Murphy took a step backward. He raised the bundle of cash and fanned it with his thumb. All twenties. None fresh. “This is at least a thousand dollars.” He pointed at the briefcase. “You must have fifteen just like it in there.”
“I told you, it’s for an investment.”
“What kind of investment?” Murphy said. When it came to women, cars, clothes, or money, Gaudet couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He was a born braggart. “What the hell are you into… partner?” Murphy spit out the last word.
Gaudet stepped forward. His face had lost its trapped look. Now it just looked hard. “I need that money.”
Murphy drove his left hand into Gaudet’s chest and shoved him away. At the same time he swept his sport coat back with his right hand and grabbed the butt of his pistol. “You take another step toward me, I’ll put a bullet in your knee.”
“I’m not threatening you, partner. I just need that money back.”
“Don’t ‘partner’ me,” Murphy said. “Real partners don’t screw each other over like this. Because when you get caught doing whatever it is you’re doing, PIB is going to think I was doing it with you. I’ve got enough trouble with those cocksuckers without you adding to it.”
Gaudet shook his head. “I wouldn’t do you like that, brother.”
“Bullshit, you’ve already done it.” Murphy glanced around the parking lot and dropped his hand from his pistol. “They could be watching you right now. And if they are, they just got both of us on video arguing over a briefcase full of cash.”
“It’s not like that, Murphy. Everything is cool. Nobody is ever going to find out about this. If you want, I can bring you in on it.”
“I don’t want in on anything,” Murphy said. “All that time in narcotics, all that money we seized, did you ever see me take a dime of it?”
Gaudet raised his eyebrows. “Free food, free drinks, dead men buying our lunch. What the hell do you call that? Don’t get so self-righteous with me, motherfucker. I’ve seen you do plenty of shit.”
Murphy stared at Gaudet. “A lot of things about this job are gray, but there is a line. You know it and I know it.” He jabbed a finger at the briefcase clutched under his partner’s arm. “And you crossed it. Worse than that, though, is you dragged me across with you.”
Gaudet glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go somewhere, and I need that money you’re holding. As soon as I get back, we’ll forget this ever happened.”
“Where do you have to go at six o’clock in the morning with a hurricane coming and the whole city shut down?”
“That’s not your concern,” Gaudet said.
“Tell me what you’re into, Juan, and I’ll help you get out of it. We’ll come up with something. We always do.” Murphy held up the stack of cash. “Otherwise, I’ve got to take this to the captain. You can explain it to him. If it’s just an investment, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
For a moment they stared at each other without speaking, the silence broken only by the sound of the wind whipping through the trees. Then Gaudet turned away. He slammed the trunk closed and walked toward the driver’s door. “Keep it then.”
“You’re forcing me to go to the captain with this,” Murphy said. “That’s the only way I can protect myself.”
Gaudet looked over the roof of the Caprice. “And if I tell you, then what? You’re going to forget about it? You’re going to pretend it didn’t happen?”
“I’ll help you get out of it.”
“It’s bigger than you can imagine, and it involves people you can’t touch.”
Murphy stared at Gaudet for several seconds. “Tell me who bought you.”
“Nobody bought me. I had an opportunity and I took it.”
“How much is in the briefcase?”
“Twenty g’s,” Gaudet said. He pointed to the stack of bills in Murphy’s hand. “Nineteen now, but you can keep that as a taste of what you’re missing.”
Twenty thousand dollars. The drug trade was the only business Murphy knew of that dealt in that kind of cash. But he and Gaudet didn’t work drug cases anymore. They were homicide cops. Murderers didn’t have money. “Where did you get it?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why? If you’re so determined to rat on your partner, what does it matter where it came from? The funny thing is, it’s not even dirty money. It’s business money. It’s legit money.”
“Is that why you’re carrying it in a briefcase, wrapped up with rubber bands? Is that why you’re running scared?”
Gaudet glanced at his watch again. “I’m not running scared. I’m just running late.”
Murphy stepped out from behind the car. He dropped his hand back on his gun. “Tell me where you got it.”
Gaudet glanced around. They were alone in the parking lot. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “Okay, hero, I’ll tell you. I got it from the mayor.”
“What?”
Gaudet nodded. “See, I told you you didn’t want to know.”
“How?”
“I’m working with the mayor’s Rebuild New Orleans Task Force.” Gaudet tapped the briefcase. “This has got nothing to do with the department.”
“Does he remember that it was you and me who put his brother in jail?”
“He remembers.”
“Now you’re his bagman?”
“Personal representative.”
“So now what?” Murphy said. “You’ve got to deliver the cash to him before the storm hits.”
Gaudet shook his head and smiled. “I told you this was bigger than you could imagine.” He gave the briefcase a shake. “This isn’t for the mayor. This is my cut.”
“Katrina money?”
Gaudet nodded.
Now Murphy understood.
The federal government was pouring billions- tens of billions-of dollars into New Orleans with no oversight whatsoever, attempting to make up for its slow response to the disaster and trying to erase the television images of thousands of Americans, mostly poor, mostly black, stranded on rooftops and bridges, broiling in the summer sun with no food or water.
Federal agencies like FEMA and the Corps of Engineers were handing that money directly to the city. It was the perfect setup for the biggest swindle in American history.
“Juan, listen to me. I can help you get clear of this. We can go to the U.S. attorney together. We can say we’ve been working an undercover corruption investigation. We didn’t tell our supervisors because we didn’t know how far the corruption went. We can put the mayor in prison. You’ll come out of this smelling like a rose, probably with a promotion.”
“You couldn’t put the mayor’s brother in prison, and you caught him red-handed holding a kilo of cocaine. What makes you think you can put the man himself in prison?”
“I’ll find a way.”
“If you get crossways with the mayor again, he’ll put you down for good this time.”
“What you’re doing is wrong.”
“No one is complaining, Murphy. It’s not like these contractors are victims of a crime. They’re getting hundreds of millions of dollars of government money. You think they care if they have to kick back a half million here, a half million there?”
Murphy felt his face flush with anger. “I’ll take you down with him if I have to.”
