The Promotion

Agent Jackson and her partner had buttonholed me in the Atlanta airport about a month ago when I was leaving on a business trip. They had been just sniffing around and pushing buttons. The Feds had some vague suspicion something was rotten at our firm but did not really know what.

Our money laundering schemes in the Caribbean were bullet proof and beyond their reach. And the schemes were ridiculously profitable; typically we were clearing 25 percent. On the down side, we did have to deal with some rather unsavory characters.

I answered confidently, "Agent Jackson, I helped develop the systems in which you are interested, and in my position I understand and have complete access to all of the relevant files and documents. I can lay it all out from A to Z. Our firm has multiple financial channels into Antigua, Aruba, St. Kitts, and St Maarten. Last year we laundered slightly over two hundred and sixteen million dollars through these channels for drug dealers and select individuals from Richmond to New Orleans. This year we are on track to exceed that. In addition, I can provide evidence of criminal tax fraud by David Thompson and at least seven of our clients." I added sarcastically, "Perhaps this would be something in which you might be interested?"

Agent Jackson's voice cracked with excitement now, "Yes Mr. Moore, we are certainly interested, very interested, providing you can really deliver the goods.

"Agent, I'm the small fry in this game; you want the big fish. I want immunity from prosecution obviously, and I must have witness protection for my safety if I provide you this information."

"If your information is good, none of that is a problem. When can we see what you have?"

"Well Agent," I drawled, " turns out I have the whole corporate office to myself tonight. Security from downstairs checks the offices every hour, but they are used to seeing me here at all hours of the day and night. I will have everything ready for you by noon tomorrow. And it just so happens my wife is out of town for the weekend, so my time is my own."

Agent Jackson replied dryly but I could detect a suppressed smirk, "Ah yes, our surveillance team texted a few minutes ago that your boss and your wife just left the Atlanta Airport on a private jet with a flight plan for Jekyll Island. I presume the witness protection will just be for yourself and will not include your wife?"

I thought to myself, "Well, well, my hot little wife is being inducted into the mile-high-club even as Agent Jackson and I speak. What ironic timing."

I smiled happily, "Oh yes, you presume correctly. Now, how is this all going to work?"

Agent Jackson replied in a clipped staccato, "We will pick you up at your house at noon tomorrow. Have all of your evidence. You can bring one piece of personal luggage. You will not be returning. We will keep you under wraps and review what you have. If you have what you claim to have, we will use Sunday to get warrants and organize things. At dawn on Monday, we will arrest Mr. Coleman and any others implicated by your information and execute search warrants. We want to move rapidly so no evasive moves can be made or evidence destroyed by the guilty parties. Afterwards, we will relocate you with a new identity, though you will probably have to return to testify."

"Okay. That is all fine. I understand I have some say on where I locate under the witness protection plan. I would like to end up in the U.S. Virgin Islands."

I had visions of a Hemingwayish lifestyle in the Caribbean: fishing, scuba diving, maybe dabbling with writing novels about financial crime, drinking rum on the beach ... I have plenty of money stashed away overseas, and there would be more from the IRS for turning in the income tax fraud. Yeah, I'll be in the catbird seat for sure. Maybe I'll get another girlfriend to help me enjoy the good life. I laughed to myself, but this time perhaps not one quite so gorgeous as Amy though.

Damn, I am going to miss that woman though. Even after all of this. She's something else, for sure. But she left me of her own volition and burned the bridge behind her. It's time to move on.

Agent Jackson was in a hurry now, "I suspect that the Virgin islands can be arranged. We will pick you up at noon tomorrow and work all that out later if your information is good."

"What about my wife?"

"Mr. Thompson, to my knowledge she is not guilty of anything but adultery. Your wife is your problem, not the FBI's." With that she hung up.

Oh yes, Amy's my problem alright. She would be caught naked in the sack with David in the Fed's dawn raid on Monday. Oh, she would throw a screaming hissy fit to end all hissy fits. I just wish I could be a fly on the wall!

I had long ago moved most of our personal financial resources off shore for tax and business reasons. Amy was unaware of these stashed funds and so was the tax man. I would move the bulk of the rest tonight. Sunday night I would cancel Amy's credit cards leaving her stranded in Jekyll Island after the Monday raid and David's arrest. By the time she got help from friends or her folks to get back to Atlanta, I would have disappeared into the witness protection program with most of our money leaving her the house, my BMW, and her Jaguar.

With her looks, Amy would eventually land on her feet with another rich man in her bed. But she would catch hell in the short term!

Amy bet on the wrong horse in this race. He who laughs last laughs best, and I am laughing now.