“Where’s Al’s office?” John asks as he turns back to Wyatt.
“Lawyer.”
For the first time all morning, Wyatt’s smiling. He’s happy to see the FBI doesn’t know as much as they seem to think they do. They can’t even locate the suspect who’s their best chance of flipping against Robbie.
With the FBI’s ineptitude giving him confidence, Wyatt decides to offer a few more words. “Lawyer’s name is Mark Muncy. Call him.”
John scowls at the name. Mark Muncy is one of the best known criminal defense lawyers in the country, who is personally responsible for reaching multiple settlements that put John’s suspects back out onto the street with only some fines and probation guidelines. Nothing compared to the heavy jail time he thinks thieves like Robbie deserve. But if they’re paying Mark’s hefty retainer, it only reinforces John’s belief in Robbie’s guilt. He’s sure the public will have the same impression.
“Robert Locke isn’t here,” one of the FBI agents announces as he approaches John and Pete.
“What?” they both shout in response.
“Where’s he hiding?” John turns to Wyatt and asks. “The building’s under surveillance, we know he showed up here this morning and he hasn’t left.”
“Lawyer.”
“Where’s Jalen Lit?” John yells as he gives up and hands Wyatt off to a nearby FBI agent.
“On his way down to the lobby.”
John runs to the bank of elevators and starts smashing the button to retrieve one. He figures Jalen already told him about Al, so he isn’t waiting for a lawyer’s presence to smugly answer the FBI’s questions. Pete’s the only one who manages to jump in the elevator with John before he forces the doors shut.
In the lobby, Maya watches as Jalen exits an elevator in handcuffs with a pair of FBI agents escorting him.
It’s completely unnecessary for them to bring him through the lobby. There’s a fleet of FBI vehicles in the underground parkade that would have been just as effective for driving Jalen away to jail. That’s how they’re taking Wyatt and some of the others will be taken.
But this is the FBI’s chance for a perp walk and the positive press that comes along with it. After Jalen’s outburst upstairs, being arrested isn’t enough for the FBI agents. They want to embarrass him.
So, they’re leading him through the lobby to the two vehicles waiting out front on the main street, one reserved for Robbie, and now one for Jalen. The path goes right past the collection of reporters who have been camped out since Maya’s story first broke. Plus, Maya and the small group of journalists she shared this morning’s scoop with. The FBI agents want some shame to follow Jalen for the rest of his life. They want pictures of him in handcuffs to be the first thing anyone sees when searching Jalen Lit’s name online.
Obliging them, Maya’s photographer snaps a couple of pictures while Maya calls out to Jalen. He turns his head at the sound of her voice, but the expression on his face is cold and uncaring. He doesn’t answer any of Maya’s questions about the arrests, what’s happening to Robbie, or his involvement in the Ponzi scheme. Her shouting attracts the attention of other reporters, but Jalen doesn’t answer them either.
Suddenly, John and Pete come rushing out of another elevator and call for Jalen to stop.
“Where’s Robbie?” Pete asks, loud enough for the gaggle of reporters to hear.
John instantly stops in his tracks and turns to grab Pete’s arm. He glares at Pete with what can only be described as a death stare, one his mother long ago perfected on him. The last thing they need is the media reporting that they can’t find Robbie.
“What was that?” Jalen yells back with a grin on his face. “You’re having trouble finding Robbie?”
The flurry of camera flashes is almost blinding. All around them, the reporters’ heads drop to their phones and they take to the internet to announce the FBI’s bumbling of today’s raid.
John’s seething as he marches up to Jalen. He only stops when he’s close enough to touch Jalen’s nose with his tongue. “I can’t do anything in front of these reporters except subject you to my terrible coffee breath. But rest assured, if you don’t help us now, I’ll make sure your time in jail is hell.”
“Sorry,” Jalen shouts in his face. “I haven’t seen Robbie since last week.”
“Goddamnit, we know he’s in the building,” John shouts loud enough for Maya to hear.
Sensing Jalen’s too arrogant to help them now, John turns his back and lets the agents drag him out of the building. Pete’s still standing uselessly behind him, earning another death stare. After a second of grinding his teeth, John marches back to the elevators.
“I want agents on every floor searching for him,” John shouts at the men previously working crowd control.
He jumps through the first elevator doors that open, wanting to return upstairs so he can dispatch more agents and formulate a proper plan away from the watchful eyes of the press.
While the FBI agents fan out to start searching every floor of the building, Maya grabs her phone and calls Selena.
“The FBI can’t find Robert Locke,” she squeals into the phone as soon as she hears a breath on the other end.
“Seriously?”
“Get an article online right now, we can be co-authors. Jalen Lit and several other high-ranking employees of Merry Men Financial Management have been taken into custody this morning, but law enforcement is unable to locate Robbie. They’re adamant he’s in the building and are starting a sweep of every floor. I’ll have my photographer upload his photos of the scene here right away for you to use. Have someone check if this building-wide search breaks the warrant the judge granted them.”
“Consider it done.”
Maya hangs up the phone and asks the nearest FBI agent if she can access the elevators. It’s merely a professional courtesy at this point, as there are no longer enough FBI agents in the lobby to hold all of the reporters back if they wanted to charge upstairs.
Her argument that the journalists can help them search doesn’t convince the remaining agents.
“At least one of us can find the people we’re looking for,” Maya mutters as she walks back to her photographer.
Back up in the Merry Men offices, John quickly gives up on his interrogation of Luka. The Russian isn’t giving up any information that could help them find Robbie. Like Wyatt and Jalen, he claims Robbie never came into the office this morning. But John watched the video feed with his own two eyes. Robbie definitely entered the building this morning, walked through the lobby, and entered an elevator that went up the tower.
So where is he?
“Let’s do a roll call for all employees,” Pete suggests. “We can figure out if anyone else is missing.”
“We don’t have a full roster of people who work here.”
“Well, someone here must. Let’s ask the receptionist.”
John doesn’t bother to follow Pete back to the desk by the elevators. He stays in Robbie’s office, alone, and slumps into a chair. He drops his head into his hands and closes his eyes, trying to think of where Robbie could be hiding.
Around him, Robbie’s office is tossed to pieces. The contents of every drawer are scattered around the floor and no filing cabinet has been left untouched. The computer’s missing, already on its way to the FBI’s office where their computer analysts will start going through it.
But where are Al and Robbie?
The only sound in the office is John’s radio as the FBI agents combing through the building report their lack of findings. This entire morning will all be for not if John can’t find them. He lifts his head and leans back in the chair. Looking out the window at the East River, he tries to draw inspiration from it.
“John, you’ve got to hear this,” Pete shouts.
John turns around to watch Pete enter the office, pulling one of the receptionists by her arm. She’s an older woman, at least a decade the elder of the other girls working the desk. She looks concerne
d as Pete drags her through the office, but John trusts it’s because of something important.
“Tell him what you just told me,” Pete encourages.
“Well, you asked if any other employees are missing, besides Al and Robbie. But like I said, Al’s not missing. If you count not being up here as missing, then toss Al’s four secretaries in. But his secretary told me they’re all working like crazy down in his office.”
“Down in his office?” John asks.
Less than a minute later, he steps off the elevator onto the building’s 18th floor with a trail of FBI agents in tow. More come streaming out of the building’s stairwell after a quick jog down the two floors.
Following the receptionist down the dingy carpeted floor, the group stops in front of a nondescript door lacking a nameplate for the business inside. Even through the thick wooden door, they can hear activity inside the office. It might just be his paranoia, but John’s convinced he can hear the distinct noise of the motor of a paper shredder running. Once the receptionist knocks on the door, he doesn’t wait for anyone to answer. He practically kicks the door off its hinges and stomps in.
“Stop. Everybody freeze,” John yells.
He can’t believe his eyes. The filing cabinets along each wall have been replaced with shredders and the secretaries are shoving documents through them as quickly as they can. There are bags full of shredded paper piling up in the center of the room. John suspects they’ll find more in the trash room downstairs.
While agents rush forward to pull them away from the shredders, John notices another door off to the side of the room. He doesn’t even bother to knock on this one before kicking it open and entering. The stench of bleach fills the entire office before John’s foot even lands.
Inside, an even more outstanding sight awaits him.
Robbie and Al are indeed both in the office. They’re standing in opposite corners of the room with plastic aprons covering their suits, long plastic gloves that run up most of their arms, and goggles covering their faces. But John knows it’s them.
Al’s standing in front of a massive garbage can and pouring a jug of bleach into it. There are two other garbage cans beside him. It’s easy to figure out the source of the smell of bleach emanating through the air.
John rushes forward and knocks the jug of bleach out of his hand. He has to step over several empty jugs as he crosses the small office. As he pushes Al back, John tries to look inside the garbage can to see if there are any salvageable documents. He lets out a heavy sigh and decides there’s nothing worth soaking his hands in bleach over.
In the other corner of the room, Pete’s trying to wrestle two bottles of muriatic acid out of Robbie’s hands.
“Give it up, Robbie,” John says as he grabs Al’s wrists. “You’re both under arrest. Don’t add resisting to your list of charges. Or worse, assaulting a federal agent.”
Robbie hesitates at John’s mention of an assault charge. The second of hesitation is enough for Pete to slap the bottles of acid out of his hands and jump back before any of it spills on his significantly cheaper suit.
John hands Al off to an agent at the edge of the room and helps Pete secure the handcuffs on Robbie. As he does, he peeks into the large bucket in front of Robbie and sees more sheets of paper destroyed beyond recognition.
“Looks like you’ll already need to worry about destruction of evidence,” John sighs. “You should mention that to Mark Muncy when he visits your jail cell.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
After nearly an hour of questioning, John decides to throw in the towel and exit the interrogation room.
After everyone had been charged and contacted their lawyers, John felt vindicated for believing Al to be their best shot at flipping someone against Robbie. He’s the only one from Merry Men declining Mark Muncy’s services and insisting on using his own lawyer. Naturally, he’s the one John chose to start the interrogations with.
Unfortunately, an hour of questioning hasn’t yielded any results. Giving up, John follows Pete out into the hallway and quickly closes the door to the interrogation room behind him. Leaning his head against the wall, he lets out a heavy sigh and looks down at his shoes. This isn’t how this day is supposed to be going.
“Your frustration looks like a good sign for me.”
John looks up from his shoes to see Mark down the hall, leaning against a door to another interrogation room.
“I’ve been conferring with my clients here, and they’re confident your case is without merit. Which would you like to harass next?”
“No one’s being harassed. I have warrants for all of this and the law on my side.”
“Oh, come now, let’s not bicker,” Mark grins. “It will be a matter for the civil courts to decide once my clients all walk out of here. Our opinions make no difference.”
“The only courtroom they’ll be seeing is a federal one with a life sentence in front of them,” Pete shouts.
John grimaces at him, not appreciating the input.
“Officer, please. The damage to their reputations is already done. The financial compensation will come later, but true justice will never be found in this case. Not with everything you’re putting these men through.”
“Let’s talk to Robbie next.”
“Don’t you want to wait for the government’s attorneys to arrive before we check on the jackpot?”
“I’m sure he’s dying to tell his story,” John says as he bumps past Mark’s shoulder.
Flailing backward, Mark reacts as if he’s just been shot by a sniper. Breathing heavily and slumped against the wall, he points down the hall at Pete. “You saw that, right? Your partner just physically assaulted me.”
Mark may be speaking, but John isn’t wasting any time or energy listening to him. He’s already inside the interrogation room where Robbie’s waiting, chained to the table. This is quickly turning into a day full of lawyers, the worst kind of day.
“Remember this scene, I don’t want you to risk perjuring yourself during a future lawsuit,” Mark groans.
“You’re so full of it,” Pete says as he follows John down the hallway.
To make his point, he lunges forward at Mark but stops his momentum just shy of colliding with him. Laughing at the sight of the lawyer flinching back against the wall, he joins John in the interrogation room.
“I hope the cameras in this hallway are recording.”
“Will you be joining us with your client or not?” John snaps.
“Good afternoon, Robbie,” Mark says as he suddenly appears in the interrogation room, looking no worse for wear. “I hope none of your civil liberties have been abused yet.”
Robbie lifts his hands, still chained together, and offers a small wave to greet his lawyer.
“Orange doesn’t look good on you, Robbie,” says John. “Cooperate and I might be able to help you spend less time wearing that jumpsuit.”
“You don’t have much of a fashion sense do you, officer? Jumpsuits are in now,” Robbie smirks.
“It’s Special Agent Knott to you,” John snaps again. This day is trying his patience. “Look, I don’t care if you rot away in a jail cell for the rest of your life. But, if you want to have any shot at a reduced sentence, you’ll start talking.”
Sensing that John’s temper will keep this interview from lasting long, Mark doesn’t bother to pull out the chair beside Robbie. John’s standing in an attempt to intimidate the shackled prisoner, so Mark’s content to stay on his level.
“What do you want him to talk about?”
“His Ponzi scheme. When it started, who knew about it when, who’s been helping you, and the mechanics of how it functioned before we came along.”
“So, you’re asking for a full confession? Do you even know the answers to those questions? It sounds like you suspect a ‘what’ and you’re asking my client to fill you in on the who, when, and how. What proof do you have of his guilt?”
Before John can answer, not that he's planni
ng to, the door swings open behind them, taking their attention away from Robbie.
“Thank you, Knott,” Sally says as she enters the room. “But I think I’ll take over from here.”
John doesn’t move a muscle as Sally hovers behind him. Wanting to follow his partner’s lead, Pete turns back to Robbie to keep his attention away from the door.
After a moment of silence in the room, Sally clears her throat to remind the FBI agents of her seniority. Eventually, the tension becomes too much. Pete loses the game of chicken and stands to give his seat away to Sally.
“I’ll wait outside,” Pete mumbles as he slips past the other attorney accompanying Sally and she takes the chair.
John crosses his arms and doesn't look at Pete as he slinks out of the room. As far as John’s concerned, the surrender is a betrayal, leaving him alone in this room full of lawyers without an ally.
“How’s your day going, Robbie?” Sally asks as she offers a bright smile and crosses her legs in the chair.
Again, he lifts his wrists in the air and lets the clanging shackles answer the question for him.
Sally acts surprised at the sight of chains and turns back to look at John with mock horror on her face. “Well now, John, I hardly think those are still necessary. Can you please remove them?”
“I think it’s good for him to get used to the feeling of metal on his skin. It’s going to be a long time before he’s able to move around freely without them.”
“John, take them off.”
Robbie grins as the power dynamic in the room becomes clear. As John leans forward to free him, Robbie ignores the FBI agent and offers Sally a bright smile. He’s deciding to rub a little salt in the wound.
“How can I be of help?”
Less than a minute is all it takes for Sally to get more from Robbie than John ever would.
“We know you’re at the top of the pyramid, Robbie.”
“Is this a pyramid scheme or a Ponzi scheme?” Mark interrupts. “You guys need to get your act together.”
Robbie's Scheme Page 22
