Visions of Liberty

at the table.

“Ray, Joe, I’d like you to meet Noni Brooks. Noni, this is Ray Black and Joe Herrera. They head San Francisco Investigations.”

“Good,” she said. I presumed our reputation had preceded us. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Noni’s from Berkshire Re,” Fritz explained. “They have—potentially—a large interest in this case.”

“The violent death cover?” Joe asked. Noni and Fritz both nodded.

Noni Brooks certainly didn’t waste any time. “The question is: can you find Gerald Murdock?” But her look seemed to say, Ifyou can’t, we’ll get someone who can.

Berkshire Re is the biggest—and smartest—insurance outfit in the world. They obviously wanted Murdock and his money found. And they don’t take “impossible” as an answer.

“What’s the budget?” asked Joe.

“Five hundred ounces,” said Noni.

“To start with,” added Fritz.

“You’re assuming Wainwright will find him guilty,” I said.

“No,” said Noni, “we’re not assuming that. Though we expect he will.” She looked at her watch. “Judge Wainwright will give his decision three and a half hours from now. If we just sit around and wait till then and the verdict is guilty, that’s three and a half hours we’ve lost.

“Do I need to point out the obvious? It’s Friday already, and this man is going to be very hard to find.

His trail’s getting colder by the minute. One extra hour could be the difference between success and failure.”

What about the five days we’ve already lost? I thought to myself. But I said, “If anyone can find him, we can.” Joe nodded his agreement.

“As far as you’re concerned,” said Fritz, “Wainwright has already pronounced him guilty. We’ll call you when he announces his decision but we want you to be ready to move the moment he does.”

“GMR Holdings,” said Joe.

“That’s right,” said Fritz. “Follow the money. We’ve got all the papers ready: five minutes after Wainwright rules we’ll be in possession of the company. Then we have to get Murdock’s secretary out of the office and see what she’s left for us to find.”

“I want to see the bank records,” I said. “Murdock disappeared at Union Square Saturday night. Like the Invisible Man. Feels like we’ve been hitting our heads against a brick wall ever since.”

“That’s exactly the point,” said Fritz. “Somewhere in the company’s records should be a warm trail to follow. At least a lead, a hint of some kind.”

“Looks like our only bet,” said Joe.

Noni Brooks shook her head. “There’ll be a reward. One thousand ounces for information that leads us to Murdock.”

“Who’ll screen the replies?” asked Joe.

“We want you to do that. You’re the experts,” said Fritz.

“That’ll cost extra,” said Joe. “Murdock will be ‘seen’ all over the world.”

“We only need one.”

“Yeah. But figuring which is the right one will cost a fortune.”

Fritz turned to Noni, who nodded her head.

“Okay,” he said. “We’re also going after the money Murdock skimmed from the joint venture companies. We’re claiming Murdock broke the partnership agreements which would make it theft.”

“But I thought he had the right to withdraw that money,” I said.

“He had the right to spend the money on joint venture business. Not to pay himself without Ackerman’s agreement. Anyway, we’ll have a judgment in a day or three. If the judge rules against Murdock, he’ll be guilty of theft as well as murder.”

“Good,” said Joe.

Everybody turned to look at him. “Why?” someone asked.

“Never mind now,” said Fritz. “It’s time we got moving.”

“Who’s handing things on your end?” Joe asked.

“Tony Ramirez. He’s expecting your call.”

“What I want to know,” said Joe, to no one in particular, “is why did he do it? What’s his motive?”

* * *

“Greed or lust,” said Joe as we walked out onto Geary.

“What about revenge?”

Joe shook his head. “Doesn’t figure.”

“Hang on a minute,” said Joe. He stepped into the tobacco store we’d just passed.

“Heavens above,” he said, jogging up to where I’d stopped. He stared at his phone in one hand and a packet of Maui Wowie Lights in the other. “They’ve gone down in price again!”

I jangled the coins in my pocket. Joe never carried any, always paying by phone. Call me weird if you like, but I enjoy the feel, the weight of gold and silver.

“So what’s new?” I asked.

“They dropped last month, and they’re down again already.”

Thinking of our payroll I said, “Wish salaries went down like everything else.”

“Yeah,” he grunted.

“So what do you want with them?” I asked him.

“Added inspiration.” “I’m inspired enough already.”

“I saidadded inspiration, you dummy. I want to watch the holo. There’s bound to be something, something somebody said or did, that will give us a clue.”

* * *

The rest of the morning disappeared in a blaze of activity. But at two o’clock we were ready. At 2:05 Wainwright announced his decision: Guilty. At 2:10 one team from All-Risk, along with some of our operatives, moved into Murdock’s office. A second team went to the Bank of San Francisco. At 2:15 they zapped us the account records of GMR Holdings.

“What’s the time in Switzerland?” asked Joe as the records scrolled across the screen.

I thought for a minute. “Bedtime, I’d say.”

“Damn. Bet Swiss banks aren’t open Saturdays, either.” Joe pointed at the screen. “I don’t like the look of that.” His fingers danced over the keyboard and the screen split into half a dozen different displays.

“See,” he said. “All the money was sent to Swiss banks. All these transfers—” all but one of the displays lit up “—went to three different Swiss banks. Union Bank, Credit Suisse, Bank Leu. All big names.”

“We should get some cooperation out of them. What’s the problem?”

Joe punched a button on the keyboard and the display that hadn’t been highlighted filled the screen.

“Right there. That wire went Saturday. Anstalt Bank. Where the hell is Vaduz, anyway?” He highlighted the bank’s name and an information screen appeared. “Vaduz, Liechtenstein. Oh hell.”

“Liechtenstein,” I murmured. “So how do we stand with them?”

“Those guys in Liechtenstein don’t say ‘boo’ to their own mothers. Let’s see. Court order required,” he read from a new display. “Hmmm. To get that, the whole case has to be retried in Vaduz. Witnesses. Everything. God knows how long that would take—years possibly. They don’t recognize our adjudication process.”

“Anyway,” I said, “what’s the bet all the money is some other place.”

“Ha. Want me to take the wrong side of a sure thing?

The phone rang and a message blinked on the screen that Tony Ramirez was calling. “Good,” said Joe as he pushed the Accept button. Tony’s face appeared on the screen.

“Seen the bank records?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Joe. “Liechtenstein.”

“And Switzerland, which is a bit more cooperative. Monday, we’ll be filing cases in both places.”

“So what are the chances of getting any information?” I asked.

“Not good,” said Ramirez. “Better, though, when we get a ruling that Murdock stole the money from the joint