Chapter 11 – Rearranging Assets

Tim McGee

Despite his extremely late nights over the past weekend, Tim was in a good mood even as he worked through the tedious task of balancing the Monday books. He had met an interesting woman and they had hit it off. Then last night… last night had been amazing.

He smiled to himself as he paused in his calculations.

He had never been one to jump into bed with a woman. Growing up as the son of a navy officer, he had been raised to be a gentleman. Respect and honor had been drilled into him for as long as he could remember. Granted, his father had also preached that he ought to wait until marriage for intimate relations with a woman, but he wasn't such a bluenose. Apparently, that was another one of his father's lessons that hadn't stuck.

He couldn't put a finger on what it was exactly. He and Abby had just connected. It was like an electric spark between them. And since he met her on Thursday night, he had been ridiculously happy.

The only thing that tamped his good mood was that he wouldn't see Abby tonight because Quicksilver was closed on Mondays.

But then he realized that he could see her tonight. She had given him the number to her apartment. He would wait and call her after lunch to make sure he didn't wake her though. Maybe she'd like to go to dinner with him. He even had a great little Spanish restaurant in mind.

"Gemcity," a voice said drawing him from his thoughts.

"Yes, Mr. Napolitano," he said as he stood. Naps was standing in his doorway and looked drawn and tired.

"Don't stand on my account," he said as he entered Tim's office. Naps took a moment to shut the door to the hallway before he strolled in and looked around. "You did the place up nice," Naps said as he eyed a detailed model sailing ship with the name Bonhomme Richard painted on her hull which he had ensconced on the book case and then several paintings of the beach, which were hanging on his walls. All in all, the office was now decorated rather nicely compared to how he had found it on his first day.

He might not have joined the navy like his father but the sea was engrained in his psyche. Despite his well-known issues with seasickness, he loved the ocean. Having lived near an ocean throughout his childhood, the smells and the sounds were comforting to him. Having images of the sea in his office was the closest he could get for now.

"What can I do for you sir?" he asked.

Jimmy chuckled dryly. "You don't have to 'sir' me," Jimmy said as he sat down.

He smiled wryly. "Sorry. Habits," he said as he retook his seat.

Jimmy nodded. "It's going to be an interesting next couple of days. I need you to flex that brain of yours to work out some creative accounting."

"This is about the Tin Angel," Tim said unnecessarily.

"Of course. It was bad enough they chose to raid her but the law has had their eyeballs on her since Thursday night. It hasn't been safe to reopen. I've been talking with several associates trying to determine how my social club drew the ire of the Prohibition Unit and how I can get them to leave my club alone," Napolitano replied as he pulled a few sheets of paper and handed them to Tim. "Several more payments that need to be worked out."

Tim opened the sheets and glanced over them. Of course, they were in code but he recognized some as payments for information, even if he didn't know the name that went with the payment. All the names in the book were in code and he could tell that there was a pattern. He just didn't know what it was. If he had one name to start with, he felt like he could start to crack it.

"I'll add this to the books right away," he said with a nod.

"Good," Jimmy said. "So, I hear you had a good weekend."

He nodded, unsurprised that Jimmy had heard about his weekend with Miss Sciuto. Any and all of Jimmy's associates could potentially relay information back to him, which made his precarious position all the more dangerous.

Jimmy grinned but then grew serious. "Personally, I'm glad someone did and I'm glad you weren't in the Tin Angel Thursday night."

It wasn't a statement so much as it was a question. Jimmy wanted to know why they hadn't been in the Tin Angel Thursday night. Since he had been hired, he and Tony had exclusively patronized the Tin Angel because it was the best club in town. Quicksilver on the other hand hadn't been known for anything.

"Tony, my body guard, heard that the singer at Quicksilver was something to see so we decided to see her act instead of heading to the Tin Angel."

"Is she?" Jimmy asked with the hint of a smile. "Something to see?"

"I don't know," he replied bluntly. "As I'm sure you've heard; I was a bit preoccupied with the club's manager."

Jimmy laughed boisterously. "I did hear that. Abby Sciuto. She's an odd bird and not one I'd expect you to go after." Tim shrugged. "But to each his own. Good for you, Tim."

"Speaking of Quicksilver," Tim said changing the topic away from his personal life. "Some of La Grenouille's men had eyeballs on the place last night."

"The Frog? Really?" Naps asked surprised. "That's the first I've heard of this."

"Tony noticed the goons," he replied. That wasn't entirely true. Gibbs had noticed the goons but it made more sense to give the credit to his bodyguard than to a handyman. "And Abby told me one of her shipments of product was stolen last week. They were outnumbered, outclassed and the shipment was taken without a fight."

"Really?" Naps asked raising an eyebrow. "Clearly the head of security isn't doing his job if his bootlegger let the Frog's men walk off with a shipment without a fight."

"Your head of security at Quicksilver, Monroe Cooper, is an incompetent washed up detective. He's also a drunkard," Tim replied bluntly. "He couldn't spot a barn if he was standing in front of it." Jimmy was looking at him intently but he didn't interrupt. "Quicksilver's bootlegger is good but he's not up to running liquor for a first rate. Now I think that up until recently, this wasn't a problem. Grenouille wasn't interested in a hole like Adam's Tavern but Abby has made a lot of improvements and Miss David is drawing the crowds. Even when she isn't singing, Abby has booked some of the best hot music in town. Quicksilver, under Abby's management, is one of the hottest clubs right now and that's gotten the Frog's attention."

"That's what I've been hearing," Jimmy said.

"He's making a play for the neighborhood," Tim said. "He acquired a blind tiger just up the street. It gives him a foothold and could be a stepping stone to take Quicksilver."

"So, La Grenouille has his eyes on my club," Jimmy said. "You got any suggestions?"

Tim nodded. This was stretching things a bit, but he had put a lot of thought into how this might work. Now he just needed to see if it would. "I've heard that Blue McGinty knows his oats."

"DiNozzo used to work with him," Jimmy said. "He runs the site security for the Tin Angel."

"Which really won't need much security these days," Tim replied. Jimmy frowned. "The Prohis may not have found anything illegal at the Tin Angel, but it's going to be a while before your customers are going to come back even if the law leave off their surveillance." Jimmy's frown deepened. "Even if you served liquor, people don't want to risk getting pinched when there are plenty of other options in town. We need to minimize your losses at the Tin Angel by downsizing operations there and boosting them where we can stand to gain ground. Why spend money at a place no one's going?"

Naps looked at him, intrigued. "I'm listening," Napolitano said.

"So, if people aren't going to the Tin Angel, they're going to go elsewhere. We need to make sure that they pick one of your clubs and right now Quicksilver could be that next great club if you play your cards right. Abby's brought this place back to life," he said. "It's gotten to be a popular place by word of mouth. She runs a tight ship and has made a tidy profit in spite of all the money she put out to renovate the club. Once she pays off her debts, Quicksilver will be a moneymaker. With some better security and some advertising, I think you won't even miss the Tin Angel's profits."

"You just want me to shift resources to your girlfriend's club," Naps stated.

"No," he said earnestly as he pulled up a sheet of paper and pointed to some notes he had made this morning. "No, I have other suggestions too. Tango Eight is a good dance hall but the house band is lousy. Send them the Tin Angel's band and I think you'll see business pick up in no time. Tease could use a better bartender and Air Tropica could use an accountant that's capable of basic math. Promote the assistant accountant from the Tin Angel. Renny Grant is more than capable enough to run her books."

Jimmy picked up his notes and scanned them. He had made a list of positions from the Tin Angel and who he thought had to stay and who could be utilized elsewhere. Then he had made detailed notes and sketches of each club's earnings. Beside that he had notes about the type of club and what might improve their earnings.

"Where'd you get all this information about my clubs?" Napolitano asked as he paged through his notes.

He shrugged. "DiNozzo mostly. He worked at the Tin Angel before he was my shadow. And he worked at Tango Eight for a while before that. He's also got friends among your bootleggers so he hears things."

"His former coworkers," Napolitano mused.

"Yeah," he nodded. He smiled wryly. "He wasn't too happy when I kept him up most of the night grilling him for this information."

"I can't imagine he would be." Napolitano looked at his notes then at him. Suddenly he smiled. "You've got a shrewd head for business, Tim, my boy."

He looked down at the books and replied, "Comes with the territory, Mr. Napolitano. You crunch enough numbers and eventually you learn a trick or two."

"Well trick or no, I think you've got the right idea. I'll get Blue onto Quicksilver's security today. Last thing I want is for that lousy Frenchman to take one of my clubs, let alone a good one," Jimmy said. "Anything else?"

"Alex Tanner," Tim replied quickly. "DiNozzo worked with him when he was running the Tin Angel's bootlegging operation. He thinks that Tanner would help keep Miss Sciuto's supply lines safe. Tony says he's trustworthy and discrete."

Jimmy nodded. "Done. And I'll look into your suggestions here. I'll be back if I have any questions."

Tim nodded. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," he said.

Miss Stegman opened the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt Mr. Gemcity." He nodded. "Mr. Napolitano. A Mr. Fornell is here to see you. He says he can't stay for more than a few minutes," Miss Stegman said.

Napolitano nodded. "Show him in, Ms. Stegman," Jimmy said as he left for his office, closing the door between their offices as he left. He returned to his work but looked up when Fornell passed by the door to the hallway, which Miss Stegman had left cracked open. Fortunately, Fornell hadn't looked into his office. The man was all business as he bee-lined towards Jimmy's office.

The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that Fornell was a cop. He might even be in the Prohibition Unit or the Bureau of Investigation. Suddenly Tim blinked in realization. Fornell might be the mole.

Getting up, Tim shut the outer door. Surreptitiously, he made his way over to his filing cabinet and began to sort through the files on the pretense that he was looking for legal places to liquidate the Tin Angel's assets. At least that's what he would say if Naps would suddenly enter his office.

"You demanded to see me, Napolitano," Fornell said, not bothering to keep his voice down. He was clearly irritated.

"Yeah," Naps replied. "You heard about the Tin Angel."

"Of course I did," Fornell replied. "Everyone at the Prohibition Unit is pissed that they couldn't get you for something." Tim blinked. Fornell was a Prohi.

"No thanks to you Fornell," Naps said hotly. "I find it awfully convenient that you weren't around Thursday."

"I was escorting a suspect in a kidnapping case to Philadelphia," Fornell replied coolly. His mind whirled. If Fornell was dealing with a kidnapper, he probably wasn't a Prohi then. Which made Fornell a Bureau of Investigation Agent. "I didn't get back until Friday morning. And I didn't know about the raid until I got back. And before you ask, I didn't hear about it before hand. They kept a tight lid on this one."

"As I said, awfully convenient," Napolitano replied. "I asked you here so you could remind me why I pay you."

Tim blinked in surprise. Fornell was on the books. If they talked a price, he might be able to crack the code.

"First of all, let's get one thing straight," Fornell said hotly. "You didn't ask me here. You demanded that I come here, which is a huge risk on my part."

"What you think that someone is watching the front door?" Napolitano asked.

"It's not impossible," Fornell retorted. There was a moment of stark silence before Fornell continued. "Secondly, I don't help you out because of the money you 'pay' me," Fornell retorted derisively. Tim wondered why he emphasized the word 'pay' but without seeing what was going on, he could only speculate. "And you know that. I'm not going to go out of my way to find you information at the risk of my job."

"Perhaps you need a reminder of how you got into this mess, Fornell," Napolitano said. "You volunteered."

"I know that," replied Fornell so softly that Tim barely heard him. "But you know well enough that five dollars a week doesn't cover the interest you're charging and the 'bonuses' you give me for big information isn't worth the risk, Napolitano. If I'm thrown in jail, I'll never work off Diane's debt. Then you'll be left with a woman who can't pay you back and no inside information so don't go threatening me. You got your information in time. The Prohis didn't find anything illegal at your property."

"Threatening?" Napolitano asked. Tim could tell that he was losing this battle and was now trying to turn things in his favor once again. "I'm not threatening you, Fornell."

"Sure sounded like it to me," Fornell muttered.

"I was reminding you," Napolitano said jovially. "And this is a friendly reminder that the better the information, the more money you get. Remember that tip about the raid at the docks a few months ago? I took a hundred dollars off your wife's debt for that."

"Ex-wife," Fornell replied bitterly. "And that was only a fraction of what you made on that liquor."

"True," Napolitano replied. "You bring me the good stuff and I promise I'll be more generous, Fornell."

Tim could tell the conversation was winding down, so he returned to his desk. He had a lot of work to do. It was going to take time to rearrange the Tin Angel's assets and now he had a research project. He might have enough information to try to track down Fornell in the books. If he was lucky, he would be able to use this information to crack the code.

He looked up as he heard footsteps pass by his office. Fornell had left.

If Fornell was the mole, he was certainly a reluctant one. It sounded like Fornell's ex-wife had gotten into some financial troubles with Napolitano and Fornell had stepped in to help her out. Now Napolitano was using Fornell for his own purposes. If that was the case, it certainly explained Fornell's attitude when they first met two months ago.

All the same, he wondered why Fornell would stick his neck out for his ex-wife. He had a feeling there was still a lot more to this story than he knew.

But if Fornell was leaking information to Napolitano, it didn't matter if he was doing it to protect his ex. They still had to put a stop to it.

Hopefully they could manage it without any innocent people paying the price in the process.

He frowned as he picked up his pencil. Why did he have a feeling that wasn't going to be the case?