Synopsis
Ex-hotshot trader Dylan Cash returns to Wall Street, to investigate a possible cyber-crime with financial ties to a huge defense contractor. But what he thought was a simple case of insider trading is soon revealed to be much more dangerous.
When Detective Charles Sleetch investigates the murder of a wealthy Wall Street banker and his girlfriend, it seems like your average, routine robbery homicide. Then a second woman dies and a third goes missing.
Two completely unrelated crimes, or is it all connected? Follow the money – find the murderer.
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Excerpt
“It could not have been easy. I had a daughter of my own…” Sleetch felt a surge of emotion. “Have you heard from your daughter?”
“Kat is fine. She disappears for weeks at a time. Who knows where she goes?”
“I understand, Anna. But how much do you know about your daughter’s place of work: The Body Shop?”
“My daughter works in banking, at an office in Midtown.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“My daughter was studying for her Series 7 license. She told me that the exam was next month.”
“I understand that. But that is not what we’ve learned over the last twenty-four hours. Mrs. Anjelska—”
“Please, call me Anna.”
“Anna, your daughter worked at a place called ‘The Body Shop.’ Are you aware of the type of business that is?”
“I don’t know.”
Sleetch shook his head vigorously back and forth, as he slid a copy of a print ad from the strip club across the table toward her. “It’s a place where women entertain men by dancing for them.”
Anna Anjelska was speechless, and this was what he had been dreading.
“Anna, The Body Shop is a strip club. Exotic dancers.”
“My daughter didn’t work in a strip club. She worked at a bank.”
“A bank?”
“Thatcher Reed.”
Anna got up and retrieved her purse, then returned and sat back down. “Here,” she said as she handed him a card. “Thatcher Reed. My daughter works here.”
Sleetch looked at the card incredulously, wondering if it was real. He recognized the name as the place of employment of Dave Tanjano. For a moment it seemed to be a cheap imitation, the type that could be made from a printing kiosk in a mall somewhere. But on second glance he noticed the watermark. Then, he wasn’t so sure. “Perhaps I was mistaken,” he said.
“My daughter told me she was still in training. And this was why her…why her schedule was flexible. At night she often told me she was out seeing clients.”
“I understand that. But that’s not why I am here. Your daughter is dead.”
The room suddenly turned hotter and hotter. Sleetch jabbed at the tie around his neck and loosened it. He looked into Anna’s eyes and saw the same drunken pain and confusion and haze that he felt each morning. “Anna, is there anyone you know that would want to hurt your daughter?”
“No,” Anna said, as she shook her head violently. “Everybody loved my daughter.”
About the Author
Brooklyn-based author and experienced Wall Street investment banker Carey Keith Green draws on his professional experience in the world of finance, to explore the tenuous threads that connect the world’s richest with the shady behind-the-scenes workings of global geopolitics in his work. Green earned his bachelors from Columbia College and he holds an MBA from Fordham. The Art of Privilege is the second in a series and Green’s third book.
