Green Kills (19 page)

New York, October 26, 2013, 6:45 PM

The moment he stepped into the darkened restaurant, he realized
something was wrong. He quickly glanced at his watch and relaxed a bit when he
saw he wasn’t late for the appointment. The one time he’d arrived two minutes
late for an appointment with the head of the family, he’d found himself with a
loaded gun against his temple. “Germans, even though I despise them, have some
good qualities,” the boss had explained to him in a heavy, venomous accent.
“Punctuality is the most important of them. Being late for an appointment is
unprofessional, and the last thing I need is an employee who is
unprofessional.” He’d breathed onto his face, before slowly uncocking the gun.

The bodyguard who blocked his way wouldn’t have been able to
stop him even if he wanted to. None of the people in the room could. But the
Chinese man knew there were enough weapons in the room to arm a small country.
He stopped in his tracks and waited. Behind the back of the fat Italian who was
blocking his way, he could see the boss sitting at the head of the table, a
plate of gnocchi and a glass of 2009 Lamoresca Rosso in front of him. The boss
imported dozens of cases of the wine and during each meal took care to tell
everyone a man is measured by the quality of the wine he drinks, and there’s
good wine only in Sicily.

As if they’d been given a sign, all the people in the room
stopped talking and looked at him.
Even though he was careful
to maintain a relaxed appearance, his eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses as
usual, searched the room, while in his mind he was already planning his next
move.
He’d been working for the boss for over ten years and the latter
had never barred his way before. The message was clear — they were not pleased
with his performance. 

The bodyguard, encouraged by the hostile atmosphere, extended
his hands to search for concealed weapons on the Chinese man’s body. That
proved to be a grave mistake. Before the former could realize what was
happening, his wrist was twisted with a painful screech, followed by his obese
body, which was hurled toward the floor where his nose met the guest's knee,
already moving up with lightning speed. The encounter was devastating. Before
anyone could react, the bodyguard
lay
unconscious,
blood pooling on the floor around him.

The Chinese man remained standing erect, ready for any development.
The silence was broken by the boss who, with an indifferent flick of his hand,
ordered the unconscious man to be removed from the room and the floor to be
cleaned. He raised his glass toward the assassin and instructed him to come
closer. The Chinese man reached the table, lowered his head and waited for an
invitation to sit down. The invitation never arrived.

“Why did you attack the Israeli?” The question was hurled in his
face. “Now he must be convinced that the family or a similar organization is
behind the recent moves. When will you start using your brains, or perhaps
Chinese people are brainless?” The boss drew a gun and pointed it at the
Asian’s head.

The killer didn’t blink. “I received information that the Israeli
objects to the acquisition. I thought that if we continued in the same way, he
would eventually block the deal and decided to let him know there’s a lot more
at stake here than he knows.”

“And since when are you the one calling the shots here?” The gun
barrel remained directed at his face.

“You’ve promoted me in the organization because I get results. I
have every intention to get them for you this time as well.”

“The results you’ll get will have the FBI opening an
investigation that may endanger many similar deals we’ve made in the past. When
will you learn to see the bigger picture and stop thinking with your muscles?”

The Chinese man remained erect, removed his sunglasses and
directed a venomous look toward the diners, before answering, evidently
unconcerned, “He won’t complain. He’s got no proof he could take to the
police.”

“My lawyers—” the boss tipped his chin toward Smith and Jones,
who were sitting beside him
  “
—tell me that your
move puts the entire deal at risk. They’re asking me to restrain you. What do
you I suggest I do?”

The Asian turned his head slowly toward the two lawyers, who
shrank in their chairs. He turned his face back to the boss and smiled. “Then
why don’t you ask them why they called me to complain about the Israeli? What
did they think?
That I’d send him some chocolates to mellow
him out?”

The bullet that was fired passed next to the assassin head. He
didn’t move a muscle and continued to smile. He knew the boss was unpredictable
and that human lives had no value in his eyes.
He’d witnessed
that himself on numerous occasions and even more times executed the killing
himself.
And yet, he was gambling that the boss wouldn’t want to harm
such a valuable asset as
himself
. “I won’t suffer any
disrespect. Without respect, our organization loses its ability to operate. If
you value your miserable life, see to it that the deal is closed this week
without the police or the FBI getting into the picture.” The boss lowered his
gun and the Chinese man turned to leave. The boss’ voice stopped him. “What’s
going on with that nice girl in Las Vegas? I heard even she’s making problems.
Do I understand there’s another loose end you’re unable to tie up?”

The Asian turned around slowly. “If my memory doesn’t deceive
me, you’re the one who instructed me not to kill her so as not to draw any
attention to the patients whose operation dates were switched. Right now, she
has only forged documents on her. We can kill her. By the time the authorities
find out who she is, assuming they even find her body, it will be almost
impossible to connect the stories. All you need to do is change your previous
instruction.” The assassin turned his eyes to the two lawyers and an icy smile
spread on his face. The fact that they’d dared to complain about him would cost
them dearly one day in the future, but it was important for him that they
realize it right now.

“Do what you need to do. You’re dismissed. Don’t get us into any
more trouble, for your own good,” the boss whispered and took another sip of
his wine.

Even before he reached restaurant door, the Chinese man was
already busy trying to remember the name of the Las Vegas hotel where Roselyn
D’Angelo was staying.

New York, October 27, 2013, 2:00 PM

Ronnie spent Saturday and the morning hours of Sunday in restless
sleep. The medication eased the pain in his leg but also fogged his mind. The
pain returned and woke him up around noon. He stretched his hand toward the
pill bottle but stopped midway. He couldn’t afford to sink into a chemical fog
again. He clenched his lips, drew his body up and sat with his back against the
bed pillows. The effort left him exhausted. He looked around and saw two notes
resting on the chest. The first one was in Liah’s handwriting.

Out to study with a
friend. Will be
back
home late. I’ve got an exam
tomorrow and I can’t study with Gadi around. I’m sure he’ll keep you safe.
Love, Liah.

Ronnie reread the note. The rift between Liah and Gadi was
getting wider by the day. What could have caused them to dislike one another so
much they couldn’t even bear to be in the same room anymore? He picked up the
second note and read.

Liah can’t endure my
presence. I’ve decided to leave. Don’t worry, I’m keeping you safe. You need to
stop popping pills and start thinking. You’re pretty useless as a zombie. I
left some food on the floor next to your bed. Eat!!! I sent Liah a message to
let her know I’ve left. I hope she’ll come back soon. Bye.

At the foot of the bed rested a tray with some pita bread,
hummus and chicken kebabs, a bottle of Coke and some salad. Ronnie lifted the
tray with effort and discovered the food was still warm.
If only I’d woken
up a few moments earlier, I could have put an end to their misunderstanding
,
he thought with frustration. The smell of the chicken kebabs reminded him he
hadn’t eaten for more than twenty-four hours. He gorged on the food and ten
minutes later put the empty tray back on the floor.
I need to get back to
myself
, he decided through the veil of pain and stretched his hand toward
the crutches leaning against the wall behind him. With an aching limp, he
reached the bathroom and looked at his miserable image reflected in the mirror.
He shaved and put on his tattered “
Sussita
12
—
The Best Station
Wagon Ever” t-shirt he liked to wear on the weekends. Then he collected the
ring binder the investment bankers had given him what now seemed like ages ago,
and inched his way back to bed.

Liah,
sweetheart, I feel much better. Gadi left me some food. Stay and study for as
long as you need. See you soon.
He texted the message and began working.
He spent the next few hours reading the share purchase agreement the Luxembourg
solicitors had presented to TDO. When he was finished, he stacked the papers on
the bed, filled with confusion.
This is one of the fairest acquisition
offers I’ve seen in my life, so why are they rushing me to close the deal
within a week? Why can’t I shake the feeling hurting me was part of this
persuasion campaign? Was I the only target, or were Henry and David hit as
well?

He glanced at his watch. It was eight o’clock.

“Yes, Ronnie, how can I help you?” David’s voice was hesitant.

“I was attacked on my way home from work yesterday. Right now,
I’m lying at home with my leg in a cast. Even though I can’t prove it yet, I
believe this has something to do with the TDO acquisition offer.”

David breathed heavily on the other end of the line. “
Wh-
what do you mean you were attacked?”

“The details are unimportant at the moment. I wanted to know if
you’ve been pressured to take the deal as well.”

“N-n-no, not really,” came David’s instant yet shocked reply.

“David, if not for my sake then for yours,
be
honest with me. Were you under any pressure to sell the company?”

“Ronnie, let me repeat myself — I wasn’t!!” David suddenly
sounded determined. “If I felt someone was pressuring me, I’d turn to the
police right away. I suggest that you do the same.”

“I don’t have any evidence at the moment to tie the two
incidents together and no information that might help the police
locate
the suspect.” He decided to conceal the truth and
added, “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get a good look at him.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“I’ve read the contract and it seems fair, even excellent in
light of our current circumstances. I intend to sit down with the company
lawyers tomorrow; if they approve the deal, I’ll sign it. Henry told me he’d
already checked with the attorneys representing the fund and they also think
the contract is drafted well and fairly.”

“Henry has already spoken with our lawyers?” A hint of doubt
could be heard in David’s voice. “When did he manage to do that?”

“I have no idea, but that’s what he told me.” 

“What did Henry say when you told him about the attack?”

“I didn’t. I’m not sure he’s not involved in it.” Ronnie
considered telling David about Henry’s gambling habit but decided against it.

“Henry can get on one’s nerves,” David admitted, “but he’s a
straight arrow. I’m willing to personally vouch for him.”

“Fine, I’ll call him,” Ronnie conceded.

The call with Henry was very similar. No, he hadn’t been
pressured, he said and sounded shocked when he learned Ronnie had been
attacked, and insisted he should turn to the police. When they finished
speaking, Ronnie was worn-out. The pain, reading the contracts, and the
telephone calls
had
exhausted him. He turned off the lamp next to his bed and closed his eyes,
trying to fall asleep.
Someone’s lying
, was the last thought that passed
through his mind.

New York, October 28, 2013, 7:45 AM

“Good morning, this is Special Agent Archibald Bukowski
speaking.”

“Good morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ronnie answered
in an assured voice, trying to conceal his fear.

“We started our first meeting on the wrong foot. I’m convinced
it would be worth our while to meet again. I believe I have some information
that you might find interesting, and my instincts tell me you have a lot to
tell me as well. I’d like it if you could drop by my office this morning.”

“I’d be delighted to meet you, but I’d really appreciate it if
you could come to my office this time. I was assaulted yesterday; someone broke
my leg. It is reasonable to assume that the attack is somehow related to the
subject we discussed.”

For a few long seconds, only silence could be heard on the other
end of the line,
then
it was broken by a sigh. “OK.
I’ll be there around eleven.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Who was that? Your breakfast is ready. Kumar sends his regards.
I’m running to my exam. Bye.” Liah threw him a kiss and left without waiting
for an answer.

Ronnie knew that as long as he was on crutches, any New Yorker
would beat him to a taxi, so he ordered a town car and gave the driver his
office address.

“What the hell happened?” Evelyn’s eyes widened when she saw
Ronnie hopping on his crutches, dressed in a tracksuit and wearing sneakers.

“Apparently, sports are not always good for you.” Ronnie waved
off her concern with a smile. “Is David in the office?”

“No, David and Henry are not here yet.” Evelyn continued to
stare at him with worry-filled eyes.

“Jim’s coming in to see me today, could you see that he’s let
into the office without me having to run and welcome him?” Ronnie tried to calm
her down, without much success. “Also, there’s an Archibald Bukowski about to
arrive as well, please escort him to my office the moment he shows up.”

Evelyn rose from her seat and accompanied Ronnie to his office.
She waited until he sat down, following his eyes, which narrowed with pain,
with a concerned look. “Who’s Bukowski?” she asked. “I’ve never heard his name.”

Ronnie was quiet for a moment, trying to find a position that
would ease the pain in his leg. “An FBI agent,” he answered dryly.

Evelyn sank into the visitor’s chair. “I don’t know what’s going
on here, but do me a favor and stop whatever you’ve gotten yourself involved
with right this moment. Now the FBI is involved! Ray, nothing is worth this.
What exactly are you trying to prove?”

Ronnie couldn’t ignore the concern in her voice. “I promise to be
careful.” He tried vainly to shake off the subject.

The concern in Evelyn’s eyes transformed to anger. “Your macho
games are not going to end well. Just cut it out.” She got up and stormed out
of the room. Ronnie was stunned. He’d never seen Evelyn so emotionally
involved. Finally, he shook off his surprise, turned on the computer and
connected the portable drive he’d received from the buyers’ representatives. He
sent all the material to TDO’s attorneys, asking to receive their expert
opinion that same day, as well as all the information they were able to come up
with about the acquiring company and the investment bankers who represent it. “
I authorize the use of as much
manpower as you deem necessary, as long as I get the answers as soon as
possible
,”
he
finished the email and signed as company chairman.

The door opened and Evelyn invited Jim to come in. She stole
another glance at Ronnie and left without saying a word.

“Please excuse me for not standing up to greet you” — Ronnie
extended his hand, still seated — “but I broke my leg two days ago and each
movement hurts like hell.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Evelyn told me you were injured doing
some sporting activity. That’s exactly the reason I try to stay clear of sports
— nobody has ever been injured watching TV,” Jim recreated a lame joke. Evelyn
came into the room holding a cup of coffee. She left it in front of Jim and
left the room. Jim followed her with his eyes, sending Ronnie a questioning
gaze.

“We received an offer for TDO on Friday,” Ronnie began, ignoring
Jim’s inquisitive look. “The buyers are represented by a pair of investment
bankers. They submitted an offer on behalf of a Luxembourg company that’s
acting as a buffer between TDO and the real buyer. They intend to keep running
TDO as an independent company for at least two years and then decide about its
future. I have to admit that based on our financial situation, as well as the
results of the last two trials, I find the offer to be exceptionally good. I
wanted to hear your opinion.”

“What was the price they offered?” asked Jim, maintaining a
matter-of-fact expression.

“Three hundred and fifty million dollars.”

“Normally, I’d recommend rejecting the offer. I think the
company could be worth five times as much, or even more, within a couple of
years. On the other hand, we need money in order to survive this year…what do
you suggest we do?”

“I’ll be honest with you: I’m in the minority here. The rest of
the investors are interested in selling and not trying to exhaust bank loans or
perhaps even raise some money based on a low company valuation. I passed the
material to the company lawyers, and I hope we’ll hear from them soon. If I had
to gamble, I’d bet the company will have a new owner by next Friday.”

“That fast?”

“That was the buyer’s only condition. The offer will expire on
Friday. Because it’s the only offer we currently have, I’m focusing on doing
some background checks on the buyers and their representatives. If they come up
clean, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to sell the company. I intend to
recommend the buyers that they appoint you as permanent CEO, if that’s all
right with you.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

There was a knock at the door, followed by Bukowski’s
gray-haired head leaning in. “May I?”

“Please.” Ronnie motioned with his hand. “Jim, could you wait
outside for me, please? Ask Evelyn to set you up with a free room. Check if the
lawyers are already working on the contract and feel free to act as a slave
driver. You’ll find a copy of the email I sent them in your email. Thanks.”

Jim rose from his seat, curiously examined Bukowski, and then
slowly left the room. A moment later, Evelyn came in with a cup of coffee, set
it down next to the detective and left the room.

“It’s never a good idea to irritate a secretary.” Archibald
sighed and sank into the chair Jim had just vacated.

“Tell me about it.” Ronnie chuckled in agreement.

“So, how’d you break your leg?” Bukowski asked conversationally
while sipping his coffee.

Ronnie took a deep breath and began to describe what’d happened,
not omitting any of the details.

“You say you recognized your attacker?” Bukowski cut him off.
“Why didn’t you report this to the police?”

“I can’t identify him. I only know I saw him at the Sheraton
Sunnyvale the day after the TDO CEO had been found dead there.”

“How do you know it was him? Did you manage to notice any
distinguishing features?”

“He looked like many other Asian men, black hair and black eyes.
He was around five foot eight or nine.” Ronnie paused for a moment. “But in
both instances, the person I saw was wearing a Phi Beta Kappa ring. The odds
that we’re talking about two different people are close to zero.”

The detective took another sip, leaving the cup close to his
mouth, sunk in thought. “We’ll get back to what you’ve just told me,” he
suddenly said. “Before that, I’d like to update you on Ms. D’Angelo. It looks
like she did switch the dates of the operations and disappeared right after
that. I was even more surprised that I wasn’t able to find any record of her
flight to Central America. No one by that name has left the country or even
boarded a domestic flight. She seems to have disappeared into thin air. I’ve
spoken with her grandmother, a very nice woman. She told me Roselyn’s trip is
documented on Facebook, and she’s following it with pleasure, delighted her
granddaughter is having such a good time. Something here doesn’t smell right. I
hope she’s still alive. This thing’s a challenge for me now. I must find her.
The problem is, my superiors instructed me to shut down the investigation
because there’s no evidence of criminal actions. I don’t know what you’re doing
in the background, and I’m not really sure I want to know, but if and when you
find something out, please update me. If you think I can help, please don’t
hesitate to ask. No one will be happier than me to reopen the case and bring
the guilty parties to justice. And by the way, you can relax. I’ve been
convinced for a long time that you’re not guilty.”

Ronnie thought the agent seemed like a much nicer person when he
was smiling. “And the Chinese guy with the ring?”

“I’ll check in our databases, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.
Take care of yourself. You’re a civilian. It’s not your job to solve murders.”
Bukowski winked at him and left the room without saying goodbye.

Ronnie’s cell phone vibrated indicating an incoming message.
Don’t be stubborn. Nothing could be
worth the consequences.
 

Ronnie, frustrated that he was unable to determine if the
message was a threat or an expression of concern, turned off the screen and
asked Evelyn to send Jim back in. While waiting, the same questions kept
gnawing at him:
Why was the mysterious informer insisting on anonymity? Does
he truly have my best interests in mind? Perhaps he’s trying to trick me?

When he’d woken from his thoughts, he found Jim standing in
front of him, looking at him curiously.

“The painkillers are making me fuzzy,” Ronnie justified himself.
“What were we talking about?”

“The acquisition, the low price…”

“Yes, the price,” said Ronnie. “If not for those two deaths,
we’d be on top of the world right now.”

Jim nodded in agreement. “As I’ve said more than once, I think
it’s a case of sabotage that was performed outside the factory premises.”

“Exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.
Two days ago, you sent me the company’s security measures. I’ve read them
carefully, and I tend to agree with you that if someone sabotaged the
medication, it was done only after it had left the company premises. On the
other hand, the medicine was sent in a sealed container, and any attempt to
open it would’ve instantly been revealed. Which leaves us with the question —
Is
it possible the medication was indeed defective in the
first place, and all the events which followed, including the ones we’ve been
undergoing in the last few days, were merely a coincidence?”

“That’s a possibility, but I don’t think it’s a particularly
reasonable one. As I’ve explained to you, and as the records clearly
demonstrate, this is the same medicine we used in the previous operations.” An
expression of uncertainty settled on Jim’s face.

“And…?” Ronnie encouraged him.

“Brian is in charge of the medicine from the moment it arrives
at the hospital. Like I’ve told you, I don’t trust him. He’s slippery and
unreliable, and also—”

“Even if everything you say about Brian is true, this doesn’t
explain the second death case, as it took place in another hospital. Do you
really think both crimes were committed simultaneously by Brian and an unknown
partner in Philadelphia?” 

“As I tried to say before you cut me off,” Jim’s voice became
impatient, almost hostile, making it clear to Ronnie his respect for someone
who would no longer be the company chairman in just a few days was diminishing
by the moment, “I’ve discovered that from time to time, Christian would give
Brian the keys to the safe and ask him to take the medicine to the hospital
himself. We have at least two such cases on record. Who knows how many more are
not even recorded?”

Ronnie was surprised by Jim’s consistent and determined dislike
of Brian but held off that thought to ponder something else: He couldn’t ignore
this newest piece of information Jim had given him, nor the fact he hadn’t told
him anything about it until now. He needed to make a quick decision. He picked
up his cell phone and dialed.

“Brian, please come to my office, immediately. I need your help
again.” Ronnie listened to the answer,
then
turned to
Jim. “Brian is at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia for two
days.”

“That’s where the second death took place. He’s stirring the pot
again?” Jim turned red. “You still think I’m harassing Brian for no good
reason?”