Chapter Forty-Seven
Angelique called Lazarus on the cell he’d given her. “The Rockport police just left. Corpus thinks he left town on his own and is going to check the airport. Rebecca pointed them at Miami like a pro.”
Lazarus laughed. “That girl has a gift for this. She might just be very useful in the future, you know.”
Angelique told Rebecca what Lazarus said and he heard her in the background shout, “Fuckin’ A!”
Lazarus went on, “Alright, but don’t get too carried away. You’re going to have to play the part of the abandoned wife in very short order.”
“I’ve already chewed Rebecca’s butt for being too damn happy,” said Angelique, trying to sound assertive. “She’s the one doing the cartwheels around here. I actually had tears in my eyes when I was talking to the officer.” Lazarus could hear the pride in her voice.
“That’s my girl,” he said. “You might have a knack for this, too.”
“The tears were real, Lazarus,” she said proudly. “I was thinking about you and how much you mean to me, and they just came.”
“That’s a good technique,” said Lazarus. “I’ve used the same scenario myself to draw on an emotion I wasn’t really feeling. You did good, Mon Cheri, very good.”
“Does that mean I get to come over?” asked Angelique.
“No, it does not,” replied Lazarus with emphasis. “But it does earn you a good time to be redeemed at a later date.”
“Oh, now THAT is something I will be looking forward to,” she replied in a sultry voice. “I will hold you to it, mister.”
“I’m counting on it,” said Lazarus, with a growl in his voice that elicited a sexual reaction, much to Angelique’s surprise.
“I don’t know how you do that, Lazarus, but don’t ever stop.”
He grinned to himself. “I haven’t even got started, baby,” he said with the same edge. “That’s just a taste of things to come.”
She liked the way he called her baby, adding to the flush in her body.
“I’ll call you when I get an update from Argentina. LJ should be calling in about four hours if everything goes according to plan, and it will,” Lazarus added confidently.
“I’ll talk to you then,” said Angelique, adding,” I love you, Mr. Solaris.”
“I’m counting on that,” Lazarus replied. “You seem to have somehow stolen my heart.”
*****
Lazarus decided to take Langston out to Port Aransas to walk the beach while waiting for the call. He was starting to miss home, something rare for him. When he thought of it now, he thought of Angelique with him. It was something he wanted to happen, sooner than later. Lazarus knew it would be later, but he had the patience of Job when it came to waiting. Thirty-five minutes later they were parked on a Mustang Island beach. Lazarus started combing for seashells while Langston wandered along the waterline. He found a few that he liked and tucked them away in his pocket. Lazarus wasn’t exactly sure what he would do with them, but he wanted to take something back with him.
He stopped at Castaways, ordering a bacon cheeseburger and a Heineken. He saved a quarter of the burger for Langston, patiently waiting in the Land Rover. The shepherd spent the time randomly sticking his head out the window – alternating between fascinating and terrifying people as they walked by.
Lazarus was on his way back to Rockport at about 4:00 when he got the call from LJ.
*****
Garza ended up sleeping on the couch after drinking over half the bottle of Patron. It took him a couple of seconds to realize someone was knocking on the front door. He roused himself, running a hand through his hair to straighten it out and grabbed the reading glasses he picked up in Panama City.
Garza opened the door to find a UPS driver standing there with a package.
His eyes lit up at the sight, immediately sober from the adrenaline rush.
“I have a package for Eduardo Hernandez,” said the driver; who looked vaguely familiar to Garza, but he was focused on the package. It was LJ, with a beard and glasses standing in front of him. Garza never made the connection.
“That would be me,” he said to the driver.
“May I see some identification, please?”
“Why do you need that?” asked Garza rather shortly.
“This package has restrictions and I need to verify the recipient. It’s standard procedure for a delivery of this sort.”
“Fine,” snapped Garza; “just a minute.” He went to get his wallet out of the jacket he had draped over a chair. He returned with his passport. “Will this suffice?” he asked sarcastically.
LJ responded with subtle, but unmistakable sarcasm of his own. “My apologies for the inconvenience, Senor Hernandez; I am doing my job.”
Garza was ready to snap at the driver for his tone, but he let it go. The desire for the package won out. “I apologize. I understand you are only doing what you are supposed to do.” He signed for the package and then gave LJ an American hundred-dollar bill. “That should make up for my rudeness,” he added.
“That isn’t necessary, Senor. It’s against company policy,” said LJ looking Garza in the eye.
“Take it, please. No one is going to know,” Garza insisted.
LJ accepted the tip with a half-smile and slipped the bill in his pocket. “Thank you, Senor Hernandez. Have a good day now.”
“I will be having a great day, young man, now that this package has arrived,” mumbled Garza as he slammed the door in LJ’s face.
Garza tore into the box with a vengeance. Inside he found a GD8000 military grade laptop. He’d never seen one like it before. It was thick and heavy, heavier than any laptop he’d ever used. He went to the bedroom to retrieve the encrypted key. As Garza was returning to the living room, he heard another knock at the door. He slipped the key in a pant pocket, wondering what the UPS driver had forgotten. Garza opened the door and his world turned upside down in a single heartbeat.
“Hello, hermano,” said Ramon as Enrique opened the door. “It’s good to see you made it safe and sound.”
Garza was in shock. How could this be happening? Then it hit him like a sledge hammer. The Chameleon must have sold him out. With a mixture of fear and rage he backed away from the door as Ramon walked in, followed by three of his men. Garza turned and looked at the back door, only to see another of Ramon’s men coming in, a shotgun in his hands. He’d let himself in with a key, confirming the Chameleon had indeed fucked him over.
Ramon pointed to the chair by the laptop. “Have a seat, Enrique. We have some catching up to do.” The look on Ramon’s face was anything but comforting. Garza was beginning to realize he was as good as dead. His mind raced, searching for any possible way out.
“I’m glad you’re here, Ramon,” Garza said with a forced smile. “I was able to locate all your money. I was just getting ready to call when you showed up.”
“Of course, you were, Enrique. I would have expected nothing less.” Ramon laughed sarcastically. “We both know that’s bullshit. YOU stole my money and thought you could get away with it. Fortunately for me, although not so much for you, the Chameleon informed me of your treachery.”
“That fucking Chameleon,” Enrique whined. “He has no honor and his word is worthless. You should know that, Ramon.”
“Ah, but such is not the case,” said Ramon as he seated himself. “He kept his word to you completely, delivering you to Argentina with a new identity and access to all the money.”
Torano continued, “However, the Chameleon gave me his word he would return my money along with the one who stole it. His only condition was to stay out of his way. I did as requested and here I am, with my money and the one who took it. The Chameleon kept his word to both of us, it seems.”
Ramon leaned back, adding almost sadly, “I honestly didn’t know you were the thief, hermano. The Chameleon wouldn’t tell me who it was, only giving me this address.”
Enrique couldn’t think of anything worth say
ing. There was no point in arguing with Ramon. His fate was sealed.
“Now, if you wouldn’t mind, the encrypted key please?” asked Ramon politely. “Now, before you say you don’t have it, Bernardo watched you retrieve it from the bedroom. It’s in your right front pocket.”
Before Garza could react, two of Ramon’s men lifted him up while Bernardo fished the key out. They unceremoniously slammed Enrique back down in the char. Bernardo handed the thumb drive to Ramon.
“Now, let’s have a look at where my money is,” said Ramon. He opened the laptop and powered it up. The GD8000 took less than 10 seconds to boot. Ramon’s expression was one of confusion when the screen lit up. It wasn’t what he was expecting: a message from the Chameleon.
“Hello, Ramon. I’m confident everything went as I had planned. That means you are now with your brother in Argentina. If you would, please read the following message out loud. It is intended for Enrique, information I want you to know.”
“What is it?” asked Enrique, seeing the puzzled look on Ramon’s face.
“It’s a message from the Chameleon. He wants me to read it aloud. It’s to you,” said Ramon, a confused on his face.
Ramon read:
“Hello, Enrique. First, I do apologize for the deception. I assure you it was necessary. I doubt your brother knows as much about you as I do. I have asked Ramon to read this message to you. Then he will understand why I sold you out.”
“As is always the case, I ran an extensive background check on you before I accepted the contract. I must admit, in your case, I wasn’t as thorough as I should have been. I missed something critical. Frankly, had I learned this about you then I would have killed you outright.”
“The information came to light after you’d engaged my services. It was by chance that my primary investigator discovered the reprehensible behavior you’ve kept hidden for decades. I was able to obtain independent confirmation through one of your ‘leather friends’. She was very much aware that you are quite fond of young boys. As I recall, the target age is ten to fourteen, preferably pre-pubescent. Enrique, what makes this abhorrent to me, as I’m sure it will to Ramon, isn’t just the beatings you administered. You spent hours raping those young boys afterward. The word reprehensible doesn’t come close to describing how I feel about this. For all his viciousness and lack of compassion, I’m betting your brother will agree with me.”
Ramon stopped. His expression was a mixture of confusion, rage and revulsion. “Is this true?” he asked.
Enrique was trying to come up with an answer when Ramon held up his hand. “Enough, Enrique, I can see it in your eyes. The Chameleon speaks the truth. If I had known this, I would have killed you years ago.”
Torano turned his attention back to the laptop.
“Enrique, I cannot and will not allow a man like you to continue living. I could have killed you in Corpus. The thought crossed my mind, but there was the matter of our business. I complete all my contracts as a matter of principle. That’s why I gave Ramon the information needed to find you - for retribution. He’ll be the weapon of death in my stead.”
The next line read,
“That’s all that I have for Enrique. The next message is for you, Ramon, please hit enter.”
Ramon pressed the enter key and a new message appeared. A digital timer caught his eye at the top. It was set for twenty seconds and immediately began counting down. The message to Ramon was short and to the point.
“Ramon, you really should have stayed out of my business. You gave me your word and then broke it. That forced me to kill Schultz just to get your attention. You swore you would wait two weeks and didn’t wait two days.”
“You should have left Enrique’s wife out of it. You put her through hell because of your brother’s treachery. I’ve told you before and often, families are off limits. Let’s not kid ourselves, in spite of your assurances to the contrary. You’d kill me in an instant if you got the chance. Ramon Torano, I have no intentions of dying by your hand. See you in hell, Hefe.”
Ramon was stunned. He looked up as the timer hit three seconds. “FUCKING CHAMELEON!” he screamed and ran for the door. He was half way across the room when two pounds of C-4 LJ had packed into the laptop exploded. Simultaneously, another ten pounds of Sem-Tex detonated, linked by blue tooth. The additional ten pounds had been divided equally between the BMW and the kitchen stove.
Leonard witnessed the explosion from a hilltop a mile away. The roof of the house was blown 20 feet upward as the walls turned to splinters. In less than two minutes the entire structure was engulfed in flames. With a satisfied look on his face, Leonard took out his sat-phone and made the call to Lazarus.
Chapter Forty-Eight
The Corpus Christi detective located Garza’s name on the flight manifest for Friday’s flight to Houston. TSA in Houston easily found his name listed on a flight manifest to Miami.
The Miami police weren’t able to locate him in any of the major hotels in the city. They also weren’t particularly motivated to try and find him. Garza wasn’t a murder suspect.
To all the law enforcement agencies involved at that point, it looked like a husband skipping out on his wife. There wasn’t anything illegal about that. As one Dade County Detective put it in an email to Rockport PD, “It’s the proverbial needle in the old haystack. Mr. Garza could be somewhere in the city or just as easily out of the country. He could be staying in a private residence or on a boat. Bottom line: we have zero leads on what looks like a husband that flew the coop. At this time, Dade County doesn’t have the resources to pursue your missing person case. I suggest you turn it over to the FBI and let them deal with it.”
A quick check of his bank accounts showed Garza hadn’t drained them. He’d taken two million dollars, leaving well over three million in the numerous joint accounts. The same went for his stock portfolio and other investments. Garza had recently sold his shares in Exxon-Mobil for over five hundred thousand, but that was the extent of it. It appeared he’d taken what he thought was enough to get by on, leaving the rest behind. There’d been no activity on his credit cards, which indicated to investigators he was paying cash for everything. They passed the information back to Rockport.
*****
The board of Gulf Coast Bank & Trust wasn’t as willing to accept the runaway husband angle. They called in the FBI to investigate the disappearance, prior to Rockport making the recommendation.
Angelique was interviewed several times regarding any knowledge she may have had concerning her husband’s link to the Cartel. The fact she never asked for an attorney carried some weight with the lead investigator - a 30-year veteran by the name of Nelson Thomas. He was unable, and quite frankly, not surprised to find any indication she was involved. He couldn’t find a connection with the bank employees either. Two or three had suspected something, but Garza was able to convince them the transfers were legal and legitimate.
Thomas believed someone had to have been moving the funds for him. Some of the activity was traced to an IP address in Corpus Christi. It turned out to be the unsecured Wi-Fi of a 73-year-old widow. Thomas believed an accomplice had piggy-backed the elderly lady’s router. Starting from that IP address, the transfers were routed through a minimum of 12 servers and as many as 38.
An FBI forensics accountant by the name of Rashid Aram, spent 4 days researching before finding the electronic “bread crumbs” Katsumi left. With those, Rashid was able to trace the original 16.7 million to the Cayman Islands. As the investigation progressed, he identified several companies linked to the funds, which turned out to be shell corporations. Eventually the research linked the bogus companies to the Zapatos cartel. After locating the account in the Caymans, the progress slowed as the trail became more difficult to follow. It took another two months for Rashid to find the additional transfers Katsumi had executed. Every time he identified a destination, the money had already been cleared out, adding to his frustration.
Rashid commented to Thomas, �
�You’ve got to hand it to this guy,” as usual, assuming it was a man. “He’s way better at this than anyone I’ve ever come across. The moves are intricate, bouncing all over the world and back. Three trails ended in accounts where no money was ever deposited. It’s beyond me how he did it, and that’s saying something.” Rashid took a lot of pride in his skill-set. Not being able to find the hacker was the most frustrating experience of his career. He was convinced, as was Thomas, that Garza didn’t have the technical know-how to manage the intricate transfers. There had to be an accomplice, and Rashid was determined to find him or her.
In the course of the investigation, a Corpus investigator gave Thomas the case file on Hannah Sands, former IT specialist at the bank. Thomas drew the incorrect conclusion that Sands was the accomplice, eliminated by Garza to cover his tracks.
The case was shaping up to be one of embezzlement, money laundering, bank fraud and murder. That got the Justice Department’s full attention. They threw additional resources into the investigation. The FBI didn’t know if Garza had skipped with the money or merely fled for his life. Either way, he was now wanted as a “person of interest” in the ongoing investigation.
*****
With the search in Florida hitting a dead end, they took another look at Houston. TSA had a 60% match on the man they believed to be Garza, getting on the flight to Miami. Sixty per cent wasn’t enough for Joe Sillimani, the agent assigned to review tape. They never had a clear shot of his face at Bush. The same applied in Miami, when he deplaned and got into a taxi.
Sillimani widened the search parameters, running facial rec on international flights. Two days into the search he got an 80% match on a man boarding a flight to Panama City. There was a 70% match in Panama City on a passenger traveling to Buenos Aires. Seventy to eighty per cent was better than the suspect they tracked to Miami. However, the search was short lived. Sillimani lost the suspect, leaving the Buenos Aires airport in a private limousine. General consensus: it probably was Garza.
Evolution of a Killer Page 28
