The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,80
of the Lovely cartel?”
I let this question sink in for a moment, and leaned towards the recorder and said, “What’s the idea of putting a gun to my head?”
Agent Huebner grabbed the recorder, looking frustrated and pushing buttons to erase what I said. “We’re not going to make much progress if you continue to act this way, Mr. Owen.”
Agent Belken opened the door and entered the room with my glass of water. “Don’t give him that,” said Agent Huebner. “Mr. Owen has decided to become uncooperative.”
“Oh, he has, huh?” snarled Agent Belken. He looked as though he was going to jump across the table and bite my head off, when Agent Huebner said, “I’ve got a few questions to ask him, and if he doesn’t give me the answers I want, you can have him.”
“Gooo-o-o-ooood,” murmured Agent Belken. “I’d like to make him talk.”
“Mr. Owen, you’d better learn to cooperate, and I mean fast, because if you make me lose patience, Agent Belken is known to be, well, somewhat uncontrollable. The bureau doesn’t really know what to do with him; they have to keep covering his tracks.”
Now I had seen enough cop shows to know the “good cop/bad cop” routine and could see that I was being “played” at the moment. In reality, the authorities can’t touch you in a questioning situation, but on the other hand, they can’t just kidnap you, either.
“What’s with the hood and cuffs … and gag? Why didn’t you just ask me to come with you?”
“We’re under time constraints, Mr. Owen. We think the cartel is moving to put a ‘hit’ on someone, and a little birdy said you’ve set somebody up. We’ve detected activity in the underground, and so far all evidence points to you.”
He turned the recorder back on. “Mr. Owen, did you order a hit today on anyone?”
Me order a hit? I almost started to defend myself, but thought about where this would lead. Instead, I said, “Today, I went to visit the Lovely Chocolate Company’s board of directors, to speak with them concerning a family I know, and for the good of the reputation of the company.”
“What are you, a lawyer?” sneered Agent Belken.
“No, I’m an engineer, working for the company Root and Bonham. I called the chairman of the board, Mr. Hal Ostrander, and was given three minutes to air my concerns, which I did.”
“What’s your concern about their chocolates?” Agent Belken muttered. “You don’t like companies making an honest profit? You some kind of communist?” he growled, getting closer to me on my side of the table.
Even though I was seated, I leaned backwards in my chair, bumping into the silent officer behind me. “No, I’m not a communist and yes, I do like the idea of companies making a profit from their hard work, in a fair and open competitive system. But my concern wasn’t for the immediate financial welfare of the company as much as it was for the family I was represent--“ I cut it off. Maybe I’d said too much.
Agent Huebner smiled and said, “This family you were represent--ing, are they somehow involved in the planned hit? You’d better talk fast, Mr. Owen; someone’s life may be at stake!”
Yes, how well I knew that Dr. Franklin Burke’s life was at stake, but I also knew the cartel gave me a gag order; if I talked, they might go after people I cared about. If these officers let me go, maybe I could still warn Dr. Burke!
“The only people I saw were members of the board. I told them my concerns, and they responded.”
“What did they say? Did they order the hit?” asked Agent Belken, the bad cop.
“There was no talk of a hit, and really what they said is none of your business.”
Agents Huebner and Belken looked at each other; Agent Belken grinned. Agent Huebner said, “Okay, I’ve tried to be nice about it. Agent Belken, he’s all yours!” Agent Huebner stood up and away from the table while Agent Belken sat down directly in front of me.
Taking the recorder and sticking it near my jaw, he said, “You better tell me what I want to hear, and if there’s any resistance, any at all, we’re going to trump up some charges and throw you in the slammer, with some not-so-very nice people. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”
I shook my head in the “No” manner and said, “What would you like to hear?”