Steve Martini - The Enemy Inside

“Did you talk to this guy Betz personally?” I ask.

“No. That’s the thing. He’s in a federal penitentiary, maximum security. Bunking next to one of the ayatollahs who tried to blow up the World Trade Center before they knocked it down. That’s what I was told.”

Harry and I look at each other.

“For a white-collar crime, I’m told that this is unusual,” says Alex. “You’re both lawyers.” He looks over at Harry and me. “You tell me.”

“So if you didn’t talk to him, how do you know all this?” asks Harry.

“The only one Betz was allowed to see was his lawyer. So I talked to him.”

“And he told you all this?” I ask.

I can tell by the body language that Harry is already starting to discount this. Disgruntled lawyer who lost a case.

“He told me that he and Betz tried to cut a deal with the government. They made what you call a proffer. You know what that is?”

I nod.

“Betz and his lawyer supplied a list of names to the deputy US Attorney handling the case, names of people that the whistleblower, Rubin Betz, said held secret offshore accounts. This list went up the chain at Justice. I was told by the lawyer that some of these names you would recognize. Prominent people,” says Alex.

“Did he supply you with any of the names?” asks Harry. “This lawyer?”

“No.”

“Then what happened?” I ask.

“According to Betz’s lawyer, the government not only refused to deal with them, they piled on more charges. They claimed that Betz was not dealing honestly and that he was withholding information from the government. The attorney admitted that his client was no choirboy. But he claimed he wasn’t withholding anything either. He said that the government used this as an excuse to put the man away. It also chilled anyone else with information from coming forward. It was almost as if they didn’t want to know. The lawyer said that Betz wasn’t dangerous. There was no history of violent crimes in his past, what the lawyer called mostly minor white-collar stuff. And no reason for maximum security. He said they charged Betz with things that they never charge in other cases. Stuff they always let slide, especially if you were willing to cooperate, which Betz was.”

“Lesser included offenses,” says Harry.

“I don’t know. Probably. All I know is that they threw the book at Betz,” says Ives.

“Prosecutorial discretion,” says Harry. “Government can do whatever it wants, kick the crap out of their political opponents while ignoring the crimes committed by their friends. Given the current political divide it could become the next national pastime.”

“Betz’s lawyer told me that at sentencing the government asked for a term of fifty years. Even the judge went ballistic. He sentenced him to twelve.”

“He must have done something,” says Harry. “Still, goes to show you, you never want to get crossways with the government.”

“This lawyer, do you have his name?” I ask.

“I do. But it won’t do you any good.”

“You mean he won’t talk to me?”

“He won’t talk to anybody,” says Ives. “He’s dead.”

“Don’t tell me. . a traffic accident?” says Herman.

Ives shakes his head. “Plane crash,” he says. “About a year and a half ago. Just after his client went to prison. He owned a small private plane. They said it was a mechanical problem.”

“Alex, I want you to quit that job right now,” says his mother. “Who are these people you’ve gotten yourself involved with?”

“I thought it was our government. But I’m not so sure anymore,” says Ives.

“Why would they kill the lawyer,” says Harry, “when they went to all the trouble of prosecuting Betz? Why not just kill them both if the mission is to shut them up?”

“That’s a good point,” I say.

“The answer to that may have died with Olinda Serna,” says Alex.

“What?” Harry looks at him.

“It’s how we got on to Serna,” says Ives. “She and Betz knew each other.” It sounds as if we are about to go full circle.

“Betz and Serna used to work together.”

Harry and I look at each other.

“Back in the day when she worked campaigns before she went on Senate staff and later became the hotshot lawyer, I was told she and Betz were an item. They lived together. He handled the money. Her name was on the campaign finance statements. She was paid. He was a volunteer. They ran a business. At least that’s what I was told. He did most of the legwork, the collections,” says Ives. “I also heard that a lot of the checks that came in went through his fingers. Campaign contributions and maybe other things I don’t know about. Some of this is in Tory’s files. He would have more details,” says Alex.

“These campaigns. Do you know who they were for?” asks Harry.

“Members of Congress. She was working in D.C. at the time.”

“Aren’t campaigns usually handled in the district, back home?” I ask.

“Apparently not this stuff,” says Ives.

“Which members of Congress?” says Harry.

“I don’t know. Again, that’s probably something Tory would know. I think he’s got the records.”

“What about the trip to Switzerland?” says Harry. “You told us before that you and Graves went to Switzerland looking for something?”

“We did. Tory had some information. A contact, he said, in Lucerne. We went there to meet with him. But when it was time to see the man, Tory went alone. He told me it would be best. The guy might be less nervous if he approached him by himself.”

“What else did he find out?” says Harry.

“Just what I told you. If there’s anything more you’d have to get it from Tory. When he came back from the meeting he was very tightlipped. It was strange. Tory seemed to have changed about that time. Before then, he shared a lot of what he knew. After that, he seemed to play everything close to the vest. Kept it to himself like maybe he didn’t trust me. Not just me but others as well.”

Tory Graves, the name keeps popping up. He is climbing up the list of people I want to meet.

“So what do we have?” says Herman. “A dead lawyer. Another woman and her significant other burned to death in front of us. Some guy doin’ time for cheatin’ the taxman. And lots of money moving around overseas. What’s the connection?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “But one thing’s for sure. It’s not safe for Alex to remain here any longer.”

“Listen, I can take care of myself,” he says.

“Yeah. You proved that the night of the party,” says Harry.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. They surprised me.”

“Yeah, and they’ll do it again,” says Herman.

“Besides, the longer you stay here, the greater the risk for your parents,” I tell him.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” he says.

“You should. The three of you will be safer if Alex is someplace else,” I tell them.

“Why can’t we just go to the police?” says his mother. “Aren’t they supposed to help in cases like this?”

“They might believe us. Or they might not,” I tell her. “Either way, their only recourse will be to put Alex back in jail. If they believe he’s in danger, they’ll go to court and tell the judge he’s a flight risk, and the judge will probably revoke his bail. If they put him back behind bars, I can’t vouch for his safety.”

“Oh, God!” His mother doesn’t want to hear this.

“It’s OK. It’ll be all right,” I tell her. “We’ll find a place for him where it’s safe.” Even as I say this I know it’s an idle promise.

“Where?” says Harry.

“I don’t know. I’ll work on that.”

“You know what it sounds like to me?” says Herman.