“Not if you refer them.”
Breach threw his head back and laughed. “That’s why you’re my favorite mouthpiece. No bullshit. So, what can I do for you?”
“Our client is homeless. He used to box professionally, and he was approached by a person who was recruiting people who are down on their luck to participate in an illegal, no-holds-barred fight on a farm. Joe killed his opponent, and the people who ran the fight blackmailed him into breaking into Judge Carasco’s house. He was told that he was supposed to steal something, but he found Mrs. Carasco beaten to death when he got inside.
“The body of Carlos Ortega, the man Joe fought, was found in a vacant lot. He’d been beaten to death. Joe wore hand wraps during the illegal fight. The police found them in the garbage at the Carascos’ house. Mrs. Carasco’s blood was on the wraps along with Ortega’s. Joe swears that the man who ran the fight kept his hand wraps. We think this man was behind the murder of Mrs. Carasco and set up Joe to take the fall, but we have no idea who he is or who runs the fights. If you know who they are, it would really help if you clued us in.”
Breach was quiet for a while, and Amanda let him think.
“How sure are you that your guy didn’t kill Carasco’s lady?” Breach asked.
“Knowing what we know, I’d vote not guilty if I were on his jury,” Amanda told Breach.
“That’s good enough for me, so I’m gonna tell you something, but it can’t get back to me.”
“Of course,” Amanda said.
“A guy named Kevin Bash runs the fights, but there’s someone behind him fronting the money and taking a cut. I don’t know who that is, and I’ve never been interested enough to find out.”
“Do you know where these fights are held?” Amanda asked.
“Last I heard, there’s a farm out in Washington County.”
“What can you tell me about Bash?”
“Not much. He has a Mercedes dealership in Hillsboro. It may be legit, or he may be laundering profits through it from the fights, backroom poker games, bookmaking, and some prostitution.”
Amanda knew that Breach usually had a finger in any illegal enterprise in Oregon.
“You let him run this stuff?” she asked.
“He’s too small to interest me, but I have people who keep an eye on him. I don’t know much more, but I have ways of finding out when the next fight is going to be held and where they’re holding it. The only problem for you is that the guest list is invitation only, so they can keep out undercover cops.”
“Can you get us an invite?” Amanda asked.
“I can try, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Our client told us that he was recruited,” Robin said. “Do you know how they go about finding the fighters?”
“The fighters are usually street people, homeless. Bash has people in the tent cities and people who look for fresh meat downtown or other places where the homeless hang out.”
“Do you know any of these recruiters?” Robin asked.
“Why?”
“If we can’t get invited to the next fight as a guest, maybe you can get one of the recruiters to get me in as a contestant.”
Amanda’s features darkened, but Robin didn’t notice how upset her suggestion had made her friend.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she cautioned Robin. Then she turned to Breach. “Thanks for the info, Martin.”
“It’s always a pleasure to see you. And say hi to Frank.”
“Will do.”
Breach opened a humidor that sat on a corner of his desk and took out two hand-wrapped cigars.
“Give these to your dad. They’re Cuban. Totally illegal. He’ll love them.”
Amanda turned her back on Robin as soon as they left Breach’s office and stalked out of the club at a brisk pace. Robin could see that her friend was angry, but she had no idea what she could have done to upset her.
“Wait up,” she said when Amanda walked to her car.
Amanda didn’t answer her and slammed her door when she was behind the wheel. Then she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
Robin looked puzzled. “What’s got you so upset?”
“Didn’t I tell you to let me run the meeting?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“You have no idea what you did in there,” Amanda said.
“I don’t understand.”
“Martin Breach has no boundaries. He is the most dangerous man in this city. When you asked Martin to find a recruiter so you could infiltrate the fights, you were asking him for a favor. You never, ever want to owe Martin Breach, because he will call in the debt, and that is never a good thing.”
“You asked Breach for help.”
Amanda sighed. “Martin and I have a very complicated relationship. My dad and I have helped him and Art Prochaska, Martin’s only real friend, on a few occasions, and he’s returned the favor by literally saving my life more than once. Sometimes I think he sees me as his daughter. But even with all that, I stay clear of Martin unless it’s absolutely necessary. Saving Joe Lattimore’s life is in that category.
“And there’s another thing,” Amanda continued. “This idea of being a contestant in these illegal fights is nuts.”
“The women I fight will be out-of-shape amateurs. I won’t be in any danger.”
“You’re forgetting something, Robin. You’re famous. Martin knew who you were as soon as you walked into his office, and someone at these fights will recognize you. Once they figure out who you are, they’ll know you represent Joe. If they beat Betsy Carasco to death, what do you think they’ll do to you?”
“I may be a blonde, Amanda, but I’m not completely ditzy. This was just an idea. And if I decide to fight, I’ll dye my hair and make myself look homeless. But I don’t think it will get that far. Once we know where the fight is, we’ll call the cops and have it raided.”
“I want you to forget about going undercover. This isn’t a movie. What do you think Jeff would say if he heard
