Free Money to Burn by James Grippando Page B

within Saxton Silvers’ protocol to fire someone so long as there were more than two people in the room. At least I still had clients to go with me.
    Thank God I didn’t drink the Kool-Aid.
    “Concerned about what?” I asked.
    She came to the edge of her chair and leaned toward Eric, hands folded atop her knees. It was her I’m-talking-to-the-president-and-only-to-the-president posture.
    “Here’s the thing,” said Sonya. “Michael’s in management—an officer of the company—with access to inside information. He sold his shares the day before the firm publicly announced another twenty-two billion dollars in subprime write-downs. That could trigger an SEC investigation for insider trading.”
    “But I didn’t sell anything. An identity thief liquidated my account and moved the money offshore.”
    “But if I’m the SEC, your explanation raises an obvious question: Who controls the secret Cayman Islands account? In other words, are you operating behind a cleverly crafted financial and corporate shell game to avoid going to jail for illegal insider trading?”
    “I hear what you’re saying,” said Eric, shaking his head. “But that’s a very cynical view.”
    Sonya said, “I’m not making any accusations, but from a regulator’s standpoint, the timing of the sale and resultant profit seem a little too convenient.”
    I checked the TV on the wall. The audio was muted, but Bell was still on the air and the breaking-news banner proclaimed that Saxton Silvers’ stock was down another thirty dollars per share—about ninety dollars for the day.
    “Do the math,” said Sonya. “How many shares did you hold, Michael?”
    “About ten thousand and change.”
    “So the difference between selling yesterday and selling today…about a million dollars, right?”
    Her theory couldn’t have been further from the truth, but the implication still gave me chills.
    “Look, I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “I have no idea who accessed my account, and I have no clue where that money is headed. Why would I use the firm’s outside counsel to enlist the help of the FBI if I was the one behind the scheme?”
    “As I recall,” said Sonya, “hiring Cool Cash and going to the FBI was my idea.”
    Her remark made me bristle. “What are you trying to say?”
    “The fact that the firm called the FBI won’t stop the regulators from being highly suspicious about the timing of your ‘identity theft.’”
    I showed her my hand. “What about the package I got this morning? You and Brewer told me not to talk to the FBI, and I talked to them anyway when they came to check out the elevator. Is that what a crook does when he’s hiding something?”
    She didn’t answer.
    “The fact is,” I said, “I didn’t know about the additional subprime write-down that was going to be announced today. Eric just told me about it ten minutes ago.” I glanced at my mentor. He looked ashen. “Isn’t that right, Eric?”
    He breathed in and out, staring at the television.
    “Eric?”
    “I just did the math for myself,” he said. “I lost two-hundred-forty million in the last forty-five minutes.”
    I ran a hand through my hair. “This is insane.”
    “It also changes things,” said Sonya. “It no longer seems appropriate for the firm to have its outside counsel dealing with the FBI on your behalf.”
    “Why not?”
    “Conflict of interest. Saxton Silvers shouldn’t use its lawyers to represent someone who might be accused of illegally trading its stock.”
    “My life savings are disappearing deeper and deeper into the international banking system with every passing minute and you want me to change lawyers now?”
    “The FBI has already been alerted. Agents are on the case. There’s really nothing more for you to do on that front. It’s only a question of follow-up.”
    “Now you’re pissing me off, Sonya.”
    “Calm down, Michael,” said Eric.
    “No,” I said. “I’ve done nothing wrong, and without the