Unimpressed by Mike’s theatrics, Karen folded her arms and returned Mike’s stare. She persisted. “You’re sweeping it under the rug again, King. That history has been every bit as hard for me as it is for you. Besides, your scars aren’t the issue and you know it.”
“I really don’t. What is the issue?”
“The money. As long as you insist on keeping it, you’ll never be able to forget that part of our past. I don’t care how hard you try to hide it, it’ll always be there and it’ll always be tainted.”
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” Mike conceded, finally accepting the futility of avoiding a forthright discussion about a subject he knew had been tormenting Karen for a very long time.
“So what have you been thinking?”
“I’ve come to a conclusion. You want to hear it?”
“Not particularly, if it involves keeping even one penny of that money.”
“It involves something I said ten years ago, and it’s been on my mind ever since. I said we should use the money to do some good in this world. I still think we should. I want to give it anonymously to the World Agricultural Foundation. It’s one of the most efficient charities in the world. Instead of feeding hungry people, it teaches them to feed themselves.” Mike paused to give Karen time to consider his idea. “If you agree, we’ll get started fast, but if you want to give the money back to to the Feds, I’ll never agree.”
Karen smiled. “That’s a beautiful idea. Let’s do it.”
“Okay, we need to talk to Dan Turner first. We need to find a way of giving the money away without any possibility of anyone tracing the source. I don’t want us to go to jail just because we suddenly decided to wash our hands.”
Karen reached across the table and grasped Mike’s hand. “I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me,” she said, delighted that she would soon be rid of the fruits of her former husband’s crimes, a curse that had plagued her for too long,
Phillip, standing out of sight in the hallway, no more than twenty feet away, had overheard the entire conversation, each shocking and disappointing word penetrating his heart like a dagger. His parents had lied to him about his inheritance. Ten years earlier they had told him it was returned to the governments of Canada and the United States. He was excited and stunned to learn that his birthright was still in his parents’ hands. He was horrified that they were planning to give it away. “I’ve got to stop them,” he said quietly to himself, then began to dream of a new life with his father’s millions.
CHAPTER 51
Glen Cove, Long Island. Saturday, March 24,1990.
“I don’t think there’s any question Poindexter’s guilty as hell,” Andrea Dennis postulated, contributing to the conversation at her small but intimate dinner party. “But I’m not sure about Ollie North.”
Charles Iacardi, the plump chain smoking partner in Iacardi &Sons, emptied his glass of brandy with one gulp, then turned to face Andrea. “If you listened closely to North’s secretary… What the hell was her name?”
“Fawn Hall,” Jerry Mara said.
Iacardi nodded. “Yah. Hall admitted she altered documents under orders from North, presumably to remove Poindexter’s comments.” He winked at Andrea. “Now why would an innocent man order her to do that?”
“North was acting under orders from Poindexter,” Miles said.
Andrea smiled. “And maybe Poindexter was acting under orders from McFarlane.”
“And Reagan sanctioned the whole scam,” Visconti added, chuckling.
Sally Ricci, a twenty-eight year old blonde bimbette from Queens and Charles Iacardi’s date for the evening, leaned forward and blinked. “Will somebody tell me what the hell you people are talking about? Who are all these people?”
Iacardi smiled. “Isn’t she beautiful? Every time I take her out she shocks me with her knowledge of current events.” He gave her a disparaging glare. “If you took time out from all those mind numbing soaps you watch every day, you might actually learn what’s happening in this world.”
“Don’t be nasty, Charles,” Visconti said, then turned to Sally. “We’re talking about the Iran-Contra Affair. It’s been alleged that a number of high-ranking bureaucrats in Washington have secretly diverted funds from the sale of weapons to Iran. The powers that be suspect the money was used to support the Nicaraguan Contras in their civil war with the Sandinistas.”
Sally nodded, pretending to understand.
Visconti turned to face Kerri. She was sitting directly opposite him and looking incredibly beautiful in the same formfitting white knitted dress she had worn to her mother’s wedding. “Kerri, Miles tells me you’re living here now. How do you…”
Andrea interrupted. “Louis, how could you be so insensitive?” she scolded, frowning at him.
“It’s okay,” Kerri said, then turned to Visconti. “I don’t think it would surprise you to know that Brian and I have split. Miles and Andrea have very generously invited me to stay with them.”
“Please forgive me,” Visconti pleaded. “It really was insensitive of me to mention it.”
“Not at all. It’s actually therapeutic to talk about it.”
After a tense pause in the conversation, Miles stood in response to an overt signal from Andrea. “My wife has asked me to invite you all to join us in the den for Irish coffees.” He blew a kiss to Andrea. “That was an outstanding dinner, darling.”
After thanking the hostess, the guests followed Dennis toward the den.
Visconti hurried to catch up with Kerri. Before she could enter the den he grasped her arm, causing her to turn and face him. “Can you forgive me for that comment? It really was out of line,” he said.
“There’s nothing to forgive. What you said wasn’t out of line at all. Obviously you didn’t know my husband and I had split.”
Relieved, he released her arm. “Do you mind waiting here for a second? I have something for you. It’s in my briefcase in the hallway. I’ll be back in a second.”
Puzzled and curious, Kerri nodded and waited.
Visconti returned with his briefcase, then removed the report given to him by Nick Bennedetti earlier in the day. He handed it to her. “Before you open this, I want you to know it’s probably going to hurt you. Please understand that I had it done because I care about you, and because I wanted to help.”
Kerri opened the report bound in a black folder, then began to scan page after page of photographs of Brian and Tina DeSouza making love in every conceivable position. She closed it and glared at Visconti. “How could you do this?” she asked, her expression contorted by revulsion and anger.
“When I saw that picture of your husband in the Times, I thought of you and what it would do to you. I tried to imagine how totally devastating it must have been for you to find out that way. So I…”
“But why this?” Kerri asked, raising her voice, tears streaming from her eyes. “You had to know how devastating it would be.”
“I got mad, Kerri,” Visconti said, taking the report from her. He placed it on the dining room table, then turned and took her in his arms. He met no resistance. “Maybe it was wrong of me to interfere, but if I had the choice to do it again, I would. I just couldn’t believe your husband could be so blatant about his affair with another woman.” He tilted his head backward and looked into her tear filled blue eyes. “If what I did was insensitive, what he did was an atrocity.”
“I still don’t understand how those photographs could possibly help me.”
“My strongest motivation was to let you know what a rat you’re married to. A lesser one was to give you some ammunition. You’re going to need it.”
“You mean something to use against him in court?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“You’re the second man who’s made the same erroneous assumption.”
“Who was the first?”
“Miles.”
“Why was it erroneous?”
“He assumed I wa
nted something from Brian.”
Visconti chuckled. “You will, and when you do, you’ll be happy to have that report.”
“You’re wrong, Louis. I could never stoop to that level. I didn’t have any money when I met Brian. All I ever wanted was the man I loved. He no longer exists, so I don’t want anything from him.”
Visconti was captivated by the passion with which Kerri had spoken. “You’re absolutely amazing,” he said, the corners of his mouth suggesting a smile. “I had no idea there was a girl left on this planet with your attitude.” He startled her by kissing her gently on the lips, then reached for her hand. “Let’s go. Andrea’s going to wonder where we are.”
She squeezed his hand and refused to move. “Thank you, Louis.”
“For what?”
“The thought.”
“Still friends?”
“Definitely.”
“What are we going to do with that?” Visconti asked, pointing to Bennedetti’s report.
“You keep it? I’ll call you if I ever need it.”
Visconti lifted the report and flicked through the pages while continuing to stare at Kerri. “Will you have lunch with me on Monday?”
“Sure.”
Their conspicuous delay in joining the guests had been noticed by Andrea. She glared at them as they entered, her curiosity stimulated as she focused on the black folder under Visconti’s arm. “I was beginning to think you two had left,” she said, then pointed to the coffee table. “Your Irish coffees are waiting for you. I hope you like them cold.”
Visconti lifted one of the mugs, then turned to Andrea. “Sorry for the delay. Kerri and I had something important to discuss.”
Kerri took the last mug and sat in a well cushioned dark blue chair near the fireplace, close enough to enjoy the heat from the flames. Oblivious to the cacophony of numerous conversations in the room, her eyes were riveted on the fire but her mind focused on the black folder under Visconti’s arm. Visions of the graphic photos flashed through her brain. She wondered how a man could transfer physical affections in such a short period of time. She tried to understand how Brian’s conscience would allow him to share his body with another woman, while still married to her. Her thoughts surrendered to anger as she thought of Brian’s flagrant violation of his marriage vows.
She was startled to see Charles Iacardi and Sally, standing in front of her. “I guess you didn’t hear me, Kerri,” Iacardi said with a polite smile.
“I’m sorry,” Kerri said, blushing. “I was lost in thought.”
Iacardi extended his hand. “Unfortunately Sally and I have to leave, but we didn’t want to go with out saying good-bye to you… I also wanted to tell you personally how happy we are to have you in the company. Miles has told me nothing but good things about you.”
“Thank you, Charles. It was very kind of you to say that,” Kerri replied, then turned to Sally. “It was nice to meet you, Sally.”
“You bet,” Sally said with a plastic smile.
The last guest to leave was Visconti. “Goodnight Kerri,” he said, reaching for her hand and wishing he could take her in his arms. “I’ll be at your office door at noon on Monday.”
Kerri showed a forlorn smile. “I’ll see you then.”
While Miles accompanied Visconti to the front door, Andrea rushed to sit in the chair adjacent to Kerri’s. “Kerri, please forgive me. I have an absolutely insatiable curiosity. I had no idea you knew Louis,” she said, leaning against the arm of her chair and focusing on Kerri’s eyes.
“Your husband introduced us. He’s been doing a lot of business with Iacardi lately.”
“Is there something more than a business relationship between you and Louis?”
“What would lead you to believe there is?”
“I noticed the two of you were late for Irish coffees.”
Kerri’s face flushed as she turned to stare at the fire.
“Kerri, please tell me to shut up if…”
“It had everything to do with the folder Louis was carrying,” Kerri admitted. “He decided to try to help me when he saw the picture of Brian and that stripper in the paper. He hired a private detective to follow Brian and take pictures. They were all in that folder.”
“It hurt you to see them, didn’t it?”
Kerri nodded again, tears flowing. “They were awful. I just can’t believe he could jump out of our bed and into someone else’s.”
Andrea chuckled. “Believe it, dear. A lot of men could, and do. I think they have a switch in their brains. All they have to do is flick it to detach their heads from their dicks… Enough of that crap. I really wanted to talk about Louis. You still haven’t answered my question. Is there something more than a business relationship between you and him?”
Kerri shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly be interested in another man. I don’t think I could even bring myself to trust one again.”
Andrea smirked. “You will, and when you do, trust will be a must.”
“I wish I could share your optimism.”
“You need someone in your life. Spending the rest of it alone is not an option for someone as loving and caring as you obviously are… By the way, Louis Visconti wouldn’t be a bad start.”
Kerri shook her head, but couldn’t hide a blush. “You must be joking. He’s almost old enough to be my father.”
“So what! He’s probably one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. Most women would kill for a man like him. He’s incredibly good looking, rich and available. Besides, I saw the way he looked at you tonight. I think he’s interested in a lot more than helping you.”
Although Andrea had stated what had been apparent to Kerri for some time, Kerri avoided acknowledging it. “Even if he was, I couldn’t allow myself to get involved. The last thing I need right now is another relationship.”
“Give it time my dear. It’s a great healer.”
Miles appeared in the doorway to the den. “Goodnight girls. You can stay here and talk your brains out. I’m going to bed.” He blew a kiss, then disappeared.
Andrea stood and placed her hand on Kerri’s shoulder. “I should go with him. He gets upset when I come to bed and wake him up. Enjoy the fire.”
“Thanks again for everything, Andrea.”
“My pleasure.”
Kerri continued to stare at the flames, pondering her uncertain future.
CHAPTER 52
Toronto. Monday, April 2, 1990
Mike traversed the slush-covered parking lot on his way to the door of his office. He was happy, the warmth of the sunshine and the continued strength of his business and marriage to Karen contributing to his buoyant frame of mind. He whistled as he entered the building and walked down the hallway leading to the open office area. “Hi Margaret,” he greeted one of his two secretaries.
She looked up and smiled. “Morning Mike… Chris Lippert’s waiting for you in your office. You’re not going to like what he has to say.”
His smile disappeared. “What is it? Tell me before I go in there?”
“I think I should let him tell you.”
Mike hurried to his office, closed the door and faced Terry Lippert, his most experienced representative and responsible for the supervision of Mike’s Toronto area retail gasoline outlets. Now thirty-two years of age, Lippert had been hired by Mike as a station manager, eight years earlier. Acknowledging Lippert’s commitment to the business and tireless efforts, Mike had rewarded him with generous salary increases and advancing levels of responsibility.
Lippert’s worried facial expression spoke volumes. “Did Margaret tell you why I’m here?” he asked.
“No, but she told me I’m not going to like what you’re going to tell me.”
“She was right about that… I think you should sit down.”
“Terry, just do it!” Mike demanded.
“We uncovered a credit card kiting scam… It’s an in-house deal.” Lippert paused and looked away, wishing he could just stop talking. “Philli
p’s in on it.”
Mike walked slowly behind his desk and sat in his brown velour covered swivel chair. “You sure?” he asked, his eyes locked on Lippert’s.
Lippert nodded. “I wish I wasn’t. Phillip and Gary Matheson have been doing it for some time. If Phillip hadn’t been greedy, we probably wouldn’t have known about his involvement. He tried to recruit some of the other managers, but they refused and told me the whole story.”
“Were you aware of the scam before they told you?”
Lippert nodded. “It started when one of our customers phoned to complain about an overcharge on his credit card statement. According to his records, he bought twenty dollars worth of gasoline on February twenty-sixth. His statement showed he bought thirty dollars worth. If that was an isolated occurrence, we probably would have told the customer it was impossible to substantiate his claim. It was simply our word against his.”
“There were more?”
“A lot more. We audited all the credit card drafts for February and March and found a ton of them.”
“How did they do it?”
“Suppose you bought twenty dollars worth of gasoline and used your credit card to pay for it. Now, suppose the attendant takes your signed credit card draft and changes the twenty to a thirty. He puts the thirty dollar draft in his cash drawer and takes out ten dollars, cash. That maneuver balances his cash. Then he puts the ten in his pocket, and you get charged for thirty instead of twenty.”
Mike winced and shook his head. “Dammit, Chris, I’ve heard of a lot of ill-conceived scams in my career, but this is the dumbest. Those kids had to know that eventually some customers would reconcile their purchases with their statements.”
Lippert chuckled. You’ll love this one. “The latest complaint we got was from a woman who got a fifty-six dollar charge on her statement. It bothered her because she said her car won’t hold any more than fifty dollars worth.”