by Stuart Woods
“Good God,” Eagle said.
“There’s no extradition from Mexico, is there?”
“Not even for murder,” Eagle replied.
“How much did she get away with?”
“One million, one hundred thousand dollars,” Eagle replied. “Of the bank’s money.”
“The bank’s money?”
“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it,” Eagle said.
“Sounds good to me,” Betty said. “Now, you’d better get on your feet and slap a smile on your face, because the governor just arrived, and the place is filling up fast.”
Ed stood up. “When the party’s over, send somebody out to the airport to pick up Barbara’s Range Rover.” He unclipped the key from his ring and handed it to her. “Can you think of anything else I should do?”
“Sure. Call the FBI.”
“Good idea,” he said. “Remind me when all these people have gone.” He straightened his tie and, trying not to look pale, walked out of his office and onto the terrace, where his guests were gathering.
Three
EAGLE HEADED STRAIGHT FOR THE GOVERNOR AND RECEIVED him warmly. Since Eagle had been a steady contributor to the man’s campaigns’ first for congress, then for governor, the warmth was returned.
When that duty had been accomplished, he worked the crowd, shaking every hand, accepting compliments on his new quarters, charming everyone wherever he went. The crowd drank, ate, then thinned, and after he had pumped the last hand, he returned to his office, where the bank president and the chairman of his board awaited on his sofa.
“Fred, Arthur,” he said, sitting down opposite them.
“I’ll come right to the point, Ed,” Fred said. “Arthur and I have canvassed every member of the board, we’ve talked to our attorneys, and we’ve consulted the state banking board. It’s like this: Barbara was a signator on both accounts, though not an owner of the accounts.”
“I know that, Fred.”
“Therefore, the bank is not liable for her actions. We received a lawful instruction from her, and we complied. Barbara has stolen not from the bank, but from you. You’re a lawyer; you should know that.”
“I had forgotten Barbara was a signator on the firm account,” Eagle said. “A year and a half ago, she reorganized our billing and payables, and we put her signature on the account at that time. We never removed it.”
“I’m sorry we can’t be of more help,” Fred said. “I know this puts you in a temporary bind. We can do a short-term loan to help your cash flow situation. How’s half a million?”
Eagle did some quick calculations. He had to finish paying for the work on the offices, nearly half a million; the party had cost fifty grand, and he had other payables, too. Also, he had to repurchase stocks to avoid taxes. “I’ll need a million and a half, Fred,” he said.
Fred and Arthur exchanged a glance. “That’s above my lending limit, Ed; Arthur’s, too. We’ll have to go to committee.”
“How long?”
“We meet every Wednesday. I can do the half-million immediately, if that helps.”
Eagle nodded. He hated borrowing money. “Send me the note this afternoon.” He stood up. “Thanks for your help, Fred, Arthur. I needn’t tell you this has to be kept highly confidential, even from your board, if that’s possible.”
“They already know, Ed, from our discussions earlier today. I’ll impress upon each of them the necessity of confidentiality.”
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t get to tell you earlier,” Fred said, “but the offices are magnificent, a credit to the community.”
“Thank you, Fred.” They shook hands and left.
Betty came in as soon as they were gone. “Russell Norris is on the phone.”
Eagle picked it up and pressed the button. “Russell?”
“Ed, I’m afraid we’re too late. If we’d known yesterday, I might have been able to intercept the funds.”
“Oh.”
“She bounced the money to Mexico City, just like her sister did a couple of years ago. It went to the Banco Internacional this morning; I might be able to do something there, depending on how fast she moves. It’s Friday; I could be there when the bank opens on Monday morning.”
“Barbara flew to Mexico City this morning, so she got there before the banks closed. She might have had time to move the money again.”
“Does she know the details of the Willett business, what her sister did?”
“A rough outline. She knows we stopped the funds in the Caymans before they could go to Mexico. She might think they’re safe in Mexico and not move fast.”
“Then it’s worth the trip,” Norris said. “You want me to go?”
“Yes, please. Let me know something on Monday.”
“I’m on it,” Norris said, then hung up.
Eagle buzzed Betty. “Get me Cupie Dalton.” Cupie was an ex-LAPD detective, now a P.I. who gained his nickname on the force because of his resemblance to the Cupie Doll: plump and pink.
“Hey, Ed, what’s up?”
“I’ll make it quick, Cupie. My wife ran off with a lot of my money; she landed in Mexico City this morning. She sent the money to the Banco Internacional there, so she may still be in town. I want you to find her. How’s your Spanish?”
“My mother was half Mexican,” Cupie said. “I get along. What do you want me to do when I find her?”
Eagle liked it that Cupie said “when,” not “if.” “Follow her wherever she goes, and call me. Does your cell phone work down there?”
“Yep. I’ll need five grand up front; you got the account number?”
“I do; it’ll be there in an hour.”
“Then I’ll be in Mexico City by bedtime.”
“Call me.” Eagle hung up and buzzed Betty. “Wire Cupie Dalton five thousand.”
“Have we got five thousand?”
Eagle winced. “Fred’s putting half a million in the account this afternoon; somebody’ll be here with a note soon.”
“There’s a kid with an envelope in reception now. Hang on.”
A moment later, Betty came in with the note; Eagle signed it, wincing again at the interest rate, and she stuffed it back in the envelope and returned it to the messenger.
There was a rap on the office door. “Come in!” Eagle yelled.
Wolf Willett opened the door and came in. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,” Wolf said. “I was held up in a meeting at Centurion Studios.” He looked around. “The place is gorgeous.”
“Thanks, Wolf. Sit down.”
“You look beat. Big crowd?”
“Big crowd, but that’s not why I’m beat.”
“What’s going on?”
“Your former sister-in-law left town this morning after wiring a little more than a million dollars of my money to an offshore bank. She’s in Mexico City, I think.”
“Oh, my God, Ed.”
“Yeah.”
“The good news is, I stopped another four million from being wired from my brokerage account before she got her hands on it.”
“It’s like Julia all over again, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“I feel responsible; you’d never even have met Barbara if…”
“None of that, pal; we’re both victims, that’s all.”
“Ed, I turned in the negative of my new movie this morning and got a big check. If you’re short…”
“The bank will come through with some short-term money, I think. But thanks.”
“If they don’t, or if the terms are unacceptable, I’m good for a million or two.”
Eagle grinned. “With a friend like you, who needs friends?”
“I mean it. I can actually write you a check on my brokerage account right now.” Wolf patted his jacket pocket.
“Thanks anyway, but I’m okay. Can I buy you dinner tonight?”
“No, but I’ll buy you dinner. Are Jane and Sara here?”
“No, Jane had some wo
rk to do this weekend. They’re staying in L.A.”
“It’s just you and me, then.”
“You and me.”
“Santa Café at eight?”
“Sure, I’ll book. I’ve got one more call to make, now; have a look around, and pardon all the dirty glasses.”
“See you later.” Wolf left, closing the door behind him.
Eagle picked up the phone and called the FBI.
Four
THE SPECIAL AGENT IN CHARGE OF THE SANTA FE FIELD office of the FBI was somebody Eagle had dealt with fairly often and knew well. Carlos Rodriguez was a native Santa Fean who’d been sent to his hometown office because he was good and because he would look good in the community.
“What can I do for you, Ed?” Rodriguez asked.
Eagle explained what had happened.
Rodriguez emitted a long sigh. “Well, Ed, I’m sure you already knew this, and it’s just as bad as you thought. The woman is your legal wife, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“And she was an authorized signator on both accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Then what you’ve got here is a civil matter.”
“You mean she hasn’t committed a crime?”
“Not unless she failed to file the federal form for moving more than ten thousand dollars, but the bank probably did that automatically. Anyway, I don’t know of anybody ever being arrested for failing to file. That charge is usually lumped in with others in these cases. So you’ll have to sue her to get your money back, like in divorce court. You are divorcing her, aren’t you?”
That brought Eagle up short; he hadn’t gotten that far, yet. “I expect so.” That sounded funny to his own ears. Twelve hours before, he had been in love with the woman.
“Then bring it up when the property settlement is discussed. Take it out of her share.”
“Thanks, Carlos,” Eagle said, then hung up.
There was a knock on his door, and Eagle looked up to find Judge Eamon O’Hara standing there, accompanied by two lawyers he knew. He had thought all his guests had left. “Come in, judge,” he said. “Take a chair. Can I get you a drink?”
The judge and the two lawyers went to his sofa and sat down. “Thanks, Ed, we’ve already had one. You know Dan and Enrico, don’t you?”
“Of course. Glad to see you, fellows.” He pulled up a chair. “What’s up?”
“You know James Reardon, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Reardon was a local lawyer.
“Well, Jimmy just blew his brains out in the courthouse men’s room, about four hours ago.”
“I hadn’t heard,” Eagle said. “Has he got a family?”
“Wife and a child. He shot them at home this morning, before he came to the courthouse.”
“The man must have been stark raving.”
“If so, nobody noticed, certainly not me,” the judge said. “Now Jimmy solved his own problem by eating his gun, but he didn’t solve mine.”
“And what’s your problem, judge?”
“Jimmy had three cases scheduled for trial in my court over the next six weeks: one fellow with half a dozen charges of burglary against him, another for repeated domestic abuse, and a triple murder. All were court-assigned. My guess is they’ll all eventually plead out, but we haven’t gotten around to that yet, and the public defender’s office is overwhelmed at the moment, so I’m going to appoint you three hombres to the cases, and I’m not in the mood to take no for an answer. Everybody got that?”
Nobody said anything. This was an annoyance that came up from time to time, and since all three lawyers regularly tried cases in O’Hara’s court, they weren’t inclined to annoy him by begging off.
The judge reached into his pocket and came up with three toothpicks. He broke one in half, an end off another and left the third whole. Behind his back he rearranged them, then held them up so the ends were visible. “Pick a straw, each of you.”
The two lawyers on the sofa each took one, concealing them, then Eagle took the remaining one. Then they held them up.
“Enrico,” the judge said, “you got the long straw, so you get the domestic abuse, so to speak; Dan, the medium straw and the burglar is yours; and Ed, you got the short straw. Boys, the burglar and the wife beater are in the city jail; Ed, your triple murderer is in the local hoosegow.” He handed each of them a file. “There are their particulars. I’ll expect to hear from you early next week on whether you want to go to trial.”
Shit, Eagle thought. He didn’t want to think about this right now. “Thank you so much, judge,” he said.
The judge got to his feet. “And let’s keep the hours down, boys; I don’t want you busting my budget.”
Eagle shook the hands of all three men, and they left.
Betty came in. “What did the judge want?”
“He’s dragged me into a triple homicide,” Eagle replied.
“Oh, was one of them Barbara?”
“Nope.”
“Too bad.”
Five
EAGLE ARRIVED AT SANTA CAFÉ ON TIME AND FOUND Wolf Willett already at the bar, sipping bourbon. Eagle ordered a Laphroaig, his favorite single-malt Scotch.
“I don’t know why you drink that stuff,” Wolf said, nodding at the amber liquid in Eagle’s hand.
“Nectar of the gods,” Eagle replied, “unlike that Kentucky horse piss you drink.”
“It’s the patriotic thing to do,” Wolf replied, raising his glass. “Unlike that foreign camel sweat you imbibe. How’d the party go today?”
“The way it was supposed to, I guess,” Eagle said.
“You don’t sound too happy about it. Or is it the thing with Barbara that’s got you down.”
“Jesus, Wolf, I was in love with the woman, really I was.”
“I was in love with Julia, too, right up to the moment when she tried to kill me and take my money. At least, Barbara didn’t try to kill you.”
“Maybe she did. She put Ambien in my wine last night; I found the bottle in her bathroom, empty. Maybe she didn’t use enough; maybe she forgot to refill the prescription.”
“You didn’t see this coming, then?”
“I guess that’s what really pisses me off. I pride myself on being able to read people, but man, I didn’t read her.”
The head waitress came to the bar. “Your table is ready, Mr. Willett, Mr. Eagle.”
They got up and followed her into the next room, where she seated them by the fireplace. The aromas of piñon smoke and good food filled the space. They ordered dinner and a bottle of wine.
“Are you going to put the cops on her?” Wolf asked.
Eagle shook his head. “She hasn’t broken the law, just me.”
“She steals what, a million two? And that doesn’t break the law?”
“She was authorized to sign on both accounts. The brokerage accounts, too, but I got to the broker five minutes before he wired her another four million.”
“Good timing. What are you going to do?”
“Well, forgiving her and inviting her back isn’t going to work, since she obviously wants to be somewhere else.”
“With somebody else?”
“I have no idea.”
“So, what are your options?”
“As far as I can figure, two: let her keep the money and divorce her, or find her and kill her.”
“I hope you’re not considering the second option.”
“No, I’m not mad enough at her—not yet, anyway—just disappointed.”
“Well, if you can get a divorce without giving her any more money, that wouldn’t be such a bad deal.”
“I guess not.”
“Does she have any other money?”
“Her first husband was a jeweler in New York; he gave her a lot of diamonds, but I’ve no idea what they’re worth.” He recalled that he had met Barbara in prison, after she had let her boyfriend through the security to rob her husband’s business, and the boyfriend had shot the husband. She had t
urned state’s evidence and gotten a short sentence, then had been paroled in a general release of nonviolent prisoners due to prison overcrowding.
“So, she should be pretty comfortable.”
“Not as comfortable as she was here,” Eagle said, “but I guess she could live well enough in Mexico on what she’s got. Of course, she was counting on another four million.”
Eagle’s cell phone vibrated on his belt. “Hello?”
“Ed, it’s Cupie.”
“Where are you, Cupie?”
“In Mexico City.”
“Jesus, that was fast.”
“I connected with a good flight.”
“Any luck?”
“I got a list of expensive hotels here off the Internet before I left, and I started calling them on the airplane phone. She’s registered at an elegant little inn called El Parador, very swish. I’m standing across the street now. What are your instructions?”
“If I told you to shoot her, would you?”
There was a brief silence. “I wouldn’t want to discuss that on the phone,” Cupie replied.
“Only joking, Cupie. What I’d like you to do is to follow her when she leaves the hotel, and when she sits down somewhere, call me, then give her the phone.”
“Okay, I can do that. I’ll go into the hotel, in case she’s having dinner there.”
“Before I talk to her, I’d like to know if she’s alone or with somebody.”
“Okay, I’ll see what kind of information a fifty will get me.”
“Talk to you later.” Eagle hung up and turned to Wolf. “I sent a P.I. down there, and he’s found her.”
“That’s some P.I.,” Wolf said.
“He’s a smart guy; he’s been useful in the past—on your case, as it happens. He found out that Julia and her boyfriend had gotten false passports.”
Their dinner arrived. Eagle hadn’t felt hungry, but the news that Barbara had been found had improved his appetite. “So,” he said, “Centurion Studios bought your final cut on the movie?” Wolf had made many movies with a partner, and he’d made one from his partner’s script after his death, but Eagle knew this was his first film made from his own script.
“They did, and without an argument.”
“Are you happy with it?”
“I certainly am. If it does good business, I’ll be back where I was with the studio when Jack was alive.”
