Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1) (32 page)

Chapter
2
3

M
alcolm
’
s flight touched down in Vegas
at
10:00
a.m.
He deplaned
,
cleared the terminal
,
and looked around to see if the
Pantelli
s had sent a car
.
They hadn
’
t.
So
,
he
took a cab to the Comstock Casino.

The conc
i
erge
directed him to an office suite on the second floor of the casino. The name
-
plate on the door merely said
Private
.
Malcolm knocked and walked in.

A secretary
, who
could have passed for a show
-
girl
,
showed him into Al
Pantelli
’
s office. Al was behind his desk
,
and
his brother
,
Crispino
,
was seated on an adjacent sofa.

Al rose and came around his desk to shake Malcolm
’
s hand.

“
Malcolm, nice to meet ya. I
’
d like you to meet my brother
,
Crispino,
”
Al said, gesturing toward
his b
r
other
.

Malcolm took a step and shook hands with Crispino.

“
Please
,
call me
,
Pino
.
”

“
Have a seat, Malcolm,
”
Al said, pointing to the sofa.
“
Can I get you a drink?
”

“
No, nothing, thanks,
”
Malcolm said, taking a seat on the sofa opposite Pino.

“
So, Malcolm,
”
Pino said
,
“
m
y brother says we
have
similar interests in Montana Creek Mining. Especially an interest in the company
’
s shares.
”

“
Yes
,
and it
’
s the purpose of my visit today.
First
,
though,
I
’
d like to thank you both for agreeing to see me. I know you
’
re both busy men.
”

“
So what
’
s on your mind, Malcolm?
”
Al asked.

“
To be frank, getting our hands on the Montana Creek Mining shares held by Cyrus
McSweeny
’
s
offshore company, Carib International.
And getting your voting rights restored.
”

Al glanced at Pino
.
“
W
hy the hard
-
on for Cyrus?
”

“
The son of a bitch
has
ruined my reputation in Vancouver
. I
’
ve been
kicked o
f
f
Montana Creek
’
s
board of directors
, and to
add insult to injury,
he
didn
’
t even offer to split his short
-
sale profits with me. Profits, which without my help, he
’
d have never received.
”

“
I see,
”
Al replied, cutting a quick glance at Pino.

Pino got up and walked over to the bar
and
fixed himself
a fresh Bloody Mary
.

“
And how do you propose to get control of Cyrus
’
s shares
?
”
Al
asked.

“
I found out Cyrus paid someone in the assay lab for copies of Montana Creek
’
s core
-
assay results. Hell, he got the information before the CEO did
, l
et alone the shareholders.
A serious violation of insider trading laws
,
”
Malcolm replied.

Al and Pino
both
laughed
.

“
W
ell
,
w
hat about information you passed on to Cyrus about drilling operations?
”
Al asked.

“
My word against his. There
’
s no document trail, no hard evidence I actually passed
any
information to Cyrus.
”

“
I take it you
’
re talking about blackmail?
”
Pino asked.

Malcolm
took a breath and
looked at both men
;
he knew he was about to cross the line
, again
.
“
Yes. W
e tell Cyrus we
’
ll turn over our information to the SEC and the FBI if he doesn
’
t cooperate.
”

“
Hell, I know Cyrus,
”
Al said
,
“
I served time with him in a federal pen up in Oregon
. H
e
’
s not going to just turn his shares over to us.
”

“
I agree,
”
Malcolm replied
.
“
W
e offer to buy all the shares held by Carib at a discount to market
, and
he
agrees to
return your
voting
proxy.
”

“
And in return
,
we don
’
t turn him over the feds?
”
Al asked, looking hard at Malcolm.

“
Correct,
”
Malcolm replied.

Al looked at Pino
,
who was shaking his head and frowning.

“
I think I can give you our answer now, Malcolm
,
”
Al said
.
“
And the answer is
,
no fuckin
’
way. I want you to get back on a plane and get the
hell
out of Vegas before dark
,
or we
’
ll plant your sorry ass in the desert.
Capisce
?
”

Pino took Malcolm by the arm and escorted him to the door.

“
You see
,
Malcolm,
”
Pino said
,
“
t
he thing we hate more than anything
,
is a fuck
in
’
rat.
G
et your sorry ass back to Canada and you keep your mouth shut. Or
,
we
’
ll shut if for you
—
permanently
.
”

C
hapter
2
4

S
pecial Agent
Beau
Monroe
flew down to New Orleans
,
set up shop in the FBI offices on Leon C. Simon Boulevard
, and
started digging into the
Pantelli
crime family.
H
e
’
d managed to get a couple of
young agents
seconded to him
,
and he
put them to
work
looking at deaths of local underworld
characters in the past ten years.
Specifically, d
eaths
reported
ly
caused by
strokes or heart attacks.

It took ten days
,
but they found two deaths that fit the profile. Both
of the deceased
men
were
Pantelli
family
underlings and u
p to their ears in drugs and prostitution.
B
oth had
reportedly
died of
s
trokes
, but
no autopsies
had been performed.

One of the dead men had been cremated and his ashes scattered all over Bourbon Street.
However,
the other man
had been
entered in a crypt
in
one of New Orleans
’
s
historic
c
emeter
ies
. It took a bit of doing, but
Monroe
managed to get a
local
judge to sign a court order to open the crypt and
allow
a post
mortem autopsy.

At
10:00
a.m. a call came into
Monroe
from the medical examiner
’
s office.

“
Agent Monroe
,
speaking.
”

“
Agent Monroe,
Art Cline
,
at the ME
’
s office.
”

“
Yes
,
sir
. Any info for me?
”

“
Well,
yes
, but f
irst let me say that
without some idea of what we were looking for
,
we might have missed it.
”

“
Ne
uro
toxin?
”

“
Yes, and one we
’
ve never come across before.
The victim was killed by an organophosphate. Similar in composition to
an old pesticide from
the 1950
’s
.
A product called
OPP-D
. Is this what you were looking for?
”

“
Dead
-
solid perfect. Thanks
,
Doc.
”

“
So, we can repackage the deceased?
”

Monroe
laughed
.
“
Yes,
sir
.
Sew him up and stick him
back in his crypt.
”

Beau called Chief Inspector Rand
,
in Vancouver
,
and filled him in.

“
With the tree frog victim, this makes two cases where an exotic ne
urotox
in was used
,
”
Agent Monroe explained.
“
I think we
’
re
on
t
he Chemist
’
s
home turf
.
”

“
Good work, Agent Monroe. Good hunting
,
and please keep me posted,
”
Inspector Rand replied.

Monroe hung up, rounded up his
trusty secondees
,
and
commenced to shaking the trees.