The Collectors

by David Baldacci

  Stone nodded and said in a warning tone, “Jonathan DeHaven inexplicably had one of the world’s most rare books. He was spying on an adulterous defense contractor and maybe saw more than sex. And no one knows how he really died.” He looked at his friends. “I think we have our work cut out for us.”

  “Why do we have to do anything?” Reuben asked.

  Stone looked at him. “Jonathan DeHaven might have been murdered. Someone followed us. Caleb works at the library, and he’s been commissioned to be DeHaven’s literary executor. If Cornelius Behan was involved in DeHaven’s death, he now might suspect that Caleb knows something. That might put Caleb at risk. So the sooner we find out the truth, the better.”

  “Wonderful,” Caleb said sarcastically. “I just hope I manage to live through it.”

  CHAPTER 23

  "YOU WILL RECEIVE AN E-MAIL from my people,” Annabelle said. She was standing in the operations center at the Pompeii Casino with several of Bagger’s people in attendance. “When you open the e-mail, it will provide you with detailed instructions.”

  One of the men spoke up. “We don’t like opening e-mails if we don’t know where they’re from.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Hit it with all your antivirus stuff. I’m assuming you’re state-of-the-art.”

  “We are,” the same man said confidently.

  “Then do like the lady told you and hit it hard,” Bagger said impatiently.

  Leo sat in one corner of the room, his gaze resolutely on the other men. His job was to note any degree of suspicion or concern while Annabelle went through her spiel. It didn’t hurt matters that she was wearing a very clingy, short skirt, with no hose and a blouse with the top two buttons undone. Every guy in the room followed each glimpse of her upper thighs and cleavage. And if they were doing that, they weren’t thinking as clearly as they should have been. Annabelle Conroy, Leo had long ago learned, used every asset in her arsenal.

  “The only form of acceptable communication will be through the secure Web portal contained in the e-mail. Under no circumstances will you use your phone or fax, both of which can be monitored. Correction,” she added, glancing at Bagger, “both of which are monitored.”

  Bagger raised his eyebrows on that comment but said, “You heard the woman. Nothing but the Net.” Bagger was no doubt secure in his cooperation because he had an ace, or in this case, two aces in the hole. He would be holding Annabelle and Leo until his money came back.

  “The e-mail will tell you where and how to send the funds. Two days later the funds will be automatically wired back to your account, plus the interest.”

  “And one million becomes one point one million in a couple of days, right?” Bagger said.

  Annabelle nodded. “Just like we said, Jerry. Not a bad payday.”

  “It better be,” he said ominously. “When can we start?”

  Annabelle checked her watch. “The e-mail should be coming over your system right about now.”

  Bagger snapped his fingers, and one of his men checked the computer.

  “Here it is,” the man said. He hit a few buttons. “I’m just running it through some extra security scans to make sure it’s clean.”

  Two minutes went by, and then the IT guy looked up. “Okay, it’s good.”

  “Open it,” Bagger ordered.

  “You have your own money-wiring capabilities, right?” Annabelle asked, even though her careful background research had already provided the answer.

  Bagger said, “Our system is piggybacked right onto the bank’s. I don’t like third parties controlling my money or necessarily knowing where my money’s going. The funds come from the bank right to us, and we send the wire out ourselves. That’s the way I like it.”

  I like it too, Annabelle said to herself.

  Ten minutes later $1 million of Jerry Bagger’s money was on its way to a very special account.

  Leaving the office, Bagger said to Annabelle, “All right, you’re my ‘guest’ for the next forty-eight hours. Give us a chance to get to know each other better.” He smiled and let his gaze run up and down her long, lithe figure.

  “Sounds good,” Annabelle said.

  “Yeah, sounds good,” Leo added.

  Bagger looked at Leo like he’d forgotten he was part of the deal. “Right,” he muttered.

  Over the next two days they ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with Bagger. At all other times Bagger’s men stood outside their hotel rooms at the Pompeii and accompanied them wherever they went. Annabelle also sat up late into the night having drinks with the casino king, but expertly playing off his advances with just enough encouragement to allow the man to remain hopeful. She carefully let out facts of her “history,” with just enough held back to guarantee intrigue and continued interest. He talked a lot about himself, with all the bravado and conceit one would have expected from such a man.

  “I think you would’ve made a good spy, Jerry,” she said admiringly as they relaxed on his couch over a couple of martinis. “You’ve got brains and nerve, that’s a rare combination.”

  “Look who’s talking.” He slid closer to her, gave her thigh a pat. Then he tried to grab a quick kiss, but she turned away.

  “Jerry, I could get into real trouble going down that road.”

  “Who’s gonna tell? Look, we’re all alone. I know I’m not a spring chicken, but I work out every day, and I think I’ll surprise you between the sheets, baby.”

  “Just give me some time. It’s not like I’m not attracted to you, but I’ve got a lot going on right now. Okay?” She gave him a peck on the cheek, and he finally backed off.

  At the end of the two-day period Bagger was $100,000 richer.

  “Want to try for five million, Jerry? That’ll get you half a million in interest in forty-eight hours.” Annabelle was casually perched on Bagger’s desk, her long legs crossed, while Leo sat on the couch.

  “Only if you hang around until it comes back,” Bagger said.

  She winked. “That’s part of the deal, Jerry. You get me all to yourself.”

  “So you keep telling me. Where’d my money go, by the way?”

  “Like I told you, El Banco del Caribe.”

  “No, I mean, what overseas operation did it fund?”

  Leo spoke up. “She could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you both.” There were a few moments of awkward silence until Annabelle laughed. Then Leo and finally Bagger joined in, the latter a little reluctantly.

  Two days later the $5-million wire had ballooned by $500,000.

  “Damn,” Bagger said, “this is better than printing money.” He was again in his office with Annabelle and Leo. “I know Uncle Sam has got a ton of dough, but how can even the government afford this?”

  Annabelle shrugged. “We can’t. That’s why we have trillion-dollar deficits. If we need more money, we just sell more T-bills to the Saudis and the Chinese. It won’t work forever, but it does for now.” She glanced at Bagger and put a hand on his arm. “But if you’re feeling sorry for Uncle Sam, Jerry, you can let us use your money for free.”

  He laughed. “My motto hasn’t changed in forty years: Every asshole for himself.”

  And a motto never fit anyone better than that one does you, Annabelle thought even as she smiled in mock admiration at the man.

  Bagger leaned forward in his chair, glancing at Leo as he did so. In a low voice he said to her, “You ever lose the shadow?”

  Annabelle said, “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how good of friends you and I become.”

  “I know how we can be really good friends.”

  “Tell me.”

  “We do a run for ten million, and I get an even mil for my troubles. Can Uncle Sam cover that action?”

  “Just wire the money, Jerry.”

  “And you stay right here until I get it back?”

  “We both do,” Leo said.

  Bagger grimaced and spoke in an even lower voice to her so Leo couldn’t hear. �
�I suppose I’d get in deep shit for whacking him, wouldn’t I?”

  “You remember the scum of the scum I talked to you about? You harm him, they show up on your doorstep. I really wouldn’t advise it.”

  “Well, damn,” Bagger complained.

  “It’s not a total loss, Jerry. In two days you make a million bucks for doing nothing except eating and drinking with me.”

  “I wanna do more than that, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Jerry, I knew that the first time you tried to put your hand up my dress.”

  Bagger roared with laughter. “I like your style, lady. You’re too good for the government. You should come and work for me. We’d take this town to a new level.”

  “I’m always open to future prospects. But for now why don’t we work on the next million for you? I want you to be able to afford to keep me in the manner to which I’ve grown accustomed.” She patted his hand, letting a fingernail dig lightly into his palm. She felt the shudder run through the man’s entire body.

  “You’re killing me here, baby,” he said in a pathetic whine.

  Oh, no, that comes next.

  CHAPTER 24

  TWO DAYS LATER BAGGER WAS ahead by a total of $1.6 million since he’d run into Annabelle and Leo, never realizing, of course, that the money had come from the $3 million they’d accumulated from the two short cons. Tony had authorized transfer of these “interest” payments from their account into the one holding Bagger’s money. It was similar in concept to a Ponzi scheme, which almost always self-destructed. Annabelle did not intend to allow that result to happen this time.

  Bagger’s happiness was palpable, particularly since he believed his dreaded antagonist, the government, was footing the bill. Sitting in her luxurious hotel room, upgraded to the presidential suite by Bagger himself after the latest payday, and awash in flowers sent by the casino king, Annabelle was scanning newspaper after newspaper for the kind of story she wanted, and finally found it. She and Leo could not speak frankly to each other anywhere in the casino. They had to assume that anything they said would be overheard either electronically or by one of Bagger’s spies. Their only form of real communication was subtle hand and eye signals that the two had developed over the years and would not be recognizable to anyone else.

  Passing each other in the hallway, Annabelle said good morning and then gave Leo a signal by adjusting a ring on her right index finger. He said hello back and then touched his tie knot and wiped his nose, thereby acknowledging both the receipt of her message and the action he would take.

  Before she stepped onto the elevator that would take her to Bagger’s office, Annabelle drew a deep breath. Contrary to what Leo had said, she did have nerves. This last step she was about to take was the whole ball game. If she didn’t pull this off perfectly, everything they’d done over the last several weeks would be for naught. She’d not only lose the money she’d paid Bagger, she wouldn’t live to enjoy her split of the remaining $1.4 million.

  She arrived at his office and was quickly ushered in, the muscle having grown accustomed to seeing her around. Bagger greeted her with a hug that she allowed to drift down lower than it should have. His hand reached her bottom, gently squeezing before she removed it. Still, she’d let him go a little farther each time, which she knew was all he really required right now. Smiling, he stepped back and said, “What can I do for my magic money genie this morning?”

  She frowned. “Bad news. I’ve been recalled to my field HQ, Jerry.”

  “What? What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I’m being reassigned.”

  “To where?” He looked at her face and said, “I know, you can’t tell me.”

  She held up the section of the newspaper she’d brought with her. “This might give you a hint.”

  He took the paper and glanced at the article she was pointing to. It detailed the breaking story of a government corruption scandal involving a foreign contractor in Russia.

  Bagger looked up at her, stunned. “You go from casinos to dirty contractors in Moscow?”

  She took the paper back. “Not just any foreign contractor.”

  “You know them?”

  “All I can say is it’s in the best interests of the United States that this case never gets to court. That’s where I come in.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “Hard to say. And after Russia it’ll be someplace else.” She rubbed at her temple. “You got some Advil?”

  He opened a drawer of his desk and handed her a bottle. She swallowed three with a glass of water he poured for her.

  He sat down. “You don’t look very good.”

  She perched on the edge of his desk and said wearily, “Jerry, I’ve been to so many places in the last year I’ve lost count. If I used a real passport, I’d have gone through about twenty of them. It just gets to you sometimes. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  “Why don’t you get out, then?” he urged.

  She laughed bitterly. “Get out? And what, screw my pension? I’ve put in too many years. Even civil servants have to eat.”

  “Come and work for me, then. I’ll pay you more in one year than you’d make in twenty with those clowns.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious. I like you. You’re good.”

  “You like the fact that I just made you over a million and a half bucks.”

  “Okay, I won’t deny that. But I’ve got to know you. And I like what I see, Pam.”

  “My name’s not even Pam. That’s how well you really know me.”

  “That just adds to the fun. Think about it, willya?”

  She hesitated and then said, “I have been thinking about my future lately. I’m not married; my life is my work and vice versa. And I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore.”

  He stood and put an arm around her shoulders. “Are you kidding me? You’re gorgeous. Any man would be lucky as hell to have you.”

  She patted his arm. “You haven’t seen me in the morning before I’ve had my coffee and put on my face.”

  “Oh, baby, just say the word and we’ll find out.” His hand fell to her lower back and stayed, gently rubbing. He reached over and hit a button on his desk console, and the automatic window blinds lowered.

  “What’s that for?” she asked, her eyebrows hiked.

  “I like my privacy.” His hand moved lower.

  Her phone buzzed, right on cue. She looked down at the number. “Oh, hell.” She rose and moved away from him, staring at the screen.

  “Who is it?” Bagger asked.

  “My section chief. His number comes up all zeros.” She composed herself and answered the phone. “Yes, sir?”

  She said nothing else for several minutes and then clicked off. “Son of a bitch, that asshole!” she yelled.

  “What is it, baby?”

  She paced in a tight circle and then stopped, obviously still seething. “My esteemed section chief has seen fit to change my field orders. Instead of a trip to Russia, I’m being reassigned to—get this—Portland, Oregon.”

  “Oregon. They need spies in Oregon?”

  “It’s the graveyard, Jerry. It’s where you get sent in my agency if people upstairs don’t like you.”

  “How do you go from Russia to Oregon on the same morning?”

  “The Russian gig came from my field supervisor. Oregon from my section chief, that’s the next level up. His assignment takes priority.”

  “What’s your section chief got against you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m doing my job too well.” She started to say something else and then stopped.

  Bagger quickly picked up on this. “Spill it. Come on, maybe I can help.”

  She sighed. “Well, believe it or not, the man wants to sleep with me. Only he’s married, and I told him to back off.”

  Bagger nodded his head. “The bastard! It’s always the same crap. The ladies don’t put out, they get pushed out.”

 
Annabelle was staring down at her hands. “This screws my career, Jerry. Portland! Damn it!” She hurled her phone against the wall, where it broke in half. Then she slumped in a chair. “Maybe I just should’ve slept with the guy.”

  Bagger started rubbing her shoulders. “No way. Guys like that, you do it once they keep expecting it. Then they get tired of you, or get a new