LIES OF THE PHOENIX (A Lieutenant Cassidy Mystery Book 1) (16 page)

“Listen to Ben,” Cassidy advised. “He knows what he is talking about and he will make the right decisions for your safety. These L.A. associates of Jordan Lawrence are dangerous. You need to keep out of the way for a while and let us do our job.”

Ben reentered the cubicle, “The nurse is coming in to have you sign discharge papers and to give you follow-up instruction. Once that’s done, she said we can leave.”

Cassidy turned to Nora, “I’d like you to go to that corporate apartment and collect Sarah’s things. I don’t want her going back there. Someone may be watching the building so stay alert. Be careful that you aren’t followed. Take her things to Ben’s apartment and check it out—entrances, exits, security, that type of thing. I want one of us to be familiar with the layout.”

“Sure, no problem,” Nora responded.

Sarah’s purse had made it into the ambulance and she sorted through the pockets to find the corporate apartment key. She handed it to Nora. “I’ll call the doorman and tell him you’ll be coming. His name is Stan.” Escaping into the mundane she said, “While you’re there, could you throw out anything I left in the refrigerator?”

Ben stifled a laugh, “Really? You just had your life threatened by a professional killer and you are worried about food spoiling in the fridge?”

Sarah shot back, “Except for the fact that you just moved in today, I bet if I looked in your fridge I would find a regular petri dish of fungi and petrified food!”

Ah, that’s better,
Ben thought.
She’s going to be O.K.
“Alright, I surrender. Since you’ll be staying with me, you can police the fridge to your heart’s content. Right now it’s empty.”

Cassidy studied Sarah. She was responding like a typical victim—focusing on small details because the whole picture was too overwhelming to comprehend right now. She would be O.K. once she was able put some distance and time between her and today’s events. A change of environment would do her good and she would be in capable hands with Ben.

The nurse entered the room and took care of the discharge details.

“I’m going to drive you to Ben’s apartment,” Cassidy told them. “But I want you both to stay in for the rest of the evening.”

“No problem. We can order something to eat and have it delivered to the front desk in my building.” Ben agreed. “I think Sarah could use a quiet evening.”

“I don’t much feel like going out anywhere looking like this anyway,” Sarah said.

Ben looked closely at her bruised face. Bluish purple rings now circled both her eyes and the color spread across her swollen nose. Her face had been smashed against the wall of the elevator with vicious force several times and the swelling and bruising was now becoming more evident despite the ice pack she was holding against her face. She had a small cut in her brow line above her right eye and her right eye had swollen to a puffy slit. She looked like she had just stepped out of a boxing ring and had been on the losing side.

Ben searched for something supportive to say. “We’ll keep ice on it. You’ll see, the swelling should go down quite a bit by tomorrow.”

She smiled weakly, “Thanks, but that isn’t going to help the rainbow spreading across my face. I am going to look pretty scary until this starts to fade and that’s going to take days.”

“Well, my new place is pretty nice. You can think of it as a spa where you can hideout until you are fit for public appearance again,” Ben joked.

Sarah didn’t answer. She just punched him sharply in the arm.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“That was for agreeing with me.”

When the discharge procedures were completed they all left the Emergency Room together. Nora took off in the direction of a waiting squad car and Cassidy led the way to his police sedan. Ben gave directions to his new apartment and Cassidy wove through the city streets with the skill of an experienced taxi driver taking short cuts and avoiding all the traffic gridlocked areas. They arrived in front of a plush apartment building with a purple canopy arching over the entrance and extending over the sidewalk almost to the curb.

As they pulled up to the curb, Edmond, the doorman rushed out from the building and opened the door to the unmarked police sedan. A uniformed security guard could be seen standing just inside the building guarding the door. Ben and Nora exited the vehicle. Cassidy watched as they made their way to the door. He scanned up and down the street looking for anyone that may be watching, but saw no one.

He had been particularly careful driving to the apartment and was sure they had not been followed.
They should be safe here,
he thought.
Ben will know how to handle things if there is any trouble.
He knew that the threat to Sarah was increasing as the crime organization became more desperate to obtain the investment data that Jordan Lawrence had stolen. He was glad to have someone with police experience keeping an eye on Sarah.

The lobby to the building was generously proportioned and gorgeous. The floor was highly polished terrazzo with inlaid patterns and the walls were dark oak with intricate carvings and moldings. Elegant upholstered furniture provided seating for waiting guests and the lobby was accented with unique tables, decorative lamps, mirrors, and exotic looking plants. The décor announced in no uncertain terms that this was an abode for the elite.

Sarah was a little surprised at the plush classical finishes. Ben seemed so down to earth and uncomplicated. This place spoke to sophistication and elegance.

They walked across the lobby and were greeted by a uniformed security guard standing by the elevator. Ben ushered her into the elevator and placed a key into the lock on the elevator panel labeled “Penthouse.”

“Penthouse! You’ve got to be kidding me. I thought you were just a former police officer who did some freelance writing!”

“That’s true—partly. I told you I wrote a couple of books. Several as a matter of fact. They’ve done quite well. I finally decided to put some of the money they have produced to good use. As a result— my new digs!”

The elevator door opened into a large tastefully decorated private hallway that served as an anteroom to Ben’s apartment. They exited the elevator and walked across the wide hall to a double door. Ben punched in a security code and the double doors swung open to reveal his apartment. Sarah’s jaw dropped causing a wave of pain to ripple across her bruised face.

“This is not at all what I was expecting,” she said.

T
HE MOTEL WAS
an old Mom & Pop establishment on the outskirts of Chicago—exterior ground floor entrances to every room and parking immediately in front of each unit. He selected this place because no one would ask questions or take notice of his comings and goings as long as he paid in advance. The clientele was as seedy as the rest of the environment, meaning no one was likely to meddle in his business for fear of reprisal. The registration clerk never asked any questions and never requested any identification. Once the room was paid for in cash, the clerk was more than glad to hand over the keys and turn a blind eye to everything else.

He parked the car a long distance away from his rental unit. The drab older car was just what he needed to blend in with the grubby fabric of the neighborhood. He left his bag of clothes in the car and took only his computer into the room. The hotel room was just for sleeping and showering. He was doing neither right now.

He looked casually around the dark parking lot and saw no one. The lights that were supposed to illuminate the lot had all been broken out, probably by neighborhood kids using them for target practice. He cut across the darkened lot and walked along the row of unit doors until he reached his rental unit. He unlocked the door and ducked in quickly. The room was sparsely furnished with shabby furniture, but was clean. That was all he needed.

The motel had free internet, but he ignored it. Instead, he hacked into a local business’s network. He sat on the bed with his laptop propped open on his lap. Negotiations through an encrypted website on the deep web were still going on. Bidding had skyrocketed beyond anything he had anticipated. Two Asian entities had recently shown particular interest and had pushed the price to astronomical figures. The adrenalin rush from the bidding was exciting. It was like a drug and he was addicted.

The journey to this point had been long and calculated. In his past life in L.A., he was the
go-to
guy at his investment firm. The portfolios of stock that he put together were always the most profitable and he had an uncanny sense of when to buy and sell for the greatest profit. The only problem was that his bosses considered that level of excellence to be an expectation of his job. They told him if he wasn’t good, he wouldn’t have been hired. He, on the other hand, felt that his expertise should be financially rewarded. After several years of lavish praise coupled with anemic pay raises and equally pathetic bonuses, he decided it was time to take his destiny into his own hands.

He devised a two prong plan that would provide him with operating capital and a financial bonanza that would more than compensate for all his hard work. The scheme had taken two years of patience and persistence, but it had worked flawlessly. He was sure his prior employer even now had no idea that accounts had been compromised or that money had been embezzled.

He had meticulously planned every detail including lining up a convenient local buyer, the Los Angeles Potestas crime syndicate. He had chosen a local buyer specifically for quick and easy disposal of his stolen accounts data and equally fast payment for his efforts.

The Potestas crime syndicate had built their criminal organization on deceit and foul play. They never paid for anything that could be acquired through threat or bruit force. From the inception, he knew the syndicate would not allow anyone to remain alive that could be tracked back to the criminal organization. The only way to survive a transaction with this organization was to disappear. That was his intention all along.

Jordan devised an intricate plan to receive automatic payment from the syndicate through an off shore account after delivery of the stolen data. There would be no face-to-face exchange. However, as the deal unfolded, his criminal partners wanted increasing control and a larger share of the profits. They backed their escalating demands with repetitive threats of violence.

Lloyd Nash, as he was known in Los Angeles, was never one to be bested in a deal. He saw his criminal partners’ deceit more as a challenge than a threat. The attempts at intimidation never worried him very much. He acknowledged that violence was likely his partners’ first choice of action, but he knew that he was up to the challenge.

Quick and convenient disposal of the stolen account data had made local sale in Los Angeles attractive, but he always knew he could do better dealing on the international market. When it became obvious that arrangements with the Los Angeles criminal organization that he had selected were not going to work out, he revised his master plan. The risk of exposure was greater and the time line for negotiations would be extended, but on the world black market he could negotiate with businessmen who understood finance and money. They would pay a fair market price and he would not have to deal with a bunch of thugs threatening bodily injury and death every other day.

It was easy enough to erase himself from his life in Los Angeles and to escape the local crime organization’s net. He was careful and had left no tracks that could be followed. He resurfaced in Chicago as Jordan Lawrence and faded into the urban environment with a new life, a new wife, and a plan to look for a more sophisticated buyer on the world market when things cooled down. Once this international deal was completed, he would reestablish himself in a new location with another new identity. The idea of reinventing himself again gave him a rush of excitement even now as he thought about it.

He felt a slight pang of remorse for abandoning Amanda in Los Angeles. After all, they had been together for several years. Sarah, on the other hand, was just a blip on his radar. A few months of playing house with an attractive attentive woman just added to the excitement and gave his Jordan Lawrence identity instant credibility.

Sarah had been easy to manipulate. A little flattery and silly tokens of affection were all that it took. She was coming off a bad relationship and was ripe for the picking. He wouldn’t want to see her hurt, but he had no other emotional attachments.
In a few months she’ll put our little episode behind her and move on with her life
, he told himself.

Kyle Mason had been one glitch that he had not fully anticipated. Kyle had stumbled upon the data theft when he was assigned to go over old dormant investment accounts at the L.A. firm that employed them both. The archived accounts showed unusual recent access. It was a backdoor into current big investors’ accounts data. Kyle was able to trace the access back to current files and figured out that there had been a recent download of a huge amount of active account data. Using a little intuition, it didn’t take him long to tie that access and download back to Lloyd Nash.

Kyle knew that the account data was worth a fortune and that Lloyd Nash was the biggest risk taker and producer in the company. If anyone could pull off a deal selling pilfered information, it would be Nash. Kyle saw his chance and wanted to be cut in on the profits. He threatened to expose Nash if he wasn’t included.

Nash saw Kyle as a boring drone. Kyle had arguably good financial acumen, but he was sorely lacking in the skills, guts, and the creativity necessary to play with the big boys. It was easy enough to dash Kyle’s hopes and maybe save his life. In blunt terms he told Kyle that this was a criminal enterprise and that any perceived threat to the plan would not be tolerated by the partners— it would be eliminated. Kyle got the message and withdrew his demands.

Although neutralized, Nash thought it best to have Kyle as a willing ally rather than a defeated nervous enemy. He offered Kyle a small financial consolation for his silence and promised him a second larger payment, out of his own pocket, after the transaction was successfully concluded with his criminal partners. Nash explained that this would be an agreement just between friends, and it would keep Kyle safe from syndicate retribution. Kyle agreed immediately. He thought he had bested Nash after all.

Kyle was now a paid accomplice and his silence was assured. Talk was cheap, however, and Nash had no intention of fulfilling the terms of their agreement. He needed Kyle to step back and not cause any complications and this arrangement worked for the present.

When the criminal syndicate tightened their grip and tried to take control of Nash’s carefully planned enterprise, Nash set his back-up plan into motion. He disappeared from his life in L.A. and resurfaced in Chicago with his new identity as Jordan Lawrence. He thought Kyle was gone forever.

Kyle, however, was smart enough to realize that Nash’s sudden disappearance meant that he was looking to the international market for a new buyer, and further, that the potential payout would far exceed anything offered in Los Angeles.

Nash’s disappearance infuriated his L.A. criminal partners. Their search for him uncovered Kyle and Kyle saw his chance to enter the big leagues. He convinced the criminal bosses that he had financial expertise on par with Nash’s. Kyle had to admit, however, that he did not have the broad access to account data that Nash had and that he could not replicate the stolen data. Nevertheless for a price, Kyle told them he could use his expertise in finance and investment to track Nash down. Kyle was surprised at how quickly the syndicate agreed to his plan.

In reality, the L.A. organization saw Kyle as a risk that needed to be eliminated, but they were willing to wait a bit to see if he actually could be of value in locating Nash. At worse, they would be out a few dollars. It was a gamble that they were willing to take.

An advance payment to cover expenses and a small cash incentive was given to Kyle with a promise to pay the remainder once the stolen data were delivered into the syndicate’s hands. Kyle closed the deal feeling very smug. The Potestas syndicate would fund his search for Nash, and then he would abandon them to cash in on the international deal that he was sure Nash was arranging.

With a few leaps of intuition Kyle tracked Nash to Chicago. He demanded that Nash turn over half of the proceeds from the international sale or face exposure to the syndicate and to the police. In return, he offered to keep the syndicate at bay with a stream of false information until the deal was complete.

Kyle thought himself quite the entrepreneur. He had the original hush money Nash had given him; he had the money from the L.A. crime syndicate paying his expenses and a portion of his finder’s fee, and he had the promise of his share of the financial bonanza that Nash was certain to arrange.

Kyle bought time with the L.A. syndicate by telling them that he had tracked Nash to Chicago, but hadn’t located him yet. Later, he informed them that he had discovered Nash’s new
Jordan Lawrence
identity, but played to their paranoia suggesting that Nash may destroy the data if they resorted to threats of violence to recover it. Kyle proposed that it would be safer for him to retrieve the account data, but it would take some time to win Nash’s confidence.

Nash, in his new identity as Jordan Lawrence, saw Kyle as an annoyance, but one that needed to be dealt with. He agreed to Kyle’s latest fifty/fifty demand only to ensure that Kyle would not be a distraction during critical negotiations. He had no intention of splitting anything with Kyle and planned to deal with him after the negotiations were completed.

Kyle thought that he was in the driver’s seat for once in his life. Unfortunately, his inability to read the intentions of the syndicate became apparent when Vladimir Zykov was sent to Chicago and was killed by Jordan. The syndicate had lost faith in Kyle’s plan and were taking things into their own hands.

Kyle was in a panic. He tried to pressure Jordan into a quick sale so they could both disappear and escape the syndicate’s vengeance. Jordan marveled at Kyle’s naiveté. Kyle actually believed that he could trust the promises of the criminals with which they had been dealing. Jordan knew the syndicate would never put their faith in someone like Kyle. There would always be a back-up plan to insure that the syndicate achieved its objectives—and then there would be a clean-up plan to erase anything and anyone that could be tracked back to the organization.

The night that Zykov broke into the townhouse, Jordan knew that he was sent by the syndicate to retrieve the stolen account information and to eliminate any witnesses to the theft. Jordan had wanted to put some time between his theft of the data and its sale on the international market. Letting things settle down would mean there would be less chance of a connection to his old L.A. identity and less chance of a full blown federal investigation. The death of Zykov changed that plan and forced him into action.

The inability of the police to immediately identify Zykov worked to Jordan’s advantage. Zykov worked alone and would only report back to the crime organization after his assignment was completed. That meant that the syndicate would not know that he was dead until a bribed contact in the police department leaked the information into the criminal information network. Jordan used that time to set up an international auction on the dark web.

Once the L.A. syndicate learned of Zykov’s death, Jordan knew a new assassin would be sent to complete his assignment. He saw Zykov’s replacement on the night that Sarah went to the theater. He had returned home alone after dinner. As he drove past their street to the garage, he saw a figure on the sidewalk a few doors down from the townhouse. He swung the car into a dimly lit parking spot along the curb at the end of the street and watched for a long while. He saw the hulking figure of a man walking up and down the sidewalk looking at the houses. He appeared to be studying the doors and windows and even the basement access to the townhouse. After a while he strolled over to a parked car and drove away.