At one point, while following up a footnote, Titus came across a reference to a paper by García Prieto Burden, lecturer at the Centre for the Study of Terrorism and Political Violence at the University of St. Andrews, St. Andrews, Scotland.
The reports of the four Rio de Janeiro abductions were given in more detail than Burden had related to Titus, but there were also cross-references to even longer accounts. Any word that was cross-referenced and had expanded data in another file was printed in a distinctive typeface. Even though the dossier seemed thorough and packed with information, there were also ample signs of copious deletions, information Titus was not allowed to see.
As if he were prescient, Burden walked into his study just as Titus was finishing the last pages. He stopped a little way from the library table where Titus sat. The deep casement of the doorway leading out to the second courtyard behind him framed him in its light, the shadow of the room too dark for Titus to make out the language of his features.
“What do you think? ”Burden asked him.
Titus was nearly dizzy with information that was so outrageous that he sometimes felt as if he had been reading a work of fiction. The dossier, together with Burden's own accounts of Luquín's rampages, filled Titus with fear. The man was like a virulent disease that, by some strange biological perversity, had become a specific threat at this time to Titus's friends and family.
But Titus had tried to read between the lines, and it seemed to him that the curious deletions in Luquín's files were pointing to Luquín being a threat on a scale that far exceeded highdollar extortion and kidnappings, even if the ransom was in the tens of millions of dollars. Titus was getting the impression that Luquín's lethal reach embraced continents. Burden had already alluded to this, but the deletions in Luquín's files clearly indicated that allusions were all that Titus could expect to get from Burden.
“This is scary as hell, ”Titus said. “That's what I think.” He swallowed, looking at Burden's silhouette against the light. “But … help me understand this … if Luquín started killing people … I mean, he's threatening me with a kind of slaughter here. He might get by with that in Colombia, but not in the States. How could he?”
Burden looked at him, saying nothing. He just stood there in silence, waiting, waiting until Titus remembered. Of course it could happen in Austin. God, if we'd learned nothing else from the recent past, we'd learned that anything could happen anywhere. Death, even outrageous death, gave no special dispensation to accidents of geography or nationality.
Chastened by Burden's silence and by the sound of his own naiveté echoing in his ears, Titus ducked his head and then looked up again.
“Okay, that was stupid, ”he conceded, “but still, help me understand how he's going to carry out his threats and maintain the silence he's promising, and demanding, at the same time. I mean, what are the logistics of what he's talking about? Mayhem and silence just aren't compatible.”
Burden's silhouette, his hands in his pockets, one shoulder angled a little lower than the other, moved out of the doorway and drifted into the shadows gathered at the edges of the bookcases. The ambient light was too little, and Titus couldn't see him well. Outside, the day was turning soft, descending toward late afternoon.
“Look at what's going on here, ”Burden said from a corner. “He's not going to do in Austin what he does in Colombia or Brazil. This is not a stupid man.
“Go back to the Rio cases. With each case Tano learned something to do, and not to do, in each subsequent abduction. First case: He learned the K and R people only made matters less lucrative and less efficient for him.
“Second case: He eliminates them by contacting the family instead of the corporation. But he still has to put pressure on the family to put pressure on the corporation to pay up. Working with two separate entities is still inefficient.
“Third case: This time he makes sure that the victim and his family are major stockholders in the company. They'll have more leverage in making the company pay than a mere employee would. Still, the demands are on the family, not the corporation. When there's a glitch, he has to kidnap a relative of the original victim before the family presses for payment and Luquín gets his money.
“Fourth case: This time he made sure he chose a victim who was a major stockholder in the company. But it was publicly held, and some of the board members insisted on this supersecret SWAT team's intervention. Caused Tano a lot of trouble. Still he had to threaten to kill additional employees to force their hand.”
Burden moved along the wall of books until he stopped at the feet of the reclining nude woman with the monkey.
“Fifth case: You. What's he learned? To whittle down his irritants. No K and R people. No police. No corporate interests versus family interests. No publicly held company with a board to answer to. And even more ingenious, no crime. You'll be buying foreign companies. No noise. Everything done silently—and with seeming legitimacy.”
Burden stopped. He took a few steps toward Titus.
“No noise, ”he said. “What does that say to us, Titus? Do you think he's going to commit a series of brash, Colombianstyle assassinations in Austin? Remember: He said that when this is all over no one will even know that any crime has been committed. Use your imagination.”
He came across the room and stood on the other side of the table from Titus. Thinking, he put his fingers on the fountain pen that lay in the gutter of the opened book.
“Imagine this, Titus. Let's say you decide that working with me isn't the way to go. You go to the FBI. Luquín discovers this immediately and disappears. You tell the FBI everything, but the fact is, you don't really have any proof that what you're telling them actually happened. Except the dead dogs. We've already cleaned up the bugs. Their files on Luquín are sparse, and he's been off the radar screen for a decade. They find your story interesting, curious, but frankly, a little suspicious, too. But it's all over, and you've averted a huge loss of money. You've saved lives. Close call.
“Six months from now a friend dies unexpectedly. A car wreck. Or a hunting accident. Or a heart attack. Afterwards you get an e-mail: ‘Hello, Titus. I told you not to go to the FBI. You should have listened to me.’You go to the FBI again and tell them what's happened. They listen. You're a respectable man, so they take you seriously. But, really, there's just nothing they can do about proving that an accident like that was actually a murder caused by a bad guy from Brazil.
“Time passes. A friend's wife in San Francisco drowns while swimming laps in her pool. You get an e-mail: ‘Hello, Titus. It's me again. You should have listened to me.'
“Five months later, the teenage daughter of another friend in Boca Raton, all the way across the continent, overdoses on drugs. Shocking, because the child had absolutely no exposure to such things. You get an e-mail: ‘Hello, Titus …'”
Burden slid the fountain pen along the gutter of the page an inch or two.
“Do you see how this could happen? ”he asked. “Every time you go to the FBI. But you understand, Luquín won't always go after your closest friends. He'll scatter the deaths across the country and across relationships. Maybe even extended family members of your employees. Six months apart. A year apart. Can you imagine how many people would die before the FBI could ever establish a connection in a scenario like that? If they ever did?
“Can you imagine how it's going to make you look to keep going back and saying: Please! You've got to believe me. That tractor accident in Iowa was really a murder. It's this guy in Brazil who wanted to extort sixty-four million dollars… . And Luquín's going to make sure you can't capture his e-mails. There'll be no proof. It could go on and on.
“Tano Luquín is no ideologue, ”Burden went on. “He knows nothing about ideals or dreams or political causes, and he cares nothing for them. He's a common criminal. Venal. Violent. Egotistic. He's the kind of man who can be found in every generation and in every culture. A predator. You have something he wants, and he's going to take it.
r /> “But the difference is that today clever men like Luquín have so many more powerful resources in the technology at their disposal. To anticipate them, you have to be willing to imagine beyond your assumptions, to be willing to make that leap into the realm of the unbelievable. I can assure you, they have. Luquín is wealthy. His methods and resources are sophisticated. His imagination and appetites are unrestrained.”
Burden's point was well made, and chilling.
“Okay, ”Titus said, “just tell me this: Can you stop him? Can you save lives?”
Burden didn't answer immediately, and with every second he hesitated, Titus's hopes diminished with a grim effect on his spirit.
“I think I can stop him, ”Burden said. “I can save lives. But I can't save all of them. I've told you that. That's what I think.
“You have to remember, ”he continued, “Tano's ego is tied directly to his stature in his own mind. He's warned you. You go against that warning, and you've insulted him by not respecting his power to dictate to you. He's going to make you pay for it. And he's going to make sure you know you're paying for it.”
Titus was feeling trapped.
“I could just cough up the money. Get it over with.”
“Yeah, you could do that, ”Burden agreed. “And maybe that would end it for you. But it would also guarantee that Luquín would go on doing what he does, and with even more resources. You'd guarantee that someone else would be put through the same hell that you're going through. And your money would be financing it. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want that on my conscience.”
Titus found it a little difficult to get his breath.
He looked toward the windows and the opened doorway. He felt alienated, estranged from his life before last night. Adrift. Outside, the light and the sounds were foreign. The language was foreign. The smells belonged to other people, and the rhythm of life belonged to another culture. It all contributed to a sense of uncertainty.
Uncertainty, however, was only part of it. His anger was still there, too, slowly evolving into a determination to fight back. Somehow. But not at the cost of someone else's life. Not even one. Burden was probably right that Luquín would find out if he went to the FBI. Sooner or later. And then there was Burden's other prediction, that someone was going to die anyway, regardless, just so Luquín could establish his authority.
He looked at Burden, who was studying him just an arm's reach across the round table, his face a narrative of the effects of sustained secret struggles. Whatever his life had been like, it wasn't entirely hidden from anyone who cared enough to try to understand what they were looking at. It was sculpted into his face and had shaped the sorrowful angle of his eyes. Whatever it was this man knew, he'd paid dearly for it. Titus couldn't ignore that.
And then there was Gil Norlin's advice: If you follow this guy's recommendations, you won't have to worry about whether or not you're doing the right thing. You can believe what he says.
Titus took a deep breath, one that reached down into the place that made him what he was, to the place that defined him.
“Okay, ”he said to Burden, “let's do whatever it is we have to do. And let's do it as fast as we can.”
Chapter 15
“Guys like Tano have brilliantly taken advantage of the effects that terrorism has had on U.S. domestic security, ”said Mattie Selway. She was the roan-haired woman Titus had seen in Burden's war room earlier in the day. She had joined Titus and Burden in the study, bringing with her a black ring binder that she kept in her lap, occasionally flipping the pages back and forth, making notes.
“They foresaw that for the immediate future, at least, the preponderance of the U.S.'s law enforcement, intelligence services, and domestic security would be poured into reacting to this new threat. Addressing a crisis like this creates a kind of tunnel vision in the national psyche. People want the damn thing solved, they want it to go away. The government wants to accommodate them. Luquín knew that in the States it was going to be all eyes—and money and commitment—on international terrorism for the foreseeable future. We've seen this in the FBI's reassignments, pulling huge numbers of agents from narcotics operations, others from violent crime units, others from white-collar crime, to work in counterterrorism.”
The sun had fallen behind the towering fresno and eucalipto trees outside and was sinking toward the Sierra de Morenos in the west. They sat in an eerie twilight that Titus was beginning to associate with Burden himself.
“Several things stand out as interesting to us, ”she continued. “One: the size of the ransom, of course. That's probably a reflection of his confidence in his plan. Two: the way he wants it paid. Smart. It'll work. After you've made your investments, the money will evaporate like a morning mist. It just won't exist anymore, lost in the vast electronic void. And third: the fact that Luquín himself has crossed the border for this.”
“I think this last one's the one that'll give us our opening,” Burden said from a dark pocket of the room. He was continuing to roam the parameters of the gloomy space. “Mattie thinks the unusual financial arrangements are our best bet. In any event, there are some basic preparations. Your computer's ready to go. I talked to Herrin about an hour ago, and he says they're finding phone taps and bugs all over your house. ”He stopped and looked across at Titus through the dim light. “And you need to get your wife back here, ”he said.
Before Titus could open his mouth to respond, the Mayan woman appeared in the opened doorway where the balconies led to the buildings next door.
“García, ”she said, “we've got Luquín coming in on Mr. Cain's laptop.”
Within moments they were all standing around one of the desks, staring at the screen of Titus's computer, reading the incredible message.
Following is a list of enterprises in which you will want to invest and/or contribute. I suggest you begin immediately with 15% of the $64 million you wanted to utilize.
Please complete that transaction within 48 hours of this message.
Follow that with an additional 32% investment of the total within 72 hours.
Marcello Cavatino Inversiónes, S.A., in Buenos Aires will be happy to provide you with the professional services necessary to execute these transactions.
The list of businesses and charities followed. One in Mexico, two in Brazil, one in Lebanon, one in St. Kitts, two in Monaco. Titus stared over the Mayan girl's shoulder and gaped at the computer screen.
“Bonnie, see if you can find them, ”Burden said to the Asian woman, who was now wearing jeans and a Oaxacan embroidered huipil. She went to work on another computer.
Titus stared at the screen and sat in one of the chairs without saying a word. He was shaken. How many times could he be surprised like this? He didn't know what he'd thought Luquín's first message would be, but he hadn't expected this.
“What's the matter? ”Burden asked. “Liquidity?”
Titus was oblivious. The money. Jesus. He should have written it down on a piece of paper and looked at it. The whole thing had been so unreal that he hadn't yet focused on what it would mean to divest himself of $64 million—a quarter of CaiText's net worth. Seeing the beginnings of the process on the computer screen was unnerving.
“That's nearly ten million dollars in two days, ”Burden said, “and then nearly twenty-one million three days after that.”
“Yes, I can get the ten. I'll have to work on the twentyone.”
“Okay. Well, we have to move fast now, ”Burden said, glancing at his watch. “It's three-thirty, for all practical purposes.”
Mattie turned to Titus.
“Luquín's job here is a lot easier than laundering money,” she said. “With laundering you're trying to cover up where the money came from. In this case that's not a problem. Luquín wants to hide where it's going. So when Cavatino disperses your investments among these seven enterprises, that'll probably be the last time we'll really know anything for sure about it. From those places it'll be buried under an aval
anche of trade.”
“García, ”Bonnie said from her computer, “the companies are coming up. All of them. No, wait, one of the charities, the one in Monaco, isn't showing yet. All the companies are less than a year old. Marcello Cavatino Inversiónes, S.A., has been around three years.”
“Good. Do some work on them.”
But Burden was waiting, still staring at the computer screen with Mattie and the Mayan girl, as if they were all expecting another message. The room was silent except for Bonnie's fingers snapping on the keys across the room.
The ping of another message was like a gunshot.
“Here we go, ”the Mayan girl said, and the screen flashed a short, terse message.
Charlie Thrush has paid for your stupidity. You should have lived with the surveillance.
Titus was standing again, again staring over the girl's shoulder. It took him some time—he had no sense of dura tion—to make the two words fit into the context of the moment. Charlie Thrush?
Then Burden asked, “Where did Thrush live?”
The past tense of the question hit Titus like a blow to the stomach. Suddenly he had no moisture at all in his mouth. “On a ranch west of Austin.”
“Where? Exactly.”
“Fredericksburg. Near there. ”He thought he was going to be sick.
“Rosha, ”Burden said, and the Mayan girl swiveled to another computer and began typing furiously.
Titus saw Charlie talking, his lanky frame sprawled in a chair in front of one of his computer screens, his long fingers flapping on the keys as if he were playing the piano, his head half turned as he talked, explaining the theory behind the calculus and the quantum mechanics on the screen. He saw him with his head buried in a book in a small pool of light in a dark room. He saw him handing Rita a wicker basket of his own peaches with a crooked grin, telling her that Titus still didn't have the knack to grow anything as sweet as these.
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