The Collectors

“But this money is all electronic. Why do you have to launder it?”

“Even digital dollars can be traced, Jerry. In fact, they can do it more easily than with real cash. The funds need to be commingled with other sources of money that are nongovernmental. It all gets washed out electronically, sort of like wiping fingerprints off a gun. Then the funds can go to where they’re needed.”

“And you say Vegas already does this? So if I call up and ask—”

She interrupted him. “They’ll tell you nothing because that’s what they’ve been instructed to do.” She rose and stood beside him. “There’s tremendous upside for you here, Jerry, but there’s a downside too. And let me just lay that out for you. It’s only fair that you know.”

She led him back to the couch. “If it ever comes to certain people’s attention that you’ve told anyone about this arrangement—”

Bagger laughed. “Don’t threaten me, little girl. I invented the art of intimidation.”

“This isn’t intimidation, Jerry,” she said quietly, her gaze directly on him. “If you tell anyone about this arrangement, men will come for you wherever you might be. These men will have no fear of anyone you could possibly hire to protect you. They are not bound by the laws of any country, and they will kill anyone remotely close to you, man, woman or child. Then they’ll take you away.” She paused to let this sink in. “I’ve been in the business a long time, and done some things that would probably surprise even you, but these are men I would never want to face, even with a squad of Navy SEALs surrounding me. They aren’t the best of the best, Jerry. They are the worst of the absolute scum. And your last memory will be how could it have hurt so damn much.”

Bagger exploded, “These whack jobs are on our government’s payroll! No wonder we’re so screwed up.” When he took a sip of his bourbon, both Annabelle and Leo noted that his hand shook a bit. “So why the hell would I—” Bagger began.

Anticipating what he was going to say, she cut in. “But as I told my superiors, Jerry Bagger won’t talk. He’ll just collect his exorbitant profits and keep his mouth shut. I don’t throw darts at names on a wall, Jerry. Guys like you are ideal for our purposes. You’ve got brains, guts, money, and you don’t mind playing close to the edge.” She studied Bagger closely and added, “I’d hate to give the action to one of the other casinos, Jerry, but my mission is clear.”

After another minute he grinned and patted her leg. “I’m as patriotic as the next son of a bitch. So what the hell, let’s do it.”

CHAPTER 21

THE CAMEL CLUB HELD A hastily called meeting at Stone’s cottage at the cemetery the morning following their visit to DeHaven’s home. Stone explained to Milton and Caleb in greater detail what had happened the night before.

“They could be watching us right now,” a frightened Caleb said as he glanced out the window.

“I would be astonished if they weren’t,” Stone replied calmly.

His cottage was small and sparsely furnished: an old bed, a large, beaten-up desk covered with papers and journals, shelves of books in various languages, all of which Stone spoke, a small kitchen with a battered table, a tiny bathroom and a scattering of mismatched chairs arranged around the large fireplace that was the cottage’s main source of heat.

“And that doesn’t concern you?” Milton asked.

“It would have concerned me much more had they tried to kill me, which they easily could have despite Reuben’s heroics.”

“So what now?” Reuben asked. He stood in front of the fireplace, trying to work the chill off. He checked his watch. “I need to get to work.”

Caleb added, “So do I.”

Stone said, “Caleb, I need to get inside the vault at the library. Is that possible?”

Caleb looked uncertain. “Well, under normal conditions it would be. I mean, I have the authority to take people into the vaults, but I’ll be questioned as to why. They don’t really like people just bringing in friends and family without advance notice. And with Jonathan’s death restrictions are even tighter.”

“What if the visitor was a scholar from overseas?” Stone asked.

“Well, of course, that’s different.” He glanced at Stone. “What foreign scholar do you know?”

Reuben broke in. “I think he’s talking about himself, Caleb.”

Caleb looked sternly at his friend. “Oliver! I cannot possibly assist in perpetrating a fraud on the Library of Congress, for God’s sake.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I believe we are now the targets of some very dangerous people because we’re involved with Jonathan DeHaven. So we need to find out whether his death was natural or not. And looking at the place where he died may help me determine that.”

“Well, we know how he died,” Caleb countered. The others looked at him in surprise. “I just found out this morning,” he said quickly. “A friend from the library called me at home. Jonathan died as the result of cardiopulmonary arrest, that’s what the autopsy reported.”

Milton said, “That’s what everybody dies of. It just means your heart stopped.”

Stone looked thoughtful. “Milton’s right. And that also means the medical examiner doesn’t know what actually killed DeHaven.” He stood and looked down at Caleb. “I want to go into the vault this morning.”

“Oliver, you can’t just show up unannounced as some scholar.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just not done. There are protocols, procedures to follow.”

“I’ll say I was in town for a visit with family and wanted very much to see the world’s greatest collection of books; a spur-of-the-moment thing.”