Page 20 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

“HOLD ON,” said the mayor of Los Angeles. “I know the voice on that tape was intentionally distorted, but did he seriously just ask for a ransom of a billion dollars? With a b ?”

“That’s right, Madam Mayor,” Mike Hardy said. “One billion is what I heard. I’m not sure I have that much in my checking account right now, but I can take a look.”

“Agent Gordon?” the mayor asked as if seeking a second opinion on a medical diagnosis: Are we sure it’s cancer? Couldn’t it just be a cold?

“Detective Hardy is correct. That’s what I heard too.”

“What I’m saying is,” the mayor continued, “are these people serious?”

The idea of a billion dollars was mind-boggling to most people, but Nicky was sure the mayor grasped exactly how much that was, considering that the budget of the City of Los Angeles was close to thirteen billion.

“We have to assume they are,” Nicky said.

“Does it need to be in cash? Is it even possible to place that much cash in a bag?” the mayor said. “Or would it be several bags? Help me visualize this in terms of physical money.”

“A million dollars in hundred-dollar bills—the largest denomination currently circulated by the US government—weighs approximately forty-two pounds,” Nicky said. “Roughly as much as a four-year-old child.”

“What’s the total weight for a billion dollars?”

“One billion,” Nicky said, “equals one thousand million.”

The mayor took a moment to contemplate the math. “These kidnappers are asking for the equivalent of the weight of a thousand toddlers in cash?”

“Yes,” Nicky replied.

The room fell silent as everyone—including Nicky—tried to imagine gathering that much money in one place. The transportation logistics alone were enough to blow their collective mind.

“How do you know they’ll want cash?” Jeff finally asked.

“He did say dollars,” Mike said.

“That’s just a monetary unit,” Jeff replied, “not a specific request.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Captain Penney’s right,” Nicky said. “Could be in cash. Could be in jewels or gold. Or it could be in crypto or maybe a wire deposit to an offshore account. Whatever it is, they’re going to want something utterly untraceable.”

“Like Starbucks gift cards,” Mike said, trying to lighten the mood, which a small part of Nicky appreciated. But she couldn’t let that show. In any group, there was always one person who could get away with jokes like that. She had never been that person. Mike, however, was.

The mayor, looking like she was trying to put a brave face on a brutal case of food poisoning, said, “I’m going to meet with Randolph Schraeder immediately. He must be going out of his mind with worry.”

Nicky knew the reason the mayor wanted to insert herself into this investigation: Randolph Schraeder was a mercurial billionaire and a significant political donor. He contributed to candidates on both the Left and the Right, boasting to reporters that he liked to “stir the shit pot now and again.”

Most recently, Schraeder had put a considerable amount of money behind the current mayor of Los Angeles.

She owed her job to him and was gearing up for a bitter reelection fight.

She could not afford to alienate him right now.

Rather than telling him the ugly truth, Madam Mayor would focus on keeping Randolph Schraeder happy with hollow promises, which was a mistake—they’d miss a key opportunity.

“Madam Mayor, may I make a suggestion?” Nicky said, knowing they might have only one shot at a face-to-face meeting with the reclusive billionaire.

“Call Mr. Schraeder right away and let him know that we have the full resources of the FBI and the LAPD handling this and that we will bring his family home safe. But let me and Chief Hardy visit him so we can assess the situation in person.”

“You think the kidnappers have inside help,” Jeff said.

“It’s a very strong possibility.”

“Did they have inside help with those cases in Santa Barbara and San Diego?” he asked. “Is this part of their pattern?”

“No,” Nicky admitted, “but this is a unique situation. As I said earlier, I believe those were practice runs. This is the main event. They’d want every possible advantage.”

The mayor furrowed her brow. “I doubt he’ll see you. Randolph is… ornery. He has his own way of doing things. I’m actually not even positive he’d meet with me right now.”

“I can be very persuasive,” Nicky said.

“I can vouch for that,” Mike added with a smirk that Nicky caught but prayed no one else did. Come on, Hardy. Not now.

The mayor was still uncertain about letting them go, possibly due to her concerns about the case, but more likely due to her concerns about her reelection.

Nicky knew the mayor was doing the political math now, and Being There in Person was always far more politically rewarding than Phoning In My Condolences.

“What if I go with you?” the mayor suggested.

Nicky steeled herself. She had to thread a fine needle of flattery and practicality.

“If you’re there, all of Mr. Schraeder’s attention will be on you,” she said. “But Hardy and I are just a couple of nobody cops. It will keep his mind focused on his family.”

As the mayor thought it over, the conference room’s door opened a few inches, and a junior agent dared to insert his head into the gap. When he saw a dozen high-powered faces staring back at him, the junior agent flinched.

“What is it, Agent Duffield?” Nicky asked.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I think we found the SUV.”