Dominant Species Volume Two -- Edge Effects (Dominant Species Series) (14 page)

10

There
were many ways to cook the books. Nancy Crawford had seen every one of them.
The most common way was to keep two set—one for the paying customers, and one
for the chef. If it came to an audit, the good, upright, detailed set should
stand close scrutiny. The second, more personal set, didn’t have to be quite
so robust. Almost anything would do. You hid the money—or the loss of it—with
the first set. The second set just kept you on top of how much you’d scammed.

This was the most ham-handed attempt at financial data
manipulation she’d ever seen, and she wondered how in the shit he hoped to get
away with it.

In order for the scam to work, someone who knew what they were
doing had to do the actual posting, the data entry, the dirty work. Someone had
to make an adjustment here and another one there, and generally keep everything
in balance. It took a certain finesse to do it well. The bullshit had to be balanced
just right on all the scales. Too much on one, and you sent up a flag; too
little on another and someone would take a closer look.

You had to temper your greed.

Nancy Crawford should know; she’d been doing it for years. She was
the high queen of fiduciary contrivance.

“Have you looked at the financials?” Ed Smith asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Your report?”

“There are some irregularities, Mr. Smith.”

Smith leaned forward just a little and one eyebrow came up a
millimeter.

He’s good.

“Well, I don’t have the exact figures yet. I’d have to query the
data warehouse to get a better view, but . . .”

“But?”

“Well, I was just wondering how much you trusted your Financial
Analysts?”

“As much as I trust anybody.”

“Even the lead, Trevor Little?”

“Very trustworthy. I’ve worked with him for years. He’s very
loyal.”

Butter wouldn’t melt in this man’s mouth.

“I see,”
Nancy said.

She did, too. Trevor Little was the one mixing the stew, adding
the salt, stirring. It had to be with Smith’s full knowledge unless Little was
transferring the skimmed money with a stolen set of transfer codes. That was practically
impossible. Smith had to be doing it. The books were cooking, and Smith had to
be controlling the kitchen.

“And?”

She’d seen the early reports. The project would expand to become
the richest in the Commonwealth in a few years. Richthaus-Alvarez and the
franchisee, Ed Smith, Ltd. would make a fortune here. If he did it right, Smith
could finagle not just a fortune, but wealth beyond imagining, perhaps
trillions. If she was going to cut herself in for some of that, she’d have to
convince Smith that she could do a better job than Little at gleaning that
wealth, a chunk at a time, out of the morass of books, ledgers and financial
records.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you, sir. But I think
the irregularities I’m speaking of are a direct result of Mr. Little’s
tampering.”

She let it sink in. Smith could have been made of stone for the
reaction he showed.

“I hate to put it so bluntly, sir,” she continued. “But I’ve had
some degree of experience in these matters. I know what I’m talking about, and
it looks like the numbers have been fudged to show more activity in certain
areas than there should be at this stage of the project. I could be wrong, but
I don’t think so.”

“What do you suggest?”

‘Well, the first thing to do is a full scale audit. That should
tell us where the adjustments have been made. We’ll have to compare each
invoice from Richthaus to the accounts payable transfers. I’m sure we’ll find a
delta in favor of costs when we look close enough. To put it simply, what it
looks like is that Mr. Little is reporting far greater costs than there
actually are and diverting the surplus funding to another account. I’m not sure
how yet.”

“I see. This is very disturbing.”

You show it, too.

“I’m sorry, sir. But this is why you brought me here.”

“Yes. You’re even more efficient than your reputation suggests.
I’m amazed that this is happening. Are you sure about all this?”

“Oh, yes.”

“There’s no doubt in your mind?”

“Very little, sir.”

She hoped he’d taken the bait. Time to set the hook.

“I could have done a much better job, sir.”

 
“I’m sorry?”

Whoops.

She chuckled.

“I just meant that I could have done a better job, if I had been
so inclined. I mean it’s not too hard to do if you know what you’re doing.”

“What isn’t?”

“Changing the books,” she said and swallowed.

“Changing the books?”

He was playing too dumb.
Way too dumb,
she thought.

She looked into Smith’s eyes and felt the ice in them touch her.
If she faltered now . . .

She took a deep breath.

“Yes. That is what we’re talking about, isn’t it? Stealing money
from Richthaus-Alvarez?”

“Stealing?”

“Yes. Diverting money from one source to another. Theft.”

“Are you saying that I’m involved in some theft?”

Careful.
“No. All I’m saying is that the way it’s being done is fairly
amateurish.”

“You’re saying you’re a better thief than Trevor Little,” he said
with a smile.

She tried but couldn’t smile back.

“Yes, I am.”

“
Yes
, you are better, or
yes,
you’re saying it?”

She swallowed. Smith had spit out the bait.

“When can you start this audit?” he said. “I’d like to settle this
matter as soon as possible.”

She sat stunned. He wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be. The audit trail
would lead right back to him, as if he had a long string tied to his butt.

She had the feeling she’d just stepped into quicksand. She twisted
around, looking for something to grab onto.

“I’m not so sure I’m the one to do it after all, Mr. Smith.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Well . . . I . . . I have some . . . another contract I’d like to
pursue that has some growth potential. I’m close to retirement, and I’d like to
speed it up just a little.”

“I see. I very sorry to hear that.”

“But I’d be happy to act as an advisor to whomever you chose to do
your audit. Most definitely.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

She nodded her head a little too eagerly, and regretted it. She
wanted to get up out of her chair, but Smith’s steely eyes seemed to fix her in
place.

“Think nothing of it.”

It was Smith’s turn to talk, but he just stared. She felt a
tightening in her chest and felt herself sinking deeper.

“Well, I guess our business here is done,” he said finally.

“Yes.”

“Thank you for coming and for your excellent report. I’ll
have my assistant escort you back to the transport.
It should be leaving within the hour if I’m not mistaken.”

“I’m sure I can find my way back.”

“No. I insist.”

He pressed the intercom.

“Yes, sir?” the man’s voice said.

“James, can you please escort Miss Crawford back to the transport?
I’m finished.”

“Yes, sir.”

James was a good-looking young man, and his pleasant demeanor put
her at ease.

She extended her hand to Smith, and he took it. The grip was firm
and dry. She wished hers had been the same.

“Have a safe trip. I’ll have your contract paid down with a bonus
for your good work in this matter. You’ve been very helpful. Thank you very
much.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

The passageway from the Manager’s office was narrow, causing her
to have to walk almost behind James instead of next to him. She picked up an
odd flowery scent from him that she found distasteful.

“I take it your trip was a profitable one?” he asked over his
shoulder.

“Yes. Somewhat . . . I . . .”

Something caught his eye.

“Oh, my. Are those real? They look real.”

“These?” she said, reaching for the string of pearls around her
neck.

“Yes. They’ve been in my family for hundreds of years.”

“May I?” he asked, reaching out.

“Oh, sure . . .” she said letting him touch them. His fingers felt
cold and light as they brushed over her skin.

“You’re very lucky.”

“I suppose so.”

“What are they worth, do you think? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“They’re the only real heirloom in my family that I know of. My
younger sister will get them next. I can’t tell you what they’re worth.”

“They’re lovely.”

“Thank you.”

They walked through the orbiter turning first one way then
another, past offices and workstations until she was totally lost.

“My, I don’t think I would have found my way.”

“No. It’s fairly complex. We’re almost there.”

They left an office area and went down another corridor that
seemed even smaller and darker than the others. It didn’t look at all familiar.
A tight feeling came into her chest.

They went a little further, walking past barrels and shipping
containers stacked in the passageway. This wasn’t right. “Where are we?”

“We’re taking a short cut,” James said happily.

“A short cut?”

“Yes. Almost there.”

This wasn’t right. She had the sudden urge to run.

She sensed someone behind her and glanced over her shoulder.
Another young man was following some distance behind them.

This isn’t happening.

“Where are we going?” she asked hopefully.

“I told you. A short cut.”

She stopped.

“I’d like to go another way.”

Her mouth was so dry it barely worked.

James laughed.

“This is the only way.”

The man behind her came up to within a few feet of her and
stopped. She looked at him and saw in his eyes the same iciness she’d seen in
Smith’s. The man took something out of his pocket and held it to his nose. She
heard him breathe deeply. His face suddenly changed from stony to strangely
lascivious. He grinned like a wolf at her.

“What are you doing?” she asked weakly.

“Taking care of you,” James said behind her.