Revenge Of The CEO: White Collar Crime Financial Thriller

by Peter Ralph

  “Fuck him and fuck you,” Jack yelled, seizing his wallet and storming out of the house.

  “What’s wrong with him, Mum?” Sam said. “He’s changed so much. I don’t think I know him anymore.”

  “He works and studies so hard,” Jasmine said. “I think he needs a good long rest.”

  Jack sped out of his street and onto High Street Road just managing to stop behind two cars waiting for the lights to turn to green. He was angry, impatient and desperate for a fix. Why don’t they go through the fucking red light? He hit the horn while revving the guts out his car. When the lights turned he flew past the two cars giving their drivers the finger. Desperate, he phoned Anneka, “I need to see you,” he yelled. “I need ice.”

  “I can’t get out tonight.” She lied. “I’m looking after Granny.”

  “Fuck granny. Don’t you understand? I’m going through hell?”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the car park in St Kilda where we always meet. Hurry, I can’t last much longer.”

  “I’ll be there as quick as I can, but I can’t stay, I have to get back home.”

  “Just bring the stuff and fucking hurry up,” Jack screamed.

  Thirty minutes later Anneka pulled into the dark car park overlooking the sea and parked next to Jack. “Give it to me. Give it to me,” he yelled. She handed him a phial, and he tipped the contents on his bonnet. Taking huge breaths he snorted what would have been four lines and few minutes later his head was clear, he was no longer angry or impatient, he felt great.

  “I’m horny. Let’s jump in the back seat.”

  “I told you I have to get back home. I can’t.”

  “Fuck you,” he snarled, anger surging through him again.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could, honey. You know that.”

  “Just a quickie then,” he said, giving her his best charming boyish smile.

  “Jack, I have to go. We can fool around at the weekend.”

  “All right, fuck off then. I don’t need you to get laid.”

  As Anneka drove away, she knew her job was done, that she’d never see or hear from Jack Bartlett again. He was totally hooked, his face had a distinct meth rash from where he’d been scratching, and he was bipolar. Jack had been a nice kid and she wasn’t proud of what she had done, but Mick McHugh wasn’t someone you refused. At least he’d be pleased when her supervisor phoned to tell him mission complete. When she got home she would destroy the prepaid mobile that Jack had contacted her on and delete her email address, removing all means by which he could contact her.

  Chapter 37

  IT WAS 9 A.M. WHEN Douglas Aspine read the small article at the bottom of page 17 of the Herald Sun and was infuriated. The police had dropped all charges against Sir Edwin Philby on the advice of the Director of Public Prosecutions that it was unlikely convictions would be attained. Aspine had always realized that this was a possibility, but had hoped against hope that the charges would at least be heard in open court. It was the first setback he had suffered since escaping from Changi, and he tried to fight the pressure building in his temples to no avail. He put his hands on his forehead and gently tried to massage the stress away but still it continued to build. Almost without thinking he picked up his mobile and punched in the number for Desperate Desires. “I need a girl,” he barked.

  “Mr Adderley,” the receptionist responded. “I’m sorry, if you’re looking for Ramona, she doesn’t start until midday.”

  “I don’t care who you send,” Aspine said, and then paused. “But don’t send me anyone wearing a muzzle or she won’t get in the door.” Fuck! I didn’t say my name but they’ve got all my details. They’ve obviously recorded my phone number. I better get a new prepaid.

  “I’m sure you’ll be pleased with Felicity. She’s a blue eyed blonde with …”

  “She’ll do,” Aspine cut in.

  Felicity was an attractive, petite blonde with a cheery smile and a silicon enhanced upper deck. She normally spent fifteen minutes talking to a new John before getting down to action, but when Douglas Aspine opened the front door he was obviously aroused. He pushed five hundred dollars into her hand and said, “Get your clothes off and get into bed, I’ve got no time to waste.”

  She took no time at all and lay in bed watching him while he fought to pull down the jammed zip on his pants. “Do you need a hand?” She giggled.

  Aspine didn’t reply, finally releasing the zip and kicking his pants off. When he turned to face her he was rolling a condom onto his fully erect penis. “My, my, you are frisky, aren’t you? I don’t get many early morning call outs.”

  He jumped into bed grasping her breasts roughly and climbing on in one movement. He made no attempt to control the speed or force of his thrusting and Felicity might just as well have been a piece of dead meat. Three minutes later he rolled off and threw the condom on the floor.

  “Was that good?” she sniffled, disgusted by the feel of his hands.

  “Get out.”

  “What?”

  “Get dressed and fuck off. I’ve paid you and you’ve served your purpose.”

  After Felicity had gone, Aspine lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, a huge smirk on his face. He’d had countless similar sexual experiences and afterwards had always been disgusted with himself, but today he wasn’t. He was relieved. My equipment’s functioning perfectly I just needed a little stress to trigger it.

  Jack Bartlett’s life was spiralling out of control. When he was home he never left his bedroom or ate anything. He couldn’t stand the sight of his mother or brother and was in a perpetual rage. When he phoned Anneka, he got a Telstra message telling him the service had been disconnected. When he phoned Telstra they couldn’t tell him why the service had been disconnected as it would breach privacy laws. Nor could they tell him if Anneka had a new service. His emails bounced and in desperation he had driven out to the huge Monash campus in Clayton, and drove around the car parks hoping to find her.

  There were dents in every panel of his once immaculate car, but when Jasmine asked how they’d occurred, Jack had no idea, and shouted at her to get off his back and leave him alone. Tantrums were the norm, and anything that could be smashed or thrown was. Jasmine and Sam were in fear of the madman who lived with them. Physically he was a bag of bones having lost more than ten kilograms, there were rashes on his face, and his eyes were dark and sunken. Mentally he was in the darkest of dark worlds.

  Four days had passed since Jack had seen Anneka and he was beyond desperate. Impatience, anger and terrible hallucinations filled his life. He could neither eat nor sleep. The flashbacks and dreams drove him into another world where self-control did not exist. In wild frenzies, he smashed plates, cups, computer screens and windows but had no memory of doing so. The black dog would appear from nowhere and drive him to the depths of depression, and the thought of taking his life was ever present.

  Jasmine was beside herself with worry when she phoned Bill Muller, the ex-policeman who had contacted her out of the blue prying about Douglas Aspine. She had wanted to meet him at a coffee shop, but he had kept her on the phone plying her with questions about what she wanted to see him about. In the end she had broken down and told him everything. “Will you meet me? Can you help?”

  “Yes, and I don’t know. I need to see Jack so there’s no point meeting for coffee. I need to come to your home.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  Muller knew exactly what it was. He’d served on the drug squad for more than ten years. What he didn’t know was how bad it was. “I don’t know.” He lied. “I hope to be able to tell after I’ve seen Jack. Can I come over tonight?”

  “Yes, yes, I suppose so. I can’t guarantee that he’ll be home. He has a girlfriend and comes and goes as he pleases, but he’s been home the past few nights.

  Chapter 38

  IT WAS EARLY EVENING when Bill Muller pulled up out the front of Jasmine Bartlett’s weatherboard house in middle class Glen Iris. He st
opped and ran his eye over an old blue Ford parked in the driveway. It was filthy, and there were scrapes and dents all over it. Empty bottles and food wrappers littered the inside. A piece of plywood covered an obviously broken window at the rear of the house. Parked three houses away on the street was a silver Toyota Camry that Muller paid no attention to. Mick McHugh’s man took half a dozen pics of the ex-cop and texted them to his boss.

  Jasmine was waiting on the front veranda. “Thank you for coming, detective. Jack’s been shouting and crashing around his room all day. I think he’s going mad.”

  She was frowning and her eyes were red and puffy. “It’s Bill, Mrs Bartlett, I’m no longer on the force.”

  “Sorry, I forgot and please call me Jasmine. Can we talk out here?” Jasmine asked, as Sam joined them. “Sam, this is the man I told you about, Mr Muller.”

  “Hello, Sam.” Muller grinned, more than happy for the boy to call him Bill but not wanting to contradict Jasmine. “Can you tell me when you first noticed changes in Jack?”

  “About six months ago, but they were good changes,” Sam replied. “He’d just met Anneka, and was really happy. He was singing around the house and even bought some new clothes.”

  “What’s she like? Does she know what’s troubling Jack?”

  “We don’t know. We’ve never met or spoken to her.” Jasmine sighed.

  “Hold on. You said Jack’s been taking her out for six months. How come you haven’t met her?”

  “He said that she was very shy and that she wanted to meet us, but needed time,” Jasmine said.

  “So you’ve never even seen her,” Muller said, shaking his head.

  “Not in real life, but Jack showed me pics,” Jasmine said. “She’s stunning.”

  Jack texted me some pics when he first started taking her out,” Sam said, taking out his mobile. “He was so proud and wanted to show her off. Here look at these.”

  “She’s very attractive. Can you send those pics to me, Sam?”

  “What does Anneka have to do with what Jack’s going through?” Jasmine asked.

  “Probably nothing. It’s my police background. I like to cover all bases. When did you first start noticing changes for the worse?”

  “Jack didn’t really change, but he started to miss lectures and fall behind with his studies,” Jasmine said. “He had part time jobs to fit in as well, and we didn’t see him from Friday night until Monday morning. We guessed that he was spending weekends with Anneka. He was tired and a little stressed, but he didn’t take it out on us. He was still our gentle, kind, loving Jack.”

  “About three months ago he started studying through the night and going to lectures the following morning,” Sam said. “It was amazing, he seemed not to need sleep, and it wasn’t long before he’d caught up with his studies. He became more intense, angry and moody but we just put it down to how hard he was working.”

  “And the anger gradually intensified,” Muller said. ”He became impatient, snapped at you for making innocent everyday comments, and accused you of stealing when he couldn’t find something. This morphed into rages and he threatened to hurt or kill you. Then he started breaking and throwing things.”

  “Yes,” Jasmine said. “How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen it before, more times than I can count, and that’s not the worst. He’s suffering and his life is a rollercoaster of huge highs and terrible lows. Right now he’s in the depths of depression and needs help…desperately needs help.”

  “You didn’t answer my question!”

  Muller looked at his shoes before staring into Jasmine’s eyes. “I hate to tell you, but Jack’s a drug addict.”

  “No, no, that can’t be true.” Jasmine cried.

  “I think he’s right, Mum.”

  “I’m sorry, Jasmine, but if I’m going to help, I need to meet Jack,” Muller said.

  “Yes, yes,” Jasmine whimpered. “Could he be…could he be suicidal?”

  Her husband has taken his own life, and Muller could see the fear in her eyes. “We’re going to help Jack get better,” he said. “Let’s go inside and talk to him.”

  Jasmine knocked gently on Jack’s bedroom door. “Jack, can we come in? I have someone here who wants to talk to you.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “We just want to help you, darling.”

  A glass or bottle smashed against the bedroom door. “Didn’t you hear me? Leave me fucking well alone.”

  “He never used to swear,” Jasmine whispered.

  “Jack, my name’s Bill Muller, and I’m coming in to talk to you whether you like it or not.”

  “You come in and I’ll fucking kill you.”

  “Maybe you should come back another time.” Jasmine sniffled, fighting back tears.

  “No, let’s get this over now,” Muller said, shoving the door open.

  Muller ducked to his left as a bottle whistled past his head and crashed into the wall. “Get out,” Jack shouted, and charged.

  Muller was bigger and heavier than Jack but the young man’s momentum drove him into the hallway where they crashed to the floor. Jack was skinny and undernourished, but the strength that comes from rage overwhelmed Muller, and all he could do was fight to hold Jack’s arms knowing his strength would soon subside. Jack was writhing and fighting to free his arms but he was weakening, and Muller rolled over on top of him and put his knees into biceps pinning him on his back. “Cool it, Jack, I just want to talk to you,” Muller said, seeing the rash and a large meth scab on his face.

  “Fuck you,” Jack yelled, using every ounce of his remaining strength in a futile attempt to push Muller off. Then without warning he blacked out.

  “You’ve killed him,” Jasmine screamed. “Get off him, get off him.”

  “He’s all right. He’s just blacked out from overexertion and lack of food,” Muller said. “See the rashes and scab on his face? They’re proof of meth addiction. Sam, get Anneka’s number out of Jack’s mobile while you can and send it to me with the pics.”

  “Okay,” Sam said, picking up Jack’s mobile and skimming through his contacts.

  “Jasmine, Jack needs professional help and we need to get him checked into a drug rehabilitation clinic tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Jasmine gasped.

  “I have contacts at an excellent private clinic and can have him admitted with one phone call. Just give me the nod.”

  “I…I…don’t know. I’d like to talk to him first.”

  Muller slowly shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? He’s sick. He’s an addict and he may be for the rest of his life. I can guarantee this clinic will get him clean again, but I can’t guarantee he’ll stay that way. No one can. There’s no time to talk.”

  “He’s right, Mum,” Sam said.

  As Jack started to stir, Jasmine said, “How are you going to get him admitted. He’s eighteen, he’s an adult. I can’t sign his admission papers.”

  “You can if he’s seventeen,” Muller said.

  “You want me to lie?”

  “A white lie. I’ll phone an ambulance. Sam, get your brother a glass of water.”

  “He won’t stay. I know he won’t. He’ll check himself out in the morning.” Jasmine sobbed. “I know he will.”

  “I can promise you he won’t be discharged for at least five days and hopefully by then he’ll realize it’s for his own good.”

  “He won’t,” Jasmine said. “He’s changed. He won’t listen to the doctors, he won’t listen to me, he won’t listen to anyone.”

  The ambulance arrived promptly, but not before Jack had regained his belligerence. “I’m not fucking going,” he yelled, futilely trying to break Muller’s firm grip on his arm.

  “What’s he on?” One of the ambos asked.

  “Ice,” Muller said.

  “I’ll give him a mild sedative, and strap him to a stretcher while we still can,” the ambo said. “With luck it’ll stop him from going crazy on the way to the clinic.”

/>   “I’m coming with you, Jack,” Jasmine said.

  “No you’re not. It’s not safe,” Muller said. “I’ll go with him and you can follow in your car.”

  Douglas Aspine moved quickly once he received the call from Mick McHugh and was elated when he saw the ambulance in Jasmine’s driveway and the frenetic activity on the veranda. He took photos and videoed the activities and when the ambulance departed, he too followed it.

  Chapter 39

  THE DRIVE BACK FROM the clinic was tense and Jasmine wrestled with her conscience over what she had just done. What type of mother admits her son into a drug rehabilitation clinic? “He’s not going to stay in there,” she said. “He’s going to bolt the first opportunity he gets.”

  “You’ll be able to talk to him in a few days’ time, and maybe you’ll be able to convince him that it’s for his own good to stay,” Muller said.

  “He won’t listen to anyone. I already told you that.”

  “What about Uncle Raj, Mum?” Sam said. “Jack really respects him.”

  “Perhaps, but that was before Jack got sick,” Jasmine said. “I’ll phone him when we get home. It would be wonderful if he could come down, wouldn’t it, Sam?”

  Muller didn’t say anything, but knew that along with Jasmine, Raj, had been responsible for framing Aspine, and he wondered whether luring Raj from Singapore was part of Aspine’s grand plan. As if she was reading his mind, Jasmine said, “This is why you asked me about Douglas Aspine, isn’t it? He’s the bastard responsible for getting Jack hooked on drugs, isn’t he? Is he in Australia?”

  “Yes, all of his old enemies, including you, have suffered since his escape from Changi. I suspect he’s here but can’t say for sure. He could well be pulling the strings from overseas, but for what it’s worth, I think he’s back.”