Juliette
S unday arrived with the team having more questions than answers. As enlightening as Saturday had been, the reason for their investigation was still not clear. Although Madison and Cooper tried to befriend Bianchi, he remained standoffish. Cooper even followed him into the men’s room at one point but discovered the man used a stall rather than positioning himself at the row of urinals to pee. Cooper even remained at the urinal, giving Bianchi a glance as he opened the stall door. Bianchi kept his gaze averted throughout his handwashing and retreat from the otherwise vacant men’s room.
The Digital Team came up with very little on Bianchi Senior. As far as his weapons, he had never completed a firearm application with the state of Maryland or anywhere else. He also had never been arrested, charged, or convicted of any crime. The man had never even had a traffic ticket. He looked as squeaky clean as his son.
“We’re missing something,” Doc said as they recapped what they knew and all they didn’t know. “If I didn’t do this job, I would have guns and wouldn’t have any of them registered with the state either, so that isn’t an issue for me that Bianchi Senior has weapons in his footlocker. At least they were unloaded and locked up. I find his gambling more of an issue.”
“Yeah, he spent hours at the tables last night and it looked like he was losing,” Michael said. They’d followed him to the casino when he left his wife’s care home.
“Especially if he lost big to the wrong people,” Wilson agreed.
“Bianchi Junior is ripe for being blackmailed if he’s trying to keep the gay porn shit under wraps,” Cooper said.
“I almost feel sorry for him, so repressed. No real friends at work and it appears none in his personal life. The bartender confirmed he never talks to anyone in the bar besides waitstaff,” Madison said. “Has to be lonely. And if his dad doesn’t know he’s gay, how much do they really interact in the house?”
“Well, they’re on different schedules with Junior working overnights,” Wilson said. “So maybe not much.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Garcia said. He had his tablet open in front of him. The split screen displayed Bianchi’s kitchen on one quarter of the screen, his bedroom where he still slept below it, the camera that aimed at the front door that was hidden in the cold air return across the room was in the upper right section, and the image from the camera in Senior’s room focused on his still form in the bed in the lower. “It’s nearly fourteen hundred. One or both of them should be getting up soon.”
“As soon as they’re up, we deploy to cover their movements, same assignments as yesterday. If we don’t find something today, Shepherd’s pulling the plug on the investigation,” Cooper said.
Wilson couldn’t say he was surprised. But he also had a gut feeling this was something. They just hadn’t figured out what it was yet. He voiced his thoughts and was thoughtful for a moment. “If it’s going to be shut down, maybe a direct approach is what it’s going to take,” he said. “I mean, if we make Bianchi believe we know what the case is we’re investigating that involves him and a Saudi businessman, maybe he’ll spill it.”
“Hell, it’s worth a try,” Cooper said. “Okay, we proceed as planned. If nothing shakes loose, we confront Bianchi Junior at his home after he leaves the Little Falcon today.”
“And Senior?” Doc asked.
“If he’s there, we confront him too,” Cooper said.
“Without outing Junior to Senior,” Madison spoke up. “If his dad doesn’t know he’s gay, it’s not our place to out him.”
The rest of the team agreed.
Garcia and Wilson tailed Bianchi all over town. It was his errand day. He hit the grocery store, pharmacy, and the public library to return several books, and he ran his car through the carwash. Then he ended up at the Little Falcon, where Cooper and Madison were already two beers in.
After another day of tailing Senior to the casino, Doc and Michael were happy to hear that Bianchi Junior finally ended up at his favorite watering hole. They hoped he’d return home after his meal and two beers. Senior was still sitting at a table and losing.
Madison and Cooper again tried to engage Bianchi in conversation. Again, they failed. He ate his meal, drank a few beers, and then left. Wilson and Garcia followed. When it was clear he was heading home, Cooper and Madison left the bar, heading there as well.
Upon arrival in front of Bianchi’s house, Madison and Cooper slid into the back seat of the car Wilson and Garcia were in. They discussed the tactic they’d use. Then the four of them approached the house. It was deemed no risk that Bianchi would flee, so no one was needed at the back door. Madison stood in front of the others. She rang the doorbell.
When Bianchi opened the door, his surprise was unmistakable. When Madison produced her FBI badge, that surprise turned to confusion and fear. “I, I don’t understand,” he stammered.
“May we come in?” Madison asked.
Bianchi stepped back, shaking his head in utter bewilderment. The team followed him in. Wilson was the last to enter. He closed the front door behind himself. Bianchi stood in the living room awkwardly.
“I recognize you,” Bianchi said to Garcia. “You’re from the computer room at work.”
“We’ve been investigating you,” Madison began. “We received a tip regarding your conversations with a certain Saudi businessman.”
Bianchi looked like he was about to throw up. “Khalad Bashar?”
Madison nodded. “Yes. What can you tell us about him?”
“That I wish I’d never heard his name,” Bianchi said, looking more unstable on his feet.
“Why don’t we sit down?” Cooper said, motioning to Bianchi’s living room couch.
Bianchi dropped himself onto the far left of the couch. Cooper sat in the middle right section. Madison sat across from him in the rocking chair, leaving Garcia and Wilson to stand on either side of Madison, as there were no more seats in the room.
“Let’s drag a few kitchen chairs in,” Wilson said to Garcia after evaluating how intimidating it had to feel to Bianchi that they stood as they did. In any other situation, intimidation would have been the intention, but not in this one. Bianchi was clearly already intimidated enough.
“Khalad Bashar?” Madison repeated gently. Wilson was impressed as she adjusted her approach.
“Yes, he tried to blackmail me into clearing his organization’s shipments without a proper inspection. I didn’t though and I’m waiting for him to make good on his threats.”
“What threats, exactly?” Madison asked.
“You don’t know?”
Wilson watched him slump in his seat. The man was embarrassed and defeated. If it was what he suspected, Bianchi would never say it out loud. “We need to hear it in your words, but let’s start with this. Tell us how it unfolded. How did the communications begin?” Wilson asked.
“I think the term is catfished,” Bianchi began. “Looking back now, I should have suspected.” He shrugged. Or was it a shudder? Wilson couldn’t tell.
“A lot of really intelligent people are catfished every year. Those doing it are skilled. And let’s face it, most people aren’t suspicious of everyone and everything,” Madison said. “They take things at face value.”
Bianchi nodded. “Well, you can believe I’ll be more suspicious of everything and everyone.”
“How’d it start?” Madison pressed gently.
“It was on an app, swipe right, swipe left,” he said, mocking himself. “I never really thought twice about using the same picture on my work email and using it in my personal life. It was a good picture. We’re required to have a picture on our email for work. Makes it more of a personal customer service experience for our customers is what the company brass has said. Bradford Bianchi at MRG Enterprises dot com. And my personal email, Bradford Bianchi at gmail dot com. Didn’t occur to me anyone would look for me, want to set me up and I’d made it super easy for them.” He shook his head in disgust.
“We live in a sick world,” Cooper agreed. “How’d he do it?”
“I don’t know how he found my account on that site. It’s supposed to be anonymous, your email address and real name. My site name is BB ten-twenty, my birthday, October twentieth.”
“The site sends you email regarding your account?” Garcia asked.
Bianchi nodded.
“He probably hacked your email account first and then saw the emails from the dating app site. From there it was easy enough for him to find your account on the dating site, set up a fake profile of his own, and initiate communication,” Garcia said.
“My own email account led him there?” Bianchi asked.
“Yeah, more than likely. Had it been a hetero dating profile, he’d have set up a fake female profile to use.”
“Remember, these people are skilled at what they do,” Cooper reminded him.
“So he initiated communication with you in the dating app?” Madison asked.
“Yes. He sent me a message, said all the right things, looking for friendship and perhaps more, but definitely friendship and someone to talk to first. Must have read my profile and created his to mirror mine. We talked for weeks about work, family, life, unfulfilled dreams. And before you ask, yes, things got very personal, and a bit risqué. I’d never done anything like that before. It was fun, and I thought I’d found someone like me, wanting to take the next step, but unable to due to current life circumstances.”
“Why are you unable to? What life circumstance?” Madison asked.
“Hello, my father. I can’t tell him I’m gay,” Bianchi said.
“You’re forty-two years old, for God’s sake!” Wilson said. “Isn’t it time you grow a pair and tell your father who you really are?”
“It’s about respect. It would kill my father if he knew I was gay. He’s old-school Italian. In his world, a man just isn’t attracted to another man,” Bianchi said. “And he sure as hell doesn’t act on his feelings or urges. No, in my father’s world you marry some poor woman who hasn’t a clue that you’re thinking of sticking it into some guy’s ass when you’re having sex with her, make a few babies, and live unhappily ever after.”
“That sounds pitiful and extremely dishonest. And what about you? Don’t you deserve to be with who you want to be with?” Wilson asked.
“I will when my dad is gone.”
“You could have a boyfriend or even just a lover and keep him under wraps from your dad, you know,” Wilson suggested.
“Tried that. And look what happened to me. I thought I found a guy who was like me. But he wasn’t. He turned out to be a married guy from Saudi Arabia looking to get his company’s goods pass U.S. Customs inspections quickly. He couldn’t romance me into doing it for him, so he tried blackmail instead.”
Wilson felt bad for Bianchi. Bianchi thought he’d found a kindred spirit, a potential partner. What he’d really found, though, was a corrupt Saudi businessman looking to get his company’s imports into the country more quickly. And it had been picked up on by the CIA, and here they were, following up on it and making this guy feel even worse.
“Worst-case scenario, he follows through on his blackmail threat. What happens?” Madison asked.
“What do you mean, what happens?” Bianchi demanded. “My life is over.”
“It’s not over,” Cooper argued. “Being gay isn’t a crime. And most people don’t give a damn who you love.”
“You know, I was jealous of you when you walked into the Falcon, a gay man living his life, his sister openly talking about his boyfriend. You don’t know how lucky you are,” he told Cooper. “And now to know that you’re a Federal Agent, and openly gay. You’re an inspiration. I can’t be like you.”
Wilson was surprised Bianchi hadn’t put it together that Cooper was faking being gay to try to have an in with him. This guy really was na?ve. He hadn’t learned a thing from being catfished.
Cooper wouldn’t ruin it for him. “I get that you respect your dad and don’t want to cause the kind of friction you would if he knew. You’re a good son. You help pay for your mom’s care. You let your dad move in. With his gambling debts, he obviously isn’t in a financial position to pay for your mom’s care or probably even keep a roof over his head.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Bianchi said.
“There’s more?” Cooper asked.
“Well, yeah,” Bianchi said in a dramatic fashion.
“So, Dad, what?” Cooper pressed.
“He crossed some very dangerous people,” Bianchi said. “He came across some money that wasn’t his. He should have left it where it was, but he didn’t. And the owners came up with the way for him to return it to them all cleaned and legit looking.”
“Mob money,” Wilson filled in. “He’s returning it to the casino in the form of losing it back to them.”
“But it worked too well, and it’s now taken on a life of its own. He paid the initial back years ago. Now, he’s being forced to help them launder other money by losing it at the tables,” he said, making air quotes as he said the word losing.
“What’s the source of the other money?” Madison asked.
Bianchi shrugged. “Who knows? Drugs, racketeering, illegal betting, prostitution? Does it matter?”
“And does Bashar know about this?” Wilson asked.
“No, I never told him, and he never brought it up. My dad’s problem is separate from mine.”
“Walk us through how your dad came across money he shouldn’t have taken?” Cooper prompted.
“It was years ago. He was still coaching. One of his former students’ sons was on the team. You know about the families, right? They run everything around here. Vinny Aiello Senior was at the school watching Junior play. Vinny Senior isn’t involved in the family business, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t opportunistic, either.”
“Aiello, who is the foreman at MRG?” Wilson interrupted.
“Yeah, he’s Vinny Senior, knows my dad from when he went to that school and played ball,” Bianchi explained. “So, he’s in my dad’s office after the game, blah blah blahing about old times with his uncle, his mom’s brother with the last name Palumbo, yeah, those Palumbos. The Feds, I mean federal agents, had been following Uncle Palumbo and picked that moment to try to arrest him, but Uncle Palumbo had seen them coming and hid the brief case of money before they moved in. Later, my father found it, thought he could keep it and the Palumbos would be none the wiser.”
“But they weren’t none the wiser,” Cooper deduced.
“You and your father both have got to be two of the unluckiest people I’ve ever met,” Wilson said.
“Yeah, like seriously,” Bianchi agreed. “So, Vinny Aiello Senior plays errand boy for the family, retrieves the brief case from my dad with a threat, and just like that, my dad’s working for the Palumbos. And get this, Aiello gets a monthly kickback from the family that he shares with the three dumbasses he recruited to be his muscle when he went to the school to confront my dad. He could have kept all of it. My dad didn’t need four guys to intimidate him. He would have handed it over to Aiello had he been alone.”
“Darrow, Keeler, and Kent,” Wilson said.
“Yeah, how’d you know?” Bianchi asked.
“His three buddies from high school,” Wilson replied. So, that’s what the money exchange had been for.
“Does your dad make anything from his involvement?” Madison asked.
“No, but he gets to gamble all the time, which he likes. And he’s doing it with someone else’s money, which is a bonus. They let him win early in the game if his cards shake out to win, but he knows the money has to go to the house at the end of the night.”
“Does he want out?” Garcia asked.
“Nah, he has nothing else to do with his time.”
Wilson’s gaze locked with Cooper’s. Cooper looked as astonished by Bianchi’s lackadaisical attitude as he was. He waited a beat for Cooper to say something. “Coop?”
“Yeah, there’s a crime here, but nothing for us to follow up on.” He stood. “Brad, today’s your lucky day. We’ll make sure Bashar doesn’t follow through on releasing any info on you. If your dad ever wants out, contact me.” He pulled a card with his name and phone number only on it and handed it to Bianchi. “Good luck to you.” He presented his hand, which Bianchi shook.
“Good luck, Brad,” Madison said as she too stood.
“You’re an over performer at work,” Garcia said. “They should be paying you more. Mention that on your next review.”
“Yeah, sure,” Bianchi agreed.
“Don’t discount your right to be happy or push it off to later. Be careful but get back out there,” Wilson told him, not sure where the sentiment had come from. He wasn’t one who should be giving anyone relationship advice.
Then the four members of Shepherd Security filed out the door.