Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller

by Colleen Cross

  “When did you determine Svensson was murdered?” Landers held his mike in front of the police officer. He wore jeans and a Gore-Tex jacket, unzipped.

  Kat’s mouth dropped open as she met Jace’s eyes. “Impossible. How can Landers be on TV? I just talked to him half an hour ago, holed up in the housekeeping room. We’re at least five miles from town.”

  “Maybe it was taped earlier,” Jace said. “He’d never be able to sneak in and out of the resort right now. Not with all the security around.”

  Jace spun around and grabbed a pen and paper off the desk. He started scribbling.

  Kat studied the screen.

  The police officer turned to Landers. “We suspected murder early on in the investigation, just didn’t have enough evidence. We now have several promising leads and hope to lay charges very soon.” Officer Kravitz squinted into the camera as the sunlight glinted off his nametag. He puffed out his chest and adjusted his belt.

  Kat turned to Jace. “First suicide, and now a murder? I wonder if they actually have a suspect?”

  Jace ignored her, mesmerized by the television.

  “I’ll bet nothing this big has ever happened in Hideaway Bay,” Kat said. “First a world conference, and now all this international intrigue with the murder.” She still couldn’t believe the World Institute had chosen the sleepy hamlet for the conference. But maybe that was the attraction. It was close to an international airport, yet remote and difficult to reach, except by private plane. Under the radar.

  “The motive?” Landers was asking Kravitz.

  “We think it was a robbery. Hideaway Bay is a very safe place and I want to assure everyone that—”

  Jace switched off the television. “I need to meet this Landers guy. Let’s go.”

  Angelika’s unexpected visit unsettled Kat. Since when did housekeepers clean rooms at eight-thirty in the morning? The news on Svensson added a new twist, too. Was it related to his monetary policy theories or something else?

  As Kat stood, she noticed several cards on the carpet, jutting out from under the bed. She bent down to pick them up—a room key card and a MasterCard. They must have slipped from her pocket when she laced up her shoes.

  Jace saw them at the same time and motioned Kat to hand it over. She gave him the room key. He stretched the elastic cord attached to it between his fingers. “This isn’t our room key. It’s a different color. Where did you get this?”

  “It was in the pocket when I put on the uniform. It’s a master key.” Kat held out her hand and motioned with her fingers. “Can I have it back?”

  “How do you know it’s a master key?” Jace handed the key card to her and walked over to the bureau. “Wait a minute—are you breaking into rooms?”

  “Using a key isn’t breaking in.” She flashed what she hoped was her most charming smile. “How else do you think I got all this World Institute material?”

  “It’s not okay for me to snoop around, but you can pilfer from people’s rooms? Not fair.”

  “Remember why we’re here in the first place, Jace. Edgewater. I need to solve the case. Without you stirring things up.”

  “You talk about me doing questionable things...” Jace stood by the door, arms crossed.

  “Don’t act innocent with me. You do stuff like this all the time to get stories.”

  Kat hadn’t noticed the second card in her pocket. She studied the MasterCard. It had no customer name on it. Tiny writing above the MasterCard hologram read debit. It wasn’t a credit card at all, but a prepaid credit card instead. Prepaid cards were often used by people without credit ratings or bank accounts. She wondered if any cash remained on it. If so, the owner might look for her uniform.

  “You’re wrong, Kat. I’ve never stolen a uniform or master keys. You’re investigating one crime and committing another one to do it.”

  “I got the goods on Nathan, didn’t I?”

  “How exactly did you get it? You’re a little short on details. Even I wouldn’t sneak into someone’s room for a story.”

  “It’s not like I planned to. It just sort of—happened.” After all, Victoria had insisted she replenish the shampoo. Which she had forgotten to do, she realized. At least it gave her an excuse to return, if necessary.

  “Stuff like that doesn’t just happen.”

  Kat tapped her watch. “I’ll explain later. We’re late.”

  Ten minutes later, Kat and Jace returned to the room with Roger Landers. Landers sat in the desk chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Jace and Kat sat on the edge of the bed. The storage room had proven too cramped, and meeting there just heightened the risk of discovery.

  “Tell us what you know about Svensson’s murder,” Kat said.

  Landers didn’t answer. Instead he tilted his head back and drained his second cup of coffee in less than five minutes.

  Kat opened the mini-bar fridge and grabbed a can of Pringles. She tossed it to him.

  Landers caught the can with one hand and tore off the foil top. He wolfed down the chips like a starving animal. “Not much to tell. The police say the motive was robbery, which is ridiculous. A two- or three-hour hike from the middle of nowhere? Criminals usually like easier targets.”

  “When did you talk to the police?” Kat was certain the interview had been taped earlier, but when? The weather yesterday had been cloudy, and the sun at daybreak had quickly turned to cloud.

  “A while ago.”

  “Can you be more specific? Is this where your conspiracy theory sets in?”

  “It’s not a theory, Katerina. It’s fact.” Landers placed the almost empty Pringles can back on the table. “Svensson’s theories are the keystone of the World Institute’s mandate. The basis for his Nobel nomination. Until he backtracked, that is. Guess they didn’t like their star economist switching sides.”

  “You think the World Institute is involved in Svensson’s murder?” Jace asked.

  Why had she introduced Jace to a conspiracy theorist like Landers? Terrible mistake. Now both journalists smelled a story and would stop at nothing to get it.

  “How else can you explain it?”

  “There are lots of possibilities,” Kat said. “The police called it a robbery. Why aren’t they exploring your theory?” They were rapidly veering off track. The idea of quickly getting the goods on Nathan Barron was evaporating along with Kat’s patience.

  Landers scoffed. “In this hick town? The police haven’t a clue where to start for a murder investigation. Hideaway Bay’s biggest crimes are stolen canoes or cabin break-ins. It’s the perfect place for the World Institute to get away with murder.”

  “What’s the motive?” Jace asked.

  “To silence a dissenting voice,” Landers said. “Svensson was a World Institute member, yet he spoke out against their platform. Not only does he have cachet as a Nobel–nominated economist—he’s also the world’s leading expert in currency reform. He left them no choice.”

  “No choice?” Kat was surprised at Landers somehow rationalizing Svensson’s murder.

  “Not if they want to achieve their mandate.” Landers pulled his sweater off over his head, revealing a blue plaid shirt. “It’s stifling in here.”

  Kat walked over to the thermostat and notched it down. “Other World Institute members are also influential. All they had to do was discredit him. The World Institute has enough money and power to counteract his claims. They didn’t need to murder him.”

  Kat’s remarks fell on deaf ears. Landers and Jace stared at the television, transfixed by a story on CNN. Jace always had the news on; she barely noticed it anymore. She sighed and glanced at the television.

  A wealthy movie star cradled an Ethiopian baby in her arms. She couldn’t remember the star’s name, just her annual adoption forays to orphanages in African countries. Kat wondered: did the parents really want to give that infant up, or did they have to? What would it be like to deny your child a life of untold riches? Some choices really weren’t choices at all
.

  She glanced at Landers, wondering how he had become so obsessed with the World Institute. Despite covering the WI for ten years, his work had been largely discredited. She had discovered many unfavorable reviews and comments on his book when researching background on the Institute.

  Then she noticed Landers’s shirt. It was light blue; the same shirt he had worn on the ferry. Not the red shirt he had been wearing on television. So the interview had been taped after all. That, along with the difference in the weather, was significant. The clouds here contrasted with the sunny weather during Landers’s interview with the RCMP officer. Hideaway Bay was only a few miles away, certainly not enough to account for the difference in the weather.

  Given the interview must have happened earlier, when exactly did Svensson’s death change from a suicide into a murder investigation? And why hadn’t Landers mentioned it earlier? Despite her best efforts, she was getting sidetracked too.

  Chapter 31

  “Look at this.” Jace unclipped the documents and spread them out on the small table in their suite. He pointed to the first item on the agenda. “One global currency.”

  Kat shot him a sideways glance. They hadn’t discussed how much to show Landers, and she resented him showing the meeting documents without asking her. Five hours had passed since Landers arrived in their room, yet he still hadn’t shared any information of his own. All take and no give.

  “Where did you get these?” Landers bent over to study the documents. “They can’t be real.”

  “Of course they’re real.” Jace pulled the paper back like he’d been stung. “Straight from a World Institute delegate.”

  “Which one?” Landers looked up. “I’ve never been able to get my hands on any of their meeting materials before.”

  “That’s confidential.” Kat snatched the papers away just as Landers reached for them. It had been a mistake to invite Landers to their room. Now he knew their whereabouts, but had offered up nothing in return. She certainly wasn’t going to incriminate herself by revealing the papers she’d stolen from Nathan and Victoria’s room. She tried to catch Jace’s eye, but his head was down, engrossed with the agenda.

  “Even if it’s legit, it’s hardly news.” Landers tipped another handful of chips out of the Pringles canister. “One world currency has been on the World Institute’s hit list for years.”

  “Maybe as a theory, but now they’re ready to implement,” Jace said.

  “You don’t know that.” Landers brushed potato chip crumbs off his palms. “All the agenda shows are topics for discussion.”

  “We’ve got proof.” Jace pointed to one of the piles spread out on the table. The documents from Nathan’s room promised a treasure trove of information—if Kat could get some privacy to properly go through them. She’d barely gotten a glance as of yet. Jace, meanwhile, was just flipping through them—with Landers looking intently on. “They’ve got a pretty impressive media campaign here. They’re planning a financial meltdown. First, a debt crisis, which will devalue all major currencies. Initially Europe, then North America. Once those are underway, Asia and the rest of the world will follow.”

  “Let me see that.” Landers held out his hand.

  Jace looked at Kat.

  She tilted her head. Not now.

  Jace flipped through the documents. “Once currencies lose their value, a common global currency will be much more palatable. At the brink of disaster, The World Institute swoops in and saves everyone. No one will guess they orchestrated the whole thing themselves, or even question them. It’s a new wild west. Everyone who stakes a claim gets a piece.”

  Landers turned to Kat. “This is exactly what I’ve been predicting. Now do you understand the murder motive?”

  Kat shook her head, exasperated. She wasn’t a naïve sixth-grader. “That’s for the police to decide. I’m here to solve a fraud.”

  “It’s all related. You think this hick town police force even has the World Institute on its radar?” Landers didn’t wait for her answer. “They don’t have the sophistication or the manpower. We have to guide them. By exposing the WI’s mandate.”

  “We?” Kat said.

  “He’s right, Kat.” Jace pointed at the papers. “Pinslett and his cronies are part of a creeping media takeover. His conglomerate already owns sixty percent of the major newspapers in North America and Europe. He’s got television and radio stations, too. Between him and a couple of other guys, they control most of the significant global media. They only report what they want to.”

  “Only what they want us to hear. Money and information are two keys to power,” Landers added. “With it they can control politicians, governments, and society.”

  Kat felt bullied. She had lost Jace to a conspiracy theory nutcase.

  “First they engineered the European Union, then made a case for the Euro,” Landers said. “Their next step is to create the same thing in other world regions—North America, Asia, and South America.”

  “What about Africa?” Jace asked.

  “No need to do anything. At least that’s the World Institute’s view.” Landers grabbed another handful of Pringles. His eyes darted to the paper piles on the coffee table. “It’s already controlled or exploited—depending on your politics—by the rest of the world. There’s no stable, dominant currency to dismantle. Trade is mostly in greenbacks or Euros, and China’s got most of the natural resources locked up.”

  Everything Landers said was confirmed by last year’s meeting minutes. But why was it up to them to save the world? Maybe cutting off Landers’s food supply would make him go away. Judging by where the conversation was headed, it was probably too late.

  “Svensson’s argument last year was for a common global currency,” Jace said. “That’s why he was nominated for the Nobel. Then, just before he died, he changed his mind. A powerful murder motive. What I don’t get is—why all the secrecy? The Euro works. Why not put it to a vote?”

  Kat started to speak but realized an answer only fueled the discussion for another few hours. Instead she headed back to the fridge and opened it. She rummaged through mini-bar snacks. In the end she grabbed everything and dumped it on the table in a pile.

  Landers grabbed a Mars Bar and smiled at her. The CNN news anchor had switched to a story on household debt and instant gratification.

  “Not everyone’s in favor, Jace,” Landers said. “Most governments aren’t, since one global currency takes away their power. Only the dominant countries want it, because it removes trade barriers and lowers transaction and foreign exchange costs. They call the shots, so rules always end up in their favor. You’re practically forced into a common currency if you want those trade barriers to come down. But prices can increase dramatically when you switch. Suddenly you’re paying wages in a stronger currency. That drives up inflation.”

  “Which makes your domestic goods more expensive and less affordable.” Jace padded over to the window. The clouds outside had thickened, and the dark sky threatened to burst at any moment. “A good argument, but the pain’s just temporary. Instead of leveling the playing field, it makes it more unequal in the long run.”

  “That’s why Svensson changed his mind,” Landers said. “It’s too bad about the accident—I mean, murder. His was the only moderating voice.”

  “What proof do the police have that it’s murder?” Jace scribbled on his notepad.

  “Toxicology report. Coroner said he couldn’t have possibly made it there with the amount of drugs in his system.”

  “Maybe he took the drugs after he got there,” Jace said.

  “No. Another hiker saw him on the Summit trail at two p.m.” Landers unwrapped the last chocolate bar and bit into it. “He wasn’t impaired. The coroner’s report says he ingested the drugs around three p.m. Based on when the hiker passed him, he was still a few hours’ hike away from where he died. He couldn’t possibly make it there after taking the drugs. They were too powerful.”

  “Nobody else saw him?”
Kat had hiked the trail many times with Jace en route to Kurt’s cabin. There was heavy snowpack this time of year, and they often walked for hours without passing another soul.

  “No, although someone remembered seeing him with a woman earlier in the day,” Landers said. “Another snowshoeing hiker passed them. No one reported him missing until the next day. That’s when searchers retraced his steps and found him. A three-hundred-meter fall.”

  “I know that trail,” Jace said. “What about the woman? Who is she?”

  “Nobody knows. They never found her. There weren’t any cars in the parking lot, so she must have been okay,” Landers said.

  “No missing person report?” Kat knew the only way to get to the trailhead was by car. It was far too impractical for anyone to be dropped off. “Don’t you need a backcountry pass?”

  “You do,” Jace said. “But they don’t ask your name. There’s also no system to check who comes out. I know some of the search and rescue guys. I’ll find out what they know about it.” Kurt headed up the Hideaway Bay area search and rescue and would likely know the details.

  “Why would she leave without reporting anything?” Kat was suspicious. “Unless she was involved in the murder.”

  Landers pulled a pen and notebook from his back pocket. He rose and grabbed a pen from the desk when he couldn’t get his started. “Svensson’s change of mind didn’t go over well. His expert opinion was the basis for their entire argument on currency reform. A Nobel nominee in economics is a heavy hitter.”

  “A dissenting one is even bigger,” Jace said. “Instead of an asset, he became a roadblock. Now there’s no debates and no dissenters. Easy.”

  Chapter 32

  After Landers ate his way through their mini-bar like a rescued hostage, they’d ordered room service. He promptly devoured a ten-ounce steak dinner and two desserts in minutes.

  One detail still bothered Kat. Landers had arrived at Hideaway Bay on the same ferry they had. Assuming he had taped the interview in advance, when had he done it? The weather in the interview had been sunny. It hadn’t been sunny the whole time they had been here.