I was watching Giants vs. Eagles when Charlie ran into our family room, clearly exited
about something.
“Did you hear about Ashley Wells?” he queried.
I looked at him, thinking that my son should know that I didn't follow entertainment
industry news.
“No, what happened?”
Charlie laughed. “Well, CNN just reported that her fiancé was electrocuted in a hot tub
last night.”
“Did she do it?” I asked while sitting up and suddenly paying a lot more attention.
Charlie walked over to me and sat next to me on the couch and I tried to remember the
last time we sat on the couch together, but came up empty.
“They're saying it's an accident…a blender fell into the water when he was alone in the
tub.”
“Really!” I said trying hard not to laugh. “I suppose there was no way to keep this kind of
thing from the press.”
Charlie punched me in the arm. “Are you kidding? The poparotsy covered her party and
were hanging out by her front gate.”
As he was saying this, I had that pit in my stomach again, the pit that was a gift from
Julio that just kept on giving. It didn't sound like Julio's work, but Brad was complaining about
where Ashley's money was going. It would not surprise me at all if the cartel had tapped my
phones.
I slapped Charlie on the knee.
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“Good stuff, my boy!”
I walked into the kitchen, found my cell phone, and dialed Martin's number that I knew
by heart.
“Martin, we've got to talk,” I opened.
He sighed into the phone. “Oh, this doesn't sound good.”
“Do you know about Ashley Wells and her fiancé?” I probed.
“The singer? Gee, I guess I haven't.”
“Come on now, Martin, level with me!”
He didn't say anything for a few seconds. I knew he was thinking about whether or not to
tell me anything.
“Are you on your cell phone?” Martin finally asked.
“Of course.”
“Now, you've got to know by now that we have your phones tapped, right?” Martin
continued.
Actually, I didn't think there was much to alert me that he had tapped my phones, yet I
played along.
“That's why I am calling you,” I said, trying to corner Martin into telling me everything.
“Okay, so we knew this Brad guy was poking around with questions about your firm that
could have landed us all in trouble, and we could not afford to take that chance,” Martin revealed
to me.
“So, you had him whacked?” I asked, now in the basement.
“You said it I didn't,” Martin stated.
“Jesus! Brad was harmless!” I ran my hands through my hair.
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“Hey we cannot have lawyers sniffing around our firm,” Martin said quite firmly. “There
is way too much at stake here, and I am surprised that you don't realize that!”
I knew Martin was right but just could not let myself ever feel okay with killing
somebody – ever. That self promise was made back when I learned about the Linders.
“And someday you can tell Darryl how lucky he is because Julio was going to have him
iced as well, but I convinced Julio that it might look too suspicious if two people associated with
the firm were killed.”
I didn't know what to say to that so I simply stood there silent in my basement for a good
twenty seconds. My family was moving around upstairs, though I felt I might as well be on a
deserted island faced with imminent danger and no one to turn to for key decisions other than
myself. At some point, Julio was going to find me expendable – it was only a matter of time. I
could see Martin taking the spare office at PLH, making nice with the clients and gradually
running me out of the picture.
I had to do something to change the course because if I didn't alter the status quo, Julio
would eventually do it for me. My whole family would be wiped out and Julio wouldn't give a rip
about it.
“You still there?” Martin asked. “Look, I know this is hard for you, but think how much
harder it would be if the feds suddenly show up at your door demanding to see your cooked
books. It wouldn't take them 20 minutes to figure out the scam your running.”
I let out a loud sigh and started to rub my temples. “You're guy is just down the street
watching over me and my family, so don't think that I don't appreciate it, but why did you have
to tell me about Brad Dellan and the Linders?”
Martin's guy had been around since the prior Wednesday and I hadn't had any more
problems with „pants on fire.'
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Martin laughed mightily into the phone. “Damnit! Because you asked…you have always
been curious about what kind of organization you are linked to the hip. We are a drug cartel, after
all, and we don't play nice in the sandbox.”
Now that was the understatement of the century.
“Dad, you down there?” Charlie shouted from upstairs. “Jamie Lyons is on the phone for
you.”
Jamie Lyons was a low A list actor who was in his late 20s and starting to get some really
big roles over the past year. He could not quite yet headline a movie, but Jamie was being seen as
the next big action star. He was well received opposite Maggie Lewis in Survivor, a movie set in 2055 after a nuclear explosion. Survivor grossed over $400 million in North America as Jamie's career hit a new level. He could now command $9-12 million per picture and was filming an
untitled blockbuster due Christmas, 2003.
Jamie had only been a client for eighteen months and I hadn't the foggiest idea why he
would be calling me at home on a weeknight. The Vegas line pointed to bad news for me,
however.
I said my goodbye to Martin and grabbed the handset from the basement landline.
“Hello, Jamie, what can I do for you?” I asked, not wanting to come out firing with the
„why the hell are you calling me at home' question.
There was an awkward pause on the line but I swore I heard a woman in the background.
“Peter, I need to take out my money, all of it….I'm buying a house,” Jamie blurted.
I didn't have the exact number, but knew it was around $12 million that Jamie had with
me. At least that's what I believed his last statement showed. I was kind of hoping that he would
send me a few more million this year, now that he was making the obscene Hollywood bucks.
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“Okay…Jamie, shouldn't you have Dan Hale handle this for you, maybe tomorrow
morning when I'm in the office?”
“Oh, I fired Dan's ass this afternoon,” Jamie replied. “I'm handling everything now.”
I had already figured that Martin had my home phone lines tapped in addition to my
office lines, so I was sure he would hear this conversation at some point in the next 24 hours. I
had to be careful in order to not motivate the cartel into wanting to go off and kill Jamie Lyons
for pulling his money out of the firm.
“Alright then, I will tally up the exact amount you have with PLH as of today's market
movement and give you a ring tomorrow,” I told Jamie.
I certainly didn't want to press Jamie as to why he fired his attorney of several years, and
he didn't sound as if he was going to offer that information up anyway.
“Sounds good, my man,” Jamie said. “And you're being real decent about this…I mean, I
know the stock market sucks right now and you probably don't want to part with the cash…”
He was starting to yammer away so I figured he could easily warp into a statement ripe
for being misconstrued by my cartel friends. I decided to cut him off.
“Jamie, I gotta run, but I will call you tomorrow morning from the office.”
“Okay, dude, Ciao!”
I leaned back in the basement sofa I had sunken into, and wondered just how many hand
holdings with my clients I would have to do in the future. All because I was so worried about
what the cartel would think. No one had taken money out of the firm since Julio came on board,
so this was going to be heavily scrutinized. Best of luck to Jamie Lyons, but if the news reported
how an ice pick found its way into Jamie's forehead, I would know that Julio had been a bad boy.
My cell phone began ringing and it startled the heck out of me.
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“Peter, Martin,” Julio's point man told me to start what I presumed to be yet another
unhealthy and stressful conversation.
“Uh huh, what's up?”
“Julio is coming to town the night of January 15th and will be in New York for a few
days. He wants to meet you the afternoon of the 16th.”
“Does he always plan things out so far in advance?”
I couldn't say that I was terribly surprised by that, because if the cartel was anything,
besides being scaldingly ruthless, it was obsessively organized in all that it did.
“Yes, and simply listen….I'm not in the mood for your snarky comments,” Martin stated
firmly.
“Okay, okay,” I replied. “I don't think I have anything on the calendar on that day, but I
will check first thing tomorrow and block that entire week off if I have to.”
Crap, I'd call it a month if that would make Julio happy. Sitting there in the couch before
Martin phoned back, the thought of Julio someday finding a more suitable money launderer
haunted my frontal lobe.
I decided not to tell Martin about the Jamie Lyons money withdrawal right then – it could
wait until morning – or maybe I just never mention it at all. And this Julio news was big. Could I
somehow use this Julio travel information to my advantage?
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Tuesday, November 12th
8:20 a.m.