Silenced Justice: A Josh Williams Novel (16 page)

BOOK: Silenced Justice: A Josh Williams Novel
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

As the pictures downloaded from the camera, Josh ran the plate from the vehicle parked in the JTS management spot. Looking at the information on the screen, he said, "Hey, Tommy, what was the name on that Delaware Corporation you found?"

"Wait a minute. I got it right here," Moore's fingers flying over the keyboard. "Harriet Lane Enterprises, PO Box 465, Dover, Delaware. I can dig into it some more, why?"

"The car I spotted is listed to Harriet Lane Associates with a PO Box 487 in Delaware. No coincidence there. Do your magic and run that to ground. Get it all. If you need some intrastate subpoenas call--."

"I know, I know your favorite, Kristin Volpe," Moore interrupted. "I mean, ah, that is, or someone, anyone, else?"

Josh fixed Moore in his sights. "You handle it, whoever it is. Understand?"

Moore tried to contain the smile. Failing that, he ducked his head behind the computer.

Kennedy came over to Josh's desk. "Let me see the pictures you took."

Josh brought up the images. "It looked to me like the two guys were security of some sort. The woman was on a cell the whole time. They bracketed her as they walked out, heads on swivels, looking everywhere."

"Nothing familiar to me. How about we run them through our facial recognition database? Might get lucky," Kennedy suggested.

"I'll email them to you.” A moment later, Josh said, "On the way. It will be interesting to see if you get a hit on them."

"Hey, listen to this," Moore interjected. "I did a Google search on Harriet Lane Enterprises and Harriet Lane Associates. Many stories on the business wires. They're buying up properties and businesses all over, quite a few of them here in Rhode Island. They are buying several companies which manage state lotteries and casino facilities.” Tommy paused to click through more search results. "Holy shit, listen to this one," Tommy said.

Kennedy and Josh looked at the excited detective.

"I just checked the LexisNexis search I've been running. Harriet Lane Enterprises acquired a fifty-five percent interest in Mohegan Sun. But here's the biggie, they just took over the parent corporation that owns Twin River," Tommy explained. "There must be some big money behind them."

"Twin River?" Kennedy asked.

"Twin River is a casino run by the state and a private entity in Lincoln, Rhode Island," Tommy said. "They had some big development plans in place for the site. The money involved must be huge."

"Wait a minute," Kennedy muttered, typing on his laptop keyboard. "Wait a minute, yeah here it is. Listen to this. It's an intelligence briefing from an informant in another Russian mob case. I sat in on the interview. These are my notes," he said, clicking through screens on the laptop. "He provided information they were using front companies to buy land located near ports."

Kennedy finished his coffee, putting the cup back on the desk. "We assumed they were looking for easy access to waterfront buildings for smuggling. However, suppose it is more sophisticated. Suppose the businesses themselves are fronts to launder money."

Josh and Moore followed along with the Kennedy's ramblings. "You mean use businesses with high cash flow to bury dirty money?" Josh asked

"Look, we know several things about the Russians. They've tried for years to gain control over political figures. It was inevitable they would get their hooks into someone. They use sophisticated methods of money laundering. There is no better cash flow than casinos and state lottery systems. Couple that with buying up waterfront locations. They pay premium prices as a legitimate way to induce the owners to sell. Failing that, they have other ways to encourage cooperation. It's perfect." Kennedy tapped his fingers on the desk, stroking his neck, "And it would explain the attempt on you, Josh. You're talking billions of dollars in revenues. There's a reason to kill."

Moore listened to Kennedy, and then asked. "I get the casino angle, easy to inject cash into the business, but I don't get the lottery. Isn't there more auditing controls over cash flow?"

Kennedy smiled. "Not if they control the controllers. Look, we know they have their hands in other businesses. If they control the Lottery, they control the audit trail." Kennedy stood and picked up a legal pad.

“If I print the tickets, distribute the tickets, collect the revenue from the tickets, and pay out the winnings on the tickets I can control the amounts reported. They eliminate the checks and balances by corrupting the process.

"So, you think this JTS Management is a front for them?" Moore asked

"No, too simple. They would never risk that level of their operations on an unaffiliated person. Either she's one of the cover companies, or they threatened her into complying." Kennedy scrolled through more screens on the computer.

"Tucker told me she was divorced but her husband set her up in the business," Josh said.

Kennedy looked up, smiling. "And her ex is the Chief of Staff of a sitting United States Senator. A Senator who sits on two of the most influential committees, Banking and Judiciary. If you can't control the Senator, you control the guy who does control the Senator. Or both."

"Will someone please tell me how we fell into this shit?" Moore said. "This is East Providence, not Leningrad."

"Think about it," Josh replied. "East Providence has one of the largest undeveloped waterfront areas on the East Coast. It has been sitting there, unused, for years. There is a deep-water port, access to railways, and a nearby airport, most of the necessary infrastructure. The politicians in the city never possessed the foresight to develop it.” Josh turned to look at Kennedy, “We follow the money, right?"

"Well said, Deep Throat, well said. We look for recent land acquisitions, business transfers, or anything linked to the waterfront. Not just in East Providence, but throughout the area."

"Hey, I remember something…," Tommy said, shuffling through the piles of papers on his desk. "Take a look at this."

"And that is?" Josh asked.

"Application for Transfer of Liquor License. You know the old Oyster House Restaurant on Water Street; someone bought it and applied for the liquor license." Turning to Kennedy, "We get these all the time. Chief Brennan likes us to do the background. Perhaps we need to look into this one a bit deeper."

"Okay, here's what we need to do. Josh, you handle the local look at any land transactions along the East Providence waterfront. Don't limit it to just here, though. Look at anywhere along, what is it called?"

"Narragansett Bay?" Josh said.

"Yeah, that's it. Tommy, you check out the licensee applications. All of them. Dig deep on anyone you can find connected to them." Kennedy stood up, grabbing his cell phone off the desk, "I'm going to head down to DC. This will take some more resources, but I want to make sure we keep control of this here." Opening the door, he hesitated a moment. "One other thing, did you ever hear from Brennan about the State Police?"

"Brennan sent me a text. The troopers are sending two detectives, don't know who yet but I am sure Brennan worked his magic with the Colonel."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

Tommy Moore spent several hours plugging away online, digging into the myriad resources available. The license application was under the name of William A. Marshall, age 40 from Barrington, Rhode Island. He had no criminal record. Lived at the same address for 18 years and owned several restaurants in Boston, Providence, Worcester, and Newport.

The reviews of the restaurants were all excellent. They were several articles about Marshall in various culinary magazines and travel sites. His business reputation was spotless.

Yet, something about him bothered Moore. Something wasn't right; he just couldn't put his finger on it. Leaning back in the chair, he rubbed his eyes, exhaling.

Josh looked up from his desk, "Find something?"

Moore didn't answer.

"Hey, blockhead," Josh yelled. "You in there?"

Moore looked up, "What? Oh, sorry LT. Just looking into this license application shit. The guy is so clean it's scary. I bet he never had a pimple in his entire life. But…."

"But what?"

"I don't know, there’s something. It just doesn't add up." Moore shook his head. "I just can't figure out what it is."

"So tell me."

After detailing Marshall's business history, Moore put his feet up on his desk and sat back in his chair.

"How about prior businesses? Was he always in the restaurant business?" Josh asked.

Swinging his legs off the desk, Moore sat up. "Far as I can see, right out of school. Opened his first one at twenty-two years old. Been successful enough to buy his own plane. He has a pilot's license for single and multi-engine planes."

"Where does a twenty-two year-old get the money to do that?" Josh asked.

The light went on in Moore's eyes. "Yeah, dammit. Where'd he get the money for that?"

"Check his educational background. Might be something there," Josh added, heading out for a meeting with Brennan. "I'll be back around five o’clock; we'll head over for a beer at Bovi's. Sound good to you?"

Moore was oblivious to the conversation, buried back in his computer. Josh smiled and left.

When Josh returned to the office four hours later, Moore was still engrossed in his research.

"Anything new?"

"Hang on LT; got a couple of things I am waiting for. I hit the jackpot with this one," Moore answered.

While he waited for Moore, Josh sat at his desk answering emails and catching up on routine matters.

"Son-of-a-bitch," Moore shouted. "Goddamn son-of-a-bitch," watching as several pages of documents came out of the printer.

"I take it you found something?" Josh asked.

"Wait until you hear this," grabbing pages from the printer. "Marshall went to Brown University. As we all know, a big money school, right? I used some of my contacts at the Brown police to dig into the finances. A trust fund paid for school, a big trust fund. Both his parents died when he was just a kid. After he graduated from Brown, he got control of the money. That explains the restaurants, sort of."

Rising from his chair, he walked to Josh's desk and stood against the wall. "Here's the thing. He majored in History. Wait for it, Russian History," waving the papers in the air. "He went to Russia several times on research projects."

"Don't tell me you think he got hooked up with the Russians then? Come on, Tommy."

"No, I don't. Let me finish. He graduates from Brown. Does he decide to chuck his Ivy League History degree to be a cook? Nope. He decides to open a restaurant so he and his best friend, and roommate, can hide their other sideline, cocaine."

"And you deduced this how?" Josh asked.

"Because my contact at Brown PD talked to his father, a retired Brown security guy. He remembered Marshall and his foreign roommate. Caught them a few times with coke, but the trustee paid off Brown with some extra donations to make it disappear. It all makes sense. The cocaine funded the restaurants. Marshall knew enough to hire good chefs and run a good operation, both the legitimate one and the not so legitimate one." Moore folded his arms, smiling.

"So what does Russia have to do with any of this?"

"Ah, there's the rub, as some guy I can't remember says," Moore replied.

"Shakespeare."

"Who? Oh, yeah,” a grin creeping across Moore's face. "His foreign roommate," eyebrows bouncing up and down, "was Anthony Sorin."

"No shit?"

"And Mr. Sorin immigrated to the US from…"gesturing to Josh.

"Russia," Josh answered.

"We have a winner," Tommy laughed, pointing at Josh. "Tell us what he's won, Johnny,"

"Great work, Tommy. Wait until the Feds hear this one. How the hell did you find this out?" Josh said

"After I found out Sorin was Marshall's roommate, I called a friend at Immigration and Customs Enforcement. We served in the Marine Corps together. He tracked down the information about Sorin emigrating from Russia. When the family emigrated, they changed the name from Sorinkov to Sorin, sounds more American."

"Either way it was great work,” Josh said. “Now all we gotta do is tie this to Collucci and my day will be perfect. Come on, I owe you a beer for all that hard work."

* * *

 

The next morning, Josh and Keira sat having coffee on their back deck. Josh threw the ball for Cassidy. The dog never tired of chasing and retrieving the ball.

"So, is there anything we can do for her?" Josh asked.

"You mean about the charges against her father?" Keira said. "Not much. I can file a motion to dismiss them. Get a judge to go along. A symbolic gesture at best. Other than that, nothing."

Josh grabbed the ball from Cassidy, faked a throw towards one side, and then threw the ball deep into the woods. "Can she sue the state? Or Collucci? Wrongful death or something? "

Keira shook her head. "Nope, the statute of limitations on wrongful death is three years. Collucci would be an agent of the state, indemnified by law unless you could prove a crime. I don't think you have enough. Trying to convince a court Collucci had anything to do with the prison murder case would never fly."

"So that's it?" Josh asked. "We can't do anything?"

Keira thought for a moment. "How about we do this? I'll file the motion to dismiss the charges and hold a press conference detailing the circumstances. Blast the shit out of Collucci. At least make him squirm a bit."

"Hmm, I like it," Josh smiled as Cassidy dropped the soggy, muddy ball into his lap. "Jeez, Cassidy put it on the deck, not me," tossing the ball once again.

"Your friend, Judge Tucker, might catch some shit over it," Keira said. "You willing to let that happen?"

"I think the Judge is hoping we do something with this. Otherwise why would he have sent those things to me?" Josh watched as Cassidy returned with the ball. "Let's go for it."

Cassidy ran up the stairs, dropping the ball at Josh's feet. "There you go. Good girl," Josh said, bending to pick the ball up.

Cassidy turned away, looking toward the woods, a low guttural growl coming from her.

Josh looked out towards the woods. "What is it girl? There a deer out there?” Cassidy continued to growl, sticking her head through the railings on the deck, her nose sniffing the air.

"What do you think it is?" Keira asked.

"Either a deer or coyote of something," Josh replied. "She doesn't like anything in her territory.” Josh called the dog over. "It's okay, good girl. Keep them wild animals away."

Josh and Keira walked back in the house, calling Cassidy in and closing the sliders behind them. Cassidy sat at the door. Staring into the woods, she watched the shadow move away.

 

* * *

 

Josh headed downtown to meet with Chris and the others. Pulling up in front of the Packett Building, he walked into the lobby, taking the elevator to the third floor. Started in a one-room closet as an office, Alpha Babes Investigation had expanded to take over the entire third floor. Josh got off the elevator. Vera Johnson was sitting at the front desk.

"They got you on receptionist duty?" Josh asked.

"I like it out here, wide open. I can do my work without feeling cooped up. Nice view as well," pointing to the large window overlooking the South Main Street skyline.

"Are the other two evil ones in their caves?"

"Yes, they are. Anticipating an update on the Grey case which we hope will contain good news," Vera laughed.

"Indeed it does, my friend. Indeed it does."

Vera put the phones on auto-answer and followed Josh into the conference room.

Maggie Fleming and Chris Hamlin came in, along with Vera's niece, Loren Grey.

"Hello Lieutenant Williams," Loren greeted him, “How are you?"

"I'm well, Loren. And you?"

"A little nervous, my aunt said you had some news for us."

"I do have some things to tell you," Josh said.

"By the way," Loren said, “thanks for getting me back in touch with Reggie and his wife. We have a lot of things to catch up on."

Josh nodded and smiled. "Glad to hear it. Okay, first the good stuff. Sort of," waiting as the group settled in around the conference table. "We've gathered a bunch of evidence that they framed your father for the crimes. The cops, the AG’s office, and prison staff worked to put your father in the general prison population knowing they would kill him."

Loren began to sob, shaking her head. Vera put her arm around the young woman. "But why would they do that? Why?"

"Well, quite simply, because he was black and the victims were white," Josh said. "They wanted vengeance, not justice. They hid the truth to achieve their goal." Josh let the words sink in. "My wife, Keira, says we can file a motion to have the charges dismissed by the court. I know it's not much, more symbolic gesture than anything else. Nothing can bring him back, but we can try to restore his good name. And, she'll announce all this at a press conference. We can't do much more than make those responsible a bit uncomfortable, but at least it's something."

Josh put his hand on Loren's arm, "Your father was a soldier. Did you know that?"

Loren lifted her head, "No, I didn't know anything about him. My mother must have thought it would be too difficult for me to learn about him. I didn't find out about him until after she died. My aunt," reaching out and taking Vera's hand, "told me a lot of things she knew about him. I guess when it all happened my mother hadn't told most of her friends she was pregnant. I thought my step-dad was my real father."

Josh told her the story of the 1st Air Cavalry and the battle of the IA Drang Valley in 1965 during the Vietnam War.   

"Your father survived something which haunted him for his whole life. Like many soldiers, he was vilified when he returned from Vietnam. No one cared what happened to him. We cannot even guess how it affected his life. However, we do know this; he was innocent of those crimes. We can at least prove that. Keira has the motion ready to file," Josh looked around the room, and then said. "But, there is one thing I need from you."

"What?" Chris asked.

"Time," Josh answered, moving around the table. "We need time before we file the motion. In looking into this, we've stumbled upon a serious situation.” Josh closed the door to the outer office. "What I am going to say has to remain among us. Agreed?” Watching as the women, looking at each other.

"Chris knows most of this," reaching for his coffee, he took a long sip. "Someone tried to kill me and they almost killed Keira instead. She was driving my truck when they went after her. We were lucky, this time. We don't know if they'll try again. We do know this all began when I started poking around this case."

"I don't want anyone hurt over this," Loren said. "I'm happy with what you've found, just let it go."

"Hah," Chris laughed. "There's no way he's gonna let this go now. He's gonna follow this no matter what, aren't you, Ace? There's more to this he's not telling us."

Josh smiled, nodding his head. "Let's just say we found some new activity, involving some of the same people who framed your father. We may not be able to do anything about the past, but we may jam them up for the new stuff. I just need you to be patient. We're gonna use your father’s case to push them some more. This time, we'll be ready for them."

Loren walked over to Josh and hugged him. "Thank you, thank you for doing this. I've waited this long for the truth; I can wait a little longer."

Vera took her niece back to the outer office, leaving Josh with Chris and Maggie.

"Okay, what's the rest of it?" Maggie asked. "Since I called one of the connected numbers, I think you owe us the full story."

Josh explained the connections between Tucker, his daughter, Sorin, the Russians, and the Senator.

Maggie and Chris listened, hanging on every word.   

"You know, I always believed he was a son-of-a-bitch," Maggie said, "but this is even worse than I could imagine. If I was ever unsure about leaving the US Attorney's office, this eliminated all doubt."

Chris took a drink of coffee and added, "So, how we gonna nail this motherfucker?"

BOOK: Silenced Justice: A Josh Williams Novel
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

When Marrying a Scoundrel by Kathryn Smith
The Folks at Fifty-Eight by Clark, Michael Patrick
From The Holy Mountain by William Dalrymple
Eden by David Holley
Death Message by Mark Billingham
Arsonist by Victor Methos
Comedy of Erinn by Bonaduce, Celia