Chapter 19

WHITE-COLLAR CRIME

With evidence now of corporate fraud, insider trading, and yes, even murder, I called the FBI office in Lafayette and made an appointment for the next day.

Placide and I stopped at our office before my meeting to get any further reports from Earlene. She informed me that the two guys in the Blazer were indeed rogue Secret Service agents. I knew someone had to have put them up to it. Secretary Huff’s name came immediately to mind.

I loaded up all the paperwork our attorneys had provided to add to the evidence I already had. When Placide and I walked into the FBI building on Versailles, we were ushered into an interview room and introduced to a young agent named Bascomb.

“You say you have evidence of a federal crime, Major Doucet?”

“Yes sir. I’m afraid I’ve jumped in over my head. The crimes I’ve discovered go all the way to the top. And my life is currently in danger.”

“By ‘to the top,’ how high are we talking here?”

“I’m talking about all the way to the White House, sir. I have paperwork, photos, as well as crimes I’ve witnessed first-hand.”

“Well, Major, I’m all ears.” He hit a buzzer on his phone. “I’m calling in my stenographer. I’ll want to get this in writing… Ah, here she is. Come in, Margaret. This is Major Doucet.”

Margaret took a seat at a small table with a stenotype machine. And I had plenty for her to type. I started with the inundation and all the people killed in that tragedy.

“Yes, I’m aware of that disaster, of course,” Agent Bascomb said.

“My father owned the drilling company.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course, Doucet Drilling. I hadn’t made the connection. I believe it was reported that Harvey Doucet committed suicide after that tragedy.”

“It wasn’t suicide, sir. That’s what the police reported, then promptly closed the case. But I know better.”

“Oh?”

“That’s why I took an extended leave from the Air Force. I knew, as a Catholic, Father would never commit suicide. I wanted to prove it was murder. But in the process, I’ve learned so much more than I even hoped or wanted to learn.”

“By all means, continue, Major.”

I moved on to the discrepancy I’d found in the maps of the drill site and where the faulty map came from; the Secret Service agents who ran me off the road and ran Gremillion to his death in the swamp, and finally ended up dead themselves yesterday.

“Yes. We’ve got the reports of the bridge incident. And yesterday’s incident. And you were the shooter?”

“Yes sir, Placide and I.” I described that whole incident, to which Agent Bascomb interjected, “Good God, Major. Go on.”

I described the “alleged” suicide of Dawkins after I had snooped at Ideal Tractor in Memphis, and of Armstrong’s ties to Treasury Secretary Huff. I told him about Father’s car being blown up, and that I was supposed to be in it at the time. I handed him the police report from Tennessee; copies of files the attorneys had obtained from their FOIA request; copies of accounting documents Marlisa had provided, thanks to Christie’s husband; copies Candace Soileau had made of Joseph Haggerty’s file; the clandestine photos I had snapped of Armstrong, Haggerty, and Matherne; and the other files and notes Earlene and I had dug up. I told him about the implications of Deslatte’s shale processing plant and toxic waste dump, the complicity of Governor Mansur and Secretary Huff. And, of course, I told him about Armstrong’s hedge fund with Secretary Huff on its board, the theft of profits and pensions, and the stock selloffs.

Agent Bascomb looked dumbfounded throughout much of my narrative. When I finally finished, about an hour later, he said, “Well, Major, that’s some story! I do want to caution you from any continued investigation. But I’d also like to thank you for being a responsible citizen. Rest assured, we’ll take over from here and fully investigate these allegations. If what you provided us is proved, you may be responsible for pulling down a large conspiracy network. But for now, I think you can get back to your important job in the Air Force.”

“How long might it take before I hear something?”

“Well, Major, with such high-level players implicated, I believe this will be fairly high priority. We should have some answers in a couple of months. Trials and appeals could go on for years, though. Sign these notes, please, and we’ll be in touch.”

Placide and I didn’t waste any time getting back to New Iberia. I called Marlisa right away. “Marlisa, can you meet me for a drink? I have some amazing news,” I said.

“Oh, great! I can’t wait to hear some good news for a change. Provost’s?”

“Yes.”

“I can be there in an hour.”

When she arrived, I ordered us each a glass of chardonnay. “I’ve come to the end of the investigation,” I told her. “The FBI is taking over from here, so we’ll just have to wait for their investigation now.”

“That’s fantastic, H! I guess this means you’ll be going back to North Carolina.” She looked a little woebegone. “I have to admit, H, I hate to see you go.”

“I’ll miss you, too. You’ve been my rock through all this. Maybe you can come visit me once in a while?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“And I’ll come visit you whenever I get leave. I’ve used up most of what I had saved up, but I’ll earn some more. Would you like me to visit you?”

“I’d like nothing more.”

When I walked her to the car, she gave me more than a peck on the cheek this time. I saw Placide wink at me from the car when we finally ended our embrace.

Then I called Earlene and filled her in.

“I’m glad you had the wherewithal to never give up, H. I hope we’ll see you soon.”

“I have to admit, I never thought I’d miss Louisiana after I escaped. Now I can’t wait to come back. I’m glad Father set up contingency plans with LeBlanc, so I can go back knowing the company’s in good hands, with you and Marc at the helm.”

“Yes, don’t worry, H. Marc knows the ropes, so he slid right into the position with minimal transition. He’s already got another new drilling contract, thanks to Léon Savois.”

“Wonderful. Let him know how pleased I am to have him there. And take care of yourself, Earlene. You’re indispensable, you know.”

“Thanks, I will, and I’ll keep up with Ethel and Louis, too. You can rest easy and go finish your commitment to Uncle Sam.”

Next, I called my XO and asked him to get me a military hop from England Air Force base in Alexandria, Louisiana, back to Seymour Johnson, ASAP. The long nightmare was finally over, for me anyway.