Kat played along. “A dollar.”
“That’s what it says on the face of it. But what is a dollar? It’s just a promise to pay. A fancy IOU from the government. It’s essentially worthless.”
“An odd thing for someone like you to say. You trade currency for a living.”
“No, what’s odd is that we exchange our paper money for items of value in the first place. One upon a time that paper was backed by gold. Not anymore. Before gold, we bartered for things. Maybe gold for food. Something of value was given in exchange for something else. It’s different now. This promise isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. The paper money printed today exceeds the value of the assets that back it, by a thousand-fold, or more.”
“What does this have to do with Edgewater and Nathan’s fraud?”
“It’s got everything to do with it. Reporting Nathan’s fraud means unwinding it. We’re talking about a huge sum of money, Kat. So much that it has repercussions far beyond Edgewater and the fund. Money’s been leveraged to the point that no one even knows what’s behind it—what’s going on any more. Any sudden shocks and the whole financial system collapses.”
“You’re exaggerating. Edgewater’s fund is just a fraction of the money in circulation. You can’t seriously think it would destabilize the global financial system. That’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not talking about Edgewater itself, Kat. Look where the stolen money went. To a secretive organization that wants to replace the world’s currency. If people get wind of this, they’ll lose faith in all their governments, all their monetary systems. They’ll cash in all their investments. A run on the banks. There’s not enough money in the world to stop it.”
“You can’t be serious. And don’t use this as an excuse to delay the inevitable.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying—everything’s connected.”
“You’re telling me the global monetary system is just created out of thin air?”
“Basically. It’s a very big poker game. Everyone thinks theirs is a winning hand. As long as that’s the case, they hold, and everything’s good. The minute they fold we’re in trouble. We can’t have everyone cashing in their chips at once.”
“But Nathan robbed Edgewater. You yourself said you wanted to ruin him.”
He said nothing.
At that moment, Kat saw that Zachary wanted exactly the same thing Nathan did—absolute power. He just had a different means of getting it. Nathan wanted to control the monetary system itself. In contrast, Zachary used trading as a means to exploit it. Both had the same end result. Values manipulated for their own personal gain.
“I am going to bring him down. But not at the expense of the markets and my livelihood. I’m getting the money back first. Then I’ll report it. Don’t shaft Edgewater’s investors, Kat. You’ll be ruining it for yourself too. For everyone.”
“Who’s ruining it? Sooner or later they’ll have to pay. Waiting just makes the inevitable more painful.”
“Nothing’s inevitable.” Zachary turned the monitor back. “How many Ponzi schemes do you think are going on in the world right now?”
Zachary didn’t wait for her answer. “Hundreds? No—thousands. All over the world, big and small. Most will never be uncovered unless and until there’s a cash shortage. As long as returns, money supply, and investors keep growing, no one ever knows.”
“It’s the same with the global monetary system. The assets backing it are a fraction of the paper money circulating. It relies on everyone not cashing in their chips at once. As long as no one panics, enough stays invested and everything works. Money stays in the banks, and investors keep their money in our funds. If that’s not a game, I don’t know what is. It’s dangerous to call a bluff when things aren’t in your favor.”
“I don’t get it, Zachary. What happened to exposing Nathan?”
“He’ll get what he deserves. After I recover the losses.”
Kat jumped as her cell phone rang. She checked the call display. It was the hospital. She’d deal with Zachary later. “I have to take this.”
The woman on the phone sounded in a hurry. “I’ve got a patient here—demanding to see you. How soon can you get here?”
Uncle Harry must be feeling better. This nurse sounded decidedly more polite than the two from last night. She probably didn’t realize Kat had been the one that brought Harry to the hospital. “How is he doing?”
“Not bad. A little incoherent, though. Muttering something about globalization and money.”
Odd. Harry usually tuned out her finance discussions. At any rate, she was sure he wouldn’t remember them.
“I was planning to visit in a couple of hours,” she said. This nurse’s demeanor was quite a departure from the supervised visits and suspicious glares. What had changed their minds?
“I’m hoping you can get here sooner, maybe calm him down. He’s threatening to leave, and I can’t stop him. He really needs medical care.”
“It’s the dementia,” Kat said. “He’s easily agitated in unfamiliar places.” Kat was surprised that Harry even remembered the World Institute and Nathan Barron, let alone talked about them.
“Dementia? I don’t think so. He appears normal to me.”
“He seems okay at first, but within a few minutes he’ll repeat himself.” How could a medical professional miss the signs? Harry would appear confused within minutes of striking up a conversation.
“He hasn’t so far. I guarantee you this guy does not have dementia. At any rate, he’s far too young.”
“Too young?” Uncle Harry could pass for years younger than he was, but he was still a senior. “He’s eighty.”
The nurse laughed. “Eighty? I don’t think so. Are we talking about the same guy? ” She didn’t wait for Kat to answer. “He doesn’t have any identification. Just a cell phone. That’s how I got your number. It’s programmed into his phone as an emergency contact.”
Kat’s heart skipped a beat. “Brown hair, blue eyes? Six-three or so?”
“Sounds about right.”
He’s alive. “His name’s Jace. Jace Burton.”
Chapter 58
Kat raced to the hospital in record time, despite snarled traffic, a four-car accident, and impossible parking. She parked in a tow-away zone, though she doubted the truck would be there when she returned. Who cared? It was worth it just to be here.
Jace stared up at her from the hospital bed. The right side of his face was covered in bruises, and his eye was swollen shut. “Take me home.”
“Who did this to you?” Kat perched on the side of Jace’s hospital bed and stroked his forehead. “Nathan Barron?”
Jace winced. “What’s Nathan Barron got to do with anything?”
“Hideaway Bay? The hotel room? Don’t you remember? You went next door with Roger Landers.”
He scratched his head. “All I is remember being in the room with you and Roger Landers. You were mad because he ate everything in our mini-bar. I didn’t see Nathan Barron. At least I don’t think I did.” Jace’s brows creased. “How did I get here?”
“I don’t know.” Kat swallowed the lump in her throat. “But you’ve been missing for days. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Days?” He reached for her hand and squeezed it.
“You don’t remember going next door?”
“No.” Jace shook his head. “It’s all a big blank.”
Kat frowned. “You sure you don’t remember seeing Nathan? Or Victoria Barron?”
“I—I don’t know. Something else did happen—I just can’t quite pull it from my memory.” Jace frowned. “Somebody knocked at the door I think...”
“Try to remember, Jace. You went next door with Roger, taking the World Institute documents and my laptop with you. The laptop was still there when I was there. Do you know what happened to the documents? Did Roger take them? Or Nathan Barron?”
Jace scanned the room. “I’m trying—but it just won’t come back to me
. Where are my clothes?”
Kat stood, feeling a surge of hope. Could the documents be right here in the room? They were the key to linking Nathan Barron to both Research Analytics and the World Institute. The agenda and meeting minutes were particularly incriminating, and a critical piece for Zachary’s investigation.
She glanced around but saw none of Jace’s personal belongings in the tiny hospital room.
“You were writing a story about the World Institute. You and Landers discussed the global monetary system and the World Institute’s plan for a single global currency. You had my laptop and the papers.”
And we argued. She hoped Jace didn’t remember that part.
“The agenda? You didn’t want Landers to have it.” Jace tried to lift himself up to a sitting position. He swore and dropped his head back down on the pillow.
Kat held her hand up to stop him. She pressed the button on the side of the bed until the bed slowly elevated Jace to a half-sitting position.
“You do remember! What happened to it?” Kat surveyed the room and noticed several drawers built into the far wall. She moved around the bed and opened them one by one.
“I don’t know.” Jace yawned and stretched his arms. “I remember the room a little bit, but everything’s a blur.”
Jace hadn’t mentioned his half-written story either. Did he forget that, too? “I’ve figured out why the Sentinel pulled your mortgage fraud story. See this?” Kat showed him the story. “Look at the address—422 Cedar Street.”
Jace gave her a blank stare.
“Global Financial’s address is 422 Cedar Street.”
“I’m not following.” Jace grabbed a plastic cup from his bedside tray and sipped through the straw.
“Global Financial, the company you exposed in your mortgage fraud story, has the same address as Beecham, Edgewater’s fictitious auditors.” Although Jace had researched Beecham, only Kat had actually visited 422 Cedar Street.
“They’re connected?” Jace bolted up in bed, spilling water all over his hospital gown. “That’s an awful lot of activity for a vacant lot.”
“You were right about Pinslett, Jace. I’m still working out the details, but it appears that Global Financial’s mortgage fraud was Pinslett’s contribution to the World Institute. Just as Nathan Barron diverted money from Edgewater, so did Pinslett. Only Pinslett’s funding comes through Global Financial.”
“You followed the money and it led you to the crime.” Jace brushed the water off with his palm.
Kat nodded. Finding the same address had been a lucky break. Then again, forensic accounting often involved creating your own luck. Searching for patterns in the data often provided clues, in this case a shared address. It was the catalyst that broke the case wide open. “It proves that whoever is behind that mortgage fraud is also connected to the World Institute. Who has the ability and desire to pull a story from the Sentinel—and is also connected to the World Institute?”
“Gordon Pinslett.” Jace pulled the covers off and swung his legs over the bed. “My story. I’ve got to get out of here.”
“You’re not going anywhere, my dear.”
Kat stopped her drawer search and turned to the doorway.
A plump nurse bustled in. Her rubber soles squeaked on the linoleum floor as she strode towards the bed. “Now lie back down. The more you relax, the sooner you’ll be out of here.”
The nurse held up Jace’s arm. The same forearm blistered from the fire now sported a six-inch purple bruise on the inside of his elbow crease. Exactly the same location as the one on her arm. A small scab also decorated the top of his forearm. Either sloppy needle work or patient resistance. Probably a bit of both.
“I see you’ve got yourself a visitor.” The nurse nodded at Kat as she walked around the bed and lifted Jace’s uninjured arm. She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around it and pumped it up.
“He was incoherent when we picked him up. Didn’t even know his own name.” The nurse glanced at the monitor and undid the Velcro cuff. “Everything’s good, except he’s still not a hundred percent with the concussion. His memory will probably come back over the next few days. Hard to know for sure.”
Jace protested. “My memory is back. I’m fine now.”
The nurse ignored him.
So did Kat. “How did Jace get here? In the hospital, I mean.”
“Same way they all come in, honey. By ambulance.”
“Do you actually know that? I mean, is it in his chart, or did you see him come in?”
“I wasn’t here, but I heard all about it. Didn’t you?” The nurse seemed annoyed at Kat’s question. “It’s been all over the news.”
The nurse noticed Kat’s pause and gave her a disapproving look.
Kat shook her head. She had been busy getting dumped herself, except that she was lucky enough to wake up on a bench in the Waterfront train station. But explaining that to the nurse would just make her sound like a nutcase.
The nurse’s timeline also conflicted with Landers’ version of events. The whole jail story was obviously false, and she felt stupid for believing any of Landers’s lies. The guy was a pathological liar. She resumed her drawer check.
“I don’t even know what happened,” Jace said. “I can’t remember a thing before waking up here.”
The nurse replaced his chart and turned. “You were lying on the side of the highway, unconscious. Police said someone dumped you there. You’re lucky you didn’t freeze to death. Or get run over.” She turned to Kat. “He only woke up an hour ago.”
“I sure don’t feel very lucky.” Jace grimaced and shifted on the bed.
Kat smiled as she opened the bottom drawer. It held Jace’s clothing. Kat pulled out a jacket and patted the pockets. Nothing. She refolded them and dropped them on the floor.
“Believe me, you are lucky,” the nurse said. “Mild hypothermia, frostbite on three fingers, and a concussion. It could have been a lot worse. You were almost run over.”
The nurse turned and left the room, footsteps squeaking across the linoleum floor.
Kat extracted Jace’s shirt and searched the pockets. Also nothing. Only his jeans remained. She lifted them out of the drawer and stuck her hand in a back pocket. Tucked into the pocket and folded in four was a copy of the World Institute minutes. The other documents were missing. Landers or Nathan Barron probably had them. Which of the two didn’t matter, since they were probably co-conspirators.
“I had a run-in with Nathan and Victoria too.” Kat recounted the events. “Landers just stood there and did nothing.”
“Your client’s ex-wife?”
Kat nodded and realized Jace had never actually seen Victoria. She explained Victoria and Nathan’s relationship.
“Now I remember,” he said. “She was with Nathan. I didn’t know she was Russian.”
“Russian?”
“Yeah. Isn’t Angelika’s accent Russian?”
“Angelika? You mean the housekeeper at the Tides Resort?”
“She’s the one who injected me.” He rubbed his arm. “She was in the room with Nathan. And Roger.” Jace’s eyes narrowed. “That traitor.”
“Angelika?” Was that why the housekeeper had entered their room so early in the morning? She had been searching for something, or someone.
Jace nodded. “That’s what I said.”
Svensson and Angelika. Angelika and Nathan. Was Nathan somehow involved in Svensson’s murder?
The nurse returned with a paper cup and some pills.
Jace smiled as he swallowed the pills. Whatever the pills contained made him oblivious to the World Institute, the Sentinel, and his story.
Kat’s pulse quickened. The prepaid credit cards. Nathan had a bunch of them, and one of the same type was in the housekeeper’s uniform. A uniform approximately Angelika’s size. Was it a form of payment? If so, were there other services rendered?
The nurse interrupted her thoughts. “He’s not going anywhere for awhile.”
It wa
s the best news Kat had heard in a very long time.
Chapter 59
Kat reached Harry’s house just after noon. The front sidewalk remained un-shoveled, in stark contrast to the neatly cleared sidewalks on the rest of the block. She climbed the front stairs and knocked. If there was any chance Hillary hadn’t emptied out the fridge, she needed to get ahold of that orange juice—it had to be the source of the poison. But there had to be another explanation. Food poisoning, maybe? She wanted the juice tested and to see if it tied in with Dr. Konig’s theory. If the juice was tainted, it meant that she had been poisoned too.
No answer. Kat breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully Hillary hadn’t sold the house to the couple, or to anyone else just yet. It was highly unlikely that the sale would close so quickly, but anything was possible with Hillary. Especially if she was hard-pressed for cash.
Cutting off Hillary’s cash supply had been nothing short of disastrous. It brought Hillary back to town, ruined Harry financially, and almost cost him his life. If Kat hadn’t cut off Hillary’s access to Harry’s bank account and credit cards, none of this would have happened. It was all her fault. But what choice did she have?
She was anxious to get inside. Instead she knocked again, and forced herself to wait another minute. Still no answer. She leaned against the door and listened for any sign of activity.
Harry’s diagnosis of acute poisoning still seemed unreal. Since she and Jace had been together at Hideaway Bay during the time frame of the poisoning, that left Hillary. Why, then, wasn’t she a potential suspect? How could she visit Harry unsupervised? Unless she had concocted a story to implicate Kat.
Kat shuddered. Harry was in imminent danger since Hillary still had unrestricted access to him in the hospital. There was simply no other explanation than Hillary for the poison in his system.
Kat peered through the side window as she waited on Harry’s front porch. Still no answer, and no sign of activity through the sheer curtains. That was good.
Kat descended the stairs and followed the sidewalk around to the back of the house. The snow was untracked. No one had come or gone since last night.
Game Theory--A Katerina Carter Fraud Legal Thriller Page 25
