He revealed the approach first made to him in Drummonburg Penitentiary by the emissary from Mafia Row The message relayed to Miles Eastin, he told Wainwright, had originated with the outside loan shark, Igor (the Russian) Ominsky and was to the effect that he, Eastin, was a 'stand-up guy' because he had not disclosed the identity of the shark or the bookmaker at the time of his arrest or afterward. As a concession, interest on Eastin's loan would be waived during his time in prison. 'Mafia Row's messenger boy said that Orninsky stopped the clock while I was inside.'
'But you're not inside now,' Wainwright pointed out. 'So the clock is running again.'
Miles looked worried. 'Yes, I know.' He had realized that, and tried not to think about it while he searched for work. He had also stayed away from the location he had been told of where he could make contact with the loan shark Ominsky and others. It was the Double-Seven Health Club near the city's center, and the information had been passed to him a few days before leaving prison. He repeated it now under Wainwright's probing
'Figures. I don't know the Double-Seven,' the bank security chief mused, 'but I've heard of it. It has the reputation of being a mob hangout.'
The other thing Miles had been told at Drummonburg was that there would be ways for him, through contacts he would make, to earn money to live and begin paying off his debt. He had not needed a diagram to know that such 'ways' would be outside the law. That knowledge, and his dread of a return to prison, had kept him resolutely removed from the Double-Seven. So far.
'My hunch was right then. You would have gone there from here.'
'Oh, God, Mr. Wainwright, I didn't want to! I still don't.' 'Maybe, between us, you can cut it both ways.' 'How?' 'You've heard of an undercover agent?' Miles Eastin looked surprised before admitting, 'Yes.. '”Then listen carefully.' Wainwright began talk ng.
Pour months earlier, when the bank security chief viewed the drowned and mutilated body of his informer, Vic, he had doubted if he would send anyone undercover again. At that moment, shocked and with a sense of personal guilt, he had meant what he said and had done nothing since to recruit a replacement. But this opportunity Eastin's desperation and ready-made connections was too promising to be ignored.
Equally to the point: More and more counterfeit Keycharge credit cards were appearing, in what seemed a deluge, while their source remained unknown. Conventional methods of locating the producers and distributors had failed, as Wainwright knew; also hampering investigation was the fact that credit-card counterfeiting, under federal law, was not a criminal offense. Fraud had to be proven; intention to defraud was not enough. For all these reasons, law-enforcement agencies were more interested in other forms of counterfeiting, so their concern with credit cards was only incidental. Banks to the chagrin of professionals like Nolan Wainwright had made no serious effort to get this situation changed.
Most of this, the bank security chief explained at length to Miles Eastin. He also unfolded a basically simple plan. Miles would go to the Double-Seven Health Club, making such contacts as he could. He would try to ingratiate himself, and would also take whatever opportunities occurred to earn some money.
'Doing that will mean a risk two ways, and you'll have to realize it,' Wainwright said. 'If you do something criminal and get caught, you'll be arrested, tried, and no one else can help you. The other risk is, even if you don't get caught and the parole board hears rumors, that'll put you back in prison just as surely.'
However, Wainwright continued, if neither mischance happened,, Miles should try to widen his contacts, listening hard and accumulating information. At first, he should be wary of appearing curious. 'You'd take it easy,' Wainwright cautioned. 'Don't hurry, be patient. Let word get around; let people come to you.'
Only after Miles was accepted, would he work harder at learning more. At that time he could begin discreet inquiries about fake credit cards, exhibiting an interest for himself and seeking to move closer to wherever they were traded. 'There's always somebody,' Wainwright advised, 'who knows somebody else, who knows some other guy who has a rumble of some action. That's the way you'd weasel in.'
Periodically, Wainwright said, Eastin would report to him. Though never directly.
The mention of reporting was a reminder to Wainwright of his obligation to explain about Vic. He did so bluntly, omitting no details. As he spoke, he saw Miles Eastin go pale and remembered the night in Eastin's apartment, the time of the confrontation and exposure, when the younger man's instinctive fear of physical violence showed so clearly.
'Whatever happens,' Wainwright said sternly, 'I don't want you to say or think, later on, that I didn't warn you of the dangers.' He paused, considering. 'Now, about money.'
If Miles agreed to go undercover on the bank's behalf, the security chief stated, he would guarantee a payment of five hundred dollars a month until one way or another the assignment ended. The money would be paid through an intermediary.
'Would I be employed by the bank?'
'Absolutely no.'
The answer was unequivocal, emphatic, final. Wainwright elaborated: Involvement of the bank officially would be nil. If Miles Eastin agreed to assume the role suggested, he would be entirely on his own. If he ran into trouble and tried to implicate First Mercantile American, he would be disowned and disbelieved. 'Since you were convicted and went to jail,' Wainwright declared,
'we never even heard of you.'
Miles grimaced. 'It's one-sided.'
'Damn rightl But remember this: You came here. I didn't come to you. So what's your answer yes or no?'
'If you were me, which would it be?'
'I'm not you, nor likely to be. But I'll tell you how I see it. The way things are, you don't have many choices.'
For a moment the old Miles Eastin humor and good nature flashed. 'Heads I lose; tails I lose. I guess I hit the loser's jackpot. Let me ask one thing more,'
'What?'
'If it all works out, if I get if you get the evidence you need, afterward will you help me find a job at FMA?'
'I can't promise that. I already said I didn't write the rules.'
'But you've influence to bend them.'
Wainwright considered before answering. He thought:
If it came to it, he could go to Alex Vandervoort and present a case on behalf of Eastin. Success would be worth it. He said aloud, 'I'll try. But that's all I promise.'
'You're a hard man,' Miles Eastin said. 'All right, I'll do it.' They discussed an intermediary.
'After today,' Wainwright warned, 'you and I won't meet again directly. It's too dangerous; either one of us may be watched. What we need is someone who can be a conduit for messages both ways and money; someone whom we both trust totally.'
Miles said slowly, 'There's Juanita Nunez. If she'd do it.'
Wainwright looked incredulous. 'The teller who you…
'Yes. But she forgave me.' There was a mixture of elation and excitement in his voice. 'I went to see her and Heaven bless her, she forgave met' 'I'll be damned.'
'You ask her,' Miles Eastin said. 'There's not a single reason why she should agree. But I think… just think, she might.'
5
How sound was Lewis D'Orsey's instinct about Supranational Corporation? How sound was Supranational? That worry continued to vex Alex Vandervoort.
It was on Saturday night that Alex and Lewis had talked about SuNatCo. Over what remained of the weekend, Alex pondered The D'Orsey Newsletter recommendation to sell Supernational shares at whatever the market would pay and Lewis's doubts about the conglomerate's solidity.
The entire subject was exceedingly important, even vital, to the bank. Yet it could be a delicate situation in which, Alex realized, he would need to move cautiously.
For one thing, Supranational was now a major client and any client would be righteously indignant if its own bankers circulated adverse rumors about it, particularly if false. And Alex had no illusions: Once he began asking questions widely, word of them, and their source, would travel fast.
