***
After Bill's plane landed in Albany, he rented a car, drove downtown, and checked into a hotel. He ate dinner and then called Roxanne Witherspoon to arrange a meeting. She agreed to meet him in Lincoln Park the following morning. With several hours to kill, he decided to go to the local police station and see if he could make a friend. He figured he might need some information later on, so if he had a contact in the local police department it could be quite helpful.
After driving around downtown he spotted a station, parked his car, and went inside. Two dispatchers were sitting behind a counter talking to some patrol officers. He went up to them and waited for one of them to get free.
"Hi, what can I do for you?"
"Oh, I just came by to say hello. I'm a police officer from Mesquite, Texas. I'm doing a little freelance investigation work and I wondered if I could visit with one of your detectives a minute."
"Well there's just one detective working tonight. Let me see if she's got the time to talk to you."
"Thank you. I really appreciate it."
The dispatcher rang the detective's number and conversed with her briefly. Then she looked up and said, "Detective Paula Sands will be with you shortly."
"Thank you."
Bill turned around and walked over to some benches and sat down. He was tired after the long flight from Dallas and was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Spotting a coffee machine, he went over to it and got a cup of coffee.
"I could use a cup, too," Detective Sands said.
Bill turned around and was pleasantly surprised by the tall brunette who was looking him over. She smiled pleasantly and extended her hand. He shook it.
"Hello. You must be Detective Sands."
"Yes, Paula Sands."
"Hi. I'm Bill Ross,” he said. “How do you take it?”
"Black."
Bill frowned. "Really?"
"Yes. Is that so strange?"
"I guess not. My ex-wife liked it black too. She always had to be the tough little cop."
She frowned. "You have something against female cops?"
"No, in fact, I still love my ex-wife. We just couldn't live together."
"Oh really?” she said as she folded her arms and looked at him intently. "Why?"
"At first it was great. We obviously had a lot in common, but then I started to move up and she didn't go anywhere. It wasn't right. She was every bit as good a cop as I was but, let’s face it, most police departments have been dominated by men for decades so a woman has a tough go of it."
"Tell me about it," Paula said.
"Yeah, you should know what I'm talking about. Anyway, she became resentful and started blaming the discrimination on me. She said I didn't stand up for her. Our relationship went down fast."
"I'm lucky here. We've got a very liberal police chief. He won't tolerate the least bit of sexual discrimination. I've actually moved up in the ranks at a record pace."
"You must be good."
"Of course."
Bill laughed, "And proud, too, I can see. . . . Are you married?"
"No.”
"That's surprising. As attractive and personable as you seem to be, I would have thought men would be tripping over themselves to pronounce their love."
"No, quite the contrary. Very few men want to date a female cop. I guess I intimidate them."
"Then you won't mind if I buy you a drink when you get off work?"
"No, not at all."
"When would that be?"
"Eleven."
"Excellent. You know the city better than me, so where should we meet?"
"There's a place called Monty's Hideout on Broadway. I'll see you there at 11:30."
"Good."
Bill left and went back to his hotel to clean up for his date with Detective Sands. He couldn't believe his good fortune. Not only did he now have a contact on the force but also a companion for the night. After he showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth, he got dressed and left for Monty's.
Monty's place was obviously a police hangout. Several officers were still in their police uniforms drinking beer before they headed home. Paula wasn't there yet, so Bill got a booth and ordered a beer. Pretty soon she walked through the door and scanned the room. When Bill saw her, he waved and she walked over to him.
"Sorry I'm late, but I got covered up in paperwork."
"Oh, God. I hate paperwork. You want a beer?"
"No, actually I'd like a gin and tonic."
"Ma'am!" Bill yelled to a barmaid walking by.
“Can I help you, sir?” she asked.
"We need a gin and tonic over here."
"All right, I'll be right back."
Bill frowned and said, "God, I hate gin. I don't know how you can stand it."
"What do you mean? It's good."
"Ehh!"
"So, what brings you to Albany?"
"I'm going to interview a potential witness in a case I’ve got going back in Texas."
"What kind of case?"
"A murder case."
"Oh really? Have I heard about it?"
"Maybe. Did you hear about the two women brutally murdered near Lewisville, Texas and then dumped in the Trinity River?”
"The attorney’s wife?”
"Right. Lynn Coleman."
"I thought that case was closed?"
“The authorities have closed it, but Matt’s mother and father, Erica and Rich Coleman, won’t give up. They’ve got me on the case and they spend every spare moment trying to get their son out of jail.”
“So, can I help out?”
"I'm not sure I need any help but I appreciate the offer. If something comes up, I’ll let you know."
Paula smiled and said, "I'm glad you came by tonight. I'd be home alone watching Jay Leno if you hadn't."
"We'd both be home alone watching Jay Leno."
"Right.”
"So, did you ever come close to getting married?"
"Yes, right out of high school my boyfriend asked me. I gave it a lot of thought but I wasn't ready to settle down and have kids. You know what I mean?"
"Oh yeah, that's way too young to get married. You need to wait until you understand life a little better and have some money in the bank."
"Did you understand life when you got married?"
"No, and I didn't have any money in the bank either."
They both laughed and their hands touched. Bill took the opportunity to take Paula's hand in his and squeeze it gently. She smiled and then sat up straight as the barmaid showed up with her drink. Bill reluctantly let her hand go and picked up his beer and took a swig.
After they had consumed too many drinks to drive home, they got a cab and went to Bill's hotel. They paid the driver and went up to his room.
The following morning Bill and Paula slept late. When Bill finally looked over at the clock, it was already 9:30.
"Shit, I've got to meet someone at ten."
Paula rolled over and said, "Go ahead, I'll still be asleep when you get back."
"You will?" Bill laughed. "Don't you have to work today?"
"Not until three."
"Good, I'll be back in a couple of hours and we can have lunch."
"Okay," Paula said and then turned over and hugged her pillow.
Bill got dressed and caught a cab to where he had left his rental car. Then he drove over to Lincoln Park to meet Roxanne Witherspoon. She had told him over the phone that she was a short, middle-aged woman who would be wearing a grey business suit. After searching for several minutes, they found each other and took a seat on a park bench.
“You mentioned having something that belonged to Frank Hill,” she said.
“Right, a Day-Timer. That’s how I found you,” Bill replied.
“So, what do you want from me?”
“You used to work for him, right?”
She took a deep breath and looked away. “I guess it wouldn’t do any good to deny it.”
“No, and let me say r
ight off the bat that we have no interest in hurting you in any way.”
She turned to him and frowned. “I shouldn’t be talking to you. Are you sure you aren’t under surveillance?”
“Absolutely. I fully appreciate how ruthless Mr. Hill can be.”
She let out a deep chuckle. “You have no idea.”
Bill noted the fear in her voice and wanted to reassure her. He said, “Anyway, to answer your question. I took every precaution to ensure that we would be alone today. You don’t have to worry about your safety.”
“I’m safe now, but if I help you, and I presume that’s why you’re here, how safe will I be then?”
Bill smiled. “Honestly, I don’t know, but the fact that you agreed to meet me indicates you realize it’s time to stop Frank Hill.”
She nodded and said, “On that subject we are in agreement.”
Bill smiled and took a deep breath. He didn’t know exactly where to begin but he figured he should brief Roxanne on Matt’s run-in with MidSouth Bank, Lynn’s murder, and Matt’s incarceration. She knew all about it.
“My retirement from MidSouth Bank couldn’t have come at a better time. Matt Coleman had just started rocking MidSouth’s boat, and I knew it was going to get ugly. I had been Frank Hill’s personal secretary for about fifteen years and knew him to be a ruthless businessman. Frank took over as chairman after the bank was shut down by the FDIC in 1986. He headed a group of well-financed vultures who were picking up failed banks and thrifts in Texas, Oklahoma and Louisiana for a song. The group divided the assets they had acquired between two entities, MidContinent Bank and MidSouth Bank. The performing assets went to MidContinent and the nonperforming went to MidSouth. Frank was given the nonperforming assets to deal with.”
“What was he supposed to do with them?” Bill asked.
“Hunt down the persons financially responsible for the debts and do whatever it took to collect them. He loved his job.”
“Was he successful?”
“Oh, yes. He was like a bloodhound on a rabbit. He would become obsessed with collecting an account. He’d hire private detectives to locate assets or get dirt on the people who owed the bank money. Then he’d threaten them with dire consequences if they didn’t pay up.”
“What about the Fair Debt Collection Act?”
She laughed. “He didn’t care about any collection laws. He scared people. Once Frank Hill was in their face they wanted nothing else but to be rid of him, at all cost.”
“It’s just hard to believe that he could get away with being so ruthless.”
“Well, the people did owe the money and the feds were very interested in slamming the people responsible for the banking and savings and loan crisis. The government loved Frank Hill. He was their man and he knew it. Once he had established his reputation in the financial community, anyone who got word that Frank was after them either arranged to pay it quickly or made plans to leave the country.”
Bill shook his head. “So, how long did it take him to liquidate the bank’s assets?”
“In about four years he had collected nearly 80% of the debts owed the bank, which was phenomenal compared to the national average. Then he became bored and started looking around for ways to aggressively invest all the money he had collected. The clear choice was subprime lending. Credit cards were where the big money was to be made. They had been around for some time and were gaining in popularity each year. They were stable and easy to administer as computers got more powerful and traditionally demanded a very high interest rate. The only problem was the credit card industry was becoming more and more competitive.”
“So what was his plan?”
“To concentrate on higher risk accounts that banks and even subprime lenders wouldn’t touch. He went after traditional customers but also launched a strong marketing campaign on college campuses. He got lists of high school graduating classes and immediately sent them a credit card application. For the first time a job wasn’t a requirement to get credit. He figured mom and dad would provide the funding for the debt service on the card or, if not, the students would get part time jobs to pay back the cards. He once said he didn't care if they had to sell drugs to pay back the bank as long as it got its money.”
“Is it true MidSouth sent credit card applications to persons who had just filed bankruptcy?”
“Oh, yes. He loved people who had already filed bankruptcy. He said they couldn’t file for another six years so he had plenty of time to milk them dry.”
“With all these high-risk accounts wasn’t there a high default rate?” Bill asked.
“Yes, but it didn’t matter. MidSouth was making so much money that the 5% who defaulted didn’t leave a dent in bottom-line profits.”
“Until Matt came along?”
“Exactly. I remember the first board meeting after Frank got wind of Matthew Coleman’s new Debt Relief Centers. Frank was very upset because MidSouth’s credit card default rate had gone up 3% in just sixty days. This wasn’t enough to put the bank in any danger, but it caused a 25% decline in profits for the quarter. He ordered an immediate investigation of Matt and the centers so that he could develop a strategy to terminate the threat to the bank.”
“So, what was his plan?”
“I don’t know. I retired shortly thereafter and Martha Simonton took over for me. Thank God.”
“Before you retired, did Frank Hill take any direct action against Matt?”
“Yes, he contacted an old buddy from the service, Hans Schultz. He paid him $20,000 to pull some dirty tricks on Matt to discredit him. I overheard several conversations between them.”
“The prostitute?”
“Right. That was one of them.”
“What else?”
“When that didn’t work, Frank was pissed so he told Hans to get someone on the inside to set Matt up.”
Bill scratched his head. “He must have got to Tom. Shit.”
“That’s right. The guy on the inside was named Tom.”
Bill took a deep breath. “The pieces are now starting to fall into place.”
“That’s all I know. I was glad to get the hell out of MidSouth Bank when I did.”
“Does Frank know how much you know?”
“I’m not sure. Most of the information I picked up came about inadvertently. He never directly confided in me, but I’m sure he suspects I know something. He stressed when I left that everything I learned while working for the bank was strictly confidential and there would be dire consequences if I ever disclosed anything.”
“So, why are you talking to me?”
She gave me a long hard look. “The bastard killed my friend.”
“Martha?”
She nodded. “I warned her about taking the job but she didn’t listen. She said I was overreacting—that all CEO’s were ruthless and played hardball. She just didn’t understand that Frank was—” She looked away. A deep pervasive sadness overcame her. She leaned over and started to weep.
“Frank was what?”
She slowly looked up at Bill and replied, “The devil himself.”
Bill swallowed hard. He knew she was right. Frank Hill had no honor and no conscience. He had killed Lori and Lynn even after Matt went to prison to protect them. Bill shook his head in disgust. He prayed one day he’d come face to face with Franklin Benjamin Hill. If he ever got so lucky he’d put a bullet through his heart—if he had one.
When Bill got back to the hotel, Paula was still asleep. He smiled, kneeled down, and kissed her on the lips. She opened her eyes and said, "What time is it?"
"Eleven-thirty. You gonna sleep all day?"
"Uh huh,” she said and turned over and closed her eyes.
"Come on, aren't you hungry?"
"A little," she said rolling back over on her back exposing her exquisite breasts. Bill shook his head and sat down next to her. She noticed him focusing on her breasts so she pulled up the sheet.
"You sure got lucky last night."
"
I know. Now I don't want to go back to Dallas."
"Hmm. Do you have to go?"
"Yeah, but I have a feeling I'll be back to visit soon."
"I hope so. I don't like one-night stands."
"Me either."
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes, exactly what I was looking for—a critical witness who can help me get a good friend out of prison.”
"Really?"
He nodded. “But I have a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Her life will be in danger just as soon as our adversaries find out we’ve found her.”
She sat up, holding her sheet over her breasts, and gave Bill a sympathetic look. “Hmm. That is a problem.”
“So, I was wondering if you might keep an eye on her for me?”
She frowned. “Have you forgotten I’m a detective?”
“I’m sure you have a couple friends who could split duty with you? Unless you get paid a lot more than I do, I’m sure you could use the cash. My client can afford to pay top rates.”
She gave him a thoughtful look. “I guess I could arrange it. If it’s important to you.”
“It is. Very important.”
She gave him a wry smile. “You’re going to owe me though—big time.”
Bill pulled the sheets from her grasp and tossed them aside. He pushed her back on the bed and said, “Don’t worry. I always pay my debts.”
Plastic Gods, A Rich Coleman Novel Vol 2 Page 35
