Alex’s plan has come across beautifully—I could not have hoped for better results. And it has shown me the great advantage that comes with knowing one’s enemies.
He has no shortage of cunning, this one. He chose his moment well, walking into the office of Mr. Hill’s accountant just before Mr. Hill was due to come in himself. Alex had an armload of documents and his head down, and so the accountant and her assistant paid him no mind, busy going through the numbers one last time.
“No, that payment was made on Thursday—”
“Yes, but this past Thursday, or the week before?” The accountant waved a hand at Alex. “Just put them all on the table there.”
“Sure. Hey, mind if I grab a cup of coffee before I go?” Alex asked, jerking a thumb at the coffeepot.
She shrugged, and he went to pour himself a cup, taking his time adding cream and sugar, though he usually takes his coffee black. He was tense, but not as nervous as I would have thought—he has planned this out carefully.
Sipping his too-sweet coffee, he listened to the back-and-forth between the accountant and her assistant, waiting to spring the trap. His eyes lingered on the assistant, a thin, elderly gentleman who was wearing a brand-new sport coat. His name is Warren Trudeau, and Alex knows a great deal more about him than he realizes.
“So that’s the secondary fund. Did you bring the receipts from Foster’s trip?”
“They’re in that file there.”
“Good. And the smaller accounts?”
“All straight, on that sheet right there, Danica.”
She flipped over a page and scanned it closely. “No payments yet on the Spiller account?”
Alex took another sip, careful not to react in any way.
“No, nothing,” Warren said.
Now Alex looked up. “Wait, that’s Miranda Spiller?” he asked. “But I gave you a payment from her yesterday.”
Both Danica and Warren looked up at him. Warren frowned in perplexity. “No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. Couple hundred dollars cash. I brought it in with the other half of this junk.” He motioned to the piles of papers he’d carried in.
Now Danica turned to Warren with a different kind of frown. “What were you doing here last night?”
Warren stood still, and I could see that he was also carefully not reacting. “Just going through a few things that I missed in the afternoon. And I do remember you coming in, Alex, but you didn’t give me any cash.”
“I definitely did,” Alex said. “It was four hundred dollars, and it was in a fat manila envelope with one of those string-ties. Said ‘Spiller’ on it.”
The door opened then, and and Mr. Hill came in, laughing at something while his two assistants laughed along with him. The tension rose sharply in the room.
Ignoring Mr. Hill—or pretending to ignore him—Alex turned to one of the assistants. “Hey, Maria,” he said, “do you remember yesterday when I picked up that stuff from you? I had an envelope with me. Big manila one?”
The laughter trailed off, and Maria raised her eyes. “Yeah, I remember that. I thought it was for me but you said it was coming here. Why?”
Alex turned to Warren again and gestured vindication.
“What’s going on here?” Mr. Hill asked.
Alex ducked his head—he’d done his part, and he knew that the plan would carry itself on without him.
“Warren seems to have misplaced a payment, sir,” Danica said slowly. “From the Spiller account.”
Suddenly it felt that an icy draft had gone through the room. Mr. Hill fixed his gaze on Warren. He said nothing, but I could feel the fear rising in everyone present, and in Warren most of all.
Warren looked desperately at Alex. He knew, and Alex knew, that no such envelope had been given to him. But Alex had, in fact, had such an envelope, stuffed with scrap paper to make it look fat and full, and had ostentatiously shown it to the assistant the night before. With her as his witness, suspicion turned against Warren, and he had little choice but to bow to the lie.
He managed a laugh. “Oh, you know what, I think I do know what you’re talking about. Hold on a second.”
He went into his office. Mr. Hill glanced at his second assistant, who went after him. I, too, followed.
Warren was hastily digging through a safe behind his desk. He jumped as the man came in, then beckoned him over. “That kid’s setting me up, Dan,” he hissed. “He never gave me any payment. But if I say that, I look like I made the money disappear myself!”
Dan only looked from Warren’s new sport coat, to the pile of cash that was sitting in the safe. He raised a skeptical brow.
Warren clutched at his hair in frustration. “He’s setting me up!” he insisted in a fierce whisper.
“Look, maybe he is and maybe he isn’t,” Dan said in a similarly low voice. “Doesn’t matter right this second. All you have to do is make the problem disappear.”
Warren had come to the same conclusion—throughout this exchange, he had been counting out four hundred dollars of his own money, though he gritted his teeth in frustration. Before Dan would let him out from behind the desk, though, he held out his own hand for his share.
A moment later they both came out, Warren’s smile back on his face. “Yes, here it is,” he said, holding out the stack of bills. “I forgot about it because I took it right out of the envelope and threw it away. Sorry about the confusion, sir.”
Mr. Hill didn’t say anything, which seemed to frighten Warren more. The whole room watched silently as Warren handed the bills to Danica, who counted them carefully and made a note of the payment.
Quietly jubilant, Alex was careful not to leave too quickly after that—he finished his coffee in silence and slipped out as Mr. Hill sat down across from Danica’s desk. Warren couldn’t leave the meeting, but he found Alex at a restaurant a few hours later.
“You little shit,” he said, sitting down across from Alex.
I drew closer to Alex and spread my wings around him. He took another bite of his salad and set his fork down, wiping his mouth. “Problem, Warren?” he asked.
“You never gave me that money. Why the fuck are you setting me up?”
Alex met his eye coolly. “Why the fuck are you being so stupid as to skim off Mr. Hill’s money?”
Warren sat perfectly still. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not stupid, you know, and neither is Hill,” Alex pointed out. “Up until now you’ve only taken a little bit, and you’ve been careful enough that he lets it slide. But he knows. He was talking about it with Quick just a few weeks ago—he called it the ‘costs of doing business’. Said as long as you keep it quiet and don’t take too much, he doesn’t care. He even said he respected you for balancing risk and ambition like that.”
Warren was paralyzed. He’d thought only Danica knew about his light fingers and had always felt certain that she would keep it quiet.
Alex leaned forward. “But if it gets out, Warren, that’s different,” he said, his voice quieter. “Mr. Hill can’t have people saying that he lets anyone steal from him. He’d have to make an example of you.”
From Warren’s white face and the nightmares behind his eyes, I could see that he knew exactly what that meant.
Alex leaned back in his chair again. “If I were you, I’d clean up my act and fast,” he said. “And I’d be a little nicer to any little shit who has all the dirt on you.”
Warren gritted his teeth. “I might have known this was coming. What do you want? Cash?”
“Think I’m putting my fingerprints on Hill’s money?” Alex asked coldly. “No, I’m not that stupid. No, what I want is for you to put the money back into the organization where it belongs. You can do it bit by bit—keep using the Spiller account if you want, and I’ll back you.” He said this casually, as if it were an afterthought rather than the primary goal of his trick. I leaned a bit on Warren to make him think this was his best chance.
“Oh,” Alex added as Warren considered his options, “and I’ll want access to the numbers myself. So I know how much you owe and when you’ll be done paying it back.”
Warren looked down at the table. “I can have Danica figure that up for you—”
“Danica’s been letting this go only because she had plausible deniability. Now that Hill has reason to believe she might be involved, she’ll go to him first thing with any lick of proof she gets.” He snorted. “The woman has a grandkid on the way, Warren. She’s been working for Hill for fifteen years, and he trusts her. She’s not going to be stupid enough to go against him now.”
As his opponent sat brittle and furious across the table, Alex leaned forward and spoke cajolingly. “Look, I’m good with numbers, and with your help I could be even better. Maybe we could find a couple others in the organization who have gotten a little greedy. Maybe even someone who’s been more greedy than you? Someone who could get Hill’s eyes off you?”
There was a flicker in Warren’s eyes at that. He liked the idea of throwing someone else to the wolf in order to get away himself.
Sure of his victory, Alex tapped the table. “Just make a couple payments down over the next few weeks, and I’ll know I can trust you to do the right thing. Then we can work together and get back into Hill’s good books.”
I watched in pride and wonder as Warren’s thoughts turned from rage to grudging admiration. “You’re not slow, kid, I’ll give you that.” He sighed and pushed up from the table. “Fine. I’ll make another payment at the end of the week.”
“Make it next week,” Alex said, pushing upright himself. “Mrs. Spiller has been struggling for a while, and Danica will ask questions if all of a sudden she’s flush. I can figure that out for you, but it’ll take me a little time.” He held out his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Warren took Alex’s hand, squeezing hatefully. “I wish I could say the same.”
Alex laughed and jerked out of his grip. “Don’t worry, I’ll grow on you.” He picked up his dishes and left Warren standing at the table, whistling as he went out the door.
What a difference it can make, to know that you are not alone! Even such an ephemeral presence as mine gave Alex the confidence to put this plan into motion. It seems that every moment it gets more complex, but still I have faith that he can carry it out. With careful planning, courage, and luck—and perhaps a little heavenly intervention—Alex may be able to take down Hill’s entire organization. Of course it is foolish to get too excited too early, but I believe in this remarkable young man. I may be the first to do so, but I won’t be the last.