White Collar Blackmail: White Collar Crime Financial Suspense Thriller (26 page)

Chapter 51

Karen Deacon pushed herself back in the recliner as the makeup artist did some final touchups. The lights above her were hot and uncomfortable but looking at Libby Mansfield, sitting opposite, you would have never guessed it. She was cool, calm and in control.

One of the production staff shouted, “Ten, nine, eight…we’re on.”

“Tonight we’re going to bring you a tragic story of infidelity, lust, blackmail and the apparent suicide of one of the nation’s greatest young sportsman. With me is Karen Deacon, wife of Cougars coach Tom Deacon who entered into an illicit affair with Devlin Cooper, an affair that led to his death,” Libby said. “Karen Deacon, why don’t you tell us how the affair got started?”

“There had always been a mutual attraction,” Karen said. “One day we bumped into each other in the city, and I gave Devlin a lift home.”

“And that’s when the affair started?”

“No. All we did was kiss, but it sowed the seeds for the future.”

“You must have realized that no good could come of it. You were a married woman with three children, nearly fourteen years older than Devlin. Why didn’t you just stop it before it got started?”

“I didn’t see him for another three months. Like me, he too knew that it was wrong, and we purposely avoided each other.”

“What happened?”

“He came to my home to pick some documents up.”

“And that’s when it started?”

“Yes.”

“And it continued for nearly a year?”

“Yes.”

“Mainly at seedy out of the way motels?’’

“Yes.”

“Then what happened?”

“Someone videotaped us and began blackmailing Devlin.”

“How did they blackmail him?”

“They wanted him to lose games and said that if he didn’t they’d put the video on the internet,” Karen said dabbing a tear away.

“That’s why he threw so badly in the Pirates game?”

“Yes.”

“But that wasn’t enough for them?”

“No. They wanted him to tank in the playoffs. That’s the reason he took his life.”

“But you can’t be sure of that. He never told you that he was contemplating suicide, did he? It could have been an accident?”

“No. He never said anything but I know. I just know.”

“Then what happened?”

“They contacted me on numerous occasions saying that if I wanted to stop the CD from being shown I’d have to pay them five million dollars.”

“Let’s backtrack,” Libby said. “Did you love Devlin?”

Karen put her hand under her chin and took a long time to answer. “Yes,” she said, “and I think he loved me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“After the blackmailing started he offered to move in with me, to help bring up my kids. He said that if we were living together it would take a lot of the heat out of the CD.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him he was too young and that both our families would be terribly upset. I regret saying that now. Maybe if I hadn’t, he’d still be here now.”

“So was your relationship founded on love?”

“I like to say yes, but that would be a lie. It began because of lust and physical attraction. The love came after.”

“What’s on the CD?”

Again Karen paused. “Everything that consenting adults do in private.”

“Nothing kinky?”

“No, but not anything you’d want the world to see.”

“Had you ever been unfaithful to your husband before?”

“No.”

“Why should we believe you?” Libby asked staring over the top of her spectacles.

“Because I’ve never been drawn to another man like I was to Devlin. I was weak. I couldn’t fight the attraction.”

“Why didn’t he go to the police when the blackmailers first contacted him?”

“There were many reasons.” Karen sighed. “The shame he felt he’d brought upon his family. His concern for me and my children. His worries about his career.”

“That wasn’t all, though, was it?”

“No. The blackmailers told him that they owned the Chicago PD, and he believed them. There was nowhere to go.”

“Is that why you went to the FBI?”

“I didn’t go−,” Karen said and then stopped. “Well, yes there was no one else to turn to.”

“And they’ve already caught one of the blackmailers?”

“Yes, I identified his voice. I’ll never forget it.” Karen grimaced.

“We have to go to a station break,” Libby said. “We’ll be right back.”

Chas Grinich thought that Karen was a pretty gutsy woman who’d handled some tough questioning extremely well. He hadn’t told her that her identification of Vaughan’s voice wouldn’t stand up in court. Vaughan’s lawyers were the best money could buy, and they’d find half a dozen men with voices near identical to him and Karen wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. Vaughan was a tough customer and hadn’t admitted anything. Unfortunately, he would be released in the morning.

Todd Hansen watched the interview in astonishment. Karen Deacon was obviously the Mrs. Deacon whom Elliot had been trying to heavy.

Dermott Becker cracked his knuckles hard as he watched Karen answer her interrogator’s questions. She came across as being honest, truthful and remorseful, and Becker reasoned that the consensus would be sympathetic to her and furious with the blackmailers. There wasn’t enough evidence to hold or charge Vaughan, but the Fibbies would know that Borchard was behind it, and they’d be closely watching him. The key to Vulture’s success was that it was unobtrusive and low key. That was starting to unravel, and Becker was far from happy.

Borchard watched and recorded the interview in silent fury. If only Dirk hadn’t pushed Devlin Cooper over the edge, they would have never had to deal with the Deacon woman. One part of the interview particularly caught his attention when the interviewer asked her about going to the FBI, and she had said
I didn’t go
and then changed her answer. It looked to Borchard like she had been going to say
I didn’t go to the FBI,
and if that was the case, it meant someone had leaked. The FBI had undoubtedly tracked Dirk through the woman’s cell phone but why had the warrant been to search for drugs?

Chapter 52

Todd was more on edge than ever now that he knew what McEvoy was capable of. He told Elliot that he was never debt collecting again and if that meant losing his job and apartment, then too bad. Elliot hadn’t objected. Instead, he had broken out in raucous laughter. Todd wondered whether McEvoy’s little performance had been to scare him about what might happen if he crossed them. If so, it had worked. Todd was very nervous.

In nearly two weeks, Todd had not had one opportunity to switch the cell phones. Elliot had only left his office unattended on one occasion for about thirty minutes, but McEvoy had been skulking around, and Todd had been too scared to retrieve the hidden cell phone. The opening, when it came, was totally unexpected. Todd was just about to go to lunch when two of the gang got into a noisy fight in the bar over a game of pool. Elliot bounded out of his office, and Todd immediately followed him down the stairs bypassing the bar. He quickly retrieved the cell phone from the store and scampered back up the stairs. On the way back he saw Elliot, in the bar, with McEvoy next to him, reading the riot act to the two protagonists. Todd looked around the corridor before entering Elliot’s office and making the switch. He paused to turn Elliot’s phone off, and then took off downstairs to the store again. It had taken less than three minutes but for Todd it seemed like hours. After making sure, there was no loose masking tape lying around he made his way back to his office. Elliot’s booming voice was still echoing around the bar. Todd got back to his office and set up a date to see Vanessa for dinner that night. He thought that with a little luck, Elliot may not even try to use the phone for the rest of the day.

It was late in the afternoon when Elliot shouted, “What’s wrong with this bloody phone. Todd, come in here.”

“What’s up?”

“My phone won’t work. See if you can fix it?”

“You’ve got another four phones. Why don’t you use one of them?”

“I need this one,” Elliot replied.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It lets me logon, but after that I get squiggly lines. Look,” Elliot said, prodding the screen with his forefinger.

“I’ll take the battery out and reinsert it. Sometimes that works. What’s your password?”

“Give it to me,” Elliot said and entered his password. “Shit, there’s still squiggly lines! What other ideas do you have, genius?”

“I’ll try taking out and reinserting the SIM card. That might work.”

As Todd reinserted the tiny card, Elliot, who’d been watching closely, grabbed the phone. “A lot of fucking help you are.”

“There’s a shop on the corner of Mount that sells and fixes phones,” Todd said. “Do you want me to take it down there?”

Elliot looked at Todd slyly before saying, “Nah, don’t worry about it, I’ll get Jed to take care of it.”

As the partners of Montgomery Hastings & Pierce filed into the conference room it was evident they already knew the outcome of the preliminary investigation into the audit of The Disabled Children’s Fund. The mood in the room was somber as the committee of four delivered their findings. At least nine million had been misappropriated from the fund and applied to the mayor’s reelection campaign. Worse, the young auditor who had been questioning the Fund’s employees had suspected defalcation, and it was only Phillip Cromwell’s intervention that had circumvented her.

Sandra Bishop asked, “Are you saying that had this line of audit been pursued we would probably not be in this position?”

“Yes,” replied one of the committee members.

“Do we know who the trustees are going to sue?” Lechte asked.

“No, but clearly the fund manager and its directors,” the committee member said.

“They’ll sue us, too,” Lechte said. “I’ll talk to our PI insurers. It’s in our interests to settle as fast as we can. The publicity of a long drawn out civil action can only be detrimental. That’s the last thing we need.”

Phillip Cromwell took his hands from behind his head and looked defiantly around the room. “As managing partner I think I’m best placed to handle negotiations with the trustee. I certainly don’t believe we should settle.”

“Phillip, you’re managing partner in name alone,” Sandra Bishop retorted. “You got us into this mess, and you’re not going to make it worse than it already is.”

“For someone’s who’s resigned the partnership and won’t be here in two months you have an awful lot to say,” Cromwell said.

Sandra ignored Cromwell and instead said, “Can I have a show of hands of all of those who would like Phillip to handle negotiations with the trustee and our insurers.”

Even Cromwell’s closest supporters hung their heads, and not a hand went up.

“It would not be a good look for our clients and the media if it appeared that Phillip was no longer managing partner,” Sandra said. “However, internally Doug will continue to assume that role until the matter with The Disabled Children’s Fund is resolved.”

Cromwell glowered but knew it was pointless saying anything. Doug Lechte wasn’t happy either. He hated managing the firm, listening to the other partners’ gripes, holding them accountable and taking responsibility for decisions they should be making. He was always short of time, his meetings with the government officials were starting to take their toll and he was having sleepless nights worrying about Vanessa. He regretted getting her involved and knew that if Todd was detected things could go very badly for her.

Todd shivered and dug his hands deep into his overcoat pockets while he waited at the front of Botticelli’s. It was an inexpensive busy Italian restaurant only two blocks from Vanessa’s apartment. The cab pulled up, and Todd held the door open and as Vanessa got out, he put his arm tightly around her.

“Sorry I’m late. I got held up at work with Doug,” she said, kissing him lightly on the lips.

They waited a few minutes before being shown to a small table set against the wall that afforded them privacy.

“This is very cozy.” Todd grinned, as their feet touched under the table.

Surprisingly Vanessa did not return his smile and instead put her hand to her mouth and said, “Doug’s worried about me. He said it’s taking longer than he thought and that my involvement’s very dangerous. He suggested I back out while I still can.”

“He’s right. I’ve been thinking the same.”

“But then you won’t be able to pass messages on.”

“I’ll find a way. I can always do it every second Sunday on my way to visit Arturo. They never follow me on those days.”

“What if something urgent comes up like today?” Vanessa asked.

“I don’t know,” Todd replied without confidence. “I’ll find a way.”

“I told him that I appreciated his concern, but I was going to keep seeing you.” Vanessa smiled. “I’ve grown fond of you, Todd Hansen, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. We’re in this together.”

Todd felt his heart start to pound. He hadn’t expected that response, and as he stared into Vanessa’s deep brown eyes, he was overcome with emotion.

“Me too,” he said, “but that’s all the more reason for you to cease your involvement. We can stage a breakup argument, and you’ll be in the clear. If you still feel the same way after we can pick up where we left off.”

An overworked waiter interrupted the conversation to take their orders for spaghetti Bolognese and risotto marinara.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? We’re in this together. The faster we put these crooks away the safer we’ll be.”

“Bu−”

“No buts.”

Twenty minutes later, as they were leaving the restaurant, Vanessa took a tissue from her bag and carefully wiped a small spot of Bolognese sauce from Todd’s shirt. He fought back an overwhelming desire to kiss her. If anything the weather had become more bitter, and as they hurried to her apartment she said, “What messages do you have for me?”

“None,” Todd said, slipping his hand into her coat pocket. “I got the cell phone that Grinich is so desperate to get. I just put it in your pocket. I’m staying at your place tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll be on the sofa.”

“I know what you’re doing. You’re sweet,” Vanessa replied, squeezing his hand.

As she opened the door to her apartment, Todd swung her around and kissed her passionately. “I’ve been dying to do that.”

“Don’t worry about the sofa,” she whispered, “but you have to be quiet. I don’t think the apartment’s bugged, but I’d hate for them to be listening.”

Todd had dreamed of this night and as Vanessa turned the bedside light off he drew her to him. Her lips were warm and moist, and her tongue darted inside his mouth as he fought to control his breathing. She ran her hands up and down his chest while he gently fondled her breasts. He felt her tremble with pleasure, and he slowly moved his hand to her thigh and began exploring. He had read all the books about great lovers and how gentle they were, so he was surprised when, with a sense of urgency, she whispered, “Honey, I’m not made of glass.”

It had been years since she had been with a man, and she was eager, excited, and sick of waiting. Todd didn’t need to be told twice, and he was almost out of control with desire. Sixty seconds later he let out an almighty yell and Vanessa half whispered, half giggled, “I told you no noise.”