X - Chapter Thirty "The Thirty Percent Solution"

 

"The Thirty Percent Solution" 

Chapter Thirty 

      Special Agent Vince DuBois was in a jam. He knew that he had to tell his friend and law-enforcement colleague Detective Rafael Jimenez about an important development. Sure, DuBois knew he could simply pick up his phone and drop the news on him, and then the deed would be done. But is that what you do to a friend? A friend should share important news in person, to be at Raf’s side to explain, comfort and consider what action to take. 

      DuBois decided to do the right thing, which would involve getting from his office in FBI New York headquarters in the Javits building way downtown in Tribeca all the way up to the NYPD’s 17th Precinct on 51st Street in Midtown. 

      DuBois ordered a vehicle, and the trip took less than fifteen minutes. DuBois found Jimenez in the precinct’s glass enclosure, which had become the police detective’s unofficial office. 

      As soon as Jimenez saw his friend standing in the enclosure’s doorway, Jimenez rose and smiled. “To what do I owe this honor?” he said.  

      Still standing, DuBois blurted it out: “I gotta tell you something. Our case against Gordy isn’t looking good. There’s some news.” 

      DuBois didn’t move, but waited a few seconds. 

      Then, he said: “I got a telephone call from that writer guy, Mike Stein. Gordy’s girlfriend, that blonde, Ermira Bajrami, she called Mike. She saw the newspaper. She told him that Gordy was with her the night of May 13th. She said they were in a condo he bought just to be with her. Tough life, huh? Mike said she sounded like she was telling the truth. Mike said she’s ready to talk with us, and she’d even testify.” 

      “Why the fuck didn’t he, Gordy, tell us that?” Jimenez shouted. “I asked him where he was, and he kept saying that he went home. All he had to do was tell us that. Now look where we are. I’d say shit’s creek’s not far. Why didn’t he say anything?”

      “Look, who knows?” DuBois said. “If I had to guess, I’d say she probably has some immigration issues. I’d bet Gordy didn’t want to fuck her up with the immigration boys, and he probably didn’t want word to get back to his wife. Maybe he’s an honorable Casanova, who knows?”

      “I’m not drawing any conclusions, not yet,” Jimenez said. “But there’s a good chance I really fucked up big time! My God, I put that guy, that Gordon Hope, through hell! I rushed it, I pushed too hard. Maybe, he would’ve gotten off, sure, but anyway he was processed, and he went to jail. Jesus!” 

      “No, if somebody fucked up, we fucked up,” said DuBois. “And if we fucked up, we’re gonna pull it outta the fire. We’re gonna make it right. We’re partners, and we discussed everything. I failed because I couldn’t convince you to give it a little more time.”

      “Yeah, we’re partners,” said Jimenez. “And I failed you because I wouldn’t listen to you. There was pressure from above, there always is. And I’m an excitable, impatient kinda guy. And, now, we gotta dig our way out.” 

      “And dig our way out we will,” said DuBois, in a calming voice. “I think I didn’t fight you hard enough, because maybe, in the back of my mind, I was worried about my funding getting cut. But we’re gonna make things right.” 

      Jimenez seemed to be recovering a little. “Since this is show and tell day, I gotta tell you something. You know, Sargent Barnes. He’s kinda a ballsy idea man. Anyway, he did a surveillance on that cocky lawyer from Winshire, Grant Stauffer. He followed that guy all the way down to Greenwich Village, the Café Figaro to be exact. 

      “And guess who he met there,” Jimenez continued. “How about Steve Bucknell? Stauffer gave Bucknell a little package, and Barnsey overheard Stauffer say some interesting stuff, unfortunately interesting but vague. Stuff like they ‘gotta stick to’ something, or they can’t let other folks ‘see’ something because that’d ‘be very bad.’

      “To be real frank, Barnesy doesn’t like the guy, ” Jimenez said. “But it sure sounds like Stauffer, and maybe Bucknell,   . . .  Somebody’s up to something.” 

      DuBois raised his arms and put both hands high in the air. “Com’on. You see, it’s not all that bad. We’ve done a lot of work. We got stuff going for us, and a lot of folks, good folks are working for us. Let’s see what else we can do.”

      “Yeah,” Jimenez groused. “Yeah, sure. Now, I gotta call to make, and I’m sure I’m not gonna like the sounds I hear when I lay all this out to him. I’m gonna have to call the assistant D.A., and explain to him why I missed the bucket when I told him this case was a sure slam-dunk. But hey, one thing, what about the new boss, the guy from California? I bet he’d . . . ”

      “You’re talking about William Voldman, the new President and CEO, sure.”

      Jimenez looked like he was coming out of his funk. “Let’s get him in here. Jesus, he’s just a few blocks from us, right here. Who knows what he’ll say. He oughtta know something. I’ll get him here.” 

-0-

      The number of uniformed officers, detectives and visitors at the 17th Precinct had increased with the passage of time, and the noise level along with it. Now it seemed every passerby felt the obligation to slow down and glance into the glass enclosure.  

      Bill Voldman sat at the table, looking across at the two detectives, Jimenez and DuBois. In front of him on the table, was a thick manila envelope. 

      “Gentlemen,” Voldman said slowly, “before I start answering your questions, I’d like to tell you I’ll help your investigation any way I can. You see that I’m here without our chief counsel, Mr. Stauffer. That’s so our conversation can be more . . .  down to earth.”

      Jimenez and DuBois were listening carefully, but their eyes were glued to the large envelope.

      “See you noticed I brought something with me. I think it might be useful.” Voldman pushed the envelope across the table toward the two lawmen.  

      Jimenez and DuBois didn’t wait. DuBois carefully opened the envelope and extracted two documents. 

      “Let me explain,” Voldman said. “You know, Dorothy Reynolds has been with Winshire since the beginning, maybe to the day when Ted Merritt became the president. No matter what kind of a devil someone is, you – anyone – can develop a certain loyalty.” 

      DuBois and Jimenez started examining the two documents. 

      “Dorothy, she wants to do the right thing,” Voldman continued. “She realizes that these texts could be important. She had a policy over the years, everything that seemed important, she had a special file for them. Now, the documents: The one, ‘Hyper-Intervention, by G. Gordon Hope’ is a serious business proposal intended for Ted to consider for Winshire. It’s a good strategy proposal, I know because I wrote it. Gordy asked me for help, and I helped him.”

      Bill paused to give the two detectives time to scan the first document. Then, he continued. “The other one, ‘Thirty Percent Solution: Maximizing Client Fee Charges, by Steven Bucknell,’ is the one that got this whole circus .  . .  blowing up. Bucknell wrote it for Ted Merritt, and I heard about it through the grapevine; you know, a lot of the old Winshire partners like me share info and rumors. Ted had asked some of the old partners to look at it, and Grant Stauffer was studying it for Ted. I believe Grant didn’t want anyone, outside of a few people, to know he was already starting to work on it. When I first heard of ‘Thirty Percent,’ I was in California. The proposal . . . it upset me a lot; frankly, it pissed me off. One evening, I did something stupid. I was having a few drinks with an old friend, and I talked too much. I just had to get it off my chest. That old friend just happens to be the Assistant U.S. Attorney in San Jose. The whole thing exploded, and that’s why you, Agent DuBois, got drawn into this adventure.”  

      Bill stopped, now more relaxed than he was when he had arrived. DuBois and Jimenez remained silent; they were processing the implications of the two separate documents. 

      Jimenez was the first to speak. “When I interviewed Gordy, when I asked him if he proposed a new program to Merritt, he just kinda said ‘Yeah, sure, I did.’ And now we see there are at least two proposals. This one, the one you wrote for Gordy, and it looks, . . . We haven’t studied it, but it looks okay. And that’s the one Gordy proposed to Merritt. And another one that you say pisses you off, and I guess we assume it wasn’t exactly legal. So, we ask you, what can we assume about that?”

      Bill waited before answering. When he spoke, it was obvious he chose his words carefully. “You gotta understand that I’m kinda outta my element. I’m not a police investigator. But you got the other proposal right there. The author’s name is right there. Now, I don’t know Steven Bucknell very well. He works here in New York, and       I’m way out there in California. But I’m just sure, while we’re talking, you’re thinking about revising your investigation, maybe thinking about different targets. And that’d be logical.”

      “Mr. Voldman,” Jimenez said. “Thank you. Really, very much. If you have some more time, we’d like to ask you just a few questions.”

      “Sure. I said I wanna help.”

      Jimenez started: “Do you think your chief counsel could be involved in this . . .  involved in the wrong way?”

      “Look, I’ve known the guy since the beginning,” Bill said. “He was brought on by Ted. Now, while I say that I’ve spent a lot of time with Grant, I can’t say that I really know him. He’s not the kind of guy that comes right out and tells you what he thinks. Frankly, he’s kinda secretive. My practice uses him a lot, you know, we’re called Technology, but we’re basically electronics. That involves a lot of programming, algorithms, that kind of thing. So, that’s a lot of patents. But he’s a plotter, he’s secretive, I always think he has a private agenda, to put it politely.”

      Bill waited a few minutes, but then thought he should explain. “And, I don’t wanna speak negatively about the departed, but Ted did cut a few corners. And Grant was there with him. It’s said that Grant was the fixer. But you know, I really don’t know too much; like I said, I’m way out there in California, in San Jose.”

      DuBois had a question. “What do you think of Mike Stein?” 

      Bill didn’t hesitate. “A very talented kid. He has a real talent for writing, but also, he’s smart as hell. He seizes on ideas, and he knows how to get the best from people he’s working with. But, and here I’m weighing my words, he’s honest. I believe he has a real sense of . . .  this word sounds old fashioned, but he has a real sense of morality.”

      The three men were silent. It was clear they all had enough for the time being. But Bill had one more comment to make. “You know, I was talking about Dorothy Reynolds,” he said. “She’s a very sensitive person. But she said if you want to talk with her, of course, that’s fine.”

      After the thank you’s were exchanged and the handshaking performed, Bill Voldman departed. 

      Then, Jimenez said, “My God, this ties a lot of stuff together, Stauffer, Bucknell and Merritt, for one thing.”

      “Yeah,” said DuBois. “The plot thickens. I told you, we’re making progress.”

      Jimenez said, “By the way, I talked with the assistant D.A. I think that will work out okay. Those charges against Gordon Hope, they’ll be dropped, and that poor guy, he’s gonna be released. But, we’re not done. We still don’t know who did what. We got more work ahead of us. And you know? We can’t take any credit. We didn’t do it. It’s almost luck.”

      “You know about luck, don’t you?” DuBois answered. “It’s the old saying. ‘The harder I work, the luckier I get.’ Well, we been working hard, can’t you say?”