Mike Faricy - Russian Roulette

“I hope you can understand our situation down here on the local level,” Aaron added. “We still need this guy put out of business, now. Not another twenty-four months from now. Once the money laundering out in Valdem surfaced we can’t reach Peters. He has our calls routed through some sort of communications office like we’re a local newspaper instead of members on the same Task Force.”

Val nodded then looked at Nikki and said something in Russian.

Nikki didn’t look up but replied.

Val seemed to be considering whatever Nikki had said, looked over at Hale, then to me, Aaron, then back again to Hale, took a breath, “Well. I can tell you Peters will be focused on the bank. He’s going to ask you, ask is my word by the way, basically he’ll insist. But he’s going to ask you to wait on Braco Alekseeva so he can establish a trail. Which from what you tell me, he has a pretty good chance of doing. But you are looking at another twelve to eighteen months, minimum. Meanwhile, like you said, Braco Alekseeva will continue to operate.” She said something to Nikki in Russian again.

Nikki responded, Val nodded.

“Nikki thinks he has other sources to rebuild his laundering scheme. A guy like that is too smart not to. Problem isn’t if, but rather when he reestablishes, he’ll have the funds and the attorney’s to fight this thing indefinitely. I think you’re sort of in the eye of the hurricane. It’s safe, relative to legal maneuvering, to go after him but there is a limited window. I’m talking days not weeks.”

“Do you think Peters could be talked into doing both, nailing the bank and Braco at the same time?” I asked.

“That would be the bold move but in the end Peters is a career corporate man. He didn’t get to the level he’s at by being bold and taking chances. No, he’ll follow the sure thing, the bank. It’s more his style, less chance of getting his hands dirty, less chance of anything going wrong.”

“I’m not his biggest fan but are you telling me he’s okay with Braco getting away?” I asked.

“No. He’s okay with going after a bank that has been laundering drug money. That’s his main focus now. If, in the process, some pimp running a few girls postpones his day of reckoning, well, that wasn’t the intent, but it’s how things played out. That’s how he’ll view it.”

“You’re kidding me?” I said looking over at Aaron.

“No, she’s probably right. They’ll go after the bank and the CDC’s, the Combio’s, you can see them closing those things down for the next couple of years. Think of the headlines, with all the bailouts and the foreclosure problems. I mean who wouldn’t love to see a banker or two marched off to jail? And they’ll learn something here, they’re not stupid. I’ll lay you odds any bank working with Combio’s is going to be looked at very closely, effective yesterday.”

Nikki said something to Val, they spoke back and forth in Russian. Hale said to me, “I think from my standpoint we’ve got more than enough to go after Braco.” He drummed his fingers on the picnic table for a moment then said, “Yeah, I’d like to do it. I don’t want to see that animal on the streets any longer than necessary. You?” he looked over at Aaron.

“That’s what I’ve wanted to do all along,” Aaron replied.

The volume of Braco’s communication skyrocketed with Peters’ high-profile news coverage. Peters continued to route calls from Aaron and Hale through a communications officer. So much for the Task Force.

Val kept us fairly informed, nothing top secret, but her information proved our initial assessments had been correct. The idea of arresting bankers and shutting down an institution involved in money laundering, along with all the headlines, had proven just too tempting.

Aaron and Hale planned to move on their own and arrest Braco Alekseeva, Kerri Vucavitch, and Tibor Crvek, ‘The Butcher.’ They planned to go after them on a laundry list of charges including murder, extortion, racketeering, money laundering, human trafficking, and prostitution. They were in the process of having a stack of warrants prepared when events took a dramatic course of their own.

Val received a call directly from Peters, still out in western Minnesota. He instructed her to get involved in the missing-person investigation of a sixty-five-year-old St. Paul accountant by the name of Marvin “The Manipulator” Lepke. Mr. Lepke, a CPA whose state licenses had been revoked some ten plus years ago, had just one client, Braco Alekseeva. Lepke was reported missing by his wife within twenty-four hours of the Valdem bank story breaking.

Aaron, Hale, and I arrived at the Lepke home. Marvin “The Manipulator” wasn’t a complete stranger to anyone who read local newspapers. His legal problems some years back had been in all the papers. He was fat, bald, ill-tempered, and touted as an accounting genius up to the time of his arrest and subsequent incarceration on embezzlement charges.

“If you even open your mouth, I’m going to drop kick you out of here,” Aaron said to me as we walked up to Marvin Lepke’s front door.

The home was situated in the posh, staid, Crocus Hill area of St. Paul. A massive two and a half-story red-brick colonial with white trim, a white picket fence, and pink roses climbing over lattice work. An overweight golden retriever was sleeping on the front step. He lifted his head at the sound of the gate closing, wagged his tail once or twice in hopes of a scratch behind the ear, but other than that, never moved.

“Great watchdog,” Hale laughed.

Aaron rang the doorbell.

An attractive blond woman answered the door and invited us in. She might have been forty, but looked no more than thirty-five. She did a fantastic bit of justice to the pair of black stretch pants clinging to her perfectly toned form.

“Hello, I’m Lori Lepke,” she said.

Lepke’s daughter I guessed.

Aaron introduced us, and I responded with a slight nod.

Gorgeous Lori said,

“An agent from the FBI is already here, back in the kitchen. Thank you for coming. This way, please,” then turned and we followed.

The elegant interior of the home really didn’t register. I was focused on Lori’s sexy walk. Entering the kitchen I spied a set of luscious dark curls and returned to reality.

“Agent Dziedzic,” I said.

Aaron cleared his throat as a warning.

“Gentleman,” Val said.

“Oh, you already know one another?” Lori asked.

“We’ve worked together on other projects,” Aaron replied.

“Coffee?” Lori asked, pulling three matching mugs from one of the spotless white cabinets on the wall. She must have worked on her figure twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Very firm and very beautiful.

“I told all of this to the other officers earlier in the day. But, well as I was just telling agent Dziedzic, my husband, Mr. Lepke, is a creature of habit and when he didn’t come home, didn’t call, I became very worried. After all…”

Husband? That toad? It couldn’t possibly have been the first time Lori Lepke had seen a shocked look on someone’s face when she identified herself as Marvin Lepke’s wife, Mrs. “Manipulator.” Despite my sense of having just been banged over the head with a heavy shovel I regained control as she continued on with her story.

“… hours but that’s just not Mr. Lepke. He’s never missed a night with me since the day we married.”

Small wonder, I thought.

“How long have you been married?” Aaron asked, taking a mug of coffee from her and nodding thanks.

“Two years and three months,” she said dispensing mugs to Hale and myself. She made it sound like she had been serving a sentence.