Found Money - James Grippando [98]
“So maybe I could have thought this through a little better. But Kozelka does appear to hold the key. I was afraid that once I went to the FBI, he might never talk. I’d never find the truth.”
“The truth is, you made a terrible mistake. And you made it for one reason: you’re still protecting your father.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your obsession right now is to find out why Kozelka paid your father all that money. One option is to cooperate with the FBI and let them interrogate Kozelka, but then you’d have to tell them your father was a rapist and extortionist. The other option is to barge into K&G headquarters like an idiot and demand to speak directly to Joe Kozelka yourself.”
Ryan was suddenly angry, pacing the room. “Is it really that crazy to wonder why a man like Kozelka would pay a rapist five million dollars?”
“You’re way too consumed by this rape question. Step back. You might even realize the blackmail has no connection at all to the rape.”
“Then why would the rape conviction record have been in the same safe deposit box as the Panamanian bank records?”
“Maybe the rape simply explains why your dad gave a two-hundred-thousand-dollar chunk of the money to Amy Parkens. You said it yourself before—it could have been his way of making amends for what he did to Amy’s mother. But the rape might have nothing to do with the reasons Kozelka or anyone else paid your father five million dollars.”
Ryan considered the theory quietly, saddened by its plausibility. He could think only of the horrified look on Amy’s face yesterday. “That would mean my father really did rape Amy’s mother.”
“Stop protecting your father, Ryan. It’s time to start worrying about your own neck.”
Ryan wanted to deny it, but the more the silence lingered, the more he realized: Norm was right. He answered in a calm, much quieter tone. “What’s done is done, I guess. The good news is, I’ve at least confirmed that Kozelka is the source of the funds.”
“And the really bad news,” said Norm, “is that you still have no idea what your dad used to blackmail Kozelka. Yet you marched right into his building and left him with the distinct impression that the Duffy family is still blackmailing him.”
“No way. I made it very clear that I wasn’t after money.”
“Blackmail doesn’t have to involve money. In a general sense, any time you use threats to cause someone to act against their own free will, it’s a form of extortion.”
“I didn’t threaten him.”
“It was a veiled threat, Ryan. In essence, you told him to come up with the information you want by Monday at ten A.M., or you give Kozelka’s name to the FBI.”
“That’s extortion?”
“Legally, it’s a gray area. But if I were Kozelka, I’d take it that way.”
“What should we do?”
“Wait. And brace ourselves. We’re about to find out how Kozelka takes to threats.”
Joseph Kozelka sat behind his desk, still fuming. The entire exchange in the conference room had been caught on camera, broadcast on closed circuit to the television monitor in his office. To say Dr. Duffy had angered him would be a gross understatement. Kozelka, however, wasn’t the type to rant and rave. He stewed. Never alone. Always in the presence of those he held responsible. It was a power tactic that left subordinates melting with apprehension.
This afternoon, Nathan Rusch was one of those subordinates. He sat nervously on the couch, awaiting his boss’s reaction.
Job security was a rare luxury at K&G, especially for someone like Rusch, whose job was totally result-oriented. Rusch wasn’t part of K&G’s regular corporate security. He was a special security operations consultant, a term that covered just about anything. If Kozelka needed protection on a trip to a Third World country, Rusch could assemble a team that rivaled the Secret Service. If a disgruntled former employee threatened to expose K&G trade secrets, Rusch was faster, cheaper and far more effective than any team of rabid lawyers. And if Kozelka was faced with blackmail, Rusch would