John rubs his forehead and stands from the chair. He’s disappointed that Maya’s trying to distract them from their main investigation and avoid their questions. This is the opposite of how he expected the meeting to go.
“We’re looking into all aspects of Mr. Locke’s life. Thank you for the comments on Mr. Tucker, we’ll pursue that thread further. But our main interest remains Robert. He is, after all, responsible for his own actions. Particularly any actions that break laws and harm other people. People that trust him.”
“Do you have a card?” Maya asks as she drops her head into her hands. She lets her hair fall over her face, happy to hide behind it. Resting her elbows on her knees, she tries to figure out what all of this means. “I need some time to think, then I can give you a call. Robbie’s out of town for the weekend so I’ll try to sort through everything from the past few weeks.”
“We’re aware of the retreat he’s currently attending. It’s why we chose now to approach you,” John says as he offers Maya his card. “I’d like to hear from you before he returns.”
She snatches the card without looking up at the FBI agents.
Robbie’s a criminal? How could she not see this coming?
She hears the door to the office open and feels a sense of relief as the agents step out. Finally, feeling alone, Maya takes a deep breath and looks up from her hands.
She jolts back in surprise to find John still standing in the doorway.
“Maya, we know you’re a good person. It’s why we’re here today. I’m counting on you to keep this discussion private, especially from Robbie. It would be devastating if he were to discover we’re on to him.”
Maya feels like she’s in a dream as she looks at John. She’s struggling to believe this conversation is real. But she tries to force herself to accept that it is. She can’t stay in shock, she knows she needs to decide on a course of action. She wonders if she should call Robbie right away and tell him. Or wait until he’s back in town? Or follow her conscience and keep it a secret so she can try to help the FBI?
After a moment of weighing the options, Maya realizes John is still standing there and watching her. He expects an answer, a commitment. So, she nods her head, hoping it will get him to leave. Deep down, she isn’t sure if her brain will follow the agreement her body’s making.
John mimics the head nod as his way of saying goodbye and closes the door so Maya can have a true moment of privacy.
Nothing in this case has been breaking right for them. It figures that this is yet another dead-end witness.
Walking back out through the newsroom, John does his best to ignore the reporters watching him. He keeps his head down and feet moving, trying to catch up with Pete.
They reconnect in front of the elevators, right as they chime to signal the arrival of one. John’s grateful Pete actually called for one instead of wasting more time showing off pictures of his newborn twins. He never thought he would miss working with the young hotshot agents always trying to flirt with anything that moves, but then Pete came along. This is their first case together, and John’s hoping it will be their last. He’s sick of seeing pictures of the two damn newborns.
Boarding the elevator, he hates the goofy smile on Pete’s face. Apparently, they just sat through a completely different meeting. The smile makes John feel the need to summarize the results of the meeting for him.
Stepping to the back corner of the elevator, he rests his head against the mirror and waits for the doors to close on them before speaking. In his heart, John knows they need find another source. He doubts Maya will be of any help.
Chapter Ten
Feeling the glares from around the office, John offers his most obnoxious smile in response.
Walking between the rows of computers, he unzips and zips his FBI windbreaker. With so much loathing permeating the room, he wants to keep as much attention on him as possible. He can handle it, his people don’t need the hassle. Besides, he wants their attention. He’s here today to send a message and he wants the whole Street to be talking about this before the closing bell.
“Again, I’ll remind everyone not to touch their computers,” John announces. “The faster you help us find everything we’re here for, the faster you can get back to business.”
He strolls to the front of the office and stretches his arms out to give everyone a good view of the FBI insignia on his back. As he relaxes his shoulders, John notices a box of assorted pastries on the receptionist’s desk and helps himself to one. As he turns around to walk back down the row of desks, he licks his fingers and rubs a hand on his belly. He wants to rub salt into the wounds and thinks this injury needs a little insult to go along with it.
Hearing yelling from one of the private offices quickens John’s pace as he rushes over to see what the commotion is about. It isn’t hard to locate the office as the sound of the voice leads him to a cluster of his agents. It’s Wyatt’s voice doing the yelling, begging Jalen to cooperate.
“They’re just doing their job,” Wyatt pleads.
“Yeah, well, their job is interfering with mine,” Jalen shouts. “Can’t they come back after the markets close?”
“We’re here now,” John says as he strolls into the office. He ignores Jalen and addresses his agents. “Is this man obstructing our search warrant in any way?”
“No, of course not,” Wyatt says before the FBI agents can answer. “Everyone is just a little surprised by this search and it’s throwing some moods off. But rest assured, your team will have no trouble leaving here with all the documents this warrant entitles you to.”
“That’s good to hear. Cooperation is always looked kindly upon,” John says at an unnecessarily high volume in the doorway. He’s making sure the rest of the office workers hear his words, in case any are considering their options and doubting their loyalty to their boss.
“We know. I’m sure your agents can report back nothing but cooperation here today. We have nothing to hide.”
“I appreciate that. Would you be able to do me another favor and speak with that angry-looking Russian man who keeps flipping me off?”
Wyatt turns away from Jalen and lets out a heavy sigh as he surveys the office and spots who John’s talking about.
“I’m sorry. You’ll have to excuse Luka. He’s a whizz with computers but isn’t the best at communicating with other people.”
“I believe he’s communicating his feelings quite effectively. He’s making me well aware of his intended message.”
“Luka, cool it,” Wyatt shouts as he scurries out of Jalen’s office.
Before leaving the office to follow Wyatt, John turns back to Jalen. It’s his first time looking at Jalen and he gives an angry glare to hammer his message home.
Satisfied Jalen won’t interfere with his team again, he returns to his stroll through the desks to make sure none of his other agents are encountering trouble conducting their search warrant.
He reconvenes with Wyatt at the front of the room by the elevators. John smiles when he notices someone has since moved the box of pastries out of sight. He doesn’t bother looking for them. His message has already hit home, and his agents are starting to line up boxes of paper copies and hard drives on the floor beside the elevators. They’re almost done here.
“Is Robert Locke planning to exit his office and speak with us at any point during this raid?”
“He’s working,” Wyatt responds. He crosses his arms and steps to block John’s view of Robbie’s office. “Is there something specific you need to speak with him about?”
“Not necessarily. It’s just unusual to receive such a subdued reaction from the head of a firm we raid with a search warrant. Was he expecting us?”
“I don’t believe so. Did you tell him you were coming?”
“Don’t be stupid,” John says, narrowing his eyes to study Wyatt for any signs of lying. “A man like that has access to more judges and politicians than I do. Did someone tip him off?”
“I c
ertainly wasn’t informed of this impending visit. I think he’s just busy and doesn’t want to get in the way of your men carrying out their duty.”
“I always expect greater reactions from men we accuse of being criminals. His response is telling me we’re barking up the right tree. Perhaps he doesn’t want to come out here and say anything that could incriminate himself later in our investigation.”
“I assure you nothing could be further from the truth, officer. He’s just busy working. Once you review all of the documents you’re taking today, you’ll see we have absolutely nothing to hide and no wrong-doing has occurred at Merry Men Financial Management.”
John notices Pete marching toward them with a look of disappointment and decides his role in this search is about finished. He bends over and picks up one of the cardboard boxes, his small way of helping his team transport the evidence.
“We’ll see about that. And don’t you worry about our dedication to justice, whether that means cleaning your name or pursuing charges. I will be thorough and comb through all of this evidence myself.”
“All I see are financial records. There’s no evidence here, officer.”
“Please, you can call me Special Agent Knott,” John says again, a little too loudly. “Officer is so impersonal. I want everyone here to be well aware of the man ending their careers and sending them to prison. Or the man who can offer witnesses immunity.”
“There are no criminals here,” Wyatt interrupts the speech. “No one needs to worry about prison or their careers. This will all be cleared up once you leave and review everything you’re seizing.”
Pete gives John a nod as he walks past Wyatt, prompting John to lean forward and summon an elevator.
“I think we’re all set,” Pete announces for the office to hear.
“Thank you, Special Agent Connelly. If our search is complete, we’ll be getting out of your hair. Temporarily.”
John steps back into the elevator without ever taking his eyes off of Wyatt. Pete kicks the button for the elevator to take them down to the parkade with both their hands holding onto the boxes. In response to the colorful duo, Wyatt offers his best toothy smile until the elevator doors shut. He remains at the front of the office and tries to stay cordial as the rest of the FBI agents pick up the remaining evidence boxes and wait for the elevators.
It’s the opposite of the general Merry Men approach. Most of the office follows Luka’s lead and stand on their desks to salute the FBI with their middle fingers.
Horrified at the display of vulgarity, Wyatt slides behind the agents and motions for everyone to get down, praying none of the officers turn around and notice.
Thankfully, they don’t.
Once the last agent disappears down the elevators, Wyatt collapses into a nearby chair. This is his first FBI raid since joining the firm and he’s thankful they’re not a common occurrence. His job is stressful enough without also needing to be a babysitter.
Finally, after a few minutes of peace and quiet, Robbie stands and emerges from his office. He watches the elevators and avoids looking at his employees as he crosses the office and meets Wyatt.
“Are they done?”
“Yeah, no issues. They took everything their warrant entitled them to. I’ll call our outside counsel and start formulating a plan for whatever accusations they’re throwing at us.”
“Why didn’t you call them as soon as those guys showed up?”
“I wanted to monitor their search but not be seen as putting up a fight. Trust me, I have experience with these guys. It’s always best to be viewed as cooperating.”
“We all have experience with them.”
Robbie isn’t thrilled with Wyatt, but the FBI’s departure is keeping his mood upbeat. He’s sure they didn’t find anything worrisome in the office because there’s nothing to find.
Now, he knows he needs to address the rest of his team and assure them of that. He turns away from Wyatt and offers the rest of the office his most comforting and reassuring smile.
“There’s nothing for anybody to worry about. It’s a witch hunt, nothing more. Some of our city’s prosecutors have political ambitions and I’m donating to their opponents. Coming after me is a double whammy of getting their names in the papers and hurting their rivals. You can ignore anything those agents said to you and any threats they made about your jobs. We’re all good here. You have my word.”
Luka’s the first to react. Before Robbie’s even finishes making his comments, he’s back standing on his desk. Once Robbie does give a polite wave to signal he’s finished, Luka erupts into applause. He would support his boss no matter what.
His enthusiasm triggers an entire wave of applause throughout the office. Jalen joins in with some whistles and hoots from the back of the office. Robbie takes it all in and responds to his fans with a simple bow before boarding an elevator and leaving everyone else to clean up the office.
He steps off the elevator two floors below the offices of Merry Men Financial Management.
The 18th floor is home to much less prestigious offices; it feels like an entirely different building. There is no floor to ceiling windows showcasing the Manhattan skyline or East River. Rather than the pristine white floors and pillars to compliment the glass walls and desks, the 18th floor still has an ancient grey carpet with walls painted a tacky shade of yellow. Robbie shudders to think of what that carpet lived through in the ‘70s and ‘80s. He always feels a need to use hand sanitizer after visiting.
He follows the silver nameplates listing the businesses that call the 18th floor home before stopping at a nondescript brown door without a nameplate. Robbie fishes a key out of his back pocket and unlocks the door.
Stepping into the pitch-black room, he quickly closes the door behind him. He was alone on the elevator but never knows who’s watching and doesn’t want anyone to see him entering this office. His hand instantly finds the light switch on the wall and he flicks it on. He doesn’t need light when years of muscle memory can locate it.
“They’re gone,” Robbie announces. “The lockdown is over. We can all get back on with our day.”
On cue, four women pop up from behind the desks in the center of the room. While the FBI was busy upstairs, they were each hiding on their hands and knees in the dark for the past hour. Their heads are barely visible over the mountains of old yellowing paperwork their desks are supporting. The mountains have clearly been accumulating for years, as they’ve suffered enough avalanches to coat the floors and create more stacks.
It’s an easy office to hide in with the piles of paper all over the floor. The only interruption to the documents are the filing cabinets decorating every possible inch of wall space around the room. The entire room is a safety hazard, with some of their drawers bursting open, unable to hold another sheet of paper.
Robbie has seen this all before and ignores it to look at the left wall of the room. After a moment, an old man appears as if from nowhere. He lifts a box out of the way and creates a path for Robbie to follow him back through the doorway hidden by overstuffed filing cabinets and old cardboard boxes.
“Are we okay?” he asks.
Without thinking about it, Robbie lets out a sigh. Realizing the women are all watching him, he offers them a reassuring smile. Frankly, it’s hard for Robbie to see them over the mountains of paperwork.
“Al, we need to talk in your office.”
The two men disappear back through the doorway and Al closes it behind them.
The private room is in as much disarray as the rest of the space. Looking around, Robbie isn’t able to spot any chairs. Instead, he starts moving boxes around. He figures he’ll either find a buried chair or build one.
“This office is a mess, Al.”
“Sorry, boss. We’re not used to visitors down here.”
Al navigates the piles of papers and climbs over an open filing cabinet drawer to retake the old, worn, leather chair behind his desk.
“I’m serious. This all
needs to get cleaned up.” Robbie puts special emphasis on the word ‘clean’ to make sure Al gets the point. “I don’t want to see anything down here that’s more than a year old. If I’m not going to need it for any quarterly or annual reports, I want it gone.”
“That’s a lot of work, boss.”
“I can have new shredders brought down here. It’ll help you guys get through everything,” Robbie says as he gives up on finding a proper seat and leans against the office door. “Most of your existing technology looks older than our firm.”
“Nothing beats a pencil, some paper, and using your ol’ head.”
Rather than insult Al or his old brain, Robbie decides to ignore the comment. Al’s work is good, and essential for the firm’s survival, so his methods won’t be questioned. For now.
“While I doubt there’s much of importance on your computers down here, I’ll be sending Luka down later this week to wipe the hard drives. He’ll also check up on your secretaries’ computer histories to make sure we can still trust all of them.”
“Ah, don’t worry about that part. They’re good ladies. Been with me forever.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. Longevity can mean taking people for granted. I need to make sure no resentment is growing out there. Their loose lips could sink our entire ship.”
“Is this paranoia or was the visit that bad?”
“It was a thorough search warrant, but they don’t seem to know anything about you. The worry is this isn’t some SEC crap with a slap on the wrist and pocket change fines. They were real FBI agents on the hunt. I worry they’ll start asking questions about my head trader once they review the documents and realize no one met you or examined your desk. We’ll have to set up a dummy workspace for you upstairs.”
Robbie doesn’t wait for Al’s reaction. He opens the office door and quickly makes his escape from the 18th floor.
He’s shared all the information that he needs to. Al will understand the message, and the less time spent down here the better. Plus, he’s a little worried that this overeager FBI agent might be tailing him, and time away from his office right after the raid won’t look great.
Robbie's Scheme Page 8
