The Tipping Point: A Wainwright Mystery

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by Walter Danley


  At his Century City office, Wainwright prepared for Tommy’s arrival. The plan was to come up with something new that would prevent the pending crisis. By the time Tommy arrived at the office, Wainwright had written on the white board the events as Tommy and he understood them:

  3 MURDERS:

  BURKE, CLYBURN, & KEATING—

  (4 COUNTING CASSIE)

  B & C PARTNERS < 2 YEARS, PARTNERS BY MERGERS

  CONNECTED TO CONSPIRACY? WHY?

  THE DRUG ECSTASY

  CONFIRMED USERS: ARNOLD, ED,

  PROB. USERS: MEYER, BENNIE

  DENIED USING:BORSTAD

  NON-USERS: SHAW, WAINWRIGHT, (KEATING)

  DRUGS IN COMPANY.WHY?

  WHO BENEFITS?

  $16+MM STOLEN FROM FUNDS, DISTRIBUTED TO THE

  CONFIRMED AND PROB. USERS PLUS BORSTAD, NON-USER (SAYS)

  As he brought a cup of coffee to the conference table, Tommy said, “So, how are you getting along with your kids these days?”

  “Now there is a prize-winning non-sequitur if there ever was one. What makes you ask that?”

  “It’s just curiosity about your domestic situation and caring about my partner, mostly. You never talk about something that important, so it must hurt pretty bad. Shirl said your ex was a hard case about letting Tim and Brian visit. True?”

  “’Fraid so, but I’m working on it. Lacey and I went out to see them at football practice Saturday. That Tim is becoming a star. They make me feel so proud.”

  “Proud, huh? I heard you spent some time in the county lockup a few days ago.”

  “Yeah, what pool hall have you been hanging out in to hear BS like that?”

  “No pool palace, it was in my patio pool, actually. Shirley got the goods straight from an unimpeachable source. Lacey told her the story. I’ll bet your ex was happy to have the cops pull you off her husband and haul your sorry ass to the hoosegow.”

  “It wasn’t quiet that dramatic.”

  “Not what I heard. You and Lacey went to the park to see the kids, Norman objected to your presence—in front of both your little buggers—and he takes a poke at you. Right or wrong?”

  “Yeah, something like that, I guess.”

  “You guess? Lacey’s version says you ducked him, twice, and then your ex jumps on your back and grabs both arms, so good ol’ Norman can move in for the kill. Is that about the way it happened?”

  “Hum, yeah, Debbie had my arms wrapped up pretty tight. I didn’t want to throw her off and hurt her, but Norm did advance on me quickly when he saw me bound up. There wasn’t anyone holding my legs, so I gave his gonads a gung-ho greeting, that’s all.”

  “So why’d the cops take you and not Norman?”

  “Because the ambulance had already hauled his sorry ass away and I was the one Debbie pointed to as the aggressor. Hey, good buddy, you didn’t drive all the way up here to listen to war stories. Let’s get back to this CapVest mess. You and I can BS later.” Wainwright reached over and put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Thanks, Tommy. I know you care, and that helps. It really does.” Tommy took in the whiteboard scribbles in a quick glance and turned his attention to his old friend.

  “Tommy, Borstad has confessed to the fraud to the tune of sixteen million smackers, but denies any knowledge or involvement with the killings. The bad news is he’s implicated Ed, Arnold, Bennie, and Herb with him in the plot.”

  Neither man had come up with answers to why. Their careers, net worth, and incomes were about to be destroyed, and so far, there was nothing they could do to stop it.

  “I can’t see who benefits from the three killings. I’m guessing the hooker’s death was to keep her quiet, assuming she knew something about the Clyburn hit. The cops think she knew about it. The connection to Burke and Clyburn may be that both merged into CapVest. I’m not at all sure if that means anything.”

  “Maybe that’s something we should look at. But what is Keating’s connection, then?” Tommy wondered. “Who benefited from any of these killings? What’s the motive? I’ve been mulling this thing for so long I’m not sure I’ve got any of it straight. If Keating was killed because he knew of the fraud conspiracy, then you and I are on deck for a bullet from the killer.”

  “Wow, there’s a happy thought,” Wainwright said.

  “That’s the one reason I can see for him to be killed.”

  Wainwright considered Tommy’s opinion, then offered, “That might fly for Keating’s murder, but it’s not the reason for Burke or Clyburn.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It has to be the killings are part of the conspiracy, but then Borstad is lying about not having any knowledge of them. Not too much of a stretch, since he has always been a lying sack of shit. Either that or there is one or more of the conspirators committing the murders and the others don’t know. I tend to believe the version Borstad told me in Denver.”

  “Why would he confess to the fraud, which is going to send him away for years, but deny knowledge about the killings?” Tommy asked.

  “How about because confessing to murder gets him an armload of Jesus juice instead of a cot and three squares for the rest of his miserable life?” Wainwright pointed out.

  “I did some checking on my Day-Timer. On the day Clyburn was murdered, both of us were in Bellevue with all the others at the board meeting. With everyone there, how could any of us be the killer?”

  “Hey, Sherlock,” Wainwright sarcastically said, “I don’t think one of our guys actually did the deed. Obviously, it was a hired hit by a professional. Of that, I’m almost sure.”

  Tommy looked his partner in the eye. “How sure are you, Garth?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe about ten percent.” Wainwright looked sheepishly over at his old friend and grinned. “Maybe a bit more. You know what, Tommy? This mess is looking more and more like Murder on the Orient Express. Have you read that old Agatha Christie novel? It’s a beauty, but, unlike Hercule Poirot, I will not be satisfied to solve only the mystery. I want the bastard who took the lives of Thomas, Billy, and Robert to pay with everything he holds dear, and that should include his life!”

  Twenty

  “Truth lives in the cellar, error on the doorstep.” ~ Austin O’Malley

  WEDNESDAY—NOVEMBER | As the two friends had done so many times over the years—Tommy flying from John Wayne in Irvine, and Wainwright from LAX—they met at Sea-Tac. They rendezvoused in the coffee shop off the aisle in the main terminal and then shared a cab to the CapVest Bellevue headquarters. The surviving Musketeers had come to confront Arnold and get answers. In the taxi, Wainwright said, almost to himself, “Tipping point.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I think the tipping point of this whole mess was Arnold bringing Ecstasy into the company. Somehow, that put all the rest of this in motion. I read the definition for a tipping point somewhere: “The value of the parameter in which the set of equilibria abruptly changes.” Whatever the hell that means.”

  “You’re wrong, Garth. Borstad told you the fraud and conspiracy to conceal it started almost six years ago. He confessed the scam started when you and Arnold kept property sales function at CapVest instead of at All Cities.”

  “Yes, that’s true. But the tipping point for the murders and the other stuff happening to our company was the drugs. Arnold found out about the fraud, he ordered the cover-up, he then told Borstad to distribute the loot to the four other partners. The murders started then. Ecstasy, that was the tipping point. I’m sure of it.”

  “How sure are you, Garth?”

  “Oh, about ten percent or so, I guess.” Wainwright continued the gambit.

  “Oh, never mind that shtick. How are we gonna do this deed?”

  “My take is, we go to Arnold’s office and spill it. We go from the top to the bottom. Look, Tommy, in another life, you and I used to be land salesmen. We just go for it…like in the old days.”

  “Not to diminish your fond recollections of days past, but this
is not a thing to play with lightly. It’s our careers and financial security…it could very well be our lives!”

  “Look at me, Tommy. Does this face look like I’m fooling around? We’ve got the conspiracy. In fact, by now, that chicken-shit Norwegian has told them we’re coming and what we have on them. Ain’t no way to pre-plan this, so put your graduate degree away and grab your landman balls. We’re gonna be in his face and dump on his ass.”

  “Hey, cowboy, just don’t take a swing at Arnold like you did poor ol’ out of shape and out of nerve Norman…” Tommy looked out the cab window and didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. The cab dropped them at the lobby entrance to the gleaming new CapVest Building. They noticed Bennie’s Mercedes was missing, but both Hockney and Arnold’s cars were present. Entering the lobby, they said hello to Hank and headed for the elevators.

  “Tommy, I’ll take the lead with Arnold. Jump in anytime the spirit moves ya, okay?”

  “Right now, the spirit is trying to move my bowels.”

  “Stay strong, good buddy. We’ve got right on our side, and you know they have always said, ‘Right makes might.’ Platitudes aside, what can they do, other than kill us? Don’t forget, this guy masqueraded as our pal, a father figure to the whole damn company. He doped up and put his hand deep in the cookie jar. Arnold is a fraud and a hypocrite. We show him no mercy, and sure as hell we’re not about to take any prisoners.”

  The ding announced the twentieth floor. As the two men passed the reception counter, they smiled at Kimberly on the way to Arnold Chaplain’s office. “Good morning, Vida,” Wainwright greeted her. “Is Arnold free? We need to see him right away.”

  “Oh, sure, Mr. Wainwright. You and Mr. Shaw can go right on in.”

  “Thank you, Vida,” Tommy said as they walked into the hurricane-decorated habitat of the former CEO. Tommy, who by nature was anal-retentive, wondered, How on God’s green earth can anyone function in this mess? Piles of books, files, and loose papers are scattered everywhere among several chessboards. There can’t be any organization to this mess. Poor Vida.

  Wainwright closed the door after they entered Arnold’s workspace and took one of the two leather club chairs opposite the boss’s desk. Tommy stood, his hands resting on the back of the second chair.

  “Gentlemen, to what do I owe this unexpected visit from our southern contingent?”

  Wainwright moved to the front of his chair, saying, “Arnold, we need an explanation. Several months ago, when Keating was still alive, the three of us came to you with evidence of a long-term fraud perpetrated on our investors. Since then, nothing. As far as we know…”

  “What makes you think I’ve done nothing, Garth?”

  “Simply because it has not come up at the board meetings, and you have been avoiding us. I went to Borstad with the same data shown to you. He not only—”

  “I know what he said. Borstad called me Friday after you left Denver. You certainly are sticking your nose in this as far as it will go, aren’t you? I think you two should go back and do your jobs. You know, the ones we’re paying you a shit-pot load of money to do. This other crap is not a part of your job description!”

  In fifteen years, neither of them had ever heard Arnold use foul language. He’d always considered swearing beneath his intellect and counter to his accomplishments. Not anymore.

  Tommy stood up straighter and asked, “So, what have you done to correct the problem?”

  “What I do or don’t do is of no concern of yours. Now, I don’t want to hear any more about fraud, from you two or anyone else. Is that clear?”

  Wainwright moved fully back in his chair. “Arnold, I can’t believe you’re taking this position. It’s so out of character. For all the years I’ve been here, you were the standard-bearer of ethical values. You taught that to all of us, everyone with responsibilities for transactions. Those lessons are a part of the CapVest Way, and now you want to ignore blatant fraud in our midst?”

  His anger barely contained, Wainwright pointed at his former mentor and asked, “Is there some other explanation for what we’ve uncovered? Do you want to tell us where we’re wrong about the evidence, or why Borstad has confessed to fraud and implicated you and others? Can you make this nightmare go away, Arnold?” With a deep sigh, anger was replaced by an emotion connected to times long gone. “Is there some way all of us can regain the confidence and trust and, yes, the love many have for you and Ed? Can you please do that for us?”

  “Garth, you told Borstad you were prepared to go to the SEC with this story, right? You told Borstad if he didn’t cough up the truth, that would be your next step. If you do that, you will destroy CapVest and all of us. You do realize that, don’t you? Wainwright, go back to LA. Leave this alone. There is much more to it than you will ever know. Just forget about it.”

  “You know that is not possible,” Tommy exclaimed. After a brief pause that no one interrupted, Wainwright spoke again.

  “Arnold, I never thought I’d say this, but with the position you are taking, we’ll have to go to the Feds and let them sort it out. Whether we know the cause of the reason you’re concealing the truth, or not, we all know the effects too vividly. This must stop. We’d hoped you might be an agent of change, but you’ve made it clear that someone else must play that role.”

  Wainwright and Tommy were now both standing, about to leave the office, their backs to Arnold, still seated at his desk.

  “This may not be the smartest thing you’ve ever done, Wainwright. In point of fact, it may well be the last thing that you will ever do.”

  Wainwright spun around toward Arnold, stepping forward, lowered into a semi-crouch, with both hands supporting him on the edge of the desk, he looked Arnold levelly in the eyes. “You know, Arnold, that sounded a whole lot like a threat. I don’t like threats.” He was still in deathly eye contact with his mentor. “How ’bout you, Tommy? You like threats? Are you okay with that?”

  “No, I am not.”

  “Arnold here wants us to believe, without explanation, and on the strength of his former authority, that there is no fraud. Hell, I bet he also expects us to forget that three of our partners have been murdered?” Wainwright stood straight, holding his intent on Arnold Chaplain and said, “Neither do I!”

  Abruptly, they both turned leaving Arnold’s office, saying nothing further to Arnold or Vida as they stalked out.

  When they reached the lobby, Tommy asked Hank to call a cab for them. They walked outside to the parking lot to wait. Neither spoke; both were deep in private thoughts. Wainwright was sure Tommy was struggling with the same disconnect about Arnold that he was.

  “That went well, don’t you think?” Wainwright asked his colleague in unemployment.

  “I don’t believe what just happened up there. Maybe aliens have invaded Arnold’s body and mind. It’s like someone I love has died, which I guess is what’s happened. Part of me regrets we started this. Do you feel some guilt about what we’re doing, Garth?”

  “Some, yeah. I can relate to how you’re feeling. We’ve lost our partner, our father confessor, and mentor. How can we not feel the loss? If we get this resolved, it will all be worth it. I sure hope it will be worth what it has already cost. On the other hand, I should have slugged that lying bastard. At least then I’d feel better than I do right now.” The yellow cab pulled up to the lobby doors; they got in and closed the doors.

  “Where to, gents?” asked the driver.

  “Let’s go to a hotel, okay? We can figure out how to decide what to do next.”

  “Tommy, we don’t need to talk. We already know what needs to be done. Talking about Arnold’s rebuff isn’t going to change it.” Then Wainwright said to the driver, “The Federal Building in Seattle, driver.” And the cab pulled away from the CapVest building for the last time for Wainwright and Shaw.

  When the two partners entered the Securities and Exchange Commission building, with the help of an intern, they found the office where Agent Stacy Simpson was tempor
arily billeted. Wainwright, who had only spoken to her on the phone, introduced her to Tommy and explained she came from the Boston office to help with their investigation, and then whispered, “Off the books.” The goal was to save the company, not sic the Feds down on CapVest.

  Stacy stood up from her desk to shake hands with the two men. She needed support from the desk to stand. When she came out from behind it, Wainwright saw she wore a metal brace on her left leg. His notice must have been obvious.

  “It’s something you get used to. I was the last person in the US to contract polio…” She grinned. “…I guess. The good news is that while I’m no good for a marathon, I’m a hell of a decent field goal kicker. I’ll bet you could have used me a few days ago at the park with your kids. Lacey said the fight wasn’t much, but the fact your boys got a new hero in their lives was a whole lot better than watching Robert Urich on Vega$.”

  Wainwright felt ashamed he’d made her uncomfortable and immediately tried to change the subject. “Yeah, well I don’t know about any hero stuff.”

  “No, it’s true. Lacey talked to Tim afterward. Apparently, your boys are more perceptive than you have given them credit. Norman has been trying to put himself in your shoes with the kids, and they’ve been aware of the tactic. Your ex was complicit in the effort to cut you out of their lives, so when the two of them jumped the one of you… Seeing their dad handle it the way you did made the kids very proud of you and a bit ashamed they had allowed Norman and Debbie to steer them in that direction.”

 

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