Soul Intentions

by Michael Cantwell

Robert Rapio and Carl Peterson became adversaries. Robert took a few of Carl’s clients with him when he left the law firm. He also didn't live up to his employment contract on several points. Threats of litigation were pushed in each direction, but Peterson’s law firm came to an agreement. The law firm wanted to distance themselves from Robert’s twelve percent plan.

  Robert's business thrived with high profile clients from movie stars, to owners of professional sports franchises. Robert became, “Hollywood’s Financial Shadow.” When he did travel beyond his office or residential walls, it was in disguise. His clients didn’t care. Some were making as much as a whopping twenty five percent return, while newer clients were still getting their twelve percent.

  “Tell me the secret, Robert," a high ranking official asked. "How's it possible that you can keep up this track record of such high returns over several years now?”

  “There's no secret or trick. I studied economic trends for several years, and it seems I have a knack for predicting the market. It's all I can tell you.”

  “I really can’t complain with the results, but I just don’t see how this is all sustainable. I'm a former Wall Street man myself. I just don’t see how this is possible.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Treasury Secretary. I'm the Hank Aaron of financial home runs.”

  “I'd like to meet with you in person, so you can at least give me some idea of how you spot a trend or a better idea of how all this works. I can't explain it, other than I'm good at picking trends won't cut it here in Washington.”

  “Are you accusing me of fraud or deceit, Mr. Secretary?”

  “Should I be, Robert?”

  The battle of egos escalated. “You're welcome to send auditors from the Security and Exchange Commission if you like, however as you are aware, I do not take meetings with anyone.”

  “You will if Congress subpoena’s your ass to appear in Washington. That I can promise you.”

  “My record speaks for itself. I've never been accused of a crime, and I've been audited in the past. I don't like the tone of this conversation. So it is now over.”

  Many were curious about Robert and his trends. Others saw their accounts grow fatter and never questioned the results. However, pressure mounted on Robert from Washington to prove there was no fraud. Auditors arrived from California to review Robert’s records. When they visited two years previous, they found nothing but legitimate trades, and solid investments, and all within the boundaries of the law.

  Robert was on a hot streak of analyzing trends. It wasn't that he really had a system as much as he was good at what he did. However, over time, the rate of returns started to slip. Robert’s promises of twelve percent would sometimes evaporate. The auditors wanted to check to make sure Robert wasn't running a Ponzi scheme, where he was taking funds from new investors and allocating them to older client’s accounts.

  Robert didn’t hit on every trend. Eventually, the growth rate of clients slowed. It became harder to keep up with the twelve percent growth rates. The fear was that Robert was robbing Peter to pay Paul when he could not keep up with the growth rates promised. He knew if he could not get back on his winning ways, he might lose clients and his tag of being a genius with numbers.

  This time when the Security and Exchange auditors arrived at Robert’s office, all they found were a few dead bugs and a sign on the door that read, “Gone Fishin.” In speaking with Robert's landlord, no one had seen activity in the office for many months, however the rent came in a timely manner. The address on the lease led the investigators to an abandoned warehouse. The office phone number was shut down the day before their arrival. Robert and his secretary were now ghosts. The FBI and local officials were being brought in to locate Robert Rapio and Jackie Monet.

  “Caeles, the soul of your subject is now very dark," Elder Orcus said. "It's time for you to remove his soul. You've read the file and know his previous addresses. Our informants don't have any more information than you just read. You don't have to call for permission once your subject is in sight. Do your duty.”

  I headed over to Robert’s office looking for any clues. Nothing. The place was stripped cleaner than a used dog bone. I decided to head over to an old friend’s precinct, Detective Wilson to see if he had any information about the disappearance of Robert and Jackie.

  “Agent Latens, I never thought I would see you again after letting that fugitive get away. What was his name, oh yea Blake. I know you met with him and his father. I had one of my men follow you around for a couple of days. You let that many escape, Latens. Don’t deny it. You promised me a collar, but you allowed him to get away.”

  “That’s not true. Well, not all of it. I did meet with him and his father, that part is true. But I wanted to hear his side of the story before I called you. He wanted assurances his head was not going to be blown to pieces the moment he stepped out the door. Before I could call to set it all up, they overpowered me and disappeared.”

  “That’s a load of crap and you know it. You let that murdering son of a bitch get away. I would have locked your ass up that day, but I had my man try to stay on Blake and his father. By the time back up arrived, you were gone. I should still lock you up now, but let’s hear what you have to say first.”

  “Detective, I can’t blame you for being pissed at me, but I didn’t let the guy escape without consequences. He is paying for his sins. You will have to trust me, but that is not why I am here. I am looking for Robert Rapio and his secretary. I know your department has an APB out on them. What can you tell me?”

  “I can tell you that I don’t trust you farther than I can spit. Even if I had anything on either of them, I wouldn't be spilling it to you. If you had any sense at all, you would turn around and never come through my precinct again. Besides, I thought you Fed’s already assigned someone to find him. Another uptight Bureau man with the same dark suit as you, came asking me about Rapio two days ago."

  Wilson scrambled around some papers on his wooden desk.

  "Let me look at his card. Nesstor, that’s the guy. He tried to cozy up to me claiming he was just like me in Chicago, before he got asked to join with you Fed boys after he cracked some big murder case. He thought he could get more information from me by acting like he’s still a local cop. I told him I was burned by you Fed boys once and it wouldn't happen again. If I was thinking straight at the time, I would of told him your name. Now, like I said, remove your face from my presence, before I find something to charge you with and hold you at least overnight. You and me, we got nothing more to say to each other.”

  I called our informant inside the CIA and had him do a check on Rapio’s and Monet’s passports. It turns out neither ever applied for one, at least not under their birth names. It was possible both were still in the States. Since the trail was cold, I had to follow the old adage, to follow the money. I started to make calls to the few, who I knew were clients of Robert.

  “Detective, even if I knew where Rob was hiding, I wouldn't tell you. He made me quite a bit of money over the past few years. Yes, I know they claim he's hiding somewhere, but he never stole one dime from me. I had complete access to my money at all times. In fact, just to be on the safe side, after I heard the cops were looking for him, I had my accountant move the funds I had with his company into a new account. It was all there, every penny. Robert is not a thief. I felt bad about moving it, but he didn’t return my calls. I've known him since his days back in New York. I was working on a soap opera, when he was assigned to my account. He had just graduated college and I wasn't real happy Peterson dumped Rob on me, but he came through big time. Soon after I landed my big role in, “Three Long Days.” Rob was always an odd fella, but he’s not a crook.”

  “I am of the understanding you are the reason he relocated to Hollywood, Mr. Westwood. Is that true?”

  “Rob always made his own decisions. I did set him up with a few friends from my soap days and some people I had met out here, that is true, but he's his
own man.”

  “Is there anything you can tell me about his secretary, Jackie Monet?”

  “I only met her a few times. She came here with Rob. Even after everyone claimed Rob went into seclusion, he would stop by for dinner about once a month. She came a few times with him. That was the big joke Detective. Rob was never in seclusion. He would go to sporting events, parties wherever he wanted. He was all over this town. He was living the dream. He would put on some silly costume and go out in public all the time. He would come dressed as an old man, a woman, I never knew what to expect from the guy. But as far as his girlfriend, I really can’t offer much.”

  “Hold one here, Mr. Westwood. You said his girlfriend. We are talking about Jackie Monet, his secretary right?”

  “You can call her what you like, but she was more than his secretary.”

  "I appreciate your time, Mr. Westwood. If Mr. Rapio or Miss Monet contacts you, would you please let me know? I would like to ask them a few questions.”

  “Rob is a good friend. He didn’t steal my money, and I don’t want to see him hurt. You have a good day, Mr. Latens.”

  I contacted several of Rapio’s clients and they all said the same thing. “The guy is a genius with money. When you find him, please bring him back, he’s been the best broker I have ever known.”

  A few days later, while sitting at home with Kalani and Nicon, the phone rang with a sorrowful voice on the other end, “A friend tells me you are calling around looking for me.”

  “Yes, I am. I would like to meet with you and help you out of the mess you are in right now.”

  “Agent Latens, I'm not stupid enough to think you're out to help me, but I'll meet with you and try to set the record straight. I'm in Los Angeles. There's a Dodger game tonight. I'll meet you in the parking lot at section seven, row seven at seven p.m., if I see anything that looks like trouble, you'll never hear from me again.”

  Kalani didn’t like the arrangement because with all the people walking into the ball park, it would be hard to get a photo without someone else jumping into the frame. It's possible for our kind to take photos of people without stealing a soul, but anytime we're taking a photo with intent to steal, anyone else in the frame loses their soul as well. She was right. It was a risky site. I was standing at the marked site long before the appointed time.

  The parking lot filled with fans heading into Dodger Stadium. The game was against the rival Giants from San Francisco. Fifty thousand men, women and children were streaming through the turnstiles from all directions. Kids were tossing balls with their dads before game time. A few fans had set up grills and were munching on burgers and Dodger Dogs. Radios were blasting all types of music as well as the pregame talk show. I was somewhat anxious not knowing what to expect with so many people around and not sure what my subject would even look like. All I could do was to stand against the pole and wait.

  “Don’t turn around, Agent Latens. If you do, I'll mix in with the crowd and be gone for good. I wanted someone to hear my side of the story. You know, to set the record straight. These people, they trusted us with their money, and I stole it. I didn’t take much compared to what I could have taken. The business took its fee off the top. There was plenty to go around."

  I took all my patience not to turn around and see who was behind the voice, but I held firm as the story continued.

  "These entertainers and movie moguls, they have so much, and not just money. Everyone knows them and loves them, why would they miss a few dollars here and there? I wanted to be them and since I couldn’t, I grabbed their money. The minute Robert noticed that I was stealing from his clients, he was furious with me. He'd given me all I could have wanted, except for one thing. He even tried to give me that. He begged some of his clients to give me one more chance at stardom. When they wouldn't even let me read for a part, I had my revenge. I stole from those movie makers, who refused to give me my real dream. Fame. I only stole from three accounts, Agent Latens. You must believe me. I don’t know how much it was really, maybe five million dollars, I didn’t keep track."

  I could hear the lineups being introduced from the ballpark as she continued.'

  Robert was so embarrassed with it all. He was trying to replace the money and put it back in the accounts before the auditors arrived, but he ran out of time. I gave him back what I still had left. I think he called one of them to apologize, but I don’t know where Robert is now. I know he loves me very much, but I messed it all up. I'm not sure what is worse for him, my betrayal or letting people know that his secretary could steal millions of dollars right under his nose. But please believe me, he's completely innocent.”

  “I'm not here in search of Robert or the money. I'm only searching for you Jackie. Others can judge you and Robert in court. That is not my mission.”

  “You don’t understand. I wanted to be on the big screen with all my being. Robert believed in me, and did all he could to help my dream come true. I admit it. I loved the idea of being a star more than thinking about what all of this would do to Robert. Once he realized what I was doing, I thought he would have me arrested. To my surprise, he told me to stay in town for a couple of weeks and he would handle it. He didn’t want me to go to jail, but he didn’t want others to think his client’s money wasn't safe with him either. He wanted to find a way to put it all back. You have to believe me, Agent Latens. He has no idea I contacted you. I called one of his friends to see if they knew where he was. They told me that you and another agent have been calling around looking for Robert and me. Don’t let him go to jail over all of this.”

  I could hear her sobbing. I thought this would be a good time to turn and snap her photo. I wasn't sure I could identify her if others were near, but I didn’t hear any ambient noise since the game had begun. Most fans were now inside the stadium. I had to try. I turned and only saw one person behind me. A beautiful woman, donning a baseball cap and wiping the tears from her eyes. I raised the camera and took the shot. She fell to the ground. I motioned for Detective Wilson and his men to come over as I tried to get away. I could feel my body start to get the rush of energy. It is a sensation almost too hard to explain. Even though you feel the rush, your body can't handle it for a minute or two. It was in those brief moments that Wilson came charging over and arrested Jackie Monet.

  “I'm surprised, but you did what you said you would this time, Latens. You're almost back in my good graces.”

  “Give me a moment, Detective. I need to catch my breath. I promised you if Monet admitted her guilt, I would call you over and I did. She confessed to it all.”

  I could see them start to load Monet into the police car with another vehicle pulling into view. I still didn’t have all my senses back, but I did feel much stronger and more alive. I did my best to stall Wilson with idle chat while attempting to get myself back to feeling normal.

  “Agent Latens, meet Special Agent Elliot Nesstor. I promised him he could take Miss Monet away after I got the credit for the arrest. It’s kinda funny. I feel like I am the middle man between the two of you.”

  “Monet admitted to me that she is responsible for taking the money. Rapio is innocent. I figured I owed you a favor Wilson, and I delivered. I am sorry that everyone was putting so many resources into finding Rapio, but Jackie is your criminal. Now, like we agreed, get your story straight. She called you directly Wilson, not me, to explain her case, you arrested her. Now keep my name from your report as promised.”

  Nesstor jumped into the conversation. “Wait. Why wouldn't you want credit in the arrest?"

  “Let it go," I said. "Detective Wilson is under the impression that I owed him an arrest, so I was helping him out. I work this area and I wanted to keep a good relationship with the local detectives.”

  “No, no, no, that’s not how all this works. I was looking for her and Rapio just like you and Wilson. The FBI should get the credit for the arrest. You were the arresting officer and Wilson told me you work with us.”

  Nesstor’s fa
ce morph into something from an alien invasion movie. “Holy crap. It’s you. I thought you looked familiar to me. Now I know why. Wilson, how long have you known this guy?”

  “I don’t know, a year or more. Why?”

  “I knew this person back in Chicago. He showed up at two murder scenes and now he’s out here posing as FBI. This man is not FBI. I don’t know who he is, but I can assure you, he’s not with the Bureau.”

  “I thought that too, Nesstor," Wilson said. "I ran his credentials. He’s one of you Fed boys. I'm not sticking him in a car and taking him with me. I got what I wanted and I gave him my word he would walk free after I got Monet. You two argue over, who each of you really might be, but keep me out of it. Nesstor, if you want to speak with Monet later, you know where to find her. Latens, thanks for the tip, I’m outa here.”

  CHAPTER Eighteen