Read Online Shamrock Alley by Ronald Damien Malfi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ronald Damien Malfi
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Thrillers, Crime, Horror, New York (N.Y.), Government investigators, organized crime, Horror Fiction, Undercover operations
Ads: Link
bills laid out across his desk now, most of them individually sealed in plastic bags. The most recent ones were still attached to the description sheets sent over from the various banks that had acquired them throughout the city.
With a sigh, Kersh leaned back in his chair.
Genuine U.S. bills are printed by the Bureau of Printing and Engraving in Washington, D.C. The paper is comprised of 75 percent cotton, 25 percent linen, and contains tiny red and blue fibers throughout. The front of the bill is printed intaglio-style in black ink with green ink used typographically to imprint the note’s specific serial numbers and Treasury seal. The back of the bill is printed in green intaglio. Generally, counterfeiters produce their ware by taking photographs of authentic bills, touching up the negatives, and burning the negatives onto plates. Two plates are used for the front—one plate for black ink, one plate for green—and a third is used for the back of the bill. A meticulous counterfeiter may even create two more plates to mimic the strands of blue and red fibers that are embedded in the paper of genuine bills. Due to most counterfeiters’ inability to duplicate very minuscule details, quite often the sawtooth points of the Federal Reserve and Treasury seals are slightly uneven and uncharacteristically blunt. However, Deveneau’s bills were nearly perfect. The safety features included in the “new money,” the redesigned notes, are nearly impossible to duplicate even with the assistance of a competent computer. Yet Deveneau’s notes were forgeries of the
old
bills, which made detection that much more difficult. The printer had even used special acid-etched plates to imitate the intaglio printing.
The printer…
Charlie Lowenstein.
It was no secret Charlie Lowenstein printed Francis Deveneau’s counterfeit money. The Secret Service maintained an extensive catalogue of every phony bill ever to be scrutinized by federal eyes, and when Deveneau’s bills had begun popping up like ruptured sores throughout the city several months back, Kersh had recognized them immediately. Lowenstein had been arrested two years earlier during a dispute with a couple of street thugs in Harlem. In Lowenstein’s car, the police uncovered roughly $150,000 in counterfeit hundreds. The bills were excellent reproductions, yet they enjoyed no circulation due to Lowenstein’s total lack of distribution. A thin, spindly man with ink-blotch eyes, a beaky nose, and a nearly lipless mouth, Charlie Lowenstein was the proprietor of a small printing press in Queens. His talents unbound, he soon found easy money in the printing of counterfeit football and baseball tickets for neighborhood wiseguys. Soon after, he began exercising his talents with the reproduction of U.S. currency. Upon Lowenstein’s arrest, the Secret Service assaulted his printing establishment, only to find no trace of evidence whatsoever—much to the Service’s indignation. Yet despite the lack of evidence, the Service knew Lowenstein had printed the money, and they had many questions:
Was there any more? Where were the plates? Did he have any partners, any regular customers? How much had he sold?
But just as his stodgy and unaccommodating demeanor dictated, Charlie Lowenstein refused to cooperate with the Secret Service and was subsequently sentenced to five years in prison.
Now, two years later and with Charlie Lowenstein still behind bars, Lowenstein’s money had resurfaced. There was no mistake about it—all the incoming bills possessed one of the ten alternate serial numbers found on the counterfeit money taken from Lowenstein’s vehicle.
Once the bills began resurfacing, the first thing Kersh did was pay Charlie Lowenstein a visit in his cell up in Connecticut. And just as he’d surmised, Lowenstein refused to cooperate—he merely watched Kersh from across the interview room with dead eyes. Before leaving, Kersh checked the prison’s guest log to see who might have
With a sigh, Kersh leaned back in his chair.
Genuine U.S. bills are printed by the Bureau of Printing and Engraving in Washington, D.C. The paper is comprised of 75 percent cotton, 25 percent linen, and contains tiny red and blue fibers throughout. The front of the bill is printed intaglio-style in black ink with green ink used typographically to imprint the note’s specific serial numbers and Treasury seal. The back of the bill is printed in green intaglio. Generally, counterfeiters produce their ware by taking photographs of authentic bills, touching up the negatives, and burning the negatives onto plates. Two plates are used for the front—one plate for black ink, one plate for green—and a third is used for the back of the bill. A meticulous counterfeiter may even create two more plates to mimic the strands of blue and red fibers that are embedded in the paper of genuine bills. Due to most counterfeiters’ inability to duplicate very minuscule details, quite often the sawtooth points of the Federal Reserve and Treasury seals are slightly uneven and uncharacteristically blunt. However, Deveneau’s bills were nearly perfect. The safety features included in the “new money,” the redesigned notes, are nearly impossible to duplicate even with the assistance of a competent computer. Yet Deveneau’s notes were forgeries of the
old
bills, which made detection that much more difficult. The printer had even used special acid-etched plates to imitate the intaglio printing.
The printer…
Charlie Lowenstein.
It was no secret Charlie Lowenstein printed Francis Deveneau’s counterfeit money. The Secret Service maintained an extensive catalogue of every phony bill ever to be scrutinized by federal eyes, and when Deveneau’s bills had begun popping up like ruptured sores throughout the city several months back, Kersh had recognized them immediately. Lowenstein had been arrested two years earlier during a dispute with a couple of street thugs in Harlem. In Lowenstein’s car, the police uncovered roughly $150,000 in counterfeit hundreds. The bills were excellent reproductions, yet they enjoyed no circulation due to Lowenstein’s total lack of distribution. A thin, spindly man with ink-blotch eyes, a beaky nose, and a nearly lipless mouth, Charlie Lowenstein was the proprietor of a small printing press in Queens. His talents unbound, he soon found easy money in the printing of counterfeit football and baseball tickets for neighborhood wiseguys. Soon after, he began exercising his talents with the reproduction of U.S. currency. Upon Lowenstein’s arrest, the Secret Service assaulted his printing establishment, only to find no trace of evidence whatsoever—much to the Service’s indignation. Yet despite the lack of evidence, the Service knew Lowenstein had printed the money, and they had many questions:
Was there any more? Where were the plates? Did he have any partners, any regular customers? How much had he sold?
But just as his stodgy and unaccommodating demeanor dictated, Charlie Lowenstein refused to cooperate with the Secret Service and was subsequently sentenced to five years in prison.
Now, two years later and with Charlie Lowenstein still behind bars, Lowenstein’s money had resurfaced. There was no mistake about it—all the incoming bills possessed one of the ten alternate serial numbers found on the counterfeit money taken from Lowenstein’s vehicle.
Once the bills began resurfacing, the first thing Kersh did was pay Charlie Lowenstein a visit in his cell up in Connecticut. And just as he’d surmised, Lowenstein refused to cooperate—he merely watched Kersh from across the interview room with dead eyes. Before leaving, Kersh checked the prison’s guest log to see who might have
Similar Books
