Carter Peterson Mystery Series (Volume 1)

by Al Boudreau

  “How is it that when I’m on a stakeout doing surveillance work, nothing happens. Then, as soon as I take off to do something else, all of Hades breaks loose?”

  “Luck of the draw, I guess.”

  Sarah chuckled. “Casino reference. Very clever, Carter.”

  “Did you and Brian have a good time?” I asked.

  “Yes, we did, thank you for asking, but I can’t switch gears and talk about my afternoon right now. Does Detective James know about all that went down today?”

  “He does. In fact, I expect to hear from him soon. He was going to do a search of recent Porsche thefts, and how they might relate to the timing of the Sixteen-Sixteen round the young girl at the casino talked about. And he was scheduled to meet with Courtney Briggs. Said he’d keep us in the loop about that, too.”

  “The girls at the casino. You said they all live in Oyster Bay?”

  “Right.”

  “And you said Allie Jensen actually recruited a friend’s brother to become a player?”

  “Yep.”

  “So … why are we not jumping all over this? We need to have James bring Jensen in for questioning. Ryan Iacona is sixteen years old. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to hypothesize his kidnapping is somehow related to this crazy Sixteen-Sixteen game. Let’s not forget, Anthony Turner is a known associate of Allie Jensen and the Iacona kid.”

  “It’s already crossed my mind,” I said. “In fact, I mentioned it to James right before he left the diner. Don’t forget, this entire avalanche just happened this morning.”

  “You’re right,” Sarah said. “I’m just fired up, I guess. It’s not often we get a boatload of actionable clues all at once.”

  “I get it.”

  “Do you? Because I’ll tell you something. Sitting on the sidelines while this darn shoulder was healing sucked royally. I’m good and ready to solve a case. And I feel like we’re poised to do just that.”

  Yep. She was definitely fired up. “As soon as James calls, I’ll remind him that we want to find out what Allie Jensen knows.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah said.

  “What do you make of Nelda Iacona’s comments about her husband and Courtney Briggs? Think the terms ‘living in sin’ and ‘covets’ indicate she thinks the two of them are having an affair?”

  “Hmmm. Good question,” Sarah said. “I’m willing to bet Nelda Iacona was born and raised in the Bible Belt. Her beliefs, the way she talks, her sense of right and wrong … all different from our ways up here in New England. Maybe Nelda having the knowledge her husband is attracted to his co-worker is as bad for her as you actually cheating would be for me.”

  “Could be,” I said.

  “Or … maybe she senses her husband is cheating on her and assumes it’s with Courtney Briggs,” Sarah added.

  “Great minds think alike,” I said. “I still can’t come to terms with whether or not she knows where her kid is. Maybe I’m just reading her wrong.”

  “Oh, you mean when she said she prayed they were providing for her son at that place?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, I wasn’t there, but I wouldn’t read too much into that one,” Sarah said. “I just can’t picture a woman like her being in on such a massive crime. You get caught stealing that kind of money from a bank like Steele & Company, you’re going away for a very long time. Even if you’re busted as an accessory.”

  “Yep. You make a valid point,” I said. Sarah smiled. I could tell she was loving every second of being back in the thick of a serious investigation. She was made for this work.

  “It’s almost five. You hungry?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I could eat.”

  “Me, too. How about Thai?”

  “Mmm. Yellow curry chicken,” Sarah said.

  “Drunken noodles for me.”

  “I’ll call.”

  I smiled and let my head fall back against the sofa cushions.

  “… Carter!”

  “What? What?”

  Sarah came in with the phone. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s James.”

  “Sorry. Dozed off,” I said as she handed me the phone. “Detective. What did you find out?” I switched the phone to speaker and set it on my knee.

  “Nothing about the cars yet, but Iacona’s ex-assistant manager is here with me. I think you two ought to hear what she has to say.”

  Sarah was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, listening in. She gave me a sullen look and let herself fall back against the door casing.

  “Uh, yeah, OK, we’ll be there shortly,” I said and ended the call.

  Sarah tossed her hands in the air and disappeared into the kitchen. “Really?” she said as I followed. “I just ordered our take-out.”

  I shrugged and smiled. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re so excited about being back in the thick of investigative work.”

  * * *

  “Sarah Woods, Courtney Briggs,” Detective James said as we walked into the police department’s conference room.

  “Ms. Briggs, pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Sarah.”

  “Likewise,” Courtney said. “I’m pleased you’re here, Sarah. We’re in dire need of a woman’s perspective.”

  Sarah didn’t take the bait. “This is my partner, Carter Peterson.”

  “Hello,” Courtney said, giving me one of those tight-lipped, non-smile sort of smiles.

  “Ms. Briggs,” I said with a nod, sensing a little man-hate coming from her. Guess it wasn’t a pleasure to meet me.

  “Have a seat,” James said. “I appreciate you both coming down. I know what a crazy day it’s been. However, the information Ms. Briggs brought to light is somewhat of a game-changer, where the Iacona case is concerned. And time-sensitive in nature.”

  “What do you have for us, Courtney?” Sarah asked.

  Courtney reached across the table for a stack of paperwork sitting atop a large manila envelope. “A paper trail that follows the million dollar transfer I was begged to authorize,” she replied, fire in her voice. “A paper trail that Jay Iacona refuses to take responsibility for, and one that my former evil employer flat out refused to share with me.”

  “It’s my understanding Steele & Company terminated your employment as a result of your actions,” I said. Which was apparently the wrong thing to say. With the look I got, you would have thought I’d stolen her last dollar.

  “My actions. Yes. That’s exactly how they worded it, Mr. Peterson. But I wonder … do you find it as curious as I do, that Jay Iacona is still employed with that multinational monster? They wasted no time in ousting me from their organization after twelve long years of my loyalty and dedication. They didn’t even have the decency to do so face-to-face. Instead, Steele & Company sent a courier to my home to let me know I was out of a job.”

  “Did they provide you with any kind of valid explanation?” Sarah asked.

  Courtney leafed through the stack of papers, pulled out the one she was searching for, and slid it over to Sarah. “I’ll let you read it then decide for yourself. I can’t look at it anymore. I become far too volatile when I do.”

  Sarah spent a moment with the document. “I’m sorry. I can’t make heads or tails of anything they wrote in this letter. It’s total lawyer-speak.”

  “Thank you,” Courtney said. “I have one of the best legal minds in the entire country representing me, and she couldn’t decipher it, either. Fortunately, we were good friends in college, or I’d never be able to afford her.”

  James looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Ms. Briggs, would you share what you discovered with Carter and Sarah? Specifically, the way in which this million dollar transfer bounced around. Exactly as you explained it to me, please.”

  “Which time?” she asked.

  Sarah’s head snapped around to look at me, then turned toward James. He focused on the tabletop for a few beats. I’d known him for years now, well enough to realize he was fighting the urge to hit this woman with a verb
al firestorm. “You explained it quite succinctly the last time you summarized the process,” he replied in a calm and measured tone. “I’m certain, given their limited exposure to the complex world that is high finance, they would appreciate it if you were to brief them on the way the system works in layman’s terms.”

  I could tell by Sarah’s expression that she was on the verge of laughing out loud at the way James put Courtney in her place. The guy never talked that way, so hearing him use hoity-toity vocabulary was really a treat.

  “Fine,” she said, knowing full-well she’d just been taken down a notch. “First off, know that this job took a great deal of time and effort to plan and execute. My guess … well over a year. The money was transferred to the Philippines, into a US dollar account opened thirteen months ago. It was an inside job. They knew the cap limit on this type of wire transfer. They hit the bank late in the day, prior to a long national holiday. They used multiple transfers in rapid succession, so as not to have the funds stationary for long. They determined the perfect time differential from our country to the Philippines. In short, it was orchestrated to perfection.”

  “Doesn’t the Philippines have lax rules and regulations when it comes to money laundering?” I asked.

  “Precisely why they chose the country,” she said. “The Philippines’ gaming industry is a virtual nexus for illegal activity. Which is why the money ended up at a casino. From our bank, to their bank, to a foreign exchange broker, to The Solara Casino and Resort in Quezon City.”

  “Sorry if this is a dumb question, Courtney,” Sarah said, “but what advantage did it give them to use a casino as their final stop?”

  “Not at all, Sarah. The Philippines has strict banking secrecy laws in place, but their money laundering legislation doesn’t include casinos. Therefore, no governing body or agency in the world has legal means to compel them to disclose any information concerning financial transactions, nor is the gaming industry at large required to report suspicious activity. In fact, they welcome it.”

  “Wow,” I said, “why would they maintain such a messed-up way of doing things, knowing it’s going to aggravate other governments?”

  “Simple,” Courtney replied. “Because it brings billions of dollars a year in revenue to their small country.”

  “So there’s no way to track the money from there?” Sarah asked.

  “Well, that’s where it gets interesting,” Courtney replied. “It’s not impossible, but once all that cash hits the casino, the money generally becomes opaque. Into chips, out of chips, into local currency, maybe exchanged for a different country’s currency. You get the picture. But … nearly the entire amount of this particular transfer went to a specific junket operator. Are either of you familiar with junkets?”

  We both shook our heads. This was the layman’s explanation?

  “A junket operator is basically a promoter who receives a commission, or other payment, from a casino for introducing people to their particular property. This is where a property’s VIPs, or whales, generally come from. Anyway, long story short, being that the chain of transfers happened in rapid succession, we were able to determine that a junket operator received the money. Unfortunately, there are close to one hundred of them within the Quezon City limits. We need to identify which operator accepted the transfer, and then I may be able to determine who and where the players are.”

  “And nab those miserable cretins,” Sarah chimed in. It was the first time I’d seen Courtney smile.

  “Impressive,” I said. “How did you acquire your financial forensic skills?” I asked.

  “Not my handiwork,” she said. “It’s a specialized area of expertise. I have another friend who I was involved with a few years back. This is her baby now. Again, I’d never be able to afford this level of assistance were it not for my connection with her. My lawyer friend and my financial friend are saving my tail. Thankfully, they refuse to stand by and allow Steele and Company to ruin my career.”

  Her mention of being involved with this friend of hers reminded me of Nelda Iacona’s ambiguous comments about her husband living in sin. “Ms. Briggs, this is probably going to be an uncomfortable question, so I’ll apologize ahead of time, but … were you and Jay Iacona—”

  “Let me stop you right there, Mr. Peterson.” Courtney paused to take a deep breath. “No, Jay Iacona is not, has never been, and, despite his inflated ego and unrelenting advances, will never be a love interest of mine. I’ve done my best to keep what I’m about to tell you under wraps, as it could only have hurt me in the ‘man’s world’ that is corporate culture. But it doesn’t matter a lick at this point. I’m a lesbian.”

  I never saw that coming. And, judging by the look on both James’s and Sarah’s faces, neither did they.

  “Okay, then,” Sarah said. “Moving right along. Courtney, this just came to mind—doesn’t it seem unnecessarily risky to you that the perps would not only demand such a large transfer of funds, but also hit the bank for physical cash at the same time?”

  I was impressed. I’d wondered the same.

  “Good heads-up question, Sarah,” Courtney said. “We’ve never heard of a bank job in which a multi-faceted theft had been attempted. However, my lawyer suggested that perhaps the transferred funds were destined for the perpetrators’ coffers, while the cash may have been to pay off a one-time player who agreed to help pull this particular heist off.”

  “You mean like an average Joe who isn’t necessarily a career criminal?” James asked.

  “Could be,” Courtney replied with a nod.

  “Might even be the individual who physically robbed Steele,” I said.

  “That’s a solid theory, because this guy left prints all over the scene,” James said. “And, other than the wig, there was no attempt made to alter his facial features. Yet, we haven’t had one single hit within our fingerprint databases. Nothing from our facial recognition software, either.”

  “Which has been hugely unsettling to me,” Courtney admitted. “It’s basically my word against a ghost.”

  “You mentioned maybe being able to figure out who and where the casino players are,” Sarah said. “Where are you with that process?”

  Sarah’s question brought a weak smile from Courtney. “My forensics friend is working on it as we speak, and she’s pulled in two other experts. Experts we got to first.”

  “Not sure I understand that last part,” I said.

  “These individuals were all contacted by JR Moorehouse Steele & Company about fifteen minutes after we retained their services. It’s a very specialized field whose ranks are limited. We managed to pull the best of the best before the corporate squid could wrap their tentacles around them. My guess is we’re way ahead of Steele & Company in terms of chasing down this money.”

  “Nice,” Sarah said. “That’s a silver lining in an otherwise stormy sky.”

  Courtney nodded. “You’ve got to hold onto something, right?”

  Chapter 16

  “I really like her,” Sarah said on the ride home from the station.

  “Yeah, Courtney’s quite a gal. She was definitely digging me,” I replied, sending Sarah into a giggle-fest.

  “I got the impression she’s not a big fan of men in general,” Sarah said. “But, man-oh-man, what a strong woman. I can’t help but be impressed. And maybe a little inspired.”

  I turned and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That’s funny, because I think you have it all over her. In fact, she could learn a thing or two from you.”

  Sarah’s face glowed. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

  “You’re both pros in your respective fields. But, as the old cliché goes, you can catch more bees with honey than you can with a flamethrower.”

  “Aww, thanks, handsome. It’s a sweet thing to say. Don’t you find it fascinating that we’ve been chasing down leads in a local casino while that massive transfer ended up in another casino halfway around the world?”

  “Yep. But it’s logical. Sa
fe to say these guys are good.”

  “Yeah, but so is Courtney. Sounds to me like she’s all over it, so those jerks better be looking over their shoulders.”

  “That’s all well and good for her, but it’s probably not going to do much to help us find Ryan Iacona,” I said.

  “Can we eat now? I still want that Thai food,” Sarah said.

  “Call ‘em up, and I’ll run in and grab the order. I just hope I don’t fall asleep in my drunken noodles.”

  * * *

  A sudden pressure against my chest woke me up. The smoky aroma of Ethiopian Yergacheffe filled the air as I opened my eyes to find Sarah sitting on the edge of the couch, my mug in hand. I’d slept on the couch again. “Why didn’t you wake me up so I could sleep in a bed?” I asked as I sat up and reached for my morning coffee.

  “Carter Peterson, I’m going to crown you King of Pain in about two seconds. You don’t remember?”

  I shook my head as I gulped down the scalding goodness.

  “I did wake you up. Just like I always do. And you did your usual—telling me you’d be right up to bed, then falling back asleep on the couch. You barely ate two bites of your Thai food last night before you were out cold.”

  I nodded. “Yep. Just like I warned you.”

  “Well, I saved about half of mine, so we can have it again tonight. I spoke to Detective James a few minutes ago. We’re on with Allie Jensen in less than an hour, so you’d better get your wagon moving.”

  I let out a groan. “So much for today being a holiday.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that,” Sarah said. “You love being on the job and you know it.”

  “Guilty as charged,” I said as I heard my stomach growl. “I’m starving.”

  “It’s no wonder. Stop falling asleep in your dinner at night,” Sarah said as she stood up and turned toward me, hands on her hips. “I’ll make you a breakfast sandwich. Now, go get ready.”

  I downed my coffee, handed her my mug, and complied. I started thinking about this young girl we were going to talk to this morning. Would she open up and give us something we could use, or sell us a bill of goods just to make us go away?