[Katerina Carter 01.0] Exit Strategy

by Colleen Cross

  “Sure. By the way, Kat, I’ve been reading that Liberty annual report you left on your desk. Bet you didn’t know, I’m a shareholder.”

  Kat didn’t. Another dilemma. If Susan would issue the press release, then Harry would know. Otherwise, she would betray her client’s confidence. But if she didn’t tell him, she wasn’t looking out for his best interests. What to do?

  “Find anything interesting?”

  “Nothing I didn’t know already, unless you count the astronomical growth. Of course that’s why I invested in the first place. I’ve made a killing this year. That’s your new case?”

  “It is.” She braced herself for the inevitable as Harry’s smug expression disappeared.

  “What is it? Insider trading? Bankruptcy?”

  “You’ll have to wait for the press release on Monday.” If there was one. “You know why these companies hire me. There’s fraud involved. I can’t tell you anything else, but the shares will probably nosedive after the press release on Monday morning. You’ll lose at least some of your gains.”

  Kat wandered into the kitchen and rifled through it, settling on a bag of microwave popcorn and stale coffee.

  She settled into her office, emptying the contents of her briefcase and organizing it into piles on the desk as she finished the last of the popcorn. She eyed the stacks. What was she missing? As Chief Financial Officer, Bryant had access to the most secure and sensitive information, and the banks wouldn’t question any orders from him. Still, she was surprised at how blatantly the crime was committed. No complex web of transactions involving fictitious invoices, offshore entities, or off balance-sheet financing.

  This fraud was executed with three wire transfers, and no one thought to raise the alarm. After all, Bryant signed off on them. The whole thing seemed too simple. Why had Bryant left evidence of the wire transfers in his desk where it could be easily found? And how could such colossal fraud escape detection for two days?

  Outside the daylight ebbed as the rain drummed softly against the floor-to-ceiling windows, turning the lights across Coal Harbor into streaky blurs. She sipped her cold coffee and tossed the empty popcorn bag into the trash can. Why was everything a double-edged sword? She lands her biggest client to date but discovers the same day it’s facing bankruptcy. She and Jace score a house at a bargain-basement price, but she has no money to pay for it.

  Kat meticulously sifted through the last fat file of bank transfers, looking for a pattern. Fraudsters planning massive rip-offs usually tested the waters with smaller transactions first. If Bryant had tried and was sloppy about it, she might get a break. But after four hours, all she had to show for her efforts was eyestrain and a headache.

  Kat glanced at the outstanding stock-options list. One name caught her eye. As CFO for ten years, Bryant had accumulated a large number of stock options, more even than Susan in her short tenure as CEO. Interestingly, he never exercised any of them, although they were exercisable and in the money. Kat did a quick calculation. At today’s closing price they were worth a cool three hundred and twenty-two million. It didn’t make sense. How much money did one person need? Why would Bryant rip off five billion dollars but leave three hundred and twenty-two million on the table?

  6

  The old Victorian’s stairs creaked under Kat’s feet as she ascended them, headed for the leaded-glass front doors. The house definitely needed repairs, but in the daylight Kat could see its potential much better than she could during last night’s tour by flashlight.

  Flanking the stairs were a pair of giant rhododendrons, with smaller azaleas and other shrubbery filling out the front garden. All the garden needed was a good pruning to bring everything back to scale. The house, with its peeling paint and ornate trim, reminded her of a faded gingerbread house. It just needed a few repairs. But repairs cost money.

  It was really Jace’s house, she reminded herself. She’d never be able to come up with the forty thousand she now owed him. Even solving the Bryant fraud quickly wouldn’t bring a paycheck for months. She should never have agreed to invest with Jace in the first place, even if their bid was a long shot.

  Kat turned the knob on the unlocked door and went inside. The morning sunlight streamed into the foyer, catching dust flecks in its beam. The house appeared a lot different from what she had imagined last night. Especially the furniture, most of which seemed as old as the house. Well cared-for antiques, inexplicably abandoned to the city tax sale.

  “Jace?” No answer.

  She paused by the hallway entry table and picked up some letters resting atop the pile of flyers and newspapers. A telephone bill and an electricity bill were both addressed to Verna Beechy and marked ‘Final Notice’. Another envelope promising hundreds of dollars in coupon savings was addressed to Current Occupant. Nothing personal that Kat could see. Who was Verna, and what had happened to her?

  As she deposited the letters back on the table, she noticed an antique Birdseye maple armoire just inside the front door. She opened the door and peered inside. Several ladies coats hung on hangers, with sensible shoes and boots paired neatly below. Rockports, Cole Haan flats, and a pair of Hush Puppies ankle boots. Walking shoes. Shoes said a lot about a person. Verna was a practical woman with an eye for quality. Sensible women like that didn’t exit the world with unpaid bills, or forfeit their possessions in a tax sale.

  Kat expected Verna to materialize at any moment, back from a trip to the grocery store to find two strangers in her house. Kat quickly closed the armoire door, feeling like a trespasser.

  “Kat? In here.”

  She followed Jace’s voice into the dining room. A heavy oak table was pushed against the wall, with eight chairs stacked upon it. The drapes were looped into a knot to raise them off the fir floor, which was covered by an inch of water where the floor slanted. Pails were placed strategically around the room, on the floor, and on a large oak sideboard.

  Jace was bent over a Shop Vac, sporting rolled-up pants and rubber boots. His broad shoulders formed a V-shape, and his muscles rippled under his white cotton T-shirt as he emptied the canister. Ex-boyfriend or not, he was still the best-looking man she had ever laid eyes on.

  “What happened?”

  “Leaking roof. Remember the rain last night?” Jace straightened and promptly hit his head against the hanging chandelier.

  How could he have such an eye for detail, yet be ambushed by a chandelier in plain sight?

  “Damn!” he cursed as the light fixture swung back and hit him again.

  “Ouch—you okay?” Kat grabbed the light to steady it and touched the side of his head. For a split second she forgot they weren’t a couple anymore. They had both moved on, and this was strictly a business deal.

  Jace said nothing at first, his eyes following her hand as it dropped from his face.

  “I’m fine. See that?” He pointed to the ceiling. A crack ran across the plaster from one end of the room to the other.

  “Can it be fixed?”

  “Sure—just need time and money. I’ve got a tarp on the roof. We’ll get that repaired first, then hire someone to re-plaster the ceiling. If we can soak up the rest of the water quickly, the floorboards might not warp.”

  Kat glanced down as water seeped into her suede boots and headed to the kitchen. She dropped her laptop and bag on the table and sat down to take off her boots. That’s when she saw the paper.

  The Five Billion Dollar Man: A Lesson in Corruption by Jace Burton.

  “You’re writing a story on Liberty?” Kat’s pulse quickened as she read the first few lines. It had details about the wire transfers. Details no one knew but her.

  “Trying to. Till the roof leaked.” He followed her into the kitchen, carrying a pail of water.

  “Where did you get this?” She waved the paper at him. There was only one place it could have come from.

  Jace didn’t answer. He poured the water into the sink, avoiding her glare.

  “You got this off my laptop? How could you
, Jace? That’s like spying.” She pulled off her boots and threw them at the wall, no longer caring whether they got wet or not. What else had he found?

  Jace spun around as the boots thudded against the baseboard.

  “It’s not like I touched it or anything. You left your laptop on at the office last night, and I just happened to walk by.”

  “You happened to walk by? My laptop, inside my office—and facing away from you? You expect me to believe that?”

  She stood and strode back into the dining room and grabbed a mop.

  “You really should think about a screen saver. No—on second thought, don’t.”

  He feinted to the right as she headed towards the kitchen sink with the mop.

  “This isn’t funny, Jace. That’s confidential information.”

  “But it’s such a juicy story. The CFO and the bankrupt diamond mine.”

  “Not bankrupt yet.”

  “Will be.”

  “Not if I can help it.” What was she saying? She still didn’t want the case.

  “I need a story, Kat. Roofs are expensive. And refinished floors aren’t exactly cheap. We can do some of it ourselves, but it’s still going to cost a lot.”

  Kat tallied the numbers in her head. Their fix-and-flip scenario wasn’t looking too promising. Even with the Liberty money.

  “Can’t we get out of this? Sell it to the next highest bidder?”

  “And give up a chance to make a tenfold profit? No way.”

  “Well, you’re not writing this story at my expense.”

  “Relax, Kat. It’s just a draft. When the press release comes out on Monday, I’ll have my story already written.”

  “Susan won’t issue a press release.”

  “But she has to.”

  “Jace, about the house—I need to tell you—”

  “Don’t change the subject, Kat. I need this story. Everything there is to write has been written on the bank failures, the foreclosures, and the bankers with their fat bonuses. Liberty is new, and it could be huge. Don’t let someone else scoop it. Please?”

  Kat sighed. There was one way it might work.

  “Okay. On the condition you don’t write about anything nonpublic.”

  “But if there’s no press release, what public information is there?”

  “Nothing right now. But the faster I solve it, the sooner it becomes public.” Jace’s investigative skills could come in handy if she could be sure he would keep silent. And Jace, as a director of Carter & Associates, had signed a confidentiality agreement.

  “Remember the nondisclosure agreement you signed? As a director, you’re bound by it.”

  “I can’t report anything? You’re torturing me!”

  “How often do you come across five billion-dollar fraud cases?”

  “Fine. It’s a deal. So what do you know?”

  “Not much. It seems like Bryant moved the money around a lot. I traced it through Bermuda, Guernsey, the Caymans, and then the trail went cold in with a numbered account in Lebanon.”

  “Lebanon? Why would he move it there?”

  “Good question. He probably hoped we would lose the trail with all the activity. Besides, it’s not a bad place to end up if you’re hiding stolen money. Lebanon’s bank secrecy laws are very tight, which is exactly how crooks like it. The Lebanese banking commission can’t access individual account information or depositor names. Only the bank manager knows the details, and he’s legally forbidden to provide any information. That means untraceable, since banks are prohibited by law to disclose any details to anyone, even law enforcement.”

  “Does Bryant have any connections there? Does he even speak the language?”

  “He doesn’t have to. With electronic commerce, you don’t have to physically be there. He can just maintain an account and have it wired anywhere in the world.”

  “So, what’s next? How are you going to find him?”

  “I’ll scan Liberty’s banking records some more and look for other suspicious transfers. Maybe he left a clue, some smaller transactions as a test. Most people don’t pull off a fraud of this magnitude without trying something more modest first. And, strangely enough, when the amounts aren’t as big, they aren’t as careful. It’s almost like they’re still playing around and haven’t made up their minds, so they’re less likely to cover all the bases. The money will end up in the same place, but with fewer transfers along the way.” Kat wrung her mop out into a pail.

  “So, what do you know about Bryant, Jace? You must’ve covered him and Liberty in the business section before. Anything unusual?”

  “Not really. I’ve actually met him a couple of times. Last time, I interviewed him for a piece on mining in Canada’s north. Smart guy. Knows the business. He also has a geology degree. He got that before deciding to go into finance.”

  That was news to Kat. Susan never mentioned anything about a geology degree. “What did you find out about him?”

  “Well, he figured the Canadian north was the next big thing. Said global warming was a huge benefit to Canada, and in particular Liberty. He thought the opening of the Northwest Passage would result in huge transportation cost savings and better accessibility for mining in the far north. And, he said Liberty would overtake DeBeers in size within the next ten years.”

  “Sounds like he was in it for the long haul.” So why steal the money? Again it didn’t make sense. Bryant stood to gain more if he just stuck around, instead of risking everything and turning into a fugitive for the rest of his life.

  Kat’s cell phone rang. It was Harry.

  “Looks like things at Liberty just got a lot more complicated.”

  “What do you mean?” Weren’t things complicated enough trying to find a missing CFO and five billion dollars in only a week?

  “Alex Braithwaite has been murdered. Cops just found his body on the shores of the Fraser River.”

  7

  “What can you tell me about Alex Braithwaite?”

  The details on the morning news were sparse. Braithwaite was killed with a single bullet to the head, execution style. His car was parked near the river where he was found.

  “You mean the guy murdered last night?”

  Cindy Wong sat across from Kat, tracing a manicured nail over her latest fashion accessory, a rose tattoo above her wrist. Kat hoped it was the temporary kind. They sat in Kat’s office, watching a floatplane outside in the harbor as it coasted in for a landing.

  “The same. He worked for my client, Liberty Diamond Mines.” After talking it over with Jace, she’d decided to take the case.

  “I’m not homicide, Kat. I don’t know any more than what you hear on TV. Besides, just like you, I can’t discuss details of cases under investigation.”

  For an undercover cop, Cindy’s latest disguise was, well, flamboyant.

  “Hair extensions?”

  “Like ‘em?”

  Not only was Cindy’s hair twice as long as it had been last week, it was now platinum blonde, in braids.

  “Absolutely stunning. Got a new assignment?” The nature of Cindy’s undercover work meant she often changed her appearance, but this was her most outrageous look yet.

  “No. Same one. Just thought it was time to spice things up a bit. My underworld friends like it. Kind of a disguise within a disguise, I guess.” Cindy smiled.

  “The police really don’t have any suspects in Braithwaite’s murder?” Kat recalled Braithwaite’s comments. Did he know his killer?

  “None that I know of.” Cindy’s cell phone rang. “Gotta go.”

  Harry skidded into the office, almost colliding with Cindy as she got up to leave.

  “Kat, Liberty’s stock is collapsing! What am I going to do?”

  Kat punched in Liberty’s stock trading symbol, LDM, into her laptop.

  Sure enough, the stock was plummeting. In the first hour of trading Liberty had lost half its value.

  “Sorry, Uncle Harry. I don’t know what to say.”

 
; She clicked through to the news releases. Braithwaite’s murder had forced Susan to disclose the fraud and Bryant’s disappearance.

  “How soon can you find the money?” Harry leaned against the wall, his head buried in his hands.

  “I’m working on it.”

  “I’m going to be sick,” Harry said, his face ashen. He dropped a printout on her desk and slid down the wall, collapsing in a slump on the floor.

  “My broker said it was a sure thing.”

  “The only sure thing is his commission.” Kat picked up the paper. It was a printout of Harry’s account history from Bancroft Richardson.

  “They just called me. Said I have a margin call.”

  Kat studied the printout. “You bought Liberty stock on margin?” Buying on margin was essentially a loan from your broker, secured by the stock you owned in your account. If the stock value decreased, you had to put up more money.

  “Oh, I’ve got money troubles, Kat. Big troubles.”

  “Do you ever.” Uncle Harry had bought two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth of Liberty stock. It was now trading at a fraction of that and would probably be almost worthless by the end of the day. Kat felt sick herself.

  “You ever hear of diversification?”

  “I had to get in before the share price took off. And Bancroft Richardson even lent me the money to buy more. Elsie’s going to kill me. We’ll have to re-mortgage the house.”

  “Let’s see. You owe one hundred and fifty thousand. Not good. You’ll either have to deposit more money, or sell the stock.”

  “But selling locks in my losses. It’s going to rebound, right?”

  “I can’t tell you that, Uncle Harry. You have to decide for yourself.”

  Kat looked closer. The last transaction was dated yesterday.

  “You bought more yesterday? After you knew I was on the case?”

  “I didn’t know about the stolen money. But I know you’ll find it. A month from now, this is going to seem like a bargain.”

  “You invested more just because they hired me?”