Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery

by Giacomo Giammatteo

  Number Four tugged at the mask. “Why do we have to wear these when we’re inside?”

  “If you don’t like the rules, leave now. These rules will never change.”

  “It’s hot.”

  “Prisons are hotter,” Boss said. “Almost every partnership among criminals ends with one of them ratting out the others. That is why we wear masks. I want no one to know who I am, or who anyone else is.” Boss looked to each of them. Number Two nodded. “This is for all of us. If I get caught, I can’t tell the cops who you are, because I don’t know.”

  “What about Dispatcher?” Number Four said.

  Boss got right up in his face. “Have you seen Dispatcher?”

  “No.”

  “That’s right. None of us have. All I have is a phone number.”

  “So how does he get his cut?”

  Boss sneered. “Worried you’re getting cheated already?”

  “No, it’s just—”

  “Bullshit. Don’t worry. I send Dispatcher his cut when the job is over. And just so we all keep with the rules, let’s not refer to him at all. Dispatcher is my problem. Clear?”

  He waited until Number Four acknowledged, then continued. “First rule is no names, only numbers. I am Number One, or Boss.” He pointed to the left. “That is Number Two, and I believe I hear Numbers Three and Five coming in now. Any questions?” He waited, then said, “Good. We’ve got work to do.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Number Two asked.

  “Kidnapping,” Boss said, as Three and Five entered.

  Number Two seemed to disapprove. “Kidnapping is dangerous. And we don’t have a target.”

  “I like it,” Three said.

  Boss listened, absorbing it all. “Targets are easy. There are plenty of rich people in this city. All we have to do is look for the easiest mark.”

  Number Two paced. “I don’t like it. Might as well kill someone as kidnap them. The penalties are almost the same.”

  “That’s an idea, too,” Number Four said. “But I don’t go for unnecessary violence.”

  Boss pretended not to hear what he said, but he took note, and he liked the part about not liking violence Number Three seemed to like it too much. “Kidnapping carries stiff penalties, true, but if we get away with it, what do the penalties matter?”

  Boss waited to see if anyone raised objections. “If we decide to go with a snatch, anyone have problems?”

  Silence.

  “You, Number Two?”

  “If everyone else is in, I’ll go along.”

  “Good,” Boss said. “Let’s go over this.” They discussed the possibilities for another half an hour or so then left, leaving Boss alone. When he was certain they were gone, he called Dispatcher.

  “Go.”

  “I’m looking for a mark to snatch.”

  “I don’t have to tell you how dangerous that is. Very few succeed. If they do, it’s usually because the mark is killed.”

  “All I need is a name. Any other information would help, but a name will suffice.”

  “I’ll get back to you.”

  “And don’t forget to keep your eyes open for a new Number Three. I’m not convinced this one will work out.”

  “I never forget.”

  Number Two poked her head back into the office. “We good?”

  Boss nodded. “That worked well, you raising objections. We had to test the new member. Good idea, Number Two.”

  “Tell Dispatcher to get us a mark with a lot of money.”

  ***

  When Dispatcher hung up, he returned to reading the paper, checking on the sports results and his investments. As he scanned the business section, a headline caught his eye.

  “Biotech Firm from The Woodlands About to Go Public. Offering Expected to Set Local Record”

  The article went on to describe how Scott Winthrop, the CEO, stood to make almost eighty million dollars, assuming the shares held at the projected offering price.

  Eighty million dollars is a lot of money, Dispatcher thought, and leaned back in his chair to reflect on that. He won’t be able to cash it out just yet…but he could borrow on it. And I couldn’t ask for a better mark.

  Chapter 10

  A Wonderful Life

  Scott Winthrop woke every day to ecstasy—not the drug, but a wonderful feeling of joy that accompanied a perfect life. Despite being agnostic, he had been blessed beyond the fortunes of fate. At forty-two, he was CEO of a hot new biotech company and had a stock position translating into many millions now that their IPO was in full swing.

  Scott wanted to take a company public, and his startup was poised for a phenomenal IPO, with a new drug showing a promising treatment for diabetes. His stock options would catapult him into the high eight-figure range. Perhaps the best part was living in a 9,000 square-foot house tucked into a wooded community on a golf course, and being only five minutes from work. Life didn’t get much better than that.

  He had problems, though. The first two clinical trials showed positive results, but a new trial hinted at bad indications. If the results weren’t good the IPO could go sour, and his fortune with it. On top of that, alimony was draining him.

  Scott shook off the blues before they settled in. He rolled over, his hand rubbing against the soft, smooth skin of a goddess. “Good morning,” he whispered into her ear.

  She stretched and slowly turned over. Her eyes went wide when she saw him. “Oh God! Did I…did we…”

  Scott sighed. “Unfortunately, no. You passed out before I could work my charms on you.”

  She composed herself, reached over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks. You’re a gentleman.”

  “I don’t know about a gentleman,” he said, and slid his hand down her side.

  She kissed him, while removing his hand. And then she got out of bed. “Let’s save something for tonight. Besides, I need to shower.”

  “Through those doors,” Scott said. He ogled her body as she walked away. “I’m cutting you off at two drinks tonight,” he said as she closed the doors.

  A few minutes later, she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a white towel. “I might reconsider waiting until tonight,” she said.

  Scott was reaching for her when a knock at the door startled him.

  “Time to get up, lazy. You told me to remind you of your meeting.”

  “I’m up,” Scott said.

  “We’re off to school, Dad. You better be up.”

  God, the joys of fatherhood. “Goodbye, dear. Have a nice day.”

  “It’s dear now? You don’t even remember my name?”

  “Goodbye, Alexis, or is it Monica?”

  “Go to…you know where.”

  “See you tonight.”

  “Are we going to dinner tonight? You promised.” Her voice had the pleading tone Scott hated.

  “Can’t do it. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Scott didn’t hear her answer, but he heard the front door slam. An answer in itself. He turned back to Jennifer, still wrapped in the towel. “And what was your name?”

  “You better remember my name.”

  Scott pulled her closer, kissed her nose, then her lips. “I can’t seem to remember if it was Jennifer, Venus, or Aphrodite.”

  She kissed him back, ran her fingertips down his side. “Putting me in some lofty company, aren’t you?”

  “A well-deserved ranking,” he said, and kissed his way down to her stomach.

  Jennifer stopped him. “You didn’t tell me you had a daughter. Are you…”

  “Married? Not for six years. But Alexa’s mother remarried, and Alexa can’t stand the new husband, so…my once carefree nights are now filled with responsibility.”

  “I think it’s sweet your daughter wants to live with you.”

  Scott laughed. “I want to be flattered, but I think I was the lesser of two evils. And perhaps more importantly, the most lenient.”

  “I’d like you to pick up where you left off,” she said, “But I have to get
to work.”

  Scott looked at the clock sitting on the nightstand. “You never told me what you do.”

  “Nothing nearly as exciting as you.” She dropped the towel and reached for her clothes. “How am I getting home?”

  “Where’s your car?”

  “At the club, remember? You swept me off my feet and right into your car.”

  “I’ll send a car for you when I get to work. Or you can stay here until I get home, but it may be late.”

  “I think I’ll take the car. I do have to work.”

  “I’m taking a quick shower,” Scott said. “You can put coffee on if you feel like it.”

  A few minutes later, he stepped out of the shower, drying himself. Jennifer wasn’t around. He went to the top of the stairs. Pots and pans sounded in the kitchen. “There’s plenty to eat if you want to make breakfast. Just lock the door when you leave.”

  “I’m waiting for a car, remember? Do you want coffee? Or something to eat?”

  “No, I really have to run, but fix something yourself.”

  Scott was down the steps in a few minutes. He kissed Jennifer on the cheek and headed for the door.

  “Don’t forget your phone,” she said. “It’s in the charger.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll call when the car is on its way.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll get a cab.”

  “Suit yourself,” Scott said, and closed the door.

  He parked his Lamborghini in the space marked CEO less than twenty feet from the entrance. He got out, brushed off his suit, and walked into the lobby.

  “Good morning, Mr. Winthrop.”

  He nodded to the receptionist. “Any calls?”

  “Several, sir. Michelle has them.”

  He continued on with a fast pace through the lobby. “And sir, they’re waiting for you in the conference room.”

  “On my way.”

  Scott walked in, set the briefcase on the table, and opened it. “Coffee?”

  Michelle jumped to get him some and as she did, he looked over the group seated around the table. “I don’t see a lot of smiles. Is everybody in a sour mood, or am I in for a surprise?”

  Chris Reynolds, Vice President of R&D, lowered her head as she spoke. “We just finished going through Sanjay’s report.”

  Scott took his coffee from Michelle and sipped it. “And?”

  Chris found the courage to meet Scott’s gaze. “We may have problems with the clinical data.”

  Scott studied the gloomy looks; obviously they all knew. “Explain.”

  “If Sanjay’s right—and he feels certain he is—the drug is barely more effective than a placebo.”

  “Fuck!” Scott pounded his fist on the table and glared at Sanjay. “How did you miss this?”

  Before he could answer, Chris got her hackles up. “Because we rushed it. Remember?”

  “I said rush it, not screw it up,” Scott said.

  “When dealing with drug development, ‘rush it’ and ‘screw it up’ are synonymous.”

  Scott paced. “How certain are we? When will you know?”

  Sanjay spoke up. “It will take a few weeks to verify.”

  Scott sipped his coffee, wrinkled his brow, and stared at Chris. “I thought this was a blind trial. How do we know what the data will show?”

  Chris lowered her head, then spoke in a low tone. “Sanjay…knows someone at the CRO. They called him privately.”

  “So no one knows but us?”

  “That’s right, but we…”

  Scott held up his hand, interrupting her. “All right, listen. This doesn’t go outside this room. And I mean you tell nobody. Not wives or husbands. No one else in the company. Sanjay, keep this to yourself until we verify the data. And make sure everyone understands the importance of keeping it quiet.”

  “Scott, we are required to report this. If the—”

  “Fred, I know you’re CFO, but if you breathe one word of this to anyone, you will no longer be with us. And while we are on that subject, let me remind everyone that if this gets out, our IPO is sunk. Those new houses you dreamed of, the new cars, the vacations all over the world, early retirement…kiss them all goodbye.”

  Chris stood. “I don’t intend to ruin my career—”

  “Whoa!” Scott said. “Listen up, everyone. I am not suggesting we cover this up. If the data confirms what Sanjay suspects, we will report it. I don’t intend to cover up anything. But we can’t afford to let something like this slip out and ruin our position until we know we are wrong. Does everyone understand?”

  Silence greeted him.

  Scott put on one of his big smiles. “Right now we don’t know anything. This was a blind trial. We have no access to the data. How could we know?”

  “But we do know,” Chris said.

  Scott thought for a moment and cast a sideways glance to Sanjay. “Maybe the person who told Sanjay is wrong. Maybe the data is corrupt. A lot of things could be wrong. All I know is we have an IPO coming up, and we need to be prepared for it. Let’s get busy.”

  He waited for objections, but none came. “All right, good.” He raised his voice and put a lot of enthusiasm in it. “Come on, people, we have an IPO to prepare for.”

  An hour later the meeting officially broke up. Scott waited for the others to leave but asked Sanjay to stay. After the room cleared, he turned to Sanjay. “How did this leak?”

  Sanjay didn’t stutter, but his voice was hesitant. “Sir, I warned you about this. You knew.”

  “And I told you to keep it quiet. I said no one could know.” Scott slammed his fist on the table. “If you want your family to ever get over here, you better make sure this stays delayed for a while.”

  Sanjay lost all his former boldness, lowering his voice to a level below meek. “Yes, sir. I will.”

  Chapter 11

  Dreams of the Rich

  Lonny got dressed, shaved, and made his way to the kitchen. The kids were at the table and Lucia was busy cooking. “Breakfast is going to taste a lot worse this morning,” Lonny said.

  Lucia scraped the eggs onto a big plate then turned to hug him. “Why would breakfast taste worse?”

  “I woke up half a dozen times dreaming about that lottery we didn’t hit.”

  “I could have gotten whatever prom dress I wanted,” Jada said.

  “I was gonna buy a jiu-jitsu school,” Mars said.

  “In the thirty seconds you thought you were rich, you decided on that?” Lonny said.

  “Shame on all of you,” Lucia said as she meted portions of eggs and peppers onto their plates. “Jada, you’ll get the same dress you thought about when we couldn’t afford it.” Spatula in hand, she looked threatening. “Even if we won the lottery, the Lord wouldn’t want us squandering our money.”

  Mars shoveled eggs into his mouth, but he found time to talk between bites. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll get my black belt, win some competitions, and make us all money.”

  Lucia rapped Mars on the head. “Focus on your real school, young man. Not jiu-jitsu. I’ll not have an illiterate child because you think you have talent.”

  Mars scraped his plate and carried it to the sink. “Would you have stayed here, Dad? I mean in this house?”

  “Of course not,” Jada said. “With all that money, we could have moved anywhere. I’d have gone to The Woodlands, where all the rich people live. Right next to Alexa.”

  “Yeah,” Mars said, “A huge house with a swimming pool and a pool table.”

  “And a tennis court,” Jada said. “And a dance floor in the party room.”

  Lucia shook her head. “Listen to yourselves. I’m glad we didn’t hit the lottery.”

  “Mom…”

  “Mom nothing. All your father did was throw away a dollar’s worth of eggs, gambling on that lottery nonsense. And fill your heads with silly dreams.” Lucia turned to face Jada. “What, you think those people over there would be waiting with cookies and milk, greeting us when we moved in, huh? You
got a lot more to learn if you think that.”

  “Those days are over,” Jada said, getting up from the table in a huff.

  “Sit down and let me tell you something. Just because the law says there isn’t prejudice, and just because we got a black president, don’t ever think that prejudice is over. It flat out ain’t true.” She looked at Jada and Mars both. “I’m not talking about black and white here; I’m talking about a prejudice that goes a lot deeper than that—the one between rich and poor. That’s been going on a lot longer than any black-and-white thing.” She shook her head, mumbling, “The one thing rich people hate more than anything is poor people getting rich quick.”

  She looked as if she’d stop, but then she turned to Lonny. “And shame on you, husband, for letting this talk go on so long.”

  Lonny’s smile had long since disappeared. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her ire, but there was no sense in arguing when Lucia got like this. He imagined it was nerves eating away at her, which he couldn’t much blame her for. “Your mother’s right. We’re simple folk, and we need to remind ourselves of that.”

  Lucia grabbed her plate and coffee cup from the table and put them in the sink. “Help me with these dishes, Mars. You too, Jada.”

  Mars grabbed a dish towel and started drying. “I didn’t want to be rich anyway. It would have taken me too long to write down all I needed to buy.”

  Lucia stopped doing dishes and laughed, though it seemed to be mixed with tears. “Don’t you worry, children. The Lord won’t let anything bad happen to a good person like your father.”

  Lonny choked down the last of his coffee, cringing at her words. The Lord was certainly ashamed of him right now, and he had to do something about it.

  Chapter 12

  Gino Gets a Partner

  I left the Marshall house feeling like I had nowhere to go on this case, and a night’s sleep hadn’t improved my outlook. Whoever the hell these people were, they were doing a good job of maintaining control. In the morning, I called Coop to see about getting help. I had to catch these bastards.