USA, Inc. (A Mike Wardman Novel: Book 1)

by Larry Kahaner

  He leaned against the right side window and talked in a low voice.

  Rennert looked out the other window and watched the people walking along L Street, talking and enjoying the first days of spring. Many had already jettisoned their winter coats for lighter ones.

  “Okay, I’m back,” Pike said. “My pollster says that voters are going to give this referendum a landslide win, upwards of eighty percent. It’s unprecedented. The only confusion he’s hearing is about how the stock part of it will work. Voters want to know how much their individual shares will be worth, but we can’t yet tell them with any accuracy. All we can give them now is a ballpark figure.”

  “Are you going to offer stock options?” asked Rennert.

  “Absolutely. According to my comptroller, people are lining up to have the right to buy Texas stock, even if it’s a small piece that they can control for a few dollars. He’s receiving inquiries from other states and even overseas. The Chinese have their cash ready.” He laughed. “We’re keeping a tight rein on the unassigned shares. And you know the best part?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Since we’re a private and not a public company, many of the SEC regs don’t apply. It makes life so much easier.” He put a cigarette in his mouth, began to light it, and stopped. “Sorry.”

  Rennert smiled and said, “Pricing is the biggest challenge for us, too. I’ve done our audits with state people, but until the outside auditors do their work, we won’t have a solid number on shares or options. We’re going to offer options, too. Why not? The leverage is compelling and brings in more money for the state.”

  He paused, then said, “I got good news just yesterday. S&P is going to raise our credit rating two notches. The bond buyers seem to like this idea, too. We’re starting public campaigns to educate people about stocks, options, bonds, the whole kit ’n’ caboodle. People who’ve never owned stock, never known what an option is, are going to take part. It’s gonna be great.”

  Pike opened his briefcase. “Look at these.” He produced several sheets. “What do you think?”

  Rennert leafed through the papers. “I like this one,” he said, pointing to a mockup ad showing a rodeo rider being thrown from a longhorn. “Buy Texas. It’s no bull,” he read. “It’s kind of corny, but it works. Simple and to the point.”

  “I agree,” Pike said. “I also like this one.” He pulled out a page with a wildcatter watching an oil geyser shoot into the sky. “Buy Texas. We’re gushing all over. Some of my staff don’t like the word ‘gushing.’ They say it may have some sexual connotation.”

  Rennert tilted his head. “Takes all kinds.”

  Pike returned the papers to his briefcase and stared out the window. “Is there a bumblebee here, Sam? Are we missing something that could sting us?”

  Rennert twisted his wedding ring. “I’ve been over this a million times, Rusty. And I know you have, too.” He clasped his hands. “I suppose we could have missed something, but I don’t think so. It makes economic sense for sure, and politically, well, it’s off the charts. As far as the feds are concerned, we’re getting zero pushback.” He squeezed his fingers. “Justice has signed off on it. Constitutional scholars are on our side. We’re the poster boys for progressive government. What could go wrong?”

  Chapter 49

  Oscar Hicks, Kane’s head of security, couldn’t sleep. If he didn’t find the person responsible for stealing Mr. Kane’s stupid little statue, he’d be on the street, disgraced. And, worse, with nothing to do. The boredom would certainly kill him. He’d called in every favor owed to him, and he had plenty of chits out there. It had been more than twenty-four hours since the heist, but his phone hadn’t rung.

  He knew that when Mr. Kane said, “Do whatever you have to do” to get back the statue, he meant it. If it involved paying a few thousand bucks for information, he would open the company wallet. If it took leaning on a few wise guys, Hicks would have no second thoughts about enhanced interrogation. Whatever it took.

  But, first, the phone had to ring.

  He dreaded going to Kane’s house, but he had no choice. His office was in the basement. He stopped at a traffic light adjacent to a busy commuter lot. It was early, and people were jockeying their cars, looking for their usual riding companions. He rubbed his eyes and took a sip of coffee, trying to energize himself for the long and embarrassing day ahead. As his eyes wandered to the cars, he noticed something odd. A car with a pizza-delivery sign on top lazily roamed the parking lot. Hicks watched as the Honda Civic meandered up and down the lanes, scoping out each car as it passed.

  “What do we have here?” he said to himself. “A booster?”

  Hicks let out a whistle and steered his car to the end of the lot, where he could watch the vehicle make its slow jaunt. It wasn’t his job to collar car thieves. Hell, he wasn’t on the force anymore, but he was intrigued.

  He thought back to the days when, as a rookie detective, he’d logged too many hours warming car seats during stakeouts. As he’d risen in the ranks of the state police, he’d vowed never to endure that tedium again. This time, though, he was not weary of his task. He quivered at the possibilities. He watched.

  The subcompact eventually stopped by a blue van, and the driver stepped out, scratching his head. A woman opened the van door, smiled at the driver as she handed him money, then carried the pizza inside.

  Hicks watched for a few more minutes before deciding to make a move. He still didn’t know why he cared, but his cop senses had taken hold and he couldn’t help himself. Besides, this would put off seeing Mr. Kane and the humiliation of admitting that he had no leads.

  He knocked on the back door of the van. It opened.

  “Did you forget something?”

  Hicks pushed into the van. Evelyn fell back into a chair, her eyes widening.

  Hicks surveyed the inside, took in the electronic gear. He knew immediately from the looks of the equipment that it wasn’t a government surveillance operation.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Evelyn was too frightened to speak. She sat and eyed Hicks as he studied the desk and shuddered when he picked up a stack of papers. Al had rigged the digital recorder to automatically print out transcriptions of conversations, which they would read in the morning instead of having to sit in the van all night.

  “What’s are these?” Hicks asked.

  Evelyn didn’t answer.

  Hicks scanned the printouts and read a portion out loud.

  “‘Will there be anything else, Mr. Kane?’ ‘That’s it for tonight, James. Goodnight.’ ‘Goodnight, sir.’ … I’ll be damned.”

  Could this be the break he needed? “You bugged my boss’s house.” He threw the stack of papers at Evelyn, which scattered when they hit her. “Now I need to know why.”

  Evelyn froze.

  “There, there,” he said softly. Without warning, he slapped her face so hard with the back of his hand that the chair fell back and ended up leaning against the side of the table. He let her sit like that, tilted to the left, vulnerable, until he decided to set it upright. “Now you can cry.”

  Evelyn held her tears.

  Hicks jerked the chair toward him, went behind Evelyn, and cuffed her wrists together.

  “I don’t get to use these very often, but I always carry them. Old habit, I guess.”

  He scuttled around the cramped van, taking his time, examining the equipment. “Looks like somebody put this shit together in their basement.”

  Evelyn’s chin leaned on her chest. Hicks walked over and held her face in his cupped hands. “Do I know you? You look familiar.”

  “We’ve never met,” Evelyn managed. She felt the right side of her face growing warm where he’d hit her. “I’m sure I would have remembered.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Who are you and why are you eavesdropping on my boss?”

  With great effort, Evelyn raised her head so she could look directly at Hicks. She spat.

&nb
sp; He wiped it away with his sleeve. “You know, in the twenty years I was on the police force, no prisoner ever spat at me. You see it all the time in movies, but I’ve never had it happen in real life. This is a first.”

  He put on a glove and punched her in the stomach.

  She groaned and doubled over until her handcuffed arms stopped her forward movement. Hicks grabbed a chunk of hair and pulled her head back. She let out a scream. He slapped her hard in the mouth. Her lip split wide. Sweat dripped down her face and mixed with blood from her mouth. Crimson rivulets ran down her white blouse.

  “Some men don’t like to hit women,” he said. “I believe in equality.” He leaned against the desk. “By the way, you wouldn’t know anything about a little statue, would you?”

  He opened the van door slightly and looked out. No people. All the commuters had left their cars and gone to work. He lifted her off the chair and carried her limp body to his car, where he threw her in the trunk. He gagged her mouth. As he was closing the lid, he saw fear in her eyes. “I think we’ll finish this conversation somewhere else. Someplace a little more private.”

  Chapter 50

  As soon as they pulled into the lot, Mike spotted the van and its open back. He turned to Al and drew his weapon. “We got trouble. Stay in the car.”

  “No way, brother,” Al said. “I’m coming with you.”

  Mike scanned the lot and saw no movement. They approached the van, and Mike yelled, “Evelyn! It’s Mike. We’re here.” He kept his gun pointed at the van. He nodded to Al, then peeked inside. Equipment littered the floor. Cables were scattered like spaghetti. Chairs were overturned.

  Mike knelt and touched the red liquid pooled on the floor, sampled it between his thumb and forefinger.

  “It’s blood,” he said. Al shivered. “Close the door.”

  He turned on the dome light, and they stood amid the chaos.

  Mike’s muscles tightened when he spotted the pizza box. “That’s why she opened the door.” He lifted the lid. “She didn’t eat anything.”

  “Pizza guy?”

  “Maybe,” Mike said. “Stay here. See if you can get this all working again. Check the surveillance printouts. Maybe there’s something there.”

  Al nodded as he surveyed the mess. He slowly began to pick up the electronic gear and wires splayed on the floor and placed them on the table. He had already started to plug some cables into equipment, shaking each one as he did and glad the metal enclosures didn’t return any rattling noises.

  “I’m going to the pizza place,” Mike said as he jumped out.

  He opened the car door and sat for a minute, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel.

  He pushed his back against the seat and started the engine. Gravel peppered the undercarriage as he muscled the car and left the parking lot in a blur of dust. The tires squealed when he hit blacktop.

  The pizza joint was about a half-mile away, and he made it in less than a minute.

  Mike stomped into Sally’s Pizza and stared the counterman in the eye. The employee, in his thirties, had a bodybuilder’s physique, muscles bulging beneath a white T-shirt with the store’s logo on the front. He stared back. Mike curled his fingers, palm up, gesturing him to come nearer. The hunk casually folded his arms and grinned.

  “The fuck you want?”

  Without warning, Mike vaulted the counter and pinned him against the wall. Two teens building pies in the kitchen watched the action and froze in place.

  The man couldn’t catch his breath. Mike asked, “I’m looking for the person who delivered an order to the commuter lot within the last hour.” He gripped the man by his neck and glared at the other two. They shook their heads.

  “That’s m-me,” the man said. His lips trembled. He blinked uncontrollably.

  Mike tightened his grip. “Tell me about the delivery.”

  The man spoke rapidly, his voice now higher. “Well, I thought it was weird—the time, I mean. We get calls from the commuter lot sometimes. People wanting to take a pie home for dinner. But this was early.”

  Mike leaned in, his face an inch from the man’s lantern-shaped jaw. “And?”

  “The ticket said a blue van. I rode around and found it. A woman came out the back, handed me some money, and that was it. I swear.”

  “Was anyone else with her?”

  “I dunno. I didn’t see inside. Honest.”

  Mike released him. He fell against the wood-paneled wall and slid down. Mike checked the two in the kitchen before he walked away. Neither had moved an inch.

  As he stepped outside, he got a call from Al. “I got everything back together. Nothing’s broken, but there’s something you need to hear.”

  “Tell me.”

  Al started to speak, then stopped. “I think you better hear this in person.”

  Chapter 51

  Evelyn awoke. Her head throbbed, and she blinked rapidly, trying to gain focus. All she could muster were fuzzy shapes in varying shades of gray.

  With great effort, she rolled over on her back. The bed was soft, the linens fresh. Her arms and legs felt like lead. She took deep breaths and each one brought with it an electric jolt.

  Silently, she repeated her instructor’s advice at the UN deployment school before she’d left for Africa. Don’t panic. Assess your situation. Ascertain your assets.

  She heard footsteps. A light switch clicked and she squinted at the bright glow. She twisted her head toward the sound and saw an approaching figure.

  He stood before her, looking down.

  “Hello,” Hicks said.

  She tried to sit up, but slid back down. He put his hand under her armpit and righted her against the wall. Her head flopped from side to side. Hicks handed her a bottle of water, and it took her three tries to grab it.

  “Feeling a bit shaky, are we?” he said.

  He uncapped the bottle and handed it back. She put the bottle to her lips—she thought it was her lips, but the swelling wouldn’t allow any sensation, so she missed the mark. Water streamed down her shirt.

  Hicks laughed. “Keep trying.”

  Her body could no longer stay erect, and she collapsed on the bed. The last thing she heard was the plastic bottle bouncing on the cement floor. The last thing she felt was a pinprick in her arm.

  Chapter 52

  “The rest of the money has already been deposited. Funds will be available tomorrow.”

  The words resonated in the surveillance van as Mike and Al played previous night’s recording. Mike looked at his watch. “Shit. I thought we had more time to … What else is on there?”

  Al pressed buttons and lights blinked, reflecting off his glasses. Numbers in red jumped on a screen, then stopped. Speakers barked.

  “I have a lead on the statue, sir.”

  “I don’t want to hear that you have a lead. I want to hear that you have the statue.”

  “Yes, sir. I should have something soon. I’m interviewing a person of interest.”

  “‘Person of interest.’ Police mumbo jumbo. I want results, and I want them yesterday.”

  “Evelyn?” Al asked.

  “It has to be, but it doesn’t sound like Kane knows about her.”

  “If Hicks has her, then he knows about the bug. Why not sweep and destroy it?” Al asked.

  Mike rubbed his chin. “Hicks is no dummy. He knows that we’ll still be listening. He wants us to know he has her because he wants the statue. That’s all he cares about. The statue wasn’t in the van, so he figures Evelyn’s accomplices must have it. She’s bait.” He threw a notebook against the wall. “Damn it. Why did I take that fucking thing? I …”

  He banged the side of the van with his fist. Then again. And again.

  The table shook, and Al leaned over his equipment to keep it from skittering off.

  “Mike, it wasn’t your fault. Taking the statue was a smart move. It made sense at the time, and it would’ve continued to make sense if …”

  Mike steadied his stance. �
�Is there anything else on the recordings?”

  Al pressed some buttons, turned some dials. He tilted his head and tried to make out what he was hearing. “Almost at the end … and … wait. They must be standing far away from the bug. Faint. Hard to make out.” He removed his headphones, gave them to Mike.

  “I can’t understand it. Play it again.” He cupped the headphones. “I can’t make out what they’re saying.”

  “Give me a minute,” Al said. He fiddled with dials. Mike removed the headphones and watched as Al frantically searched for something on the floor, then placed a white box on the table. He connected some wires to it. “Amplifier.”

  He straightened the speakers so they faced directly at them, then played the section multiple times. They both looked at each other.

  “I could only make out one thing—a name. Everything else was muddled.” Al swallowed.

  Mike ran his fingers through his hair and frowned. He smacked his fist into his palm. “What did you hear?”

  Al fiddled with a piece of wire, tied it into a knot. Tossed it on the table. He cleared his throat.

  “Well, what name did you hear?” Mike demanded.

  “Hearst.”

  “Shit. I heard the same damn thing.”

  Chapter 53

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re safe. For now.”

  Evelyn eyed the room, which had the odor of a storeroom, with metal shelves full of bankers’ boxes overflowing with file folders. The walls were painted green. There were no windows.

  “You have something that doesn’t belong to you, and I want it.” Hicks opened a thick book at the bookmark and held the pages in front of Evelyn. He pointed to the eight-inch-tall Senufo statue with its elongated stylized face and body, pointed breasts, and stubby legs. “Personally, I don’t see the big deal with this. But it’s not for me to judge.”

  Evelyn focused on the picture. “I don’t see the attraction either.” She pulled at her handcuffs.