Silver Justice

by Russell Blake

  “Going public with it could also spook him and drive him underground,” Sam said. “We might never find him then. It’s a risk.”

  “Agreed. I think we do as I suggested and take this up tomorrow.”

  The meeting broke up, and a few of the agents congratulated Sam. It felt like it could be their first break in the case, and it was his diligence that had paid off. Silver approached him as he was leaving.

  “How long will it take to get the images ready for circulation?”

  “It’s getting late. I’d say let the techs have it for the rest of the day, and then we can get it out tomorrow morning.”

  “Good work, Sam. Let me know when we’re ready to rock.”

  “Will do.”

  Late that afternoon, Silver and Richard sat in the conference room going over his notes on the last victim. He’d been on the line with Washington most of the day, and he’d had a chance to lean on his contacts to dig into the organized crime rumors surrounding the brokerage firm. As he laid out the information he’d gleaned, she was amazed at how seamy the financial industry was the more she learned about it. She’d had no idea — typically when she thought about white collar crime, she envisioned embezzling accountants or crooked CEOs cooking the books.

  “What’s truly shocking is that there’s no investigation into this,” Richard said.

  “How can that be? A tiny brokerage suddenly swells to where twenty percent of all U.S. market trading is going through it, at a time when the economy is collapsing and the largest banks are howling about being manipulated into the ground by predatory short selling…and nobody raises an eyebrow? It’s all just business as usual? Explain that to me. Because I don’t understand.”

  “I know. I can’t believe it myself. I simply had no idea about this until I started looking into connections between this victim and the others. But as incredible as it sounds, that’s the case. This guy went from a boutique broker, really a nothing, to one of the most active houses in the world in a space of a few months — and virtually all of the trading was on the short side.”

  “Why isn’t the SEC investigating? This isn’t a smoking gun. This is video footage of a killer holding an Uzi to his victim’s head and pulling the trigger. It’s a no-brainer…”

  “I completely agree. But they aren’t doing squat. It’s been four years since the crash, and the statute of limitations will run out in another year…and nothing,” Richard complained. “For the record, I’ve rarely seen anything this cut and dried. But it’s like they’ve gone deaf, dumb and blind.”

  “What about the DOJ? What about us? Can’t we do something? I mean the Bureau, not me, obviously. Financial Crimes? Your usual beat?”

  “DOJ will only go after financial types after the SEC recommends prosecution. But if the SEC isn’t doing anything, then neither will the DOJ. Remember Masenkoff. He basically had to turn himself in and admit to running the biggest fraud in history before he got arrested. There was no action until he walked through the door with a ‘guilty’ sign around his neck, even though for years most players on Wall Street knew his results couldn’t possibly be true. They had even been warned repeatedly by whistleblowers, and did squat. What does that tell you about the SEC?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nothing good.”

  “Trust me, it’s frustrating.”

  “I know it’s not really a part of this investigation, but surely you can do something with this evidence. Maybe lean on your boss again? This is too big to just ignore.”

  “Silver, you’re singing to the choir, but there’s nothing I can do. The information is out there — there are websites devoted to it. There have been hearings, and speeches, and outraged fist-shaking. But nobody does anything. It’s like it’s all for show, and nobody wants to know the truth. And the media just ignores it all, so the average person thinks everything must be okay. People have short attention spans. I’ll hit my boss again, but I’m not hopeful.”

  “I just can’t believe it. Really. That’s not how things are supposed to work.” Silver shook her head. “I walk into the corner liquor store and stick my gun in the owner’s face and steal four hundred dollars, I’m going to jail, but if I run a brokerage that takes the financial system to the edge of disaster and make billions illegally trading on behalf of the country’s enemies or for criminal syndicates, nobody does anything? That can’t be. It just can’t be, Richard.”

  “I hear you. And I’m also telling you that’s exactly what happened and nobody wants to know about it.” He sighed and stretched, then smiled at her. “This stuff gets to me. It’s my specialty, and sometimes I get too close to it. Sorry.”

  “No problem. I understand why you’re so passionate about it. It’s got me seeing red now too.”

  She studied his expression and felt a stirring of something in her stomach. The same as the other night when they’d kissed. He must have felt it too, because when he glanced at his watch, he did so with an almost elaborate calm.

  “I really enjoyed dinner the other night, Silver. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

  No kidding. She had, too. A whole lot.

  “Me, too. We should definitely do it again.”

  “What about tonight? Are you super-busy, or could you fit in a few hours for your hardest working Financial Crimes liaison? You’ve been so busy getting shot and all, I haven’t had a chance to ask…”

  A tremble of anxiety fluttered through her, but she didn’t try to duck the question. “I suppose I could see my way clear to working you in. Provided I can get the babysitter again.”

  There was an undeniable magnetism to Richard, and she sensed that the pull was mutual. She’d had time to sort out her feelings about the prior dinner date, and she didn’t see any reason to say no to another one.

  “Give her a try. If so, I’ll see if I can get us a table someplace nice. I’ve heard good things about a few places in this area.”

  “There are world-class restaurants on the lower East Side. Some of the best in the city…” she said.

  He stood, his hand brushing hers as he reached for his files. She felt a shiver run down her spine.

  “All right, then,” Richard said. “It’s a date. Buzz me to confirm, okay?”

  “I will. Want to shoot for seven thirty?”

  “Perfect. You want me to give you a ride home?”

  “No, let’s plan on meeting at my building. Assuming I can reach the babysitter, and that she’s free. I guess it’s all up to her schedule, now. I’ll let you know.”

  Richard smiled. “Talk about power…”

  Chapter 16

  Howard watched as the two figures entered the building and then nodded to himself when the lights came on in the windows facing the street. This was his second evening of surveillance, and he was ready to move to the next phase of his plan whenever an opportunity presented itself.

  He rubbed his eyes, which were burning from the long days and only a few hours of sleep every night. The hours were beginning to wear on him, but he was confident that he’d be done soon enough.

  Closing his eyes for a brief moment, the visions of horror came unbidden, as they had with increasing regularity of late. His house belched smoke into the sky as streams of high-pressure water futilely arced through the air, and the soot-streaked face of one of the firefighters screamed an impossible message at him as he struggled to break free from his grip and run into the inferno.

  The seared remains of his beloved wife being carted out in a body bag, followed by his only daughter — struck down in her prime, a gentle spirit who’d never hurt anyone or anything in her life.

  He opened his eyes and realized that he had no answers to the questions that played through his mind whenever the visions came. Why had his angels been torn from him in such a brutal and ugly way? And why his daughter? Why had she been the one to try to rescue her mother from her mad act instead of him? To what end? All he had were questions, and he knew he would never have suitable responses, except that the world
was random and chaotic in how it apportioned cruel outcomes, and that evil often prevailed for no good reason.

  Howard shook off the memories. He couldn’t afford sentimentality if he was going to be effective. There would be plenty of opportunities for harsh introspection once he was finished — for now, he needed to focus.

  He settled in for another long vigil, thankful that he might be able to snatch a few hours of sleep once the hour grew later and the object of his surveillance went down for the night. But the clock was working against him — he would need to make his move soon. He wanted to avoid anything during the daytime, but it was increasingly looking like he might have no choice.

  Time was running out.

  Richard pulled to the curb and put the car in park, then called Silver on his cell.

  “I’m downstairs. I got us a last minute reservation at Gramercy Tavern. Have you heard of it?”

  “Heard of it? It’s one of my favorite restaurants. But I’ll need to change — it’s kind of upscale.”

  “Well, hurry up. We’ve got to be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll be down in five.”

  He hung up and turned on the radio, scanning the airwaves until he found something he liked. Gypsy Kings. Flamenco voices filled the car as guitars strummed furiously, and he tapped his fingers along with the music on the steering wheel.

  Ten minutes later, Silver appeared at the front door, looking ravishing in a one-piece black dress cut just above her knees. Richard turned down the radio and got out of the car to greet her.

  “Wow. That’s quite an outfit you threw together in nothing flat,” he said approvingly.

  “A girl can never go wrong with a black dress. My mom told me that. When in doubt, go black and keep it simple.” She flashed a smile, white teeth dazzling in the twilight.

  “I feel underdressed now. Hardly Cary Grant to your Audrey Hepburn.” He gestured to his dark blue Tommy Bahama shirt and black slacks.

  “Nonsense. They’ll be more than happy to take your money, either way. Come on. I’m starving, and time’s a wasting.”

  Richard opened the passenger door for her. “How’s the bullet wound?”

  “You mean the scratch? I’ve had toothaches that hurt worse.” A small exaggeration, but not too much.

  “I wonder if you’ll get a medal for being shot in the tush…”

  They both laughed.

  “Wouldn’t that be typical? Hey, at least it would be a great conversation starter at the local watering hole.”

  “Something tells me you won’t be needing that tonight. You’re spoken for,” Richard said, and she liked the way he said it. It was nice to be spoken for. She noted that his arms were well muscled. Not too much, but not too little. She’d only seen him in long-sleeved dress shirts, and upon consideration, she decided that they were exactly right.

  “Are you in awe of being in the presence of a genuine FBI combat veteran?” she teased.

  “Definitely. It’s impressive. That, and the dress isn’t bad either.”

  She felt the tingle in her stomach again and decided that was exactly right, too. She liked that he had such an effect on her.

  “Better hit the lights, Kojak, or we’ll never get there in time.”

  He made a point of trotting around the car at a jog, then threw open his door and swung behind the wheel. The engine cranked over, and within a few seconds they were threading their way towards the restaurant.

  Neither of them registered the SUV parked thirty yards across the street, nor did they notice that the occupant seemed particularly interested in their departure, as well as the departure of the NYPD cruiser that had been sitting a few yards behind them.

  Silver and Richard settled into their corner table in the mood-lit restaurant and sipped their cosmopolitans appreciatively.

  “Everything looks amazing,” Richard said, studying the menu and glancing at the table next to them, where the couple was halfway through their entrees.

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  They took their time with their drinks, and when the waiter arrived, Silver ordered the lamb chops, and Richard got the filet and selected a Malbec from the considerable wine list. When the bottle arrived, he sniffed the cork and then nodded approval after tasting a splash of it in his glass.

  “You know a lot about wine?” Silver asked, studying the deep, garnet-colored Malbec in her glass.

  “This one’s red. I understand they make white ones, too.”

  They studied each other’s expressions then both laughed simultaneously.

  “So you’re an expert.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. But I know what I like.” He held his glass aloft and toasted her. She clinked the lip of her glass against his and took a sip.

  “Wow,” Silver said, “that’s really good.”

  “You like?”

  “Me like.”

  The waiter brought bread, and they munched on it as they bantered. By the time the main course arrived, the wine was almost gone. Richard ordered a second bottle.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk? Because it’s kind of working,” she warned.

  “It better be. At these prices, I’d have to take out a loan if you needed a third bottle.”

  “Maybe we can only pay for what we drink? Give them part of the bottle back?” Silver suggested.

  “Heresy. There won’t be anything to give back.”

  They savored their meal, and Silver realized that she was enjoying her evening with Richard far more than she’d hoped. He was witty, self-deprecating but very fast, yet with no trace of competitiveness. Just a handsome, smart man sitting across from her. And a great kisser, she remembered.

  When they were done, the waiter brought the dessert menu, but Silver waved him off. Richard stopped him.

  “Do you have something really chocolaty?” he asked the waiter. “I’ve kind of got a craving tonight.”

  “Yes, of course. We have a specialty of the house. Molten chocolate cake with a drizzle of hot chocolate sauce.”

  Richard nodded. “Sounds heart healthy and low calorie. We’ll split one.”

  The waiter nodded and departed.

  Silver studied him with new approval. “And you like chocolate, too?” she asked, finishing her glass of wine.

  Richard poured the last of the second bottle into their cups and placed it on the edge of the table. “Doesn’t everybody?”

  When they made their way to the sidewalk to wait for the valet to bring the car, Richard wrapped his arms around Silver from behind. She leaned her head back against him.

  “Mmm. That was incredible, Richard. Thank you so much. You know how to spoil a girl, that’s for sure.”

  He kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her cheek.

  “Some girls deserve it,” he said, and she turned towards him.

  Their second kiss lasted an eternity, and by the time it was finished, her knees were weak. When the car arrived, they parted wordlessly, and the valet got out and ran to open her door for her. She slid in and glanced over at Richard, who leaned over and kissed her again, savoring her taste and smell.

  A horn tooted from behind them, breaking them out of the moment. Richard waved in his rearview mirror and put the car in gear. Silver slid her hand over and took his.

  “I don’t mean to be presumptuous,” Richard ventured, “but could I talk you into a nightcap? I know a place by my apartment…”

  And there it was. The moment of truth they’d been leading up to all night. If she said yes there was no turning back, she knew.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  They made short work of their chocolate martinis at the dark little bar around the corner from his place, and spent the last half of their short time there kissing in a private booth at the rear. It was a slow night, and they had the area to themselves, the bartender and waitress occupied at the front with their few regular customers. A guitar player sat by the window near the door, playing Cat Stevens and James Blunt, croon
ing softly into a mike. Silver hummed along with the melodies as they relished each other. When their glasses were empty, Richard stood and took her by the hand, and they weaved their way to the front, pausing to put a ten-dollar bill in the hat by the guitar player’s feet.

  Once out on the street, he guided her to his front door, and they waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive and take them to his fifth-floor apartment. They were alone, and she traced the beginnings of laugh lines around his eyes with her fingers after another kiss, wondering at the good fortune that had brought them to this point. She wanted him more than she thought possible. It had been far too long, and she resolved herself to not analyze anything and instead to enjoy being carried along by life.

  Inside his darkened apartment, Silver pulled at the buttons of his shirt, rubbing her hands hungrily along his stomach as he leaned his head back and moaned, her tongue flicking his neck as she panted her need in his ear. She could feel his arousal through his slacks and pushed him towards the open bedroom door as she stripped off his top, the only illumination the dim glow from the windows facing the street.

  Richard ran his fingers through the hair at the back of her head, and his fingers tightened on it, restraining her while he ran his lips along her earlobe. Her breath caught in her throat at the pull of his hand, and she groaned with pleasure as his tongue followed her neck down to her shoulder. When his hands caressed her breasts through the dress, she moaned again, and then with a single movement, she pulled the dress over her head and tossed it on the floor.

  She pulled at the waist of his pants with an excited urgency, and within seconds he was naked, the evidence of his passion unmistakable. She took him in her mouth, and he sighed with pleasure, and then without saying a word, she stood and slipped her panties off.

  They fell onto the bed, his hands all over her body, stroking her, teasing her. Silver pushed him back against the pillows and shuddered with passion, straddling him while still locked in a deep kiss. She trembled with anticipation, then her back arched as he slid into her slickness. An animal sound escaped her lips, raw and wanton, as she greeted his thrust with a furious intensity that matched his own.