Godfather movies. You’re probably too young to have seen that movie.”

  “Nope,” she said with a rare smile. “It’s one of my favorites.” And in a terrible Italian accent, she went on, “It means Luca Brasi swims with the fishes.”

  It took quite a bit of integrity for him to not burst into laughter. It almost sounded in her accent like a dumb American trying to flounder through a classic line from the Seven Samurai, in Japanese. He chuckled but didn’t laugh. “I’m impressed. A film buff.”

  She looked away. “We’re going to have plenty of time to catch up on old films if we don’t find out who has the drive.”

  He sighed. He knew she was right. There wasn’t much else they could do except become murder investigators themselves and solve a case the trained professionals here in Seoul couldn’t. . . Again, he felt her warm skin, this time clasped around his elbow. He turned to see her looking over past him, behind him even. Her green eyes were wide, glaring, almost in fear, almost in excitement. He didn’t know her well enough to tell yet. Thomas expected the killer himself to be standing right behind him—and in fact—he wasn’t that far off.

  “Thomas. . .” she said, in a voice that signaled her surprise.

  Now, fully turned about, he released her grip with a calming shrug and wave of his hand. They both approached what she was looking at together. It was a small stand selling Korean ice cream, but what was really enticing wasn’t the sugar-laden creamy delicacies inside. No. It was a flickering small TV attended to by an elderly woman fanning herself inside the covered cart on the side of the sidewalk.

  “I’ll be damned,” Thomas said, inching his way closer.

  “I saw Joon’s face on the screen, but now it’s this man. Could it be him?” she asked, gliding next to him to the cart.

  It didn’t take long for Thomas to recognize the strong, bald man’s face on the screen. He then looked around at the passersby with urgency.

  “You speak English?” he asked a young couple walking by, who ignored him. “You?” he asked every person he could that was speeding by.

  Eventually one person said, “Yes. Are you OK?” It was a young Korean woman wearing a red skirt and white shirt. Her look was puzzled, yet vaguely concerned by her open lips and raised eyebrows.

  “You speak Korean?” Thomas asked. She nodded. “Can you please do me a favor and tell me what the person on the news is saying on that TV over there? Please?”

  She held a puzzled look on her face, with her mouth slightly agape, but then after looking at Freyja who seemed to be with Thomas, she nodded and walked over to the ice cream cart. She stared at the screen a few moments.

  “There’s been a murder,” the young woman said.

  “What about the bald man?” Thomas asked. “What are they saying about him?”

  “He’s the one they think did the murder,” she said with her hand covering her mouth.

  “Thank you,” Freyja said to her. “Would you like some ice cream for your help?”

  She shook her head, only wanting to be on her way.

  “You know that man?” Freyja asked.

  He nodded. “He was the head of security for BitX. Niklas Wolf is his name.” His eyes narrowed. “Now,
I really need to have that conversation with Mr. Wei.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Back at the headquarters of BitX, Thomas shook hands with Soo-Jin Park, who had a strong handshake, bowing slightly as he squeezed. Shorter than Thomas, older by a couple of years, and much broader at the shoulders, Soo-Jin was a serious man Thomas could tell. He was an expert in his field, and work was an important thing to him. He wanted to find this Bitcoin too, and after the identity of the killer was released, he was eager to answer Thomas’ call.

  Their phone conversation lasted less than five minutes and consisted mostly of—we need to talk to Li Wei again.

  “So, you say you want to do a good cop/bad cop on Mr. Wei?” Soo-Jin asked as they made their way up the elevator.

  “That was my thinking.” Thomas put his hands in his pockets and stared up at the number of the increasing floors, glowing in green numbers. Green like money. “I got the feeling Li is holding something back. Now it’s evident.”

  “If you want,” Soo-Jin said, “but I don’t think it’ll be all that necessary. If Mr. Wei isn’t willing to fully cooperate with us now, he’s going to have to against a jury.”

  “Did you. . . ?” Thomas began, scratching his cheek. “Did you suspect Niklas as the murderer? How did you find out it was him? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “He was considered,” Soo-Jin said, “not a serious one though to be honest. The idea of having someone in the company murder Joon seemed. . . stupid. If you’re going to hire an assassin, hire from the outside. But no. . . it was an anonymous tip, but they had evidence.”

  “What evidence?” Thomas asked, eager to get the answer.

  “A photo of his car parked in the garage at Joon’s building that night, a picture that was digitally verified to have been taken that same night he was killed.”

  “What?” Thomas said with both eyebrows propped up. “Someone took a picture of his car? Someone did that on purpose. Whoever did that must have done it for collateral or something. Or someone out to get him.” He calmed himself as they neared Li’s floor. “What do you think it is?”

  “You’re probably right,” Soo-Jin said. “Some insurance to keep Niklas on a leash, or it was done to hide who was sent the dog off the leash.”

  The door dinged, and the green numbers froze about. Floor 20 they said.

  Soo-Jin motioned for Thomas to exit first, which he did with strong strides, and Soo-Jin followed. They skipped past the receptionist, who feigned her gaze away, not trying to stop them. Li’s secretary though, stood quickly, waving for them to wait.

  Looking past the glass though, Thomas met Li’s gaze from the other side. It wasn’t panic in his eyes; it was more like. . . concern.

  Soo-Jin pushed the door open and walked through as if it were his office. Li sat at his desk, looking like a frail man, slumped over, and worn with stress. His hair wasn’t as well-combed as normal, and his complexion was pale.

  “Detective,” Mr. Wei said, as Soo-Jin was standing before his desk with his strong arms behind his back, his hands clasping together.

  “Mr. Wei,” he said. “I’m sure you heard the news.”

  Li’s head slunk. “I can’t believe he killed him. He killed Joon in cold blood.” Li looked as if he was about to sob, as a teardrop made its way down his cheek. “I feel terrible about it. I should never have hired him.”

  “Where is he, Mr. Wei?” Soo-Jin asked. “Where is Niklas Wolf?”

  “I. . . I don’t know,” Li said, looking up at Soo-Jin, and by Thomas’ estimation—he was telling the truth.

  “How could you not know?” Soo-Jin asked, leaning forward and putting both bulky hands on the desk, glaring into Li’s eyes. Bad cop all right. “You don’t have a residence for him?”

  Li shook his head. “Niklas was the type of guy who lived. . . demanded privacy.” He sighed. “Now I know why. . . All I have is a cell phone number.”

  “Write it down please,” Soo-Jin said, pointing to a stack of papers at the corner of Li’s large, wooden desk. Li took a piece of paper and began to scribble the number from his cell phone.

  “You think it's still activated?” Thomas asked Soo-Jin.

  “No,” he replied, taking the note and placing it in his breast pocket. “But it may tell us where he’s been. He’s surely killed the phone now. His type could be halfway across the planet by now. We don’t have long to catch him if he’s still here.”

  “Mr. Wei,” Thomas said in a softer voice than what Soo-Jin had been using. “Why would Niklas kill Joon? Why would someone in your company—your head of security—go after the missing Bitcoins?”

  “To be clear, I fired Niklas before I heard the news, and I’ve been trying to figure out the answer to that very question ever since I heard,” Li said. “The most logical explanation is that he wanted it for himself.”

  Thomas thought about that for a moment; he didn’t know Niklas, but he didn’t come off at first glance like the type who wanted vast sums of wealth. No, but he got that impression from the weak man sitting behind the desk now.

  “Do you think Joon stole the crypto?” Thomas asked flat out.

  “He obviously had something to do with it,” Li said. “He knew where it was and moved it. I don’t know for sure if he was the one to first steal it, but he was the one who moved it to those separate wallets. And to be honest, he was already rich. Not billions rich, but rich enough for a twenty-two-year-old genius. He wasn’t the type to steal or cheat. If anything, he was an altruist about the nature and idea of cryptocurrency. He believed in it so much he died because of it. No, I don’t think it was his idea to steal it.” Thomas caught a slight shakiness in Li’s eyes, and he wondered if Soo-Jin noticed it too.

  “Do you think he would have told Niklas how to get the crypto?” Thomas asked. “Under the torture he was being subjected to?”

  “He was young, but he was strong-willed and stubborn,” Li said, “but he sure didn’t want to die.” Li’s eyes grew wet again. “I think he would’ve held out until his end. If he divulged the seeds to Niklas, the funds would have been moved immediately again.” Thomas believed him, and it made sense, unless this was some sort of grand conspiracy. But he knew that when it came to the financial crash of 2008, it most certainly was a grand conspiracy to rob the American people themselves—and the bankers walked. They fucking walked and got bailed out by taxpayer money. Maybe this is a cover-up? A conspiracy. . .

  Then, Thomas had the gut feeling that something wasn’t right. All of a sudden, he wasn’t buying Li’s soft heart. He was no murder detective, but what he said next sent Soo-Jin’s dark eyes on him.

  Thomas asked Mr. Wei in an unwavering voice, “Did you send Niklas Wolf to kill Joon Chang-Min?”

  Li’s jaw nearly hit the floor, and his fingers looked like they were about to claw right through the desk.

  “How dare you accuse me of something as evil as that,” Li said. “Of course not. There is absolutely no way I would have ever done that to Joon. He was my friend!” He stood up, his shoulders tightened and a vein bulged in his neck. He looked at Soo-Jin, “Are you OK with this? Wildly throwing slanderous accusations at me?”

  “It’s not slander, Mr. Wei.” Soo-Jin sighed. “It’s a question. And you gave an answer.”

  “You can stay,” Li said to Soo-Jin, and then looked to Thomas, “but I want you out of my office immediately. You’re supposed to be helping me get the stolen Bitcoins back, and I’ve not heard a single thing from you that makes me believe you’re finding any headway toward doing this.” He motioned for the door.

  “Thank you for your time.” Thomas bowed his head, and left the office, gently shutting the glass door behind him. All he was thinking about as he saw the secretary’s face glowering at him as he left was—how would I react if someone asked me if I murdered someone?

  Would I react with anger and resentment like he did? I don’t know, but I’m definitely going to ask Soo-Jin.

  He grabbed the cell from his pocket
and sent a message to Freyja: Li is only getting more curious to me. I’m not sure if he hired Niklas to kill Joon, but he knows more than he’s telling us.

  She responded quickly: Niklas must have the USB but doesn’t know what he has yet. We have to find where he’s keeping it before the police.

  “What?” Thomas said aloud, thinking, I’m not going after a mad killer!

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  In the lobby down below the twentieth floor, Thomas waited for Soo-Jin to join him. There were no protesters this day, or perhaps they were waiting until later in the day to organize. Security was in full force out there though by the street, ready to keep them at bay if they did indeed gather.

  He didn’t have to wait long for Soo-Jin, perhaps only fifteen minutes, and when Soo-Jin arrived, he wore a grin on his face that surprised Thomas. He’s really enjoyed something about that interview.

  “You’ve got some balls,” he said to Thomas, “for someone sent to track stolen funds.”

  Thomas flew past the detective’s enjoyment and asked, “What did you interpret from Li’s reaction?”

  “He was pissed,” Soo-Jin said, letting the smile fade. “He could be telling the truth or lying. The phone records from Niklas’ phone will hopefully shed some light of what’s really been going on. But. . . if you accused me of killing one of my friends, I may have done more to you than just send you out of my office. I’ve got to make a call.”

  He walked off, pulled his phone from his pocket, and pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket.

  The mystery remained in Thomas’ head. Did someone order Niklas to kill Joon, or was Niklas off the leash? He certainly hoped there’d be some texts, calls or voice mails they could get from his phone. But he thought of the encrypted phone he used with the SEC and he assumed Niklas wasn’t stupid enough to use a regular cell for his dirty business. Then he remembered Wyatt. There were things going on that he needed to inform his boss of, things not pertaining to Freyja.