Rebels and Thieves

by Russell Williams

  “We just had a major victory today, didn’t we?”

  “I want to see it for myself. Print the trade log from the brokerage account.”

  Kemp hated people telling him what to do. “No, just take my word for it.”

  “I’m only going to tell you one.” He unbuttoned his gray blazer, and Kemp could see a nine millimeter strapped to his waist. “I never give people a second chance to listen to me.”

  “Settle down.” Kemp printed the trade log, and hand it to him. “There it is.”

  “You better keep beating the system.”

  “I’m a master at this. I’ve got everything under control.” Kemp received a text message, letting him know he’d received an encrypted PDF file. Violating insider trading laws, Sutton and Associates had sent him another illegal file. He felt the adrenaline shooting through his veins. It felt like there were a thousand particles of electricity in the air, making every hair on his body stand on end. He downloaded the secret file and read it. Prepared to profit from the illegal information, he studied his holdings, paying particular attention to the six hundred thousand shares he’d purchased of Streamline Pharmaceuticals with the mob’s money. Excited the acquisition was about to be made public knowledge, he looked toward the back of his office, at a fifty-two-inch flat-screen television, tuned to the business channel.

  Basov rested his hand on his nine millimeter. “For your sake, I hope you’re right.”

  “Take it easy.” Kemp wiped the sweat off his forehead. He was relieved Sutton and Associates had come through for him. “It looks like lightning is about to strike twice.”

  “Talk is cheap.” An angry look crossed Basov’s face. “I only care about getting results.”

  “I just heard from a reliable source that a big story is about to break.”

  “What’s taking so long?”

  “Don’t worry about. I’m going to make another killing in the market for us.”

  Basov’s face grew stern. “What are we looking at, in terms of profits?”

  “About ninety percent, I think.” Kemp raised his chin. “But it could be more.”

  “You’d better not be feeding me a line of crap.” He drew the nine millimeter from his holster and screwed a silencer onto the end of it. “Where’s the announcement?”

  Kemp pointed at the back of the room. “Feast your eyes on the main event.”

  On the business channel, there was breaking news. One of the business journalists reported that at Abbott Laboratories was acquiring Streamline Pharmaceuticals for one point five billion dollars. This valued the target company at approximately thirty one dollars a share, a premium of fourteen dollars and eighty-five cents. Streamline Pharmaceuticals’ stock jumped to eighty-nine percent to thirty dollars and fifty-nine cents per share.

  “I’m selling six hundred thousand shares of Streamline Pharmaceuticals,” Kemp said, his voice trembling with excitement. “At approximately thirty dollars and forty cents per share.”

  “How much did you pay for them?”

  “Around sixteen bucks per share, I think. Plus or minus a few cents either way.”

  Basov gave him a wide grin. “You knocked it out of the ballpark.”

  Kemp took a moment to put things into perspective. He hated the guy’s guts, but he still needed his money. “I just made a killing for us again. And I’m just getting warmed up.”

  “I’m starting to think you’re on the level. I mean, you’re not an idiot, after all.”

  “Are we going to do the big deal together?” Kemp slid to the edge of his seat, holding his breath. He needed his help to pull off a diabolical plot, one that would cause massive panic on Wall Street and make them a fortune in the process.

  “I like the plan.” Basov put away his gun. “I’ll take things to the next level.”

  Kemp rubbed his hand together. “Everything is finally coming together.”

  “I’ll give the order this afternoon.”

  Kemp felt a surge of excitement. Provided everything went as planned, he wouldn’t have to work another day in his life. “Are you going to get me the additional funds?”

  “I’ll get the family to give you two hundred million dollars for the scheme.”

  Kemp breathed a deep sigh of relief. “We’re going to make history together.”

  “Everything better happen like clockwork.”

  Kemp felt a chill of terror. With this amount of money on the line, he knew one wrong move would cost him his life. “I won’t drop the ball.”

  “You’d better not. Or you’ll be wearing concrete shoes.”

  Kemp opened his top desk drawer, looked at his passport, and a one way plane ticket. After pulling off one of the biggest heist of the twenty-first century, he looked forward to getting thirty-three percent of the capital gains they made together. Selfish by nature, driven by an excessive form of greed, he didn’t care how many people died in the process. The United States didn’t have an extradition treaty with Morocco. Determined to escape from the judicial system, he intended to flee there, where he would engage in various business activities and continue to live a lavish lifestyle.

  Chapter 26

  Congress Avenue was lined with stores, restaurants, and office buildings. On either side of the street, people walked up and down the sidewalks, some talking on their cell phones, others window shopping. Next a group of palm trees were the law offices of Tucker & Sutton Associates. Malone parked his unmarked police car across the street, behind a long line of cars. Unfastening his seat belt, he looked over at Peterson, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

  “Mr. Sutton is coming out at noon,” Malone said. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

  “We need a break in this case,” Peterson said.

  “You can say that again. I’m tired treating him with kid gloves.”

  “Do you think Mr. Sutton will get the incriminating evidence for us?”

  Malone was cautiously optimistic. He hoped this would be a turning point in their case. “He seems determined to. I’d love to rub Kemp’s nose in it.”

  “He could get cold feet, you know. Decide to leave us high and dry, so to speak.”

  “No, he has cancer and wants to come clean before he dies.” Malone shook his head. Not only was Sutton pissed at his business partner for screwing him over, but he also wanted to get even with him for screwing his wife. This gave him the perfect opportunity to settle the score.

  Peterson met his gaze. “You can’t blame him, can you?”

  “Coming clean is the best policy. Too bad it took him so long to come to his senses.”

  “If you know you’re going to die, it will change the way you lead your life.”

  Malone considered this for a moment. “I guess so.”

  “Do you ever think about your own mortality?”

  “I’ve got too many other things on my mind.” Malone shifted uncomfortable in his seat. Even though the air conditioning was on full blast, he felt sweat rolling down his back. He lowered the sun visor and buzzed down the driver side window. He lit a cigarette, inhaled the tar into his lungs, and blew out a cloud of smoke.

  “I’m just being a good Catholic, that’s all.”

  “Focus on being a good detective, will you?”

  Peterson gave him a quick smile. “I’m multitasking. I can do both at the same time.”

  “You never give up, do you?”

  “Everyone should live their life like each day could be their last.”

  “Life is difficult. That’s why they call it the school of hard knocks.” Malone thought about his wife, and he felt his gut tighten. He couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without her. Even though he tried not to think about her, she was on his mind, twenty-four-seven.

  “If you only had a few months to live, what would you change about yourself?”

  “I would try to be a better husband, I guess.” Malone rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t know how he was going to put the pieces of his marriage back together.r />
  Peterson looked concerned. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No, I’m trying to put it out of my mind.” Malone took another drag on his cigarette. Outside, on the sidewalk, a man stopped walking his dog. The dog stood in the grass, its backside low to the ground, straining to go to the bathroom. A woman stopped in front of the man, looked at the dog, and pointed at the ground. She put her hands on her hips, as if to say aren’t you going to clean up after your dog. The man shrugged his shoulders and walked away from her. The woman stormed off in the opposite direction, shaking her head and muttering to herself. Malone got a kick out of the scene. It was so easy for people to get pissed off at each other. It was human nature, he supposed.

  “People have to pay a price for their actions, either in this life or in the next.”

  Malone looked at her. “There’s going to be a lot of unhappy people. That includes me.”

  “The afterlife is real and it’s something everyone should think about.”

  “Does it look like I’m in a pew right now, searching for the meaning of life?” Malone looked back out the window. He hadn’t lived a perfect life, that’s for sure. If he had to do it all over again, there were a lot of things he would do differently. After he kicked the bucket, he didn’t want to think about where he may end up.

  “I’m killing time, that’s all. I just wanted to pick your brain.”

  “We’re on a stakeout, not at a Saturday night Mass.”

  Peterson looked at alarmed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you so upset.”

  Malone looked out the window. He thought his partner spent too much time thinking about things that couldn’t be proven. “You should have been a nun, for crying out loud.”

  “I’m just saying I believe in a supreme being, a higher power that watches over us.”

  Malone took another drag on his cigarette. Outside, on the sidewalk, a couple stopped walking and faced each other. The man whispered something to the woman. She laughed, put her hands on his hips, and batted her eyes. The man bent over and kissed her. She batted her eyes. The man bent over and kissed her again, this time giving her a long, passionate kiss. Malone couldn’t help but to think about his wife again. He wished he could hold her in his arms. For the time being, he forced himself to not think about her.

  Peterson went on, “I believe he’s a good God. It’s important to seek—”

  Malone cut her off. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to confront Kemp today.”

  “That depends on the evidence. On how incriminating it is.”

  Malone had a lot of confidence in his plan. “Mr. Sutton isn’t going to let us down.”

  “Do you think Kemp killed Roberts in Lemon City Park?”

  Malone reflected on the comment. He knew criminals went to great lengths to hide their crimes. “That how I figure it.” Malone took another drag on his cigarette and blew out a trail of smoke. “Roberts was probably going to turn him in for insider trading.”

  “Kemp may have hired someone else to do it.”

  “At the least, Kemp conspired to commit a murder. And that carries a long jail sentence.”

  Peterson gave him a thoughtful look. “It’s going to feel good to put him away.”

  “It’s already half past noon. I’m going to head in there in a few minutes.”

  “I think you should wait a little longer.”

  Malone flicked the cigarette outside the window. Three black birds landed on the sidewalk. One of the birds moved across the grass, while the other two birds stood still. A little boy ran up to the birds, clapped his hands, and they flew away. The little boy looked up, staring at the birds, sitting on a high tree branch. Rubbing his eyes, he burst into tears. His mother seized his hand and they disappeared into the crowd. Malone couldn’t help but crack a smile. Perhaps that was one of the main reasons he went into law enforcement—to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. He felt responsible to keep the public safe from businesses like Black Capital Investments and Tucker & Sutton Associates.

  Peterson went on, “Don’t rush things. He’s probably going to come out any second.”

  Malone wasn’t going to take any chances. “Or maybe he won’t.”

  “You think there’s a problem, don’t you?”

  “It’s hard to tell. But I’m not going to stick around and find out.”

  “You’re going to blow your cover.”

  Malone wasn’t the slightest bit concerned. With his knowledge of economics, finance, and banking, he intended to pull the wall over their eyes. “I’ll just say I’m starting a business. I’ll inquire about the Articles of Incorporation.”

  Peterson grinned. “Just looking for some friendly legal advice, huh?”

  “That’s right. If I’m not back in ten minutes, come in after me.”

  Malone got out of the unmarked police car, crossed the street, and stood in front of the law offices of Tucker & Sutton Associates. Through the double glass doors, he saw several people, all sitting behind their desks, apparently working. As he was about to enter the building, a bomb exploded. The incredible blast knocked him off his feet. He landed on the sidewalk, the back of his head slamming against the hard pavement. Giant flames engulfed the entire building, sending black smoke pouring out of the shattered windows and what was left of the front door. A second bomb went off, reducing the building to a pile of rubble. Just as Malone was about to lose consciousness, he saw a black stretch limousine stop in the middle of the street. The back window slid down and Kemp stuck his head out, a huge grin on his face, obviously admiring the damage.

  Chapter 27

  With a tight knot in her stomach, Peterson walked into Lieutenant Harper’s glassed-in office. Whenever she was summoned to his office, she prepared herself for bad news. Driven by department politics, her boss would want to know everything about the current investigation. But as soon as he found out that there were no new leads in the case, he would read her the riot act. Determined to be promoted up through the ranks, her boss expected his department to clear cases. He cared about the numbers, the amount of cases that his department solved under his leadership. Peterson sat in one of the visitor’s chairs in front of his desk and crossed her legs.

  “How is Malone holding up?” Harper asked.

  “Not good. He’s in the hospital right now, undergoing medical tests.”

  Harper shook his head. “How did this happen, for crying out loud.”

  “There was an explosion downtown, at a law office.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Harper sounded angry. “Five people are dead.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

  “You’re investigating this case, aren’t you?”

  Peterson was having a hard time concentrating. Ever since the bomb went off downtown, she couldn’t stop worrying about her partner’s medical condition. “I’m a little preoccupied right now, Lieutenant. I’ve been through the ringer.”

  “You should have known about the deaths. It’s being broadcast on every news channel.”

  “Give me a break, will you? I’m worried about my partner.”

  Harper’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not the only one who’s upset. Get on with the story.”

  “We found a link between Tucker & Sutton Associates and Black Capital Investments.”

  Harper raked his fingers through his thick white hair. Visibly upset, he opened the top drawer of his desk and grabbed a few Tylenol tablets. Popping them into his mouth, he picked up his coffee mug and washed them down. He leaned forward, resting his thick forearms on his desk, and clasped his hands in front of him. “Did you say something about a link?”

  “That’s right, Lieutenant. We know they’ve been working together.”

  “You’d better have something more concrete than that.”

  “We think the two entities are engaged in a sophisticated insider trading scheme.”

  Harper shook his finger at her. “I don’t care about what you think.”

 
; Peterson’s mind was racing. Despite all the time she’d put in on this case, she didn’t have a shred of evidence to give him. “I know Kemp invested in drug companies, based on private merger documents.”

  “Like I said before, show me proof.”

  “I know they’re dirty, Lieutenant. There’s no doubt about that.”

  “Stop dancing around the issue.” Harper’s voice was firm. “Give me the evidence.”

  “That’s going to be a problem. You see, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Harper gave her a sinister look. “I don’t like the sound of this. Not one damn bit.”

  “We don’t have any evidence. No documents. We lost everything in the explosion.”

  Harper slammed his hand on the desk. He shoved a stack of papers onto the floor and grabbed a copy of today’s newspaper. Gritting his teeth, he laid it in front of the detective. “You haven’t read the front page yet, have you?”

  Peterson swallowed hard. “No, I haven’t.”

  “The Miami Harold says it’s the Russians, organized crime. The FBI seems to agree.”

  “Don’t let the FBI in on this, Lieutenant. This isn’t there case. It’s ours.”

  Harper’s mouth tightened. “You don’t expect me to tell the Feds to back off, do you?”

  “Yes, I do, Lieutenant.”

  “Oh, come on, Peterson. Get real. A hunch doesn’t mean anything to them.”

  “We have a hell of lot more than that. And you know it.” Peterson’s head was spinning. She could have gone inside Tucker & Sutton Associates, instead of her partner. Regardless of the amount of pressure the lieutenant was putting on her, she wasn’t going to back down from him. Screw it, she thought. Let him fire me if he wants to.

  “Do you have any evidence on the two homicides associated with the investment firm?”

  “No, we don’t. But we’re getting close.”