CHAPTER 16
SHOTS FIRED
Jack was running the third money switch at the casino. He arrived during the lunch rush to gain the most cover in the crowds and he was all but invisible. He “bought” a thousand dollars worth of chips from one cashier, wandered aimlessly around pretending to look for a table to play and then cashed out his chips at another cashier. Each time he requested hundred dollar bills, and each time he found a new coffee shop or bar to examine the bills in quiet. In three rounds of exchange he was pretty sure he had three bills that were fraudulent. He was finished exchanging but he was in a good position to watch the hallway that was posted ‘Employees Only’ so he just sipped more coffee and paid covert attention to see if he could spot anything abnormal. It was time to call the captain.
Jack updated Captain Bronson with the details about the bad bills he had in his possession and was surprised to find the captain unconcerned. Jack was confused.
“But sir,” Jack retorted, remaining as formal as necessary to wheedle as much as he could out of the captain. “The bad money confirms the existence of counterfeiting. We need to get the FBI involved.”
“Hold your horses, Jack. After I got the phone message you left last night I started the entire team researching the Watonaka Casino and the Davies and Wix connection.” Jack calmed down to listen to the story, relieved that the captain at least acted on his information. “The team has dug into tax records, property records, registrations, licenses and bank records and has some rather entangling information.
“There is another player that came up in the records, a Walter Carter, that shares ownership of the casino with Davies and Wix. We looked into gaming requirements and the only justification for the existence of the casino is that it must be owned by the Indians and have relevance to reservation land.” He paused, Jack did not respond because something was bothering him, so Bronson continued “The registrations filed before the casino was built state that Walter Carter is partially Indian blood, and his heritage is associated with the Watonaka tribe. The thing is, the Watonaka tribe does not exist and there is no record in the Bureau of Indian Affairs.”
“Okay,” Jack interjected “So the casino might be a fraud, what about the bad money?”
“I’ll get to that. Let me fill you in on the rest of the story” Bronson responded. His delivery was getting more excited, hinting to Jack that the story could be quite deep.
“All of the registrations and declarations were filed by Davies and Wix to create the Watonaka tribe. Then, they developed a bare plot of useless land into a multi-million dollar casino using this Walter Carter as the legal figurehead and they established themselves as the operators of record. They are like contractors paid to manage the entire operation.
“Walter Carter secured a large construction loan, facilitated by Davies and Wix, and he does show up prominently as the owner of record, but the operations contract stipulates he receive profits after the operations costs have been satisfied. The operators of record are Davies and Wix, so he has to get his money from Davies and Wix.” Bronson paused to take a breath and left an opening for Jack.
“Well cap, it looks like a problem for the Indian Affairs or the Gaming Commission, not us. We could just throw in the bad bills and toss them the whole thing.” Jack was seeing the end of his investigative romp except something still bothered him and he wanted t make sure. “You're not saying this is the end are you Captain?”
“No, we’re not quite done” the captain continued. “A casino of that size should take in about million dollars a week and net 20% or so after expenses. The tax records for all of them and the corporate disclosure documents indicate the casino is barely breaking even. There is no profit and Mr. Carter is getting nothing. Now it gets good” Bronson was sounding like an excited schoolboy and Jack’s interest was piqued.
“Walter Carter has a balloon payment due on the note used to build the casino and the bank is worried he will default. They can’t foreclose and take it back because of the Indian ownership requirement. They can’t own it, all they could do is take it over and close it down” Bronson paused to gather his thoughts. Jack was barely keeping the thread of the story but was amazed the computer geeks had gotten so much information in only half a day. In his era, this would have taken weeks or months.
“Davies and Wix have a huge mall project going upstate that is being financed by a confidential investor that provides a million dollars every month or two. It is enough to keep the construction going at an even pace and matches the skim coming from the casino. So far we have fraud, money laundering and tax evasion and those are all on our list.”
Jack’s head was swimming with the basket of snakes that had just been opened. He could see now that the counterfeit money was almost irrelevant, but just then, an inspiration hit him. “That's it, the Bills! I’ve got a few of the bad bills so they are still circulating at the casino.” Now Jack was the excited schoolboy, “Those bills that were mailed to the office came in an envelope from the Casino and the letterhead on the page inside had Carter's name” They both went silent for a few heartbeats, thinking.
It was Bronson that broke the silence, “There's another player. Carter would never send us bills that came out his own casino.”
“He didn't know, he doesn't know” Jack said softly. “Somebody used his stationary and a casino envelope. There's an insider.”
“Yeah, so what?” the captain snorted. “The counterfeit money is most assuredly an unfortunate coincidence for somebody. We will address the casino first and then if there is still a trail to follow, turn the money problem over to the Secret Service afterward so they won’t disturb our investigation.”
“No captain, that’s not what I mean” Jack said. “We can use the counterfeit bills to track the cash flow out of the casino. The bricks I saw being delivered by the bakery truck are most certainly the cash going out the back door, literally. That money has to get laundered somehow and delivered to the mall project as if it were coming from the confidential investor.” The phone went quiet while the captain pondered Jack’s new view point. They were pretty sure they had the right of it but they did not know for sure how the money actually got to the mall project.
“You might be on to something there,” the captain responded. “What do you have in mind?”
“Here’s what we need to do, captain” Jack answered and proceeded to lay out his plan. “And I'll need full retired cop credentials, you know, good conduct, retirement dates and a short job history of security work.”
At just that moment, Wheeler popped his head up nearly smashing it on the frame of the manure spreader he was working on at Bob’s shop, and looked around like a ground hog checking for shadows. Bob didn’t notice as Wheeler’s scan slowed down and he was able to process the feeling that had alerted him. There was a disturbance Wheeler had just perceived that was a bit different than the avalanche he had been tracking. It was similar but the approach angle was from a new quadrant. Wheeler sensed its approach and its character, noting obvious differences but also similarities in strength, and this was a big one.
Wheeler didn’t realize he was staring out into space as Bob said “Hey Wheeler, earth to Wheeler. Are you in there?”
Wheeler grinned and replied “Oh yeah, I guess I just zoned out. Something distracted me. Got any coffee left?” He tried to sidetrack Bob but Bob would not let it go.
Bob poured coffee for them and joined Wheeler at the table, “So what’s got your feathers all fluffed? You don’t pop your head up like that because you forgot to torque a bolt, what gives?”
Wheeler sighed, realizing he could not hide from Bob, and said “Well, our little scheme is gaining traction. There is a new player in the game and he’s a big one.” Wheeler stopped to sip and Bob looked at him intently peering over the edge of his own cup.
“Can you tell which team they’re on or is this a new team?”
“From the feel, I think it’s a new team. Not a new set of locals
, but an old set of outsiders that are not from around here. They have done this before and they’re slick.” Wheeler didn’t realize the significance of this until he said it. He retreated into connect-the-dots mode and Bob tried to put the information into some order as well. They both made it make sense at the same time and looked at each other.
Bob spoke first “Do you think it’s the cops or even the Feds?”
Wheeler hesitated, looking pensive “It almost has to be. I don’t know which one, but I did send a letter with some of the bills to the White Collar Crime Unit. It’s probably them.”
Bob added “Or somebody bigger.”
They drank their coffee in silence, pondering the facts they knew and tried to make predictions into the future. What would the next move be? Walt Carter was feeling pressure of the calendar and may do something even more desperate. Davies and Wix had no idea that anybody was on to them, so they were not likely to step into action and Calvin T. Boone, the phony oilman, wasn’t needed at the moment. The only thing that Wheeler could sense was the coming clash of someone and somewhere. What he had to look for was where he and the Keefers should be positioned for the next round. It seemed quiet until the phone rang in the shop.
“Keefer Fab” Bob answered into the phone.
“Bob, get over here quick” Alice breathlessly screamed into the phone, “Stevie just pulled up out front!”
“On my way” Bob barked and slammed the receiver down. He turned to Wheeler and said “Let’s go, I’ll explain on the way.” They ran through the shop, slammed the door and hopped into Bob’s truck and sped off to the farmhouse.
Bob pulled the truck into the driveway and skidded to a stop beside Stevie’s black truck. It was parked a bit crooked and the driver’s door was open showing the dash lights on but the engine was not running. Bob and Wheeler dashed past it into the back door of the house that led to the kitchen, which was also standing open. They both felt a moment of apprehension as they rushed inside bracing for some kind of confrontation. What they saw in the kitchen stopped them cold in their tracks.
Stevie was lying on his back in the middle of the kitchen floor with a trickle of blood seeping through his hair above his left temple. Alice was slumped over the table looking like she had just run two marathons. She was loosely holding a half size baseball bat that was probably a kid’s model.
She looked them over and developed a wry grin and said “Fat load of good you guys are when a woman needs a man around.” She waggled the bat as if testing it for balance.
Bob and Wheeler exhaled in unison as they surveyed the scene more carefully. Bob said “What in the world happened here? Are you okay?”
“Well” Alice began as the sirens could be heard in the distance. Then she changed direction “Let’s wait for the cops and I’ll tell you the entire whole story at the same time. I’m fine though, just a bit rattled, but I’m fine. He didn’t get anywhere with me but he was going to try. He was loud, belligerent and drunk.”
“I’ll get you some water” Bob said as he reached for a glass next to the sink. The police pulled into the drive and stormed the house from the back, startling the three of them into immobility. The two officers surveyed the scene and quickly realized there was no threat. Bob slowly handed Alice the water.
The lead officer with a name Brown on his badge asked to the room at large “What happened here, is everybody okay?” He did see Stevie out cold on the floor as he and his partner carefully entered the kitchen.
Alice responded “Stevie here” she gestured at the body on the floor “stormed in when I was alone and demanded that I come back to him, that I was his property and I had no right to dump him. He was drunk and came for me with both arms outstretched and I cold cocked him before he could get to me.” Alice lifted the short bat to show Officer Brown. Officer Brown’s partner stayed back at the doorway to the kitchen and was quietly talking on the radio calling dispatch with the status.
Officer Brown turned his attention to Alice “Did he have any reason to think his advance would be received? How long has it been since you ‘separated’”? He was trying to get the true story to jot down in his small notebook.
“It has been about two months and I have made it clear to him repeatedly that it was over. I told him don’t call me, don’t talk to me, just leave me alone.” She drank some water to calm herself. She was having a bit of a relapse, her strong, confident demeanor starting to crack.
Officer Brown leaned down to check on Stevie. He was breathing okay and did smell like he had been drinking, so the story seemed to check out.
“What is this guy’s full name?” He asked looking over to Alice.
“He is Steve Carter, he lives around here” Alice said.
He stood up and looked at Bob then Wheeler “Who are you two?” He pulled up his pad to take notes.
Bob responded “I am Alice’s brother Bob Keefer and this is Wheeler, my helper down at the shop. Alice called me when Stevie pulled up to the house and we got here just before you did.” Officer Brown was making notes and didn’t look up for a moment.
“Do you live here too?”
“I do and Wheeler is staying here for a while too.”
“Has Steve ever done anything like this before?” Bob, Alice and Wheeler looked at each other, measuring the faces and replaying the suspicions they all shared about Old Glorys and the late night truck raid that were most certainly Steve. Officer Brown looked expectantly at the three of them wondering at the hesitation. The lull in the questioning was interrupted by a car pulling into the driveway and the other officer going out to meet it. It was the paramedic unit of the fire department.
The two medicos crowded into the kitchen with their medical kits and spread them out on either side of Stevie. The young man leaned in to take a close look at him and his young attractive partner opened her kit and rummaged around for supplies. The original group pressed over toward the sink to continue the questioning.
“Now” Officer Brown continued “has he done anything like this before?”
The three of them nodded their agreement and Alice told him about the suspected bombing of the antique shop and the late night, failed raid at the house and concluded with her frustration in convincing Stevie to leave her alone. She was shaken a bit by reliving the sordid details, but did finish with some dignity. Steve moaned from the kitchen floor and started coming around, attracting the attention of everyone in the room.
“Do you want to press charges, ma’am?”
“Yes please” Alice said with a most un-ladylike grin.