by Pete Lister
“Thanks, Sonny. I’ll get this to Jack.”
§ § §
No one was home when Jack Paustian and three of Shiv’s men pulled into Drew and Ashley’s driveway. After ringing the front doorbell and knocking on the back door, they looked through the windows into the house and garage. No one was home and a car was locked in the garage.
Pat Mead picked the lock on the side door of the garage, and found the car door already unlocked. They searched the car, including the glove box and the trunk, without finding any sign of either the money or the drugs. The place was neat enough that they could see everything being stored there. After clearing the garage, and relocking the garage door, they picked the back door of the house, but a thorough search again proved fruitless.
“Okay, let’s go check out the old man.” Jack told them. It was only a short drive to John’s house. Just as at Drew and Ashley’s, there was no sign of Shiv’s money or drugs in the house or the empty garage. After reporting to Shiv, they returned to Chicago, still frustrated.
Their failure to find the missing money and drugs was not making Shiv any easier to live with. He was getting edgy and short-tempered. They had all been with Shiv a long time, and while they understood the reason for his current short temper, it didn’t make it any easier on them.
§ § §
John had purchased a four-year old motor coach with all the bells and whistles. After closing the deal at the General RV Center in Wayland, Drew had driven back to Grand Rapids while John and the girls learned the ins and outs of their new home. After purchasing a cashier’s check at the Grand Rapids branch of the Fifth Third Bank, Drew quickly drove back to Wayland.
Ten days of touring the twenty-seven casinos in Michigan proved fruitful, especially after they had visited each of them several times. Each of the group would walk in alone and buy five thousand dollars worth of chips. After fifteen minutes worth of play at blackjack or roulette, they would cash out and eat lunch together. Then they would cash out their chips, asking for their “winnings” to be issued as a check, as ‘we’re on vacation and don’t want to carry that much cash around with us.’ They also filled safe deposit boxes with hundred-dollar bills at each bank.
Each of the four had been opening their own accounts at different banks and credit unions. They had discussed this and decided that they each of them should have independent access to funds in case of an emergency.
After mailing the checks to their respective banks, they would find a good restaurant, return to their RV park or campground, and relax during the evening. After a week and a half, and having gone through all of Michigan’s casinos, they had almost two million dollars laundered and deposited in their various checking accounts. They had another two million, among them, salted away in various safe deposit boxes and most of the rest of the cash in a storage unit outside of Grand Rapids.
Their modus operandi was to stash money as they travelled, in case they ever needed access without leaving a paper trail. Any of the accounts could be closed or cashed out, leaving the rest securely hidden. After they opened the first couple of accounts, they realized it would quickly become too much to commit to memory, so they saved a full accounting of each person’s share in online caches under false names and long passwords.
They became adept at picking up phony identification in college towns, and soon acquired quite a collection. That had bothered John in the beginning, after decades as a cop, but the group had hashed out the ethical issues at great length, like the ancient rabbis hammering out the Talmud, satisfying themselves that keeping found money, and depriving the drug dealer who ‘rightfully’ owned it, wasn’t actually unethical, or at least not sufficiently unethical to cause them to lose any sleep. They finally decided that their ‘wrong’ wasn’t wrong enough to constitute half of the wrongs that don’t make a right. The reasoning was convoluted, but after many evenings around a wine bottle and good food, they all understood and accepted it.
§ § §
A couple of leisurely weeks spent cruising Indiana’s fourteen casinos had given them each another million in their various banks. Night had fallen in Indianapolis, and the four were lounging in the Jacuzzi in front of an outdoor gas fireplace in their upscale RV park. Several bottles of red wine sat on a tray next to the tub, and they were a contented-looking group.
“I’ve got a problem,” Drew sighed. “I’m getting bored.”
“And that can be a problem,” added his father. “We don’t know where your drug dealer is looking, but you can bet he’s looking. I think we’ve pretty much dropped off the map, but we can never let our guard down. Drew, you may be on to something. Why don’t we go somewhere, do something different? We still haven’t found what we’re looking for down the road, but I’d hate for this to get old on us.”
“How about a cruise?” Dianne suggested.
“Wouldn’t we need passports for that?” Ashley asked, “and wouldn’t that mean that, if somebody’s watching for us, we’d be sitting ducks on a ship?”
“Not if we left from Florida and sailed to the American Virgin Islands.” Drew was getting excited. “Ever been to St. Thomas or St. Croix?”
“What about a crewed yacht?” John asked. “Eve and I did one of those for our twentieth anniversary, and it was great. Private cabins for each couple, and a captain and a cook. We can take as long as we want.”
“You know, that sounds great,” Drew responded. “But I wouldn’t want to stay too long. I’m beginning to suspect that the hardest part of this lifestyle is staying entertained. I’d really hate to get jaded. If we’re going to do fun stuff, I’d like it to stay fun. Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely.” Ashley laid her hand on his arm and, reaching for the wine bottle, managed to rub against him provocatively. “Let’s do it.”
“I have another idea, while we’re on the subject of the Caribbean,” said John. With a flourish, he pulled a small purple velvet box out from behind another bottle. Opening the box, he removed a beautiful diamond engagement ring. “Dianne, I’ve been thinking about our next project. Why don’t we get married while we’re there?” Placing the box back on the wine tray, he slipped the ring onto her finger. “Now don’t get the box wet. If you say no, I won’t be able to return it.”
“As if!” she squealed, throwing herself on him. “Of course, you silly man. I think that’s a fine idea.” After an appropriately long and passionate kiss, she glanced over at the bottle, picking up another box. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that’s mine.” Drew told her. Reaching over, he took the box out of her hand. “Ashley, as long as the old folks are getting married down there, maybe we should tie the knot, too, unless, of course, you don’t want to.” With that, he reached into the box and pulled out another diamond ring, slipping it on her finger.
Ashley held up her hand, in front of her face, the universal signal for ‘look at my ring!’, staring at the ring calmly, betraying no emotion. After a moment, she turned to Drew. “As a friend of mine once said,” she replied, quietly. “AS IF!” and threw herself on top of him, smothering him with kisses. “We can’t trust you boys to go anywhere alone.”
“And by the way,” Dianne added, “Not the most romantic proposal I’ve ever heard.”
“Ahem.” John cleared his throat, preparatory to making an announcement. When he had their attention, he quietly said, “Don’t you kids have a room of your own?”
§ § §
10
“Shiv, I don’t know what to tell ya.” Shiv, Scott, and di Stasio were walking down Michigan Avenue, eating Chicago-style hot dogs. Pat Mead followed discretely, ten to fifteen feet behind them, eating his own dog.
“It’s like they dropped off the face of the Earth. We’ve got feelers out all over the country. There’s been no sign of either the kids or the old man, anywhere. There’s been no credit card transactions, they still got money in the bank, all three of them, but not much. The girl’s car hasn’t moved, and there’s no record anywhere o
f tickets for any of them.
“A couple weeks ago, the Sherry kid’s truck tags were renewed. I checked and found out it was paid online with a debit card from his bank in Milwaukee. They couldn’t tell me where it originated. Doesn’t really matter, I suppose. I think they’re too smart to send something we could track and then stay there.
“The old man’s mortgage is on auto-pay through his credit card, so they don’t know or care where he is. You know, for all we know, he might be dead. Honest to Christ, Shiv, we just don’t know where else to look.” Scott was still working on his dog while di Stasio and Shiv talked.
“You got the old man’s credit card number?” Shiv asked di Stasio, who nodded. “Lemme have a copy and I’ll notify the company to cancel it. Maybe that’ll flush them out.”
“Your guys come up with anything?” di Stasio asked.
“Nada. This can’t be happening. There’s no goddam way these three sonsabitches just drop off the planet. I put a quarter of a mil reward on them, and I ain’t heard nothing! I’m telling you this, though: no way on this earth I’m letting this go! I want those bastards, and I don’t care how long I have to wait to find them. I will find them. You got something set up so you get a call they use them credit cards?”
“Sure do. Set it up right after they disappeared.” Di Stasio told him. “We even reported that fatal car wreck in Wisconsin and listed them as witnesses, so if they show up anywhere, any cop in the country will call us.”
Frustrated, the three men continued down Michigan Avenue.
§ § §
“John,” Dianne called from the living room of their motor home. “Can you come in here?”
“Sure, sweetie, what’s up?”
“Someone’s cancelled one of your credit cards. You had your house payments on auto-pay on that one. What do we do now?”
“Well, we know who’s behind this, don’t we? I don’t want to set it up with another one of my cards. They’d just do the same thing. He’s trying to smoke me out. I’ll just arrange a wire transfer to the mortgage company and pay off the mortgage. The worst that can happen is that they find out that I paid it off. That still won’t tell them where I am. Maybe while we’re sailing next week, we can look into offshore accounts. Every crook in the country uses them. We ought to be able to.” Walking over to the door, he called out. “Hey, Drew! You guys want to come in for a minute? Yeah, okay, see you then.”
Turning back, he told Dianne , “They’re in the Jacuzzi. They’ll be back in a little while. Any of your cards affected?”
“No, thank heavens. There doesn’t seem to be any indication that anyone’s touched any of my accounts. My house is paid off, ever since Lee died. But I still make a monthly transfer into an escrow account to cover insurance and taxes, that and the utilities are on auto-pay.”
“Well, I’m glad of that, anyway.”
“When’s our flight?” she asked him.
“Eight o’clock tomorrow morning. The crew will pick us up at the airport and take us to the boat. I’m sure we’ll have time to pick up any clothes we might need after we get there. It’s not like we’re planning on wearing a lot of clothes. I’m not even taking any luggage, just my shaving kit.”
“I’m just taking my big shoulder bag. I have several books I want to read on the boat. This brochure says I can ‘relax in luxury as I enjoy a wide variety of tropical beverages for those days while I bask in the sun’. That’s going to be me, reading and basking in the sun with a wide variety of tropical beverages.”
§ § §
Shiv Thompson picked up the phone, as soon as Chris told him it was di Stasio. “Waddya got, Ralph?” he asked.
“Cancelling the credit card worked. The old man just paid off his house with a wire transfer from a bank in Michigan, from an account we didn’t even know he had. The bank told me that the wire transfer was authorized by phone. The only address the bank has on the guy was the address on his license, which turns out to be a furnished apartment in Grand Rapids. I checked with the Michigan DMV and they told me the license is phony. That’s how they’ve stayed under the radar. The address is real, but it’s a corporate rental place, and it’s currently vacant.” Di Stasio explained. “They bought phony drivers’ licenses with their real names, then used them to open checking accounts…”
“Using a fistful of my money.”
“…and they’re using legitimate debit cards from those checking accounts to finance their travels.”
“Can you find him with the addresses on these phony IDs?” Shiv asked.
“Not really. If it’s phony, there’s no actual record of the license.”
“So how do we find them?” Shiv wanted to know.
“Well, I’m afraid that just knowing how they’re doing it doesn’t get us any closer. We don’t actually have an address they’re currently using. We’re still going to have to wait for them to make a mistake.”
“I don’t think I want to wait that long.”
“Shiv, if you got any ideas how we can speed up this process, I’m all ears.”
“I don’t need lip from you, di Stasio, I need results.”
Ralph hesitated, considering, before he spoke. “Shiv, if there was something Sonny and I could do to speed this up, don’t you think we’d be doing it?”
“I don’t know. All’s I know is this goddam process is taking way too long. I got fourteen and a half million bucks and a ton of horse out there somewhere, and it don’t look to me like nobody but me gives a shit.”
“Well, I can tell you that Sonny and I don’t give a shit about your cash or your heroin. We’re on the job because you pay us, and because you’ve always been good to us. We’re doing this because it’s the job you pay us for, and out of loyalty to you. Any time you don’t think we’re trying hard enough, feel free to replace us.”
“How about I replace you and they never find your bodies?” Shiv was seething, his famous temper bubbling toward the surface.
The detective didn’t back down an inch. “Shiv, how dumb do you think we are? We’ve fully documented every job we’ve done for you. The reports are sitting in safe deposit boxes all over this city. Anything happens to us and boxes full of paper show up at the Trib, the Sun-Times, and 3510 South Michigan Avenue.”
“You threatening me, you sonuvabitch?”
“No, we would never do that. But, you just threatened us, and I’m just letting you know that we’re dealing here as equals. When we took up with you, we knew what we were getting ourselves into. The money was great, and you’ve been a stand-up guy. But, you’re Shiv Thompson. You think we don’t know how you get when you’re pissed? Sonny and I decided early on that we liked working for you, but we might need some insurance. Every year, we start from scratch with a box at another bank. The old ones stay in place, and the new one joins the list. We got a dozen lawyers in this town that, if they hear we’re dead, they’ll mail out a list of all the boxes to the papers and the Police Commissioner. “
“So what I’m supposed to do you’re killed in a car wreck, or you get shot on the job?”
“Then, my friend, you are truly and royally screwed.”
“Ralph, I’m telling you this one time. I ain’t up for this. I want all that shit on my desk and I want it there soon.”
“Not a chance in hell, Shiv. As long as you can use us, we’re safe. The minute you think you don’t need us any more, we damned sure don’t expect a layoff notice in the mail. We’re just making sure you’re never tempted to deliver that notice. You don’t screw with us, you treat us fair, you’re safe. You get tired of us, just say the word and we’re off your payroll. We part company as friends, no blood, no foul. You’ll be safe from us ‘cause we’ll never rat. If we did, you could turn the tables on us. Tell an investigating officer about our boxes.
“Remember the cold war? The thing that kept us safe from the Soviets was that we both had enough atom bombs to wipe each other out twenty or thirty times over. If one country launched, there was time
for the other country to launch. So, nobody launched. That’s us, Shiv. You pay for our loyalty, you got it. We just want you to remember, we want the same loyalty you want. So, are we still on the team?”
“I don’t like it, but, yeah. I can still use ya, and I don’t feel like breaking in no rookies. Just know this, you really pissed me off this time.”
“That’s great, Shiv. As long as we all know we can trust each other, everything’s copasetic. We’ll keep you posted we find anything. Talk to you, later.” Di Stasio smiled as he heard Shiv slam down the phone.
§ § §
11
Ashley Lynn Bevan was breathtaking. The vivacious blonde in the pink bikini was tucked up against the mast of the 64’ sloop, Evie’s Song, the breeze ruffling her hair, reading a Maeve Binchy novel. Her future mother-in-law lay next to her, her head elevated on two cockpit pillows, reading her own book. Mili Davis’s guitar rendition of Evie’s Song played softly over the boat’s deck-side speakers.
“Dianne?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Does it ever bother you when the guys refer to us as ‘the girls’?”
“Not a bit. We always refer to them as ‘the boys’, don’t we?”
“I guess so.”
“I don’t think it shows any disrespect. You know the Sherrys. Do you think either of them would disrespect us?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, there you have it. I don’t think one has to be too very politically correct when dealing with those with whom one is intimate. Oh, my goodness, I can’t believe I just said that. Did I sound like Miss Manners?” Dianne said, laughing.
Ashley laughed with her. “Actually, you did, but it made perfect sense. Speaking of the boys, what do you suppose they’re talking about, now?”
Twenty feet forward of their fiancées, Drew and his father sat on the bow, their legs dangling over the sparkling blue Caribbean as the big sailboat worked its way toward Christiansted, St. Croix. A pod of bottle-nose dolphin outriders seemed to be smiling up at them, inviting them to play.
