Page 57 of Emperor of Corruption
Anna yawns. “Well, I’m not interested in getting my ass up from this booth, so if he wants some, he better make his way over here.”
The man pauses, gazing at Anna for several beats. Finally, he reaches into his jacket. I gasp and stiffen, lips parting in preparation to scream, but he doesn’t withdraw a gun—only a business card. He notices my reaction, though, brows furrowing as he glances at me.
He hands Anna the business card. “That’s Mr. Black’s number. Call him.”
Anna snorts. “He won’t cross a room to hit on me himself, yet he expects me to call him? Adorable. Thanks for the card, Mr. Mobster. I think I’ll wipe my ass with it.”
The man—Mr. Mobster?—turns around and leaves.
I frown at Anna. “Mr. Mobster? The fuck?”
She shrugs. “He’s carrying, and he’s sitting with a bunch of shady dudes. If he’s not in the mob, then I’m not a natural blonde.” She leansback in her seat, eye-fucking session already forgotten. “Now, what does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?”
I make it home late but nottoolate, stumbling into my apartment with an hour to spare before my scheduled phone call with Killian’s source. I’ll be taking it from the encrypted burner Tommy gave me, and I intend to squeeze my source for all his worth… without scaring him away.
First, I set up camp on my living room couch, pull out my encrypted laptop, and get back to the investigative work I paused for my night out with Anna. I navigate to the SEC’s database, and look up Killian’s company, Helixon Biopharma. A list of quarterly and revenue reports from the last several years come up; I pause before clicking download on them, hesitating.
The computer I’m using is completely anonymous. Downloading from a trackable database might threaten that anonymity.
I dial up Tommy on my burner, knowing he’s usually awake very late.
“Lyra,” he greets after two rings. “How’s it going, gorgeous?”
I roll my eyes. I don’t think he’lleverstop flirting with me. “It’s going. I’ve got a quick question for your IT brain.”
“Well, my brain—and other anatomical parts—are always at your disposal. What’s up?”
My lips curve up despite myself. “I’m wanting to download some SEC reports for the course of my investigation, using the computer you gave me. I’m just wondering if doing so would erase the anonymousfootprint, since I know the website tracks users and downloads?”
“Wouldn’t erase or threaten anything,” Tommy says cheerfully. “Any government site you fuck around with will track your IP address to Beijing, DC, or Norway. It changes by the hour.”
I exhale a breath of relief. “Tommy?”
“Beautiful?”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re the absolute best?”
“Well, usually I hear praise on having the best coc—”
I hang up before he can finish that thought, download the last four quarterly reports, and two yearly reports.
I make myself a cup of tea, get comfortable, and start digging through the yearlies.
The first thing to stand out to me is just how many LLC’s are owned by Helixon Biopharma. There aredozens. I release a sigh and settle in, looking into each LLC. They’re all addressed either in Delaware, Luxembourg, or the Cayman Islands—places known for loose tax laws and money laundering.
Next up are the quarterly reports, which show millions donated or loaned to nonprofit organizations. When I research the nonprofit organizations, I see that they’re all fronts—they’re linked to politicians, think tanks, or philanthropic clubs.
Killian is giving millions of dollars to places and people that don’t exist. They’re all shell corps. He’s in bed with people who he doesn’t want the world to know about. Most wouldn’t notice the details that pop out to me, but I jot all of them down, determined to get as much on Killian as possible.
Rhea’s reference to Killian’s off-the-books meetings flash through my mind. She mentioned Silas Cornell, which means I should eventually dig into him, but it begs the question…who else is Killian meetingwith?I’d bet my right arm that he’s spending time with the same people he’s funneling money to.
I’m halfway through the reports with ten pages worth of notes when my encrypted phone rings. I got so caught up in my research, I lost track of the time. Anxiety beats at my chest as I open up a new, blank document and hold up the phone, accepting the call.
I don’t say anything, waiting for my source—John—to speak first.
His voice finally comes over the line, dark and toneless. “If this conversation is being recorded, I’ll have you killed.”
Fear crawls over my skin, but I force my tone to come out neutral. “I have just as much skin in this game as you do. Recordings would be as devastating to me as they would be to you.”
