Dead Fit - 30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Over the next hour, what seemed like a ton of police officers arrived at the pier. No wonder why taxes were so high; it took a few dozen officers to secure a crime scene. A team hauled spotlights that illuminated the Pier and the surrounding beach, turning the night into day. Some officers took photographs; others scoured the pier and the paved trail for evidence. Brian and Todd were nowhere insight. I assumed they had been properly mirandized and hauled off to the station for questioning.

A young female officer saw me sitting alone, leaning against the side of the bait and tackle shop. I must have looked miserable, because she came over and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. I'm not quite sure if I remembered to thank her for being thoughtful, but I hoped I did. Being the victim of a crime was no excuse for poor manners. Finally, Derek arrived at the scene and sat down next to me. Two officers hovered over us.

“We need to take you to the Downtown Station for some questions, Marshall. We'll try to keep it short. Detectives Serna and Smith will drive you and I'll meet you there.”

I rode in the back of the squad car. A thick plastic partition separated me from my escorts, making me feel more like the victimizer than the victim. When we arrived at the Station, I desperately wanted to ask if I could just go home for the night, promising to return in the morning to answer all of their questions. But I also wanted to clear my name as soon as possible.

The detectives took me to a conference room and sat me down next to Derek. Serna asked the questions, while Smith took notes. It was nothing like television. No accusations, no finger pointing – just straightforward questions.

When I got to the part in my story where I learned Todd and Brian were really after the memory card and not the smartphone, I remembered the card was still in my sock. I reached down to pull it out and the two detectives instinctively went for their guns. It might have been a funny moment, except my nerves were still rattled from my previous encounter with a gun. I handed the memory card to Detective Serna, who held it by the edges to avoid the sweat left by my feet.

It was well past midnight by the time the detectives were through with me. Derek offered to drive me home. I accepted his offer, not wanting to call anyone else at this hour of the night to come pick me up. Besides, how would I possibly explain what I was doing at the Police Station?

While Derek drove, he voluntarily filled me in on the situation.

"The investigation is still going on, Marshall, so I have to be careful what I say. But I'll tell you what I can. About a year ago, the SEC was tipped off from a credible source that there was a ring of financial advisors in the Los Angeles are who were front-running. After investigating the finances and tax returns of a few of the accused advisors, the SEC could see that these advisors were living above their means, but they could find no evidence of where the money was coming from. The SEC suspected that these advisors were working with some third-party, funneling the transactions through this third-party's account to avoid any paper trail, and splitting the ill-gotten gains.

“In investigating the accused advisors, the SEC found one document that raised some eyebrows. The document was, at best, circumstantial. But nonetheless, it gave the SEC ammunition to seek assistance from Long Beach Police.”

“Let me guess, the document belonged to Todd Evans,” I interrupted.

Derek bit his lip as though he was debating how much information to divulge. What he said next made me realize his hesitation wasn't so much a lack of trust, but of concern for my ego.

“Marshall, when the SEC investigated Todd, just like with the rest of the accused advisors, it was obvious his lifestyle was beyond the income he generated through his business. The SEC combed through his tax returns and found nothing suspicious. But in reviewing his financial statements, the SEC found one brokerage firm where he had a joint account.”

I tried to make it easier for Derek to tell me the truth, “I already know Todd and Brian dated, Derek. You don't need to hold back.”

“Todd and Brian had an account together. It was opened almost two years ago; the primary account holder was Brian, with Todd being the joint holder. They didn’t have the account together for very long. But it was open long enough to raise some eyebrows. When the SEC compared the transactions in their joint account with transactions Todd conducted for his clients, there was enough overlap, which suggested that Brian could very well be the third-party.”

It made sense. Todd and Brian probably opened a joint brokerage account while they were still together. That’s when Brian learned about front-running and how to make a few extra bucks. When they broke up, they closed their joint account. But Brian continued front-running with Todd, eventually expanding his crime to a larger circle of financial advisors.

“Why didn’t the SEC just pull Brian’s finances? Wouldn’t that have confirmed their suspicion?”

“They had no reason to investigate Brian. Unlike Todd, Brian doesn’t work in the securities industry. He’s not registered with the SEC, so they have no authority to probe his financial life,” he explained.

Derek still hadn't addressed his role in the SEC's investigation. “How are you involved in all of this,” I asked.

“About the time you met Brian, the SEC requested assistance in investigating their suspicion. Matters like this are out of our jurisdiction - local government agencies do not deal with securities fraud. Except...”

“Except?”

“Except when the matter may involve other crimes. When the SEC contacted us, they were vague about the role of the third-party. Besides being involved with front-running, the SEC couldn't tell us with certainty that anything else illegal was going on. But the SEC was very persuasive in helping us see that a third-party would have to have a business front of some sort to pass money through. A business front would be the best way to avoid drawing attention. And, of course, where there's a business front, there's the potential for other illegal activities.”

“Like selling narcotics,” I asked.

“Yea, like drugs. But don't stop there – prostitution, counterfeit brand name jeans and purses, copyright infringement of software and DVD's, and so on. All of that certainly captured the interest of LBPD.”

"Do you know if Brian was involved in anything else illegal?"

"We don't know yet. This is our first big break. Now that we can formally charge him with a crime, we can take a closer examination at the rest of his life."

My eyes were feeling heavy and it was becoming difficult to carry on with the conversation. But even in my haze, something was still troubling me.

"So let me get this straight. When you first got in touch with me for lunch, you already knew my life could be in danger?”

“For the record, I got in touch with you because I honestly wanted to catch up with you. I figured since you were no longer in school, you’d have a little more free time,” Derek said.

He could see his explanation wasn't adequate enough for me, so he continued babbling, “My Sergeant is leading the investigation on Brian and he assigned me to investigate Todd. The first time I realized the Brian you were dating was the same Brian my Sergeant was investigating was when the three of you were at Q’s Lounge together. I happened to be there that night because I wanted to see what kind of company Todd keeps. Even after I saw you with those two, I still couldn’t figure out your relationship to them. It wasn’t until I saw Brian put his hand on your leg that I pieced it together.

“You were never in any serious danger. The day you called me to report that Todd was responsible for the break-in at St. Theresa's and that the break-in was tied to our investigation, I figured things were starting to unravel. You didn’t give me much information, but I suspected Todd and Brian were starting to take measures to cover their tracks. I was worried things might get dangerous, so I asked that a plainclothes officer shadow Brian to make sure you were alright.”

“A lot of good that did me tonight. Where was the undercover cop when Brian and Todd broke into my house,” I asked.

“Give us a break, Marshall. Brian and Todd were together this afternoon at Todd's condo. The undercover was there, too, keeping his eye on Brian. But they used Todd's car to go to your house, and it took a little while for the undercover to realize they had left.”

So it was true, Brian and Todd spent the afternoon together.

Derek continued, “When he finally figured out they were gone, the undercover called me right away and I went straight to your parent's house. I saw the broken glass from your front door and I knew something was seriously wrong. I called every available unit. We did the best we could to trace your steps. It wasn't easy, Marshall. You gotta cut me some slack.”

Derek pulled up in the driveway behind my Civic. He put the patrol car in park.

“Are you sure you don't want to sleep over at my place? Your front door has no glass.”

“I think I'll take my chances here. I seem to have better luck when I look out for myself.” My comment seemed to really hurt Derek and I was glad.

“Marshall, can we just start over again? Can we just pretend the last few weeks never happened?”

I was too exhausted to deal with his suggestion. I thanked him for the ride home, got out of the car, and slammed the car door behind me without bothering to respond. He waited in my drive way for a few minutes, and then drove off.

I walked into my house and headed straight for the bathroom. I took a long, warm shower. When I was through, I did a walk through of my house, just to be sure no one was lurking in a closet or under a bed. I poked my head out the front door, which was now much easier to do without glass panes, to see if anyone was sitting in a car, watching my every move.

When I felt reasonably confident that no killer was in my house ready to pounce, no plain clothes officer was sitting outside my house in an unmarked car watching, no boyfriend ready to whisper lies in my ear, I laid down in my bed.

I was exhausted and desperately needed sleep. But I couldn't turn off the little voice in my head. It kept asking one question, over and over, waiting for a response.

“Was he ever really interested in you,” it asked, at times shouting at me, demanding an answer.

When I resolved in my mind I didn’t want to know the answer to the question, I fell asleep.