The Paris Vendetta Read Online Free PDF Page B

run a website on the side,” Sam said. “We’re not supposed to do stuff like that, but I did. World Financial Collapse—A Capitalist Conspiracy. That’s what I called it. It’s at Moneywash.net.”
    “I can see why you’re superiors might have a problem with your hobby.”
    “I can’t. I live in America. I have a right to speak my mind.”
    “But you don’t have a right to carry a federal badge at the same time.”
    “That’s what they said, too.” He could not hide the defeat in his voice.
    “What did you say on this site of yours?” Malone asked him.
    “I told the truth. About financiers, like Mayer Amschel Rothschild.”
    “Expressing those First Amendment rights of yours?”
    “What does it matter? That man wasn’t even American. Just a master with money. His five sons were even better. They learned how to convert debt into fortune. They were lenders to the crowns of Europe. You name it and they were there, one hand to give money out, the other to take even more back.”
    “Isn’t that the American way?”
    “They weren’t bankers. Banks operate with funds either deposited by customers or created by the government. They worked with personal fortunes, lending them out at obscene interest rates.”
    “Again, what’s wrong with that?”
    He shifted in his seat. “That’s the attitude that allowed them to get away with what they did. People say, ‘So what? It’s their right to make money.’ No, it’s not.” The fire in his belly surged. “The Rothschilds made a fortune financing war. Did you know that?”
    Malone did not reply.
    “Both sides, most times. And they didn’t give a damn about the money they loaned. In return, they wanted privileges that could be converted into profit. Things like mining concessions, monopolies, importation exceptions. Sometimes they were even given the right to certain taxes as a guarantee.”
    “That was hundreds of years ago. So the hell what?”
    “It’s happening again.”
    Malone slowed for a sharp curve. “How do you know that?”
    “Not everyone who strikes it rich is as benevolent as Bill Gates.”
    “You have names? Proof?”
    He went silent.
    Malone seemed to sense his dilemma. “No, you don’t. Just a bunch of conspiracy crap you posted on the Internet that got you fired.”
    “It’s not far-fetched,” he was quick to say. “Those men came to kill me.”
    “You sound almost glad they did.”
    “It proves I was right.”
    “That’s a big leap. Tell me what happened.”
    “I was cooped up in a hotel room, so I went out for a walk. Two guys started following me. I hauled ass and they kept coming. That’s when I found your place. Henrik told me to wait at the hotel until I heard from him, then make contact with you. But when I spotted those two I called Christiangade. Jesper said to find you pronto, so I headed for your shop.”
    “How’d you get inside?”
    “Pried open the back door. It’s real easy. You need an alarm.”
    “I figure if somebody wants to steal old books, they can have ’em.”
    “What about guys who want to kill you?”
    “Actually, they wanted to kill you. And by the way, that was foolish breaking in. I could have shot you.”
    “I knew you wouldn’t.”
    “Glad you knew that, ’cause I didn’t.”
    They rode in silence for a few miles, coming ever closer to Christiangade. Sam had made this journey quite a few times over the past year.
    “Thorvaldsen’s gone to a lot of trouble,” he finally said. “But the man he’s after acted first.”
    “Henrik’s no fool.”
    “Maybe not. But every man meets his match.”
    “How old are you?”
    He wondered about the sudden shift in topic. “Thirty-two.”
    “You’ve been with the service how long?”
    “Four years.”
    He caught Malone’s drift. Why had Henrik needed to connect with a young, inexperienced Secret Service agent who ran an off-the-wall website? “It’s a long story.”
    “I’ve got time,” Malone said.
    “Actually, you don’t.