Page 100 of The Suit

“Is it?” Professor Grannery replied for me.

My plans to fly straight to Chicago yesterday had not been best laid. After Rafe had stormed out, I’d stood under the shower for over an hour trying to figure out how to approach the steaming shit pile of a mess I was in. And as another first for me, I realized it was probably not something I could do alone.I needed help from someone who’d taught me a good deal of what I knew, someone who wouldn’t be afraid to take on Maloney Feather and his

consortium of not-so-petty criminals - someone who’d thrive on the challenge. Because I had absolutely no doubt that the second he knew I was coming for him, he would turn the firm into a snarling pack of rabid dogs that even I couldn’t defend myself against.

Instead of booking my flights to Chicago for first thing the next morning, I booked them for the evening. And when I got out of the shower, I’d fired off another text to Rafe, then rummaged in my pockets for the business card Professor Grannery had given me.

I’d expected her to take some time to mull it over, but she’s only responded by asking me when we were leaving.

My second call was one I was less keen to make. I’d scrolled through my contacts until I found the number of the guy who’d caused me the biggest headache of the year, then texted Kit to let her know everything was in motion.

Which is how I was now sitting here, with my old law professor, in a room located in the depths of the Chicago FBI branch with one large mirror on the wall I was facing - no doubt being monitored both by cameras and several other FBI agents wanting a piece of the action brewing between Agent Diggs and a woman in her late fifties. But if he thought he was going to get very far with the scowl he kept shooting her way, he was sorely mistaken.

Following another glare, he turned back to me. “Okay, let’s start again. What exactly are you reporting?”

I didn’t rise to the bait of him asking the same question for what must have been the eleventh time, including when I’d called him yesterday afternoon to request an audience regarding a serious breach of financial conduct. And since we were yet to touch on any of that, I was beginning to think he had only agreed to meet with me so he could I interrogate me further on the thorn of last year clearly still stuck in his side.

Professor Grannery shifted in her seat, and I held my hand out to stop her from jumping in again.

“As I’ve previously stated and my lawyer has reiterated, I’m voluntarily coming forward to report serious malpractice within my firm, which I have both witnessed on several occasions and heard about, pertaining to tax evasion, fraud, and breaches of government sanctions to name a few.”

He cleared his throat. “And this is something you’ve participated in as well?”

I stopped Professor Grannery from jumping in again. Having spent several hours in Agent Diggs’ company last year, I’d known how thorough he would be in his questioning. I’d also known he would give me a hard time, both of which I’d been prepared for. I was planning to tell the truth.

“I don’t work in the department which runs the services my lawyer is referring to. I am aware of it happening due to the cross-practice divisions of my firm which my current client holds on retainer.”

He clicked the top of his pen. “You only have one client at a time? That’s unusual for an international firm this size, is it not?”

I smiled, “Not really. I have several clients that overlap, but only one core client at a time.”

“And can you tell me the name of this current client?” He smiled back, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes. Johnson Maynard,”

He coughed into his fist. “Johnson Maynard, of Maynard Holdings? He’s a client of Feather Smythe Jones?”

I leaned forward to emphasize my point. “Yes.”

“And he’s your client in what capacity?”

“I’m leading his divorce settlement.”

Or was leading, I should have said, though technically I still worked there as I hadn’t sent in a letter of resignation, and I assumed they weren’t yet aware I was currently sitting where I was currently sitting, spilling the beans. The only thing I had done was have Blake meet me where I’d told him enough to warn him, but not enough that he’d get into trouble, or be dragged down by Feather. I wanted to give him deniability when he needed it.

“He’s getting divorced?”

“Yes,”

He looked over his shoulder, to the mirror on the wall behind and raised an eyebrow, then turned back to me. “That’s been kept quiet…”

“Agent Diggs, get to the point,” snapped Professor Grannery, earning herself another scowl.

“It has. We don’t want to publicize to his shareholders he’s giving away half his net worth and a portion of the company before we need to.”

He sat back in his chair, balancing it on two legs while he stared at me, then dropped again to all four with a loud snap. “What’s Johnson Maynard hiding?”

“Approximately eight billion dollars in assets, scattered across shell corporations that a department known as the CUT, or Cover-Up Team set up, and run for him.”

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