I essentially parroted Lilly’s description of the Treasury Department memo that the same thug had shoved in front of her face to refute her professed ignorance about Cushman. “Apparently someone inside Treasury has determined that the most promising lead on the location of the proceeds from the Cushman fraud is Lilly’s connection to Gerry Collins.”
“Who in Treasury?”
“I don’t have a name. Surely the memo isn’t news to you.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
I had expected the leak to surprise her; I had not expected any show of surprise as to the memo’s existence. “I find that hard to believe,” I said.
“Why would I lie?”
It was a question with many answers, but this wasn’t the first time I’d heard her complain about the lack of interagency cooperation. Still, I wasn’t sure I believed her.
“Let’s talk logistics for a minute,” I said. “Lilly and I have gotten death threats, and now the bank has its eye on me. This changes the game.”
“You’re in the business of making deals, Patrick. Changes in the game don’t change the deal.”
“Deals are rewritten all the time.”
“I’m not particularly motivated to rewrite this one.”
That was a fair point, but I didn’t belong on Wall Street if I couldn’t find some incentive. Fortunately, I had a few cards to play.
“I went to Central Prison this morning,” I said.
She glanced my way and folded her arms tightly. It was getting colder by the minute, and so was her tone. “That is a complete violation of our agreement. Tony Martin is off limits.”
“Technically, you’re right. But as of yesterday I got tired of playing by your rules.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to hop on an airplane and visit Tony Martin in violation of our agreement. Unless you have my direct authorization, anytime you contact anyone who had anything to do with Abe Cushman and Gerry Collins, you compromise the assignment. For obvious reasons, Tony Martin is absolutely out of bounds.”
I ignored the reprimand. “The warden told me that he passed away last night. My money says he’s still alive.”
“I can’t discuss that, Patrick.”
“You relocated him for protection, didn’t you? Created a phony death certificate for Tony Martin, may he rest in peace, and gave him another name?”
“Like I said: I can’t discuss it.”
“We need to talk about it,” I said. “I went to Raleigh because I’m more convinced than ever that the wrong man is sitting in jail for the murder of Gerry Collins.”
“Who put that idea in your head? Lilly?”
“I have a right to know the truth.”
“Your job is to investigate Lilly Scanlon. So far, she has managed to take you completely off your assignment, first by sleeping with you, and now by putting ideas in your head that the wrong man is sitting in jail.”
“What you just said is so inaccurate that you should have Tweeted it. My decision to go to Raleigh was my own.”
Her legs were shaking up and down-anything to stay warm-and watching her was enough to make me shiver.
“Okay,” she said, “I can’t discuss this with you, so we’re not discussing it. But if Tony Martin was innocent, then why did he plead guilty?”
“False confessions are more common than you folks in law enforcement like to admit.”
“Sure, it happens,” said Andie, “but in every case of false confession that I’m aware of, the prisoner later recanted his confession. Tony has never recanted his. In fact, if you were to ask him today, he’d tell you he killed Gerry Collins. Why do you suppose that is, Patrick?”
“I don’t know. But if you’re not willing to help me find out, maybe Lilly will.”
“Stop thinking of her as your ally. And stop playing homicide detective. Your theory makes no sense anyway. He pleaded guilty to murder and accepted a life sentence. How is that better than having it exposed that his name is really Tony Mandretti?”
“Being Tony Mandretti is a ticket to a slow, painful death. Especially when you have cancer and don’t have the energy to run. Spending the rest of your life in prison as Tony Martin and getting decent health care in your dying days is much preferable.”
“Tony Martin killed Gerry Collins. He lost his entire life savings in the Cushman fraud. His fingerprints were found in Gerry Collins’ car. He confessed to the crime. That’s why he copped a plea.”
“If the killer had simply pumped a bullet into the back of Collins’ head, your basic mob-style execution, maybe I’d be less skeptical. But Gerry Collins was murdered in a pretty unusual way, wouldn’t you say? Wire saw. Cuts through flesh and bone like they’re cardboard.”
“I’d call it mob-style strangulation with an exclamation point.”
“I call it an extremely personal killing. Lots of anger toward the victim. Not a clean hit.”
Her expression tightened. “I believe this non-discussion has gone far enough.”
I wasn’t completely convinced that Lilly was right, but it seemed worthwhile to test her theory. “A guy told me I’d end up like Gerry Collins if he didn’t get his money. Why would he do that, unless he killed Collins?”
“What happened to you is nothing like the murder of Gerry Collins. A gun to the back of the head is not this killer’s style.”
“And why would you be talking about a ‘style,’ unless the killer has the ability to strike again?”
“You’re fishing,” she said.
“Sometimes fishermen actually catch fish. The fact remains that my attacker threatened that I would end up like Collins.”
“Copycats are everywhere.”
“Maybe. But let me put it to you this way: suppose I report this incident to the police.”
“You’ve reported it to me. That’s enough. You know you can’t go to the police.”
I smiled thinly, knowing that I’d found her motivation to renegotiate our deal. “A full police report would surely trigger leaks to the press about the bank’s possible link to Abe Cushman. Leaks to the press would mean that my work inside BOS would be over. Very bad for you and the FBI, no?”
“Yes. That would be bad.”
“I’m so glad we’ve agreed to renegotiate.”
She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t seem too resentful of the angle I’d worked. She may have even respected it. “What are you proposing?”
“I’ll stay on mission. But I want more protection. And I want protection for Lilly, too.”
She scoffed so hard her breath steamed. “Lilly’s the target.”
“It’s time to change the target. Collins used her. She’s a pawn in this.”
“You fell into bed with her. If you were an undercover FBI agent, you would have been fired long ago.”
“We’ve already covered that ground, and I believe the bottom line is that I’m all you’ve got. Which puts me in the driver’s seat. So here’s the deal: I’ll do what I can to help you and the FBI save face. One thing we know for certain is that Treasury isn’t copying you on its internal memos. Assuming I don’t get fired, I’ll stay at BOS and help you gain back whatever ground the FBI has lost to Treasury in the great interagency race to unravel Cushman’s scheme and be the first ‘on the money,’ so to speak.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Stop. I’m only going to say this once. I’ll also keep quiet about the threat I got in Times Square so that you and I don’t have to waste all our time avoiding calls from the media.”
“What’s the catch?”
“I want two things. One: I want the FBI to help figure out who threatened me.”
“Fine.”
“I don’t mean some abstract promise that law enforcement is doing everything it can. I want to be kept informed by
