Dead Fit - 28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

When I arrived home, I did a quick sweep of all the rooms to be sure Todd hadn’t visited me while I was away. Nothing looked disturbed and I didn't get any vibes my personal space had been violated since last I was home. I ran back to the front door and double checked that the door was locked, then went to my room to start my work.

There were two things I wanted to get done before going to bed. The first was to call Sandy to see if Todd's name was familiar from her time as an SEC investigator. The second thing was to find an online website that conducted background checks, one of those sites used by obsessive parents to research babysitters and nannies.

I looked at the clock on my cell phone. It was just minutes after seven. I had all night to find an online background investigation service. The more urgent matter was to get a hold of Sandy before it became too late to call her.

I dialed the cell number Sandy left me.

“Wow, Jaysen, I didn't think you would actually call me so soon to meet up for drinks.”

Damn, Sandy had a good memory.

“Actually, that’s not why I’m calling, Sandy. I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a pickle and I need to pick your brain.”

“Does this have anything to do with the conversation we had the other day about front running?”

“How did you guess?”

Sandy laughed. “For as long as I can remember, Jaysen, you had no interest in finance and investments. On top of that, you could never keep your own money straight and always had to borrow lunch money from me. I didn’t quite buy it when you said you were researching your parents’ financial advisor.”

“Alright, so I’m not researching financial advisors for my parents. But I'm doing a little research for me. I know you no longer work for the SEC, but can you tell me if you recall ever running across the name of Todd Evans as someone who was possibly defrauding investors?”

Sandy muttered his name a few times to herself, then said, “No, Jaysen, the name doesn't ring a bell. I've been away from that scene for a while now. If it's really important to you, I could call a few friends I still have at the SEC. Maybe they've heard of him, but I won't be able to do that until tomorrow morning at the very earliest.”

That was a dead end. While I had her on the phone, I thought it wouldn't hurt to see if she had any ideas about what kind of crime Todd was committing. I relayed the information Derek had given me and I told her about the results, or lack thereof, of my own research. I stopped short of telling her about the smartphone and the exchange I was going to make with Todd on Monday. It didn’t seem relevant to how she could possibly help.

“Just based on what I told you, Sandy, can you guess what kind of crime Todd is committing?”

“The first thing that pops in my mind is that you’re jumping to conclusions. If your officer friend told you that Todd is under investigation for illegal investment activities, that’s a pretty broad description. You just happened to stumble on Ponzi schemes and front-running, which are, admittedly, two of the more common crimes in the world of finance.

“Now, since you’ve gone to all this trouble conducting your own research, let me just address what you've found. You’re right in saying that if Todd was involved with Ponzi schemes, he would need to have a steady supply of new investors, big or small. And, since you and your friend found out he’s not interested in taking on a new, high net worth client, he's probably not running a ponzi scheme. So, statistically speaking, if someone isn't defrauding people through a ponzi scheme, the next logical possibility, coming from a former-SEC investigator standpoint, is that he could be engaging in front-running.”

I felt somewhat vindicated by what Sandy was telling me – all of the research I conducted led me to suspect Todd was front-running. And now a professional was agreeing with my assessment.

Sandy paused and then continued, “Let me give you something to think about that came to my mind as we were talking. It seems absurd to me the SEC would ask the police to get involved with a matter this small. The SEC can easily handle an investigation like this on their own. Which makes me think that, maybe, Todd isn't the one the police are really after."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's think this through logically."

Sandy and her damn accounting logic.

“If Todd is front-running with the assistance of a third-party and the two are splitting the ill-gotten gains, neither one of them could be making too much money. Like I mentioned to you before, it could only supplement someone’s income, not be the primary source. It seems like the police would be spending a lot of their resources on a small fish.

"But now let's say that this third-party is the real criminal the police are investigating. This third-party may be working with ten, twenty, maybe a hundred other financial advisors. Now you're talking about a lot more cash, involving a lot more people. That I can see worthy of the SEC asking the police for assistance.”

Something Sandy said hit a hot button for me. Maybe Todd wasn't the criminal the police were truly investigating, like Sandy suggested. Maybe Derek lied to me to protect the true nature of the investigation. Like Brian told me, Todd was the one who introduced Brian to his network of friends. Maybe it was someone in this network that was really under investigation. It would very well be someone I met at Brian's party. That's why Derek wanted me to stay away from anyone who had anything to do with Todd.

I needed to find out more, so I asked Sandy, “What would this third-party look like? I mean, is it a person, a business, what?”

“Well, just off the cuff, this third-party is probably a person who owns a business.”

“Why,” I asked, interrupting Sandy's train of thought.

“The person needs someplace to funnel the money through and a business is the perfect cover. Probably a small business, owned just by one person. Less people involved means less chance of getting discovered,” she explained.

“That makes sense. Anyway, you were saying?”

Sandy continued, “In my experience as an investigator, someone who engages in front-running often has the outwardly appearance of being put together very well, successful, respected in the community. But personality wise, he or she can be extremely aggressive in certain situations. A risk taker, willing to go to extremes to get what he or she wants, and often without regard to other people. Because the person is doing something illegal, his or her emotions are always teetering, kind of like a child who has done something wrong and is just waiting for mom and dad to find out. Hence, it's easy for the person to display random fits of anger...”

I tuned Sandy out for a few seconds while I let her description sink in; someone who is put together on the outside, but may be teetering on the inside. Can be aggressive to get what he wants.

“Jaysen? Are you still there?”

“Yea, sorry, Sandy, I’m still here. Keep going,” I said.

“He or she probably has an extensive network of friends in the finance industry. And I would guess that personal relationships among this network are pretty high.”

“Why?”

“Well, first off, anytime you have a partner in crime, you’d better be sure you know that person pretty well. You don’t want someone panicking and ratting on you when the first sign of trouble appears. Right?”

“Right,” I said.

“And second, if the parties are splitting the proceeds, the financial advisor, to some extent, has to really trust that the third-party is going to give a 50/50 split. There’s going to be no formal record keeping system, or else that leaves a potential track record should they ever get caught. The success of working with a third-party when it comes to front-running ultimately relies on a close network of friends who trust one another.”

Everything Sandy was saying seemed to suggest one thing. Combined with my own discoveries, all arrows seemed to be pointing in one direction. But for some reason, I had a mental block and wasn’t able to draw any conclusions from all of this.

Sandy continued, “Maybe it's none of my business, Jaysen, but now that I know more about what's going on, I’m starting to think you’re getting in over your head. I mean, maybe this Todd Evans really is who the police are going after, but maybe not for the reason you think. Maybe he's some kind of homicidal killer, who just happens to engage in illegal investment activities.”

Sandy's suggestion made me smile. Todd Evans: financial advisor by day, trained assassin by night.

“Or maybe it’s even heavier than that, Jaysen. Maybe the police are involved because it’s an entire ring of criminal activity and at the center of all this is a front-running scheme that caught their attention. Either way, it’s not something that you should be getting involved with. My vote is that you take advice from your officer friend and keep Todd at a safe distance.”

A little late for that advice now.

I desperately wanted to get Sandy off the phone. She was saying too much and it was hurting my head. I needed time to digest her words. It was like childhood when I would shove spoonfuls of vegetables in my mouth, trying to hurry past the broccoli and carrots so I could move on to ice cream and brownies. But inevitably, I’d have to swallow the disgusting mix before being rewarded with dessert. Here I was collecting all of this bitter tasting information, but unable to digest what I had accumulated.

I lied to Sandy to get her off the phone. “You’re right, Sandy. I think I’ll let the police handle this. I’ll talk to you later, okay? And thanks for all of your help.”

“Alright, Jaysen, take care of yourself. Goodnight.” I could tell she didn’t believe me. Sandy was just too sweet to press the matter with me.

While I appreciated the conversation I had with Sandy, it was also extremely frustrating. I was no closer to figuring out what Todd was doing, even though the answer was probably right in front of my face.

It was time for me to get to my second task. Maybe the online background investigation website could pull up criminal information on Todd. Perhaps he had a record with a County court, or he was a registered sex offender. Who knows? If he did have anything, a background report would spoon-feed me the information. I wouldn't have to ask a bunch of questions and try to muddle through the answers like I did in my conversation with Sandy.

While I waited for my computer to boot up, I pulled the smartphone one more time from my backpack. I played with the phone and smiled at the irony of the situation. The one thing that had all the answers to my questions was in my hands, and yet I couldn't figure out how to access the information. By this time tomorrow, Todd would have his phone back.

I turned the phone over a few times, noting how remarkably light it was when it didn't have a battery. Just then, something caught my eye. The body of the phone was entirely black and grey. But on the side of the phone was a thin sliver of blue, which didn’t seem to match the color scheme of the smartphone.

I pushed on the blue and out popped a memory card. How clever. It had been sitting in this phone the whole time, safely tucked away into its own little compartment, hidden from my inquiring mind. I gently pulled out the card and stared at it. Could this flimsy piece of plastic provide me with any answers?

The logical part of my brain tried to hypothesize how Todd became separated from his memory card. When Todd’s phone died, he probably tried to get it fixed. But when he learned the motherboard was shot and couldn’t be repaired, he was willing to donate the phone. In the process, he forgot to take out the memory card. Finders keepers, losers weepers.

No wonder Todd was so calm when I lied to him, telling him a friend of mine was copying the contents of the motherboard. He knew the motherboard was fried. He knew there was no way the contents could be copied, but he went along with my lie.

I inserted the card into my computer's memory reader. A new window popped open revealing the content of the card: a single Excel Spreadsheet file titled, "Mind Your Own Business." Not very friendly, if you ask me.

As a kid, I liked to stay in between the lines when I colored, a trait that manifested itself as a rule-follower rather than a rule-breaker in my adolescent and adult years. But, in rare instances when I felt backed into a corner with limited options, my whole demeanor could take a radical shift. This was one of those times.

Skipping the ethical deliberation of invading Todd’s privacy, I double clicked on the icon to open the file. A new screen opened letting me know the file was password protected. Damn.

I tried todd, evans, toddevans, tevans, todde, and so on, until I hit just about every variation using Todd's first and last name. Access denied.

I tried his cell number, first all ten digits, then seven digits, then the last four digits. I tried his business address and postal code. I calculated his year of birth and tried that, too. For good measure, I punched in the year he and Brian started dating, then the year they broke up. Access still denied.

On a whim, I entered the five-digit code to the security gate at Brian's condo. Voila. The file opened.

It was a bittersweet moment for me. On one hand, I was thrilled I could finally discover why retrieving the smartphone was so important to Todd. I wondered what sordid and incriminating information I would find in this spreadsheet.

On the other hand, I had a bad feeling about the significance of Todd using Brian's five-digit security code as his password. They had broken up over a year ago. Why would he still use that code as his password?

The Excel Spreadsheet consisted of a bunch of names and numbers. There was no title, header, or footer. There were no obvious clues telling me what kind of report I was looking at. I'd have to use my deductive reasoning skills to try to figure it out. Uh oh. This was going to take a while.

The first column of the spreadsheet was labeled, “TRANSCATION DATE,” and appeared to be sorted with the most recent date at the top. It looked like this spreadsheet was last used a little over a month ago.

The second column was labeled, “NAME,” with last name, followed by first name. I eye-balled the second column to see if anyone popped out. I saw Todd’s name appear several times, with varying transaction dates.

A few other names rang a bell. Mark DeMars. Lynnette Bender. Daniel Chung. Didn't I meet these people at Brian's party? Just like Todd’s entries, these people appeared multiple times on the spreadsheet, with some transactions occurring very recently, other transactions occurring over a year ago. There must have been at least thirty-five different names, maybe even fifty.

The third column contained dollar figures and a quick scan revealed numbers that ranged from a few hundred to just a hair over ten thousand. A fourth column had dollar figures, too, but the numbers here were exactly half of the numbers in the third column.

It was the final column that was most perplexing. The column was titled, “PROCEEDS,” and listed various cross streets throughout Long Beach.

Reading the entries in the final column gave me a strong sense of déjà vu.

4th & Cherry, Atlantic & South, Anaheim & Pacific, Broadway & Magnolia.

All of the cross streets were located in Long Beach and all had some significance to each other, but their relationship was stored somewhere deep in my memory.

Del Amo & Long Beach Boulevard, PCH & Willow.

None of the cross streets were in desirable areas of Long Beach. In fact, some of them were in downright scary areas. I was struggling to access the information when it suddenly hit me. I realized with certainty what I was looking at and a chill went down my spine. These cross streets were all locations of Brian's commercial properties. On one of our dates, he had given me a tour of his properties. I had even commented on their less-than-desirable location.

The dots began to connect, slowly at first. Derek told me Todd was under investigation for financial crimes, but nothing I could dig up on Todd was indicative that he was scamming his clients. I wanted him to be guilty, but not matter what I tried, I couldn’t figure out what he was guilty of doing.

More dots connected. The first time I spoke to Sandy, she suggested the possible role of a third-party in a financial scam. A financial advisor could front-run and go undetected, if he partnered with someone else to execute the transaction.

Then, earlier in the day, when I made arrangements with Todd to return his smartphone to him in exchange for him staying away from Brian, he said to me that I was about to bring the worst out in a person with my games. I thought he was referring himself, that I was going to drive out some kind of monster in him. But in retrospect, he was speaking about someone else.

The dots were connecting quicker and the picture was becoming clearer. When I spoke with Sandy tonight, she hypothesized that the Long Beach Police Department might not actually be investigating Todd like Derek had led me to believe. Rather, they were after a third-party who was front-running with a ring of financial advisors.

Sandy described the third-party as someone well-connected in the financial community and likely to have some kind of business front to funnel the money. The person probably was put together well on the outside, but teetering on the inside, occasionally displaying random fits of anger. The third-party was a risk-taker, driven to get what he wants. The description she provided was only a partial match for Todd's personality.

But it was a dead fit for Brian.

The smartphone and memory card didn't belong to Todd, they belonged to Brian. The spreadsheet was Brian's record keeping system, helping him keep straight his stock trades and who he needed to split the proceeds with. The last column was for his personal use; how he would account for the income. Just like Sandy said, there would be no formal record keeping system, or else a paper trail would be left behind as evidence. In my hot little hands was the strongest evidence the Police Department was going to get to investigate charges of investment fraud.

I gave myself a slap on the head. I had spent so much time keeping three discoveries separate. Discovery one was Todd’s involvement in illegal financial activity. Discovery two was Brian’s previous relationship with Todd. Discovery three was Brian's unhealthy obsession with accruing wealth, all to prove his father wrong. While I invested so much energy into researching the three matters separately, at no point did I think they were actually intertwined.

Now it all made sense. Derek really didn’t lie to me when he said Todd was under investigation for financial crimes – he really was doing some illegal. And so was everyone else whose name appeared on the spreadsheet. They were all front-running, using Brian as the third-party to execute the trades. Each of them saw this as an opportunity to supplement their income. Brian saw this as an opportunity to make more money, getting him closer to the financial success that would win his father’s approval.

A little pang of guilt shot through me. Originally, I accused Todd for all of the bizarre happenings associated with the phone. I assumed Todd was the one who tried to buy back the phone from the Thrift Shop and when that didn't work, he burglarized the place. But maybe it was Brian who was behind all of it.

I did know for a fact, though, that Todd impersonated a police officer. And it seemed likely that he also broke into my house, since the two times it happened Brian was with me.

Was Todd willing to be Brian's pawn because he knew his name was on the spreadsheet and if it was ever discovered, he would be implicated, too? Or was he doing all of this because he was still in love with Brian and would do anything to get him back?

I was so focused on those thoughts that I didn’t even hear the car door close in my driveway, nor did I hear footsteps on my porch. It wasn’t until I heard a knock on my door that I emerged from my deep contemplation. Who was visiting me at this hour?

The knocking continued, sounding angrier than before. I was pretty sure it wasn't the Girl Scouts trying to sell me cookies.