Grand Lac by Carl Brookins

Author:Carl Brookins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, mystery, civic corruption, mountain territory, professional detectives
Publisher: Carl Brookins

CHAPTER 21

Lockem decided to call on Sam Black. He knew from experience that the incarcerated man’s lack of on-going information often led to intense frustration and he wanted to keep his client in the loop as much as possible. The jail routine was fairly flexible, so Lockem only had to wait a short while before the accused was brought to the interview room. This room was smaller and in a corner of the oldest part of the building. Two of the outside walls were painted stone. Lockem made no effort to conceal his examination of the room for hidden cameras or listening devices. He found none.

“Sam,” he said, extending his hand. “How are they treating you?”

“’Bout the same as before. What’s the news?”

“I think we can safely talk here. I want you to tell me about your business.”

“You mean my stock trading business?”

“That’s the one. I went to your apartment and I have some questions. Until you were arrested how were you doing?”

“Actually, pretty well. My client list was growing, my income was up. Second year in a row.”

“It appears you haven’t registered with the SEC. Isn’t that a requirement?”

“I, well, I hadn’t got around to it. Things are pretty casual and part-time, you know?”

“I get that. How much money do you figure you skimmed last year?”

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t have time to do a dance here. I’m pretty sure you haven’t killed anyone, but it looks like you have been stealing from your clients.” Black’s jaw tensed and he half rose from his chair. He glanced over his shoulder at the guard on the other side of the glass wall and then subsided.

“Look. I’ve been an investor in the markets. I have some basic understanding of the way things are. I know it’s pretty easy to steal from clients if that’s your game.”

“Easy?” Sam Black grimaced. “It’s almost harder not to. I’m not actually stealing, I’m just overcharging some people who can afford it. Double fees, a little bit of stock churning, buying and selling between two clients so I get the fees at each end. It’s all very low key and low risk. Least it was. The whole market is really just a license to steal.”

“How much?”

“Excuse me?”

Lockem leaned forward in his hard wooden chair. “How much are you stealing? Rough estimate will do.”

Black sighed, fidgeted. To Lockem, he appeared hesitant, reluctant to answer. Were there facts he wanted to keep hidden? “The big traders, hedge fund managers, are making millions. I probably cleared an extra five grand last year. I don’t make exorbitant claims of big returns. When somebody asks I never promise really high returns. I don’t want the agro if it doesn’t always work out. Look, Mr. Lockem. I know I’m stealing but these people can afford it. They have no idea…”

“You’re smart. I’ll give you that. You aren’t vulnerable to a black swan event.”

Black looked across the table at Lockem. “You know about things like that? Bernie Madoff in New York and Tom Petters in Minneapolis.

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