Free THE TAINTED TRUST: A DOUGLASS CRIME AND ROMANCE THRILLER SERIES (THE KING TRILOGY Book 2) by Stephen Douglass Page B

blessings to proceed with his planned short sale. Each time Dennis advised him to wait, his advice driving Visconti to unchartered levels of desperation.
    The spot price of West Texas Intermediate had dropped to fifteen dollars a barrel by the end of May, and Visconti’s hopes had plunged with it. Convinced he had missed his seat on the boat intended to deliver him from his nightmare, it was apparent that he would have to falsify a third consecutive quarterly report to Mike King. Deeply discouraged, he telephoned Assif Raza in Kuwait City. After an agonizing delay of more than twenty minutes, Raza finally answered, “Sorry to keep you waiting, Louis. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
    “I need some information, Assif. It’s extremely important… When we first met over a year ago, you told me that you and your fellow investors expected the price of crude oil to drop a long way. Do you still think it will?”
    “Nothing has happened to change our opinion. There is no factor, with the exception of the Saudis, which we think is capable of providing sustained support to the price of crude oil.”
    “If that’s true, what’s keeping it up?”
    Raza chuckled. “Forgive me, Louis. I have difficulty understanding your question. We haven’t seen the price as low as fifteen dollars for a long time.”
    “That’s true,” Visconti conceded. “But you said it would drop to five, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, and we still believe it will, because we don’t think the Saudis can continue to carry the full weight of world crude prices on their shoulders for ever.”
    “How soon? Can you give me an informed opinion?”
    “I can only assure you that we believe in the inevitability of a crash. The longer the price of crude oil defies gravity, the further and faster it will drop.”
    Raza’s words were sweet music to Visconti’s ears, nourishment for his obsession.

CHAPTER 25
    Toronto. Friday, June 24, 1988.
    Phillip received his high school diploma in late June, a bittersweet experience for Mike and Karen. His marks were abysmal, barely high enough to pass. His teachers spoke of their enormous frustration with the boy. Tests had confirmed his extremely high intelligence level, yet consistently low marks had revealed a low level of motivation. His teachers agreed that his poor academic performance would make it nearly impossible for him to be accepted at any reputable university, and strongly recommended a repeat of his final year.
    Armed with that information and Phillip’s final marks, Mike and Karen confronted him. Karen was stricken with the embarrassment most mothers feel when one of their children does poorly in school. Mike felt a strong sense of failure and frustration. In spite of all his efforts and attention, he had been unable to motivate Phillip to realize his potential.
    Instead of eating alone in front of the television set in the den, as Phillip normally did, he joined his parents for dinner in the dining room, planning to remind them of the car they had promised to commemorate his high-school graduation. He dressed for the occasion; baggy blue jeans, a heavy multicolored T-shirt, and scruffy sneakers.
    While Karen stared at her son, she was brutally reminded of her former husband. His baby fat had given way to muscle, forming a firm body structure very similar to that of his father. She was horrified by his unshaven face and the tiny gold earring in his left earlobe. She winced as he jerked a chair from beneath the table, then allowed himself to flop onto it. “Phillip, how many times have I told you to sit gently?” she scolded.
    “Sorry,” Phillip said, smirking as if he took pleasure in annoying her. “I forgot.”
    “It’s apparent that isn’t all you forgot,” Mike barked.
    Phillip flashed a defiant stare. “What do you mean by that?”
    “Your marks clearly indicate that you forgot to work hard in school. Your mother and I were so concerned that we arranged interviews with each of