A Tale of Deception

  THE DAY OF exposure had come for Peter Lawrence. Once Ann’s concerns about the missing money were put into the hands of David Tillman, he quickly, thoroughly and completely looked into it.

  Sitting at his desk, he held a copy of Mrs. Drummonds request for liquidation of the missing two million dollars, except the signature on the document wasn’t hers.

  If Mr. Lawrence had signed it at her request, with his power of attorney, it should have been signed “Mrs. Nessa Maria Drummond, by Peter Lawrence under Power of Attorney”. Instead, a clear crisp signature of Mrs. Drummond’s faced him.

  In his other hand, he held a letter he had received from her, written in the same time period, but this time, her signature was frail and shaky, due to her age and illness.

  The lawyer realized the signature on the bond document must be a forgery. But, to be sure, he picked up the phone and called the FBI. They would determine the validity of the bank document. He asked for the fraud division, and unknowingly initiated events which would culminate in death, loss and harm to those involved in this web of deceit, created by one man.

  Peter’s life continued, unaware that the FBI was quietly investigating his past and all that he did. No alarm was raised by Carla. No one at the house knew of Ann’s suspicions, not even Mrs. Drummond.

  In June, Nessa surprised Jamila with her own car, a cute Toyota Camry, maroon with silver interior, all in leather.

  “I don’t know how to drive, grandmother!” Jamila said in surprise.

  “I’m going to teach you,” Jamie said with a large smile, as everyone stood around enjoying the moment. “Just be sure not to kill the teacher,” he said in fun.

  Jamila look happy and scared at the same time. What 16 year old doesn’t want a car? She wasn’t too sure where she was going to go with it, and this country was so big, and still so new. But, she’d give it a try.

  Soon, the girl was driving into town, on errands and shopping for herself. She was growing up fast, and her grandmother couldn’t have been happier.

  In the evenings, Jamila would join Nessa in her suite of rooms. They’d talk of the day, of Jamila’s dreams and of Neilan, her father. She learned all about the Drummond clan and their history here and abroad. Jamila was transforming into an American. She started thinking more like one and less like a child from Jordan. Each night she gave and received a hug from her grandmother, a cherished gift of love between them.

  Summer was full on. Marty played and explored the island, promising to stay away from the water without an adult. Sometimes Jamila wished she was out there playing with her, but the desire to catch up, was stronger. On the weekends, however the girls took to exploring, swimming and having fun, as young people should. Occasionally they would go into town for a movie.

  Marty and Jamila were growing close. Jamila shared her stories of Meridah with her, and what their life had been like in Jordan. “You and Meridah are so close in age,” Jamila told her.

  Faye put together a large barbecue for the Fourth of July. That night, everyone sat in comfortable chairs watching the fireworks over the lake.

  The booming and explosions bothered Jamila. This was her first fireworks display, and it reminded her too much of the fighting she had lived through, in her short life, near the border of Syria and Israel, so close to the West Bank. Nessa reached over and placed her hand on her arm, squeezing gently, lovingly, reassuringly.

  Several weeks after the holiday, Ann received a call from Mr. Tillman.

  “Ann, I’d like to see you right away,” he informed her. “When would be a good time?”

  “I can come anytime. I’ll have to let Nessa know I’m going,” she informed him. “Everything’s okay, isn’t it? Was the money found?”

  “Let’s not talk about it over the phone. Keep Nessa out of it for a bit longer,” he told her. “Can you drop by around noon today? We’ll have lunch together.”

  “Sure, I’ll be there,” she said, saying good-bye, then hanging up.

  This doesn’t sound good. There must be something wrong, otherwise he’d have said so over the phone. Gosh, what’s going to happen to Nessa when she finds out about the missing money?

  Ann’s suspicions were confirmed upon entering Mr. Tillman’s office. She was introduced to Mr. Sidney Turner, an FBI agent, assigned to the case.

  “Our preliminary reports indicate the signature on the bond document is a forgery,” the agent told her. “And there are large amounts of money flowing through Mr. Lawrence’s personal accounts, that can’t be accounted for. We’re about to serve a subpoena for his books.”

  “It doesn’t look good, Ann,” David Tillman told her. “I wanted to let you know, for your sake, as well as Nessa’s.”

  “But, what can be done for Nessa? Can’t we freeze her accounts?” Ann asked, apprehensive for her friend.

  “That’s what we’re here to discuss. We want to coordinate your movements, both for yourself and for Nessa, with the FBI so we don’t jeopardize their investigation. Let’s talk about your money first,” the lawyer suggested.

  “There’s no telling if he’s embezzling until we can look at his books. We suspect he’s stealing from Mrs. Drummond, but we’ve no way of knowing if he’s doing the same with other accounts in his company until the auditors are done,” Sidney Turner said.

  “I want you to move all your assets to ‘Goldman, Sachs & Co’ as soon as possible,” Mr. Tillman told her. “I want you to let us know if there are any problems incurred in doing so.”

  “Use your agent at Lawrence & Fenway Diversified, Mr. Jason Kurtman, to transfer your accounts,” The FBI agent suggested. “Try to keep Mr. Lawrence out of it, if you can. Don’t say anything to alarm them. If your agent asks you why, just tell him your lawyer, Mr. Tillman has recommended it, for now.”

  “Is Mr. Kurtman in on it?” she asked, concerned.

  “We don’t know, probably not. So far, all the other employee accounts are clean,” he told her. “But we aren’t taking any chances.”

  David Tillman said, “I’m giving you a document to freeze Nessa’s accounts. It needs to be signed by her tonight. Be sure to set aside enough money to handle the estate for the next six months or so. We can always apply for a hardship waiver, if this goes on much longer than that. I want to be sure she can live comfortably, without undue stress.”

  “I’ll have to tell Nessa,” Ann said, worried about her friend.

  “Yes, I know,” David said, a little worried, as well.

  “Keep this just between us and Mrs. Drummond, please,” requested the agent. “It would be unfortunate if Mr. Lawrence got wind of this, before we were ready for it.”

  “Let’s take care of you now. Why don’t you call and see when you can get in to see Mr. Kurtman,” he suggested, as he handed her the phone.

  “The number is 921-4700, ext. 224,” Sidney Turner said, looking at his notebook.

  Dialing the number, she reached her financial agent.

  “Hello, Mrs. Henderson. How are you?” he asked.

  “Just fine Mr. Kurtman. Would it be possible to see you this afternoon?” she asked him.

  “Sure. What’s it about?” he requested.

  “I’d like to talk to you about it when I get there, if it’s okay with you,” she told him. “We might need about an hour.”

  “An hour? Well, I have time at 2:00.”

  “Good. That’ll be just fine, thank you,” she told him, her heart pounding with the intrigue.

  Saying good-bye, she hung up, and turned to the men sitting in the room.

  “Good. We’ll be waiting to hear from you Ann, and we’ll keep you informed on Mrs. Drummond’s situation,” the federal agent told her.

  “Help me determine what funds we might need. I’d like to go by the bank before my appointment. I’m not sure how to do this and it’s going to be a large amount,” she asked them.

  After determining her best course of action, Ann stood, thanked them and said good-bye.

  Walking from the bu
ilding, she fretted about her approaching appointment.

  At the bank, she took out $500,000 in cashier checks made out to the Drummond estate. With her ID and signature on file, there were no questions asked about the amounts she was asking for.

  This is too easy. How ironic it would be, if I should disappear with this money.

  She made it just in time for her appointment with Mr. Kurtman. He was surprised by her request to move everything, but he complied after trying to talk her out of it. ‘My lawyer asked me to’ was accepted without question, and the documents were signed and recorded.

  She called Sidney Turner, telling him everything went fine. Her assets were now safe.

  Now, how to tell Nessa, she thought as she got into her car, carrying the large sum of money, as well as the document needed to protect the Drummond estate.

  Getting home around 4:00 in the afternoon, she walked into the study, sat down at the desk, and put her head in her hands.

  Please help me through this, Lord. I grieve for Nessa. I don’t know what this is going to do to her. Help me break it to her gently. Mr. Turner thinks almost one hundred million dollars has passed through Peter Lawrence’s hands, if it’s all Mrs. Drummond’s… Oh Lord, help us through this.

  Unlocking the top drawer, she placed the document and money inside, then locked it.

  That evening, at dinner, it was hard for Ann to relax. Nessa noticed, as well as the nurse.

  “Bad day in bedrock?” asked Nessa with a little wit.

  “You could say that,” Ann said trying to smile. “Would you mind coming to the study after dinner? I need to discuss something with you, Nessa,” she asked a little too seriously.

  “Certainly, dear,” replied the head of the house. “It sure is quiet with Marty away at camp,” she added.

  “Too quiet, if you ask me,” Faye chimed in. “Are you excited about driving down to camp all by yourself tomorrow morning, Jamila?”

  “It’s a long way, but I have a good map, and my cell phone. It sounds like Marty’s having a wonderful time. I’m anxious to get there and see for myself,” she told them.

  “Are you all packed?” her grandmother asked.

  “Yes. Faye and Mrs. Bower have gone over it with me several times. I should have everything I need and probably a lot more,” she said with a laugh. “I can hardly wait to see the surprise on Marty’s face when I show up a couple of days early.”

  “You’ve worked very hard and deserve the extra few days,” Mrs. Bower told her, proud of her pupil.

  “How early are you leaving?” Nessa asked.

  “About 4:30 in the morning, grandmother,” replied Jamila.

  “Then, be sure to say good-bye to me tonight, dear, before I go to bed,” she said, smiling lovingly at her granddaughter.

  “I will,” she agreed, as the conversation continued around the table. Only Carla remained quiet, excusing herself when she was done.

  I wonder if I can find a place to hide in the study. I have to hear what this is all about. Ann looks so serious about something. But, should I? What if I get caught? It’s probably nothing, but what if it isn’t? I need to know for sure. I think I’ll take a look in there while everyone’s still at the table.

  Carla entered the study, looked around, and found a closet near the desk, holding some coats. She pushed the coats aside and stepped in, testing it out. Just as she was about to leave, she heard voices. They’re coming! Stepping back into the closet she closed the door, then pushed it open, just a crack. With her heart pounding in fear, she stayed as still as stone.

  Ann was talking to Nessa about camp and how much the girls should enjoy themselves. Closing the doors to the study, Ann and Nessa walked over to the chairs by the fireplace, now cold and quiet, and sat down. Their voices were soft, but Carla could hear them well enough, in the still of the room.

  “Nessa, I have some disturbing news I must share with you. Be assured, everything is being done to fix it as soon as possible,” Ann started.

  “Is it about Jamila?” the elderly woman asked in fear.

  “No, dear, Jamila’s fine,” Ann took a deep breath and continued. “Do you remember asking me to liquidate some money from your bond account a while ago?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly.

  “I discovered quite a lot of money missing from the account and took my concerns to David Tillman. Nessa… we’ve just found out the money was stolen.”

  Shocked, she wanted to know, “How much?”

  “At least two million dollars from your bonds, in fact, the FBI thinks there might be hundreds of millions of dollars involved. Not necessarily from you, but the person they suspect has had large amounts of money, that can’t be accounted for, moving through his accounts. They won’t know for sure yet, until the records are seized.”

  “Who do they suspect?” she asked anxiously.

  “Peter Lawrence,” Ann told her.

  Nessa gasped, and if they were aware of a smaller gasp echoing in the room, they didn’t show it.

  “Mr. Tillman has given me a document for you to sign so your accounts can be frozen. That way he won’t be able to get anything more out of them,” Ann told her.

  “I don’t believe it. I’ve trusted that man for years. Are they sure?” she wondered.

  “No, they’re not sure, but they think so, Nessa, I’m so sorry,” Ann offered. “I need you to sign the document tonight, because I want to give it to Mr. Tillman first thing in the morning, so he can execute it as soon as possible. He left two places on the document for witnesses. Faye and I will sign for you.”

  “Why would a man, married to two wealthy women need to steal money?” Nessa asked. “He has a great job that pays well too? Why?”

  “I’ve no idea, Nessa, but he has a lot to account for.”

  “When are they going to arrest him?” Nessa wanted to know.

  “Soon, I think, maybe within the next day or so. Once your accounts are frozen, he’d be alerted to trouble the minute he tries to access your money. They don’t want him alerted, so I assume they’ll seize his records and arrest him as soon as the document is filed. The FBI is keeping me informed. Are you very upset about it?” Ann wondered.

  “Yes and no. I need money to survive of course, and it makes me mad to be stolen from, but the older I get the more I realize that money’s only a tool, it’s a nice one to have, but not at the expense of family, friends, love and giving.”

  “What good did it do my husband, to pursue it all of his life?” she continued. “It made him feel important, powerful and of value, yet he lost the love of our son, and he drove me away with his hard heart and stubbornness. Now, he has missed out on Jamila, the most beautiful and sweetest child. How can money replace people, Ann? How can it bring happiness, when happiness is found in those you love? Gavin isn’t even mourned, really. How sad is that?” she asked forlornly.

  Ann and Nessa talked for a while, and then Nessa asked, “How are we going to live with the accounts frozen?”

  “Mr. Tillman and Mr. Turner recommended I take out some money. There’s $500,000 dollars in cashier checks in the top drawer for us to use. I hope it’ll be enough,” Ann worried.

  “Good. I’m glad David is looking out for us. Do you want me to wait until Faye is done in the kitchen, before I sign?” she asked.

  “I don’t see why not, we just have to get it done sometime tonight,” Ann stated.

  Carla ached to get out of the closet and warn Peter. She was getting stiff, and her muscles cried for relief, but she dared not move, for fear of making a noise, so she stood frozen behind the closet door.

  A few moments later, Ann and Nessa left the room.

  Stepping stiffly from the large cabinet, she cautiously stretched, then ran for the study doors. Peeking out, she could see Ann and Nessa entering the solarium. Bounding up the stairs, she ran for her room. She must get there before she was missed.

  I have to tell Peter! We’ll have to go away tonight.

  Smiling with
the thought of leaving at least, she went to her phone and dialed.

  Just before he answered, she thought, I wonder if the FBI has tapped his phone!

  Electricity ran through her, making her tremble.

  “Hello, Mr. Lawrence?” she asked in a professional tone.

  “Yes,” He answered, wondering what she was up to, for he recognized the phone number and her voice.

  “This is Miss Carla Sikes, Mrs. Drummond nurse.”

  “Yes,” he said a little irritated.

  “I was wondering if you could drop over tonight and discuss the surprise investment we were talking about, for Nessa’s next birthday?” she asked him.

  Peter started to fume, he was about to tell her off, when he realized, she’s never talked to me like this before, it’s as if she knows someone’s listening.

  His blood ran cold.

  Gathering his wits, he said, “Certainly Miss Sikes. Would an hour from now work for you?”

  “Can you make it sooner, Mr. Lawrence? I’d like to conclude our business before Mrs. Drummond goes to bed,” she asked him, with a tremor in her voice.

  Something’s up, he realized.

  “Yes, I can be there in a half hour,” he told her, as a shiver ran through him.

 

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