BIA Ch. 145

“That’s right. The ledgers.”

Isaiah took his eye off the scope and looked at Samuel. Samuel picked up one of the notebooks and muttered as he flipped through it.

“No, this is……, it’s a ledger, alright.”

“Why?”

When asked if there was a problem, Samuel put down the notebook in his hand and picked up another one lying next to it. He quickly scanned the contents, flipping through the pages, then put that one down and immediately picked up the one next to it. After skimming through all six notebooks from the bag in this manner, Samuel finally put down the last one he was holding and spoke.

“These are fakes.”

“What?”

Isaiah and Mickey exclaimed simultaneously.

“But this is Bran’s handwriting.”

“Isn’t it true that Bran used to handle the ledger organization? I understand he did it for quite a while.”

Samuel raised both hands as if to calm them down and nodded in response to their questions.

“Yes, Bran wrote them. And the content, at least the parts I know, matches for now. But back then, and even now, around here, all ledgers are sent up for approval stamps at the end of the month. But look.”

Samuel picked up one of the notebooks and quickly flipped through the pages in front of Isaiah and Mickey.

“There are no stamps here. Nowhere.”

“Then what are these?”

“Handwritten copies, probably. Judging by how faded the paper is, these are also several years old.”

Mickey picked up one of the notebooks from the desk and carefully examined a few pages inside.

“They certainly don’t seem to have been hastily written recently. Also, the pens used vary from page to page.”

“Right. My guess is that Bran copied them one page at a time while he was organizing the ledgers back then.”

“There are no stamps here either, I see.”

Mickey sighed and put the notebook down.

“If that’s true, these won’t be usable as evidence. Even if they were admitted in court, if the other side challenges the lack of stamps, it could actually backfire on us. For evidence tampering.”

“That’s not the problem. We can’t hand these over in the first place.”

“Why not?”

At Mickey’s question, Samuel tapped the desk with the notebook in his hand, looking frustrated.

“Think about it. Handing Cedric over to the court for tax evasion? The statute of limitations for the IRS to conduct an audit and impose taxes when more than 25% of income is intentionally omitted is 6 years. The state government has no statute of limitations at all. And the ledger contents are just the tip of the iceberg. Once a full audit begins, all the offshore tax evasion details will be exposed, so Cedric can’t avoid a massive penalty tax bomb either way. So how would he procure the funds for those enormous penalty taxes?”

Slowly, a shadow of despair began to creep over Mickey’s face as well. Samuel clicked his tongue as if saying, ‘Now you get it?’

“Handing over Lombard entirely would be the least of it. Half of the Kalisz organization’s businesses would have to be sold off cheap in a fire sale. It’ll be reduced to a small-time operation in an instant.”

And an organization that loses its economic foundation collapses quickly. No matter how talented Bran was at making money, it would take at least ten years to recover the current momentum. From the FBI’s perspective, it was like doing all the work just to hand the benefits to someone else.

“But when Chester died, didn’t all authority in Kalisz pass to Bran? Can Cedric just dispose of it as he pleases to pay his own penalty taxes?”

“No. What Bran inherited through the Kalisz automatic succession rule was only the Boss position. All of Cedric’s assets were transferred to Chester according to Cedric’s will. And Chester just died moments ago.”

“And since Chester has no children or spouse, unless he prepared a separate will, his entire statutory share will go back to his parents……”

As Mickey murmured, Samuel confirmed, “Exactly,” and threw the notebook onto the desk. Isaiah’s head began to throb.

“The only thing among these that’s somewhat usable is this one.”

Samuel picked up the cleanest-looking notebook from the scattered mess and said.

“The list of people Cedric bribed. This kind originally doesn’t have stamps.”

“Well, yeah. It’d be weirder if it did have stamps.”

“Right. If we start an investigation based on this list, something will probably turn up. But the investigation will take time.”

And during that time, Cedric could do anything. Moreover, if he were fined for bribery, he would undoubtedly raise the funds by selling off the Kalisz organization’s businesses as well.

In the end, nothing here was helpful to Bran. In other words, in this situation, these notebooks were practically useless.

“Why on earth did Bran…… why did he tell me to give these to you?”

Isaiah pressed his palm against his forehead, which felt like it was burning up, and spoke. It was an illusion, of course. He didn’t have a fever. His head just hurt that much.

“That’s what I want to ask.”

Samuel thumped his chest in frustration.

“That’s why I asked you earlier. If these were really the items Bran told me to give him.”

“They are.”

His throat felt tight, as if something hot was caught in it, making it hard to speak. Isaiah managed to say in a half-strained voice.

“I told you several times. He said to give the ledgers to you.”

“Wasn’t this prearranged?”

Mickey asked Samuel with a confused expression.

“Not at all. I was only told to take this guy where he said he wanted to go.”

Isaiah picked up one of the notebooks lying on the desk.

“The originals… Bran must have them.”

“Probably.”

“And the reason Bran prepared these long ago was.”

“Perhaps to submit them to the higher-ups?”

Mickey quickly interjected. Samuel immediately shook his head.

“No, he would have submitted them already if that were the case.”

Isaiah silently scanned the contents of the notebook. As always, the neat and beautiful handwriting, almost like print, filled the pages densely. Judging by the script alone, love sonnets would seem more fitting. Or perhaps lyric poetry that touches everyone’s heart. Considering the poetry books filling his study, maybe Bran actually wanted to write such things.

“Whatever it was, it’s likely he wrote it to show the FBI. If not for reporting, then for applying pressure. Maybe he wrote it to assert, ‘I have the original ledgers and can expose them anytime. Don’t provoke me further if you don’t want to ruin the project.’”

But what Bran ultimately wrote down in this beautiful script was evidence of embezzlement within a mafia organization. Evidence that could potentially destroy not only Kalisz but the RAC Project itself. Furthermore, the collapse of the project also meant the collapse of Bran’s entire life since he was twenty.

“Bran figured out my identity early on. He must have known the higher-ups were watching him. Separately, it seems he hasn’t trusted the Captain, Edgar, for a long time either.”

“Bringing it out now means……”

“He intends to pressure us. Though ‘threaten’ might be more appropriate in this situation.”

And Bran had brought out these handwritten copies, prepared as a self-preservation measure, at a completely unexpected time.

— Take responsibility and get me safely to my destination.

— Use any means necessary to escort him safely. Ensure not even a fingertip is harmed.

The destination Bran spoke of wasn’t the place they meant, Bell Financial. It was the place Bran himself desired, Bran’s final destination. It was a place where he, Isaiah Cole, could be safe. He was telling the FBI to take responsibility and protect him so he could survive until the very end without a scratch.

“This guy was right.”

Samuel scratched his head and clicked his tongue.

“He seemed to have noticed that there was some kind of deal with our side the moment he showed up at the church yesterday.”

“That’s because Samuel acted so obviously……”

At Mickey’s words, Samuel flared up, shouting, “No, you punk!”

“It’s because of Edgar. Edgar threw a huge fit, no, went absolutely ballistic over the issue of handing over Lombard entirely.”

“Hmm, that’s true.”

Mickey sighed, saying he thought the project was going to fall apart right then and there.

“Yeah. But right at that timing, a guy with the exact same ideology as Edgar happened to be sent to the FBI side. A guy insisting that Bran must become the Boss, but handing Lombard over to Martino is absolutely unacceptable.”

“Ah…” Mickey glanced sideways at Isaiah.

“And this guy happens to be the world’s best sniper. Bran must have thought that if he teamed up effectively with Edgar, the two of them could cook up anything. That’s why he warned me in the morning beforehand.”

“So the milk was already spilled by then……”

“Right.”

Mickey crossed his arms and muttered thoughtfully. Samuel crossed his arms too. Almost simultaneously, they both looked at Isaiah. Instead of crossing his arms, Isaiah threw down the notebook he was holding and said coldly.

“You can’t cry over spilled milk anyway.”

Isaiah went back to the window. He pushed Kestrel, who had taken his spot and was observing the church, aside and put his eye to the scope’s eyepiece pad.

The scene was still being cleaned up. More police cars and ambulances had arrived in the meantime. And several luxury sedans he hadn’t seen before were also present. The owners of the sedans were likely Bran’s lawyers. Because the man who had been smoking with both hands cuffed earlier was now surrounded by unfamiliar suits, smoking with only one hand cuffed.

Isaiah focused on the face of the man smoking and increased the magnification. It was indeed Bran. Seeing him smoking and smiling even in this situation didn’t bring relief, but rather made anger surge to the top of his head. At the same time, his eyes grew hot. The anger was because of Bran, and the hotness in his eyes was because of the night air. Because the temperature had dropped further, because the wind was blowing, because his eyes were stinging, that’s why.