The Arrest

Present Day: Back to the Courthouse

Jasper grew increasingly impatient. “This bureaucratic bullshit! I’ve been in this jail cell for over twenty-four hours. Where the hell is everyone?” he whispered to himself.

The gray musty cell was becoming darker as Jasper paced within his surroundings in frustration. Graffiti covered most of the walls while shiny metal bars contrasted the dreariness of the unfamiliar atmosphere. It was relatively quiet for a jail, he thought, with no other prisoners in sight since his arrest. However, he was not upset by those circumstances since he did not desire company. On occasion, a corrections officer would pass through the hall intent to engage in conversation; however, Jasper was not inviting.

After another hour had passed, Jasper ceased pacing and stared at a graffiti marking above the bed. The letters were bold, strongly pronounced in red and black, and his eyes remained steadfast on the words. “Son Knee.” How absurd, he thought, it was for anyone to identify himself on a jail wall: an institution where one lacked power and is unable to control their actions at will. Jasper thought, Limited minds portray themselves in such an irrelevant way.

Where the hell is Laura? Why hasn’t she arrived yet? I need to get back to my business. Jasper’s lavish lifestyle in New York City was significantly different from his upbringing in his hometown Memphis, Tennessee.

Flashback: Jasper’s Childhood

Jasper’s father, Roy Cunningham, was an unyielding family man strong in his convictions. It was the mid-1960s when Roy arrived in Memphis, Tennessee, at eighteen years old from his birthplace Belmont, Alabama, just over one hundred miles south of Memphis. Roy was not a particularly clever man, but his charisma and motivation quickly linked him with a group of men who managed a profitable local dance venue on West End Street called the Hot Toddy. Gamblers bet on illegal numbers and played poker in the cellar. The men sold homemade spirits by the glass in the side lounge, and women were prostituted on the second floor. The guests enjoyed dance music every night of the week until the early hours of the morning.

Roy earned a handsome $4,000 a week comanaging the activities at the Hot Toddy for twelve years. The lucrative pay afforded him a two-story single-family home from his rewarding earnings that was unusual for a young man to afford, particularly during the racially challenging era. However, the police didn’t disturb the owners or patrons at the nightclub since Roy and his partners refrained from selling narcotics, and the local inspectors were sufficiently compensated for their ignorance.

At twenty-one years old, Roy married Annette Johnson, a local Memphis lady, three years his junior, who worked as a certified nursing assistant at a medical facility for the mentally disabled. She was Creole, light-skinned with green eyes, her descendants originally from New Orleans. In spite of being five feet two inches, she commanded respect, and her caring instincts nurtured the family and held them together over the years. After several miscarriages, Jasper was born and was the only child. In spite of Roy cherishing his blessing, he was away from the home sometimes nearly eighteen hours a day, leaving most of Jasper’s rearing to his mother. She ensured Jasper received a good education and was committed to providing quality guidance to her only child.

Jasper, however, was emotionally scarred by what he witnessed and experienced at his father’s business. As an ambitious youth, Jasper knew his father always had a lot of money from gambling, and he naïvely wanted the same for himself as a youth. One Friday night, at twelve years old, Jasper followed his father’s burgundy-and-white Cadillac to work on his bicycle. The Hot Toddy was a mile away in the Downtown Memphis area. Jasper rode as fast as he could to keep up with his father’s car yet remain a safe distance behind to avoid getting noticed. When Roy arrived at the nightclub, he parked his car at the curbside. He greeted a burly bodyguard at the door who was about six and a half feet tall and three hundred pounds. Jasper, panting and out of breath, watched his father from half a block away.

“What’s happening, Chuck?”

“Hey, Mr. Cunningham.”

“What’s the crowd like in there tonight?”

“Spending money on cards and drinking moonshine.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” The men laughed.

Chuck opened the door for Roy to enter and resumed his powerful stance in front of the nightclub. Knowing Chuck would not allow him inside, Jasper snuck down the alleyway on the side of the building and hid his bicycle in a corner. The basement windows were tinted, but he peered through a small hole and saw men and women hovered over card tables gambling in the smoke-filled room. He pulled on each of the windows but was unsuccessful in opening any of them. As he was about to try the last window, a woman surprisingly approached him.

“Hey, sugar. What are you doing lurking at them windows?” Startled, Jasper looked at the sexy twenty-two-year-old young woman but did not answer. Her tightly fitted silver sequined dress that exposed nearly all of her huge breasts shimmered in the alley lights. Matching silver sandals revealed bright red polished toenails that matched her long fingernails. Every so often, she would throw her head back to untangle her long brown silky wig from her red feather boa.

“Don’t you have anything to say, cutie?” she asked.

Jasper liked the endearment that the strange woman expressed.

“I was trying to get into the club. I want to play cards.”

“Play cards? How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen.”

“Eighteen? You don’t look eighteen. And if you were, why wouldn’t you just go right up to the front door?”

“Well, I am. I just don’t have ID to prove it yet. Can you get me inside?”

“Cutie, are you trying to get me fired? I can’t bring you in the Hot Toddy.”

“I have money.” Jasper showed the strange young woman $50.

“Where did you get that money from?”

“I told you, I’m eighteen. I work.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. And I could get plenty more anytime I want,” Jasper dishonestly bragged.

The woman was intrigued by the money. “What’s your name, cutie?”

“Jasper.”

“Well, Jasper, I’m Lynn. What is it you think you want to do with that money?”

“I told you, I play cards.”

“Jasper, there ain’t no way I can get you through that front door. Even if I did, you won’t be able to play cards at them tables.” Jasper was miserably disappointed. Lynn, however, saw an opportunity for her to earn quick money.

“You know, there is other grown-up fun you can have at the Hot Toddy.” Jasper looked at Lynn puzzled but interested.

“You see that fire escape there?” Jasper nodded his head. “You climb up to that window on the second floor.” Lynn pointed to the window. I’m going inside, and I will meet you up there in five minutes.

Lynn left Jasper and walked to the front of the club. She headed upstairs to her regular room where she entertained men nightly. Lynn opened the window, and Jasper slowly entered the room. Jasper looked around the small room with red-painted walls, a folding table with a bottle of whiskey and paper cups on top, and a round-shaped bed that was covered with a red shiny spread and four red velvet pillows. Lynn knew this would be the easiest $50 she would earn for the night. It did not matter to her that the money was from a young boy. Clients generally paid only $10 an hour for her time and hard work.

Anxious but curious as to what Lynn had to offer, Jasper handed over the immediately requested $50 to Lynn. Jasper stood still in front of Lynn while she sat on the bed unbuckling his blue jeans. She dropped his pants and underwear to his ankles without taking off his sneakers. Recognizing the interaction was going to be quick, Lynn didn’t bother to undress. She lifted her dress halfway and pulled her panties to the side and told Jasper to get on top of her. Lynn guided twelve-year-old Jasper who wanted to demonstrate he was a man, so he obediently followed directions. She switched places, sexually molesting innocent but strongly willing Jasper. She taught him how to tongue kiss her while synchronizing his pelvic rhythm and hip motions with hers. Jasper didn’t understand what was happening to his body; however, he knew Lynn’s lips, hands, and her slipperiness inside made him feel good all over. Lynn recognized her tutorial session was about to end and let out a few moans to make Jasper believe he made a grown woman happy. He now felt he was part of the action at his father’s business, an adult participant at the club, a man.

“Cutie, you said you can keep getting this money?” Jasper nodded his head. “Then you come to my window every Friday about this here time, and you show me how much of a man you are again.” In the middle of Jasper dressing, there was a loud knock on Lynn’s door. It was a client.

“Cutie, you go on home now. I’ll see you next week. But you can’t come here if you don’t have money. OK?” Jasper exited through the window, down the fire escape, jumped on his bicycle, and gleefully made his way home.

Although Jasper wanted to return, he was concerned about the feasibility of future visits to the Hot Toddy. It would be difficult to get that much money every week. It took him nearly a year to save the money he had from his milk route, paper delivery, and bag packing at the supermarket. As he rode home on his bicycle desperately thinking of a solution, he recalled that his father kept mounds of cash from the business in the top drawer of his bureau. There were hundreds of dollars largely from gambling bets. Hence, Jasper took $50 each week out of his father’s money to visit Lynn each Friday for four months. He was smitten by Lynn; she was his sweetheart, the first love of his life. However, oftentimes, when Jasper arrived at her fire escape window on a Friday night, Lynn was with a client. Jasper peered into the room through the window watching other men having sex with Lynn. On occasion, they were rough, vulgar, drunk men hurting her, he thought, beating her backside, sometimes with a belt. Jasper hated watching those men touching her, and he couldn’t understand why Lynn would allow men to hurt her physically. But he confusingly saw she appeared to enjoy their behavior because Lynn always wanted more.

One hot summer Friday night when Jasper arrived, the window was partially open. Jasper overheard the man in Lynn’s room demand money that Lynn owed. The man shouted that she could not keep working at the Hot Toddy if she didn’t figure out a way to pay up. Jasper witnessed the man slap Lynn in the face. Jasper was upset that he hit Lynn, and he wanted to enter the room to help his first love, so he decided to get a weapon. He quickly left in search of something in the alleyway that he could use to protect Lynn. When he returned with a half-broken bottle, there was another man in the room. It was his father, Roy, who had joined the other man. Jasper froze. Lynn clearly had been beaten further. The men took turns holding Lynn down and raping her. Jasper was infuriated as he watched his father and the other man hurt his sweetheart, the woman who cared about him and made him a man. After the men were through with Lynn, they demanded that she leave the Hot Toddy and never return. She swore that she would pay them their money. Jasper returned to that window for months looking for Lynn, but she never resurfaced. Deeply hurt, Jasper concluded that Lynn had not loved him like he had loved her. She never said good-bye. He innocently believed she should have seen him one last time before leaving.

For months thereafter, Jasper returned to the window at the Hot Toddy and watched the activity in Lynn’s former room, the demeaning ways in which men misused women, and Jasper felt each woman deserved the degrading treatment. He believed women could not be trusted because they would desert you and that if you allowed yourself to reveal your feelings, they would undoubtedly take advantage of your vulnerabilities. And from time to time, he believed, physical pain from men was warranted. Furthermore, Jasper had deep hatred toward his father Roy for raping and chasing Lynn away.

Roy eventually figured out Jasper had stolen his money. From then on, Roy would unjustifiably beat Jasper for minor things Jasper had done wrong while his mother helplessly watched afraid to utter a word in Jasper’s defense. Jasper’s early childhood experiences, including the sexual encounters with Lynn, the activity he witnessed in the windows of the Hot Toddy, the physical abuse from his father, and the lack of support from his mother significantly affected his outlook on life and future relationships, particularly with women.

When the late 1970s arrived, there were demands for drugs: marijuana, heroin, pills, and opium. Reluctant to partake in what he viewed as a corrupt franchise that was overly risky, Roy pulled out from the Hot Toddy. His partners stayed in business for several more years selling drugs and expanding the gambling to blackjack tables, slot machines, and craps turning the Hot Toddy into a lucrative casino and nightclub. Several of his former partners became wealthy men and later relocated to Las Vegas right before the business was brought down by the Federal Narcotics Division.

From thereafter, the Cunningham home was emotionally unbalanced. Roy would on occasion rant about his hasty decision to exit the business. He reflected on his high income in the early years and his lost opportunity to partake in moneymaking activities in Downtown Memphis. Roy’s reminiscing oftentimes resulted in depression.

Roy assumed a new profession as a plumber at the Memphis Plumbing Society but also had become a womanizer. As a teenager, Jasper was exposed to his father’s adulterous behavior. Jasper oftentimes would accompany his father on plumbing calls. Roy’s plumbing visits were more social than work-related. While Jasper was in the kitchen repairing pipes, his father tended to women in their bedrooms. On several occasions, Roy offered the women to Jasper after he was done with them, and Jasper accepted. In return, these women received free repair services; therefore, Roy brought limited money to the household. Although Roy never received an official plumber’s license, he performed plumbing duties for his company until he died at the age of fifty-one from a heart attack. Annette Cunningham died one year after Roy from diabetic complications.

Realization of his parent’s financial and emotional shortcomings became apparent when, as a young man, Jasper earned an academic scholarship to attend Columbia University Business School in New York. Jasper studied with wealthy classmates such as New York State Governor Hammond’s son Alexander and Senator Wallington’s daughter, Sarah, who grew up in very prominent areas in New York and Chicago, respectively. His peers were focused on their parents’ dreams, solid self-worth, healthy personal relationships, and unlimited financial potential—all with a balanced perspective that Jasper lacked. Jasper searched for this balance throughout his college years, in fact his entire life, but his process of doing so was always at the detriment of someone else.

Jasper was quite popular at Columbia and excelled academically. He was competitive and ambitious, becoming president of the Student Business Association, the National Debate Club, and the Chess Club. He had a couple of rivals at Columbia, most notably was Ramone Santos. Jasper was two years Ramone’s junior, but they were in the same academic year. As a result of his honorary achievements in grade school, Jasper had skipped two levels before starting college. Ramone and Jasper competed for similar positions in the university clubs and associations at Columbia, and Jasper consistently won. Ramone’s competitive spirit morphed into deep envy.

Once during Ramone and Jasper’s junior year, Ramone was headed to his dormitory room and saw Jasper in the study hall.

“Hey, Jasper, are you interviewing with Prewitt and Sons today for the senior year scholarship?”

“I hadn’t heard about it. How is eligibility determined?” Jasper inquired.

“It’s based on your grade point average. The intent is to begin a relationship with the firm early so that they can select individuals to extend job offers upon graduation.”

“My senior year is fully funded. I won’t need to interview for a scholarship. Besides, I plan to work for Williams and Watts when I graduate.”

Later that afternoon, a line of students formed in front of Locus Hall for thirty-minute interviews with Prewitt and Sons. Ramone was the twenty-third person on line. Much to his surprise, he saw Jasper already on line more than ten people ahead of him. Two weeks later, two people were chosen to receive the scholarship, Jasper and a female math major. Ramone was infuriated. He approached Jasper outside of the dormitory.

“Jasper, what happened? I thought you didn’t need the scholarship from Prewitt.”

“I don’t,” Jasper smirked. “It’s about competing and winning. Feels good. Need a loan?” Jasper laughed and walked away.

Ramone shouted behind him, “You are so pompous!”

Jasper shouted back, “Hey, remain hopeful, there’s next year. Oh, sorry, you might have graduated already.”

After completing his studies at Columbia University, Jasper worked on Wall Street for Williams and Watts brokerage house selling financial products as he expected. Two years later, he attended Harvard Business School for a master’s degree majoring in international finance and business management. Upon graduating, he was courted by top investment banks, but he chose to work for the number 1 management consulting firm in the world, Payne Foster. Jasper earned a good salary, had great potential, and was on track to become a partner at the firm. But for Jasper, the power was not coming broad and fast enough. He wanted to run his own company and direct his destiny. Therefore, he had to establish his own firm.

Jasper meticulously chose Jonathan Gates and Mark Waddell as potential partners. Jonathan was a former business school colleague at Harvard University. He studied finance and had previously earned a certified public accountancy and was a certified financial analyst. He was a financial genius who understood the stock and bond markets in depth, largely a result of his early bond trading and equity analyst work. However, the business savvy that came so naturally to Jasper was a struggle for Jonathan. While Jonathan could construct the most complex transactions with high earning potential, he could not sell or market his products to investors.

Unlike Jonathan, Mark was not a technical genius. However, he possessed the trusting personal characteristics enabling him to sell clients worthless junk bonds for the price of a triple A-rated security. But oftentimes, Mark crossed the ethical line putting his former employer in great financial and reputational risk. Jasper knew Mark from working at Payne Foster where Mark was denied partnership in the firm and was in the market looking for career alternatives.

Jasper recognized the complementary strengths the three men offered and the tremendous potential to become a formidable business partnership. But Jasper wanted to prove his hopefulness to ensure his optimism was solid. One Sunday in the fall of 1996, Jasper invited Mark and Jonathan to go white-tailed deer hunting upstate New York in the Adirondack wilderness. The men looked forward to the opportunity to bond and retreat from the city. After driving eight hours, they arrived at the camp lodge in rural terrain that was less than a mile from a river flowing with trout.

The following day, the men set off hunting. There weren’t any active game in the woods that day, but that was fine with Jasper since he had other plans. The three men regrouped to decide whether or not to relinquish hunting.

Seemingly out of the blue, Jasper asked, “I need to know, Jonathan, do you have balls?” Jonathan looked at Jasper confused.

Jasper continued, “I’m asking you, do you have the gumption to fight for what you believe is right?”

“Jasper, what are you talking about? I think this fresh air has overcome you.” Jonathan looked at Mark, and they both laughed at Jasper’s remarks, but Jasper remained serious. Jasper lifted his rifle and jammed it to Mark’s neck, grabbing his arm.

“Jonathan, if I cock this gun right now, would you stop me?”

“Hey, Jasper, what’s the matter with you?” Jonathan asked.

Jasper shouted with anger and malice, “I asked you a goddamn question! Jonathan, would you attempt to stop me from killing Mark right now in this place in the middle of nowhere? No one will know.”

With the rifle firmly pressed on Mark’s neck, Jasper cocked the weapon. It was difficult for Mark to speak, but he said, “Hey, man . . . you’re fucking around a little too close to my jugular. Pull your rifle back.”

Jasper turned to look at Mark. “Are you afraid, Mark? Jonathan, I’ll ask you again, would you try to stop me?”

Still confused, Jonathan asked, “Why are you doing this?” Jasper continued to hold the rifle at Mark’s neck. Jonathan knew he had to answer Jasper in order to make headway in the situation. “You’re damn right I would stop you!”

Jasper looked away to respond to Jonathan when Mark grabbed the barrel of the rifle and pointed it up to the sky. A shot went off. No one was hurt. Jasper began to laugh.

“I had to test you motherfuckers to see where we stand, to evaluate your personalities in unexpected crises.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jasper?” demanded Mark.

“Nothing’s wrong. I learned a hell of a lot about you in my test. Jonathan, notice you said you would stop me because I had no reason. So what might happen if I had a reason? You might go along with me? You could be convinced to do what you thought was logical even at the peril of another. Mark, you never eluded fear. But you weren’t sure whether or not I was joking, and you assumed the worst. And when you pulled that rifle, you pointed it to the sky. Not at me. You didn’t try to take revenge on me even though you weren’t sure whether or not I was about to kill you.”

“You are crazy, Jasper. What the hell are you trying to prove out here in the wilderness?”

“That we are partners. We complement each other.”

The men walked back to the camp lodge. Both Mark and Jonathan were perplexed by Jasper’s dangerous way of understanding their personalities. But as the night progressed, in some bizarre way, Jasper’s justification became less obscure. The three men caught brook trout and ate at the lodge. They discussed establishing a partnership, planned their organizational structure, and determined the capital necessary to commence operations. It was clear to all three men that Jasper would be lead partner.

Cunningham, Gates & Waddell rapidly built their client base and revenues over eight years to become a corporate powerhouse. Jasper oftentimes entered and closed deals without Jonathan and Mark’s approval, but they trusted Jasper. At times, Jonathan and Mark were uncomfortable with the risks that Jasper exposed them to, but Jasper made them very wealthy men; hence, they very seldom inquired about the nature of questionable transactions.

Present Day: Back at the Courthouse Jail

Jasper was now lying on the jail bed having reflected on his childhood in Memphis, his college days, and the launch of his firm. During those times, he never thought he would embarrassingly end up doing the “perp walk” in front of his staff at the empire he built. The degrading circumstances in jail were nearly as humiliating as the mortifying manner of his arrest. Jasper paced his cell again reflecting on the morning of his arrest.

Earlier That Day Preceding the Arrest

Three enforcement division FBI agents dressed in dark suits, white shirts, and burgundy ties entered into the high-rise office building of Cunningham, Gates & Waddell, LLP, in New York City. They boarded the elevators located on Park Avenue at 10:30 am. One agent carried a stainless steel briefcase, steadfast and purposeful. Two civilian men accompanied the FBI agents. Their aim was to take into custody the partners at the firm.

As they exited the elevator on the forty-ninth floor, they marched straight past the receptionist.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please,” shouted the well-groomed middle-aged receptionist. “We have protocol for unannounced visits—” But the three officials and two men ignored her and were already halfway down the office hall before she picked up the phone to call security.

The offices were breathtaking. The six-feet-high windows set off views of the East River in Manhattan. The french double doors were solid walnut with brass doorknobs. The carpet was blood red, and the ceilings were twenty-five feet high with Victorian chandeliers. The offices were old traditional that was unusual for young executives, but the partners strongly favored the richness and beauty of the décor.

The officials headed to the northeast corner office. Mark Waddell—partner, a single playboy, his only family a married sister in Virginia—sat in his office unsettled. As the group of men approached, Mark walked over to his hidden bar and pulled down the door and poured a cognac. As he gulped a mouthful, the officials entered. The two men walked over to Mark while the three FBI agents waited at the entrance of the door.

“Sir, place the glass down and put your hands behind your head,” said Agent Lawson.

Mark calmly stated, “What bullshit game is this? You bastards. You only want the wealth to yourselves. As soon as we get an opportunity to indulge, you eradicate. Who is lining your purse? There is absolutely no reason for—”

The civilian swiftly strong-armed Mark.

Mark more sternly shouted, “Bullshit. Who is paying you off?” This remark angered the man who slammed Mark onto the nineteenth-century wooden desk.

“You thieving, corrupt son of a bitch,” the man said to Mark. Mark struggled with the man who swiftly pulled out a .38-caliber gun from the waistband of the back of his pants and flipped Mark around to face him. He pointed the barrel between Mark’s lips. “Would my gun blowing your fucking teeth out of your head feel like a payoff?”

FBI Agent Alexander Lawson sternly approached Mark and the man at the desk. “Hey, slow your shit, Sullivan. This is an FBI arrest.” Agent Lawson turned to his partner Agent Cooper, and said, “Stay here with Sullivan before his crazy ass thinks he is on a street hit. You guys, come with me.”

Agents Lawson, Patterson, and the other man set off toward the northwest corner of the floor. Employees were standing outside their offices with concerned faces, and a female employee burst out in a scream while another cried attempting to cover her mouth with her hands. The men entered the office of Jonathan Gates who, as a husband and father of two daughters under ten years old, was putting on his suit jacket to flee when they entered.

Agent Patterson asked, “Jonathan Gates?”

Jonathan replied, “He just went down the hall. I am a client from the company Tough as Plastics.” Jonathan attempted to scurry past Agent Patterson. As Jonathan walked by, the second man who recognized him from the photo took out his gun and pistol-whipped Jonathan in the back of his head. A gush of blood spurted out, and Jonathan fell to the floor.

“You fragile, sissy, spineless—” The man kicked Jonathan in his kidney while Jonathan lay on the floor bleeding.

“You are no different from Sullivan,” said Agent Lawson to the pistol whipper. “Stay here and cuff this prick. Two down and one to go,” said Lawson.

Agents Lawson and Patterson walked to the stairwell and headed up to the fiftieth floor. They exited into a full office suite where Jasper Cunningham was standing looking out of his ten-feet-high window with a view of New York City. Without turning around to face them, Jasper asked himself, “Why today? It is such a peaceful spring day. There is not a cloud in the sky . . . and the sun is as bright as I’ve ever seen.” He turned around to look at the two men, but he was puzzled. He was not expecting law enforcement. “What brings this on? I thought for sure—”

“No, Cunningham. This is federal business. We are getting the action. I’m FBI Agent Lawson, and this is Agent Patterson.” Jasper was semi-relieved as he thought underground hit men were greeting him. Jasper chuckled in relief and smirked discreetly.

“Listen, pretty boy, don’t fuck with us. Our better halves are downstairs taking a chunk out of your partners’ asses. I will not hesitate to call either of them up here to grind you to a pulp.”

In a very businesslike way, Jasper approached the men more comfortably as he realized they were not there to end his life. “What on earth, officers, do you want from an upstanding businessman such as me? Did I not file my taxes on time?” he asked curtly.

“Cute. You are quite flippant,” remarked Agent Lawson. He took the stainless steel briefcase he had been carrying and walked over to Jasper’s conference table near the window, placed the briefcase down, and opened it to reveal a stack of documents marked Confidential.

“Jasper Cunningham, we have enough evidence against you to send your Gucci-wearing ass to the federal penitentiary for quite some time. I WILL place you under arrest very shortly. But let’s chat first. You want to chat, Cunningham? Oh, I wiped that fancy ass grin off your mug.”

Lawson looked at Agent Patterson and shouted, “These arrogant bastards are making quite a bit of money and leaving me WITHOUT!” He turned to Jasper and approached him face-to-face. “You better get serious real quick, Cunningham!”

“There are auditing opinions on sixty-seven public companies that your firm has issued clean audit opinions. We know damn well your company was aware of, and in some cases responsible for, committing fraud, embezzlement, and deception to investors on the profitability and soundness of the financial positions of these companies. The FBI is only aware of four of the more minor cases that I have in my briefcase. I can blow that up right here, and I dare not think of the disparity in the prison sentence you will get when you are convicted of all sixty-seven cases. And trust me, I will ensure a conviction even if I have to buy a jury pool.”

“You dirty scavenger.”

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not a scavenger, Cunningham. I’m saving you from a lifetime in prison. I am your savior. Recognize it for what it is. And what about murder? There is evidence of missing investors who were about to come forth to speak with the U.S. District Attorney’s Office.”

“Bullshit. That can’t be linked back to Cunningham, Gates & Waddell.”

“So you hope.”

“I’ll take my chances on that.”

“I thought you were smarter, Cunningham.”

Understanding the severity of the charges, Jasper knew it was in his best interest to negotiate with Lawson. However, he tenaciously assumed an unknowing posture.

“Until I hear what you have, this is all talk.”

“In seven of those cases, we have investors who were going to report unusual activity to the officials and have now suspiciously disappeared. Embezzlement and fraud have mounted into the tens of millions of dollars, all of which I assure you can be traced back to your firm. At a minimum, as long as the embezzlement sticks, you’re looking at twenty-five to forty years.”

Jasper turned away and stared out the window.

Agent Lawson smirked, “Not so fucking funny anymore, Cunningham, huh? The landscape got brown very quickly.”

Inundated with clients that were under investigation by the U.S. Department of Justice and the Securities and Exchange Commission for defrauding shareholders and embezzling corporate money, Jasper’s firm attempted to conceal extensive evidence of falsified client records. The allegations against these companies, if found to be true, could implicate Cunningham, Gates & Waddell since they issued legitimate audit opinions in spite of their knowledge of the corporate malfeasance. Furthermore, the investment valuation arm of their firm provided inflated prices on companies and investment securities in order to increase the asset valuation and net worth of their clients. As a result of their illegal and unethical actions, Cunningham, Gates & Waddell received exorbitant client fees in order to bypass mentioning the deficiencies and worthless assets they discovered in client records.

Cunningham, Gates & Waddell, LLP, financial services firm conducted significant business with private equity firms dealing in high stakes merger and acquisition transactions. Jasper’s firm also ensured mergers were not jeopardized by issuing assurances around the integrity of the financial statements of companies and the value of the company up for sale. Companies buying another company would need to obtain valuation pricing of deals to assess the potential profit on future transactions. Obtaining legitimate valuations and audit opinions are critical to the success of closing billion-dollar deals to prove that the company had sound financial practices and was financially strong. Investors needed this comfort in order to place their money in high-risk, high-income potential stock transactions. Cunningham, Gates & Waddell, LLP, gave investors the necessary comfort.

Jasper and his partners conducted business with clients that their competitor firms would never deal with. One of their clients, Silverton Inc., proved to be particularly questionable. Two years ago, on the evening Jasper notified senior management at Silverton Inc. of his firm’s intent to withdraw from the account, the CEO Braxton Harper contacted Jasper to persuade him to rethink his firm’s withdrawal. Enticed with personal deposits of $10 million to Jasper and each of his partners, Jasper engaged the $20-billion initial public stock offering deal and knowingly overvalued the worth on the company’s balance sheet. The audit division of Cunningham, Gates & Waddell blessed the financial statements and health of Silverton Inc. that caused investors to rally behind the stock deal. The stock price of Silverton Inc. took off from $15 per share to $93 per share within two days, generating significant wealth for the executives of the firm. Two years later, the artificial strength of the company became apparent, the company filed bankruptcy, and investors were caught holding worthless stock. CEO Braxton Harper had embezzled billions of dollars from the firm by that time and fled the country.

Another major client, Ignacio Industries, owned by the Ignacio family, is known to have ties with the underworld. The Ignacio family allegedly silenced irate inquiring investors when suspicions were heightened; however, family members never have been charged.

“What do you bastards want from me and my firm?”

Lawson looked at Patterson and laughed. “Your firm? I’m tired of your pompous shit, you son of a bitch! Agent Patterson, can you wait outside the office door please.” Agent Patterson left and closed the door behind him.

Agent Lawson continued, “Get this straight, Cunningham, I’m not here to negotiate with you.” Lawson presumptuously sat in Jasper’s chair behind his desk. He spun around a few times in Jasper’s seat like a child who was brought to work by his parents.

“I can help you out of this problem. The remaining files can disappear. The boys at the DA’s office don’t have to know anything about these cases. Of course, I can’t do much about the four lesser cases your partners, not you, are already charged in committing. But everyone knows, Cunningham, you’re the partner with the brains and the power. You make and break deals around this firm.”

Jasper felt defeated. “How much do you want?”

“Fifty million.”

Jasper loudly shouted, “You must have lost your fucking mind!”

“Really, then you must have lost your fucking desire for freedom.”

“I would be a fool to pay you that kind of money,” Jasper dismissed the proposal. “I don’t even know whether your evidence is legitimate.”

“The files are right here. Take a look. I have all day.”

Jasper paused and contemplated the matter. “It would be impossible to get that amount of money.”

“You see, Cunningham, that’s where my evidence tells me differently. Have you ever heard your voice played on tape in a courtroom making deals to defraud small investors? In front of a judge, jurors, reporters, even your lovely wife?”

“One million dollars, you piece of shit.”

“Are you insulting me, Cunningham?”

Jasper shouted, “One thing I will not do is negotiate my money with a lowlife like you. Do you have any idea what $50 million is? You take a fucking subway to work every day. Any goddamn amount of money will be an improvement for you.”

“Fuck you, Cunningham!”

“Fuck you! And get your goddamn feet off my desk!” Lawson did not move and only smirked.

“Listen, Cunningham. Negotiate with me because either way, I’ll get paid. I can get paid fifty million by the Ignacio family for turning them evidence that you stole hundreds of millions from them, or I can get paid by you. In the first scenario, I also will be forced to turn over cases to the government. I might as well get accolades from my bosses for work well done. And guess what, you will go to jail. Pick your choice. Fifty million. Last call.”

“You filthy scum. I will never pay you $50 million for anything. Go to hell!”

Lawson called for his partner who waited outside the office door.

“Patterson, book this prick!”

“Jasper Cunningham, you’re under arrest for fourteen counts of embezzlement, twenty-four counts of intentional fraud and deception of investors, and seven counts of money laundering!”

“Both of you can go to hell!” With those remarks, Patterson punched Jasper across the jaw and handcuffed him with his face pressed against the large glass windowpanes.