“I was otherwise occupied last night,” I said.
“A sleepover, huh?” he grinned. “Good for you, JB.”
“Exactly,” I said. “What’s the Monster?”
“Oh, that’s what we call the main computer at the lab. Sometimes, the folks at NASA call the university to ask for some time on it.”
“How’d you come up with Legal Eagle?”
“JB, do you really want me to sit here and spout technical gobbledygook at you for the next sixty minutes, or do you wanna know what was on that disc?”
“Right,” I said. “What was on it?”
He pulled several sheets of computer paper out of his briefcase and handed them to me, along with the disc.
“Mostly numbers,” he said.
I looked at the papers, each of which had three columns of figures, along with the names of companies and corporations, none of which I recognized. There were also the names of several banks, all apparently headquartered in Switzerland or the Cayman Islands.
“Near as I can figure,” said Irv, “the numbers on the left are the annual retainers paid to Chaney and Cox by those other companies. The figures in the middle are the amounts actually charged by Chaney and Cox for services rendered that year, and I’m guessing the last column shows refund checks from Chaney and Cox to their clients.”
“Um-hmmm,” I said. “That’s about it.”
The figures in the last column on each page were all fairly sizable.
“Lotta bucks being moved around,” said Irv. “You know what, JB? I think this is some kind of major money-laundering scheme.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Know what else it is?”
“What?”
“The smoking gun.”
Chapter 44
After Irv left, I sat and looked at the computer printouts for a while. Okay, so now I had an idea, at least in part, about what was going on here. Chaney and Cox appeared to be doing some financial dry-cleaning for somebody, and my guess was that Manny was involved in some way, too. With the information on the disc, I could probably help the police build that case. The cops had the resources and the expertise to root around far deeper into this mess than I could, and they would eventually get enough evidence of wrongdoing to bring some kind of charges against Elias, et al. But what about Terry Pendleton’s murder? Would there be any evidence concerning why he was killed and by whom? I was certain that his death was hooked into the money-laundering scheme, and Manny was at the top of my list of suspects for that death, but I doubted that the district attorney would agree to go to trial based on my word alone. No, I had to figure out a way to get more evidence, something that would directly link Elias and Manny to Terry’s death.
It was almost dinnertime, so I got up and walked into my kitchen. I can think in there, too. In fact, over the years, some of my best thinking has been done in close proximity to various foodstuffs. As I prepared a chipped-ham sandwich with lettuce and tomato and mayonnaise, I decided to stir things up a little. I took my sandwich and some chips and Coke back to the living room and sat down again on the sofa. While I ate, I thought some more, and when I had finished my dinner, I started the stirring process by calling Elias at his home number. A woman whom I took to be his wife answered the phone and said Elias would be right there. When he came on, I didn’t waste any time.
“Elias, this is Jeremy Barnes. I need to speak to Manny, and I’m betting that you can get in touch with him.”
“Manny?” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t know any Manny.”
“Yeah,” I said, “you do. Look, I don’t have time to play around here, but do you know what I do have? A disc full of very interesting numbers, and if I don’t hear from Manny on my cell phone within one hour, the disc goes to the cops. Oh, and Elias, be sure you tell Manny that I’m not going to be at my place, so there’s no need for him to pay me a visit. Sixty minutes, Elias. Don’t screw around here, okay?”
I gave him my cell phone number and then sat back and waited for Manny to call. I wasn’t going to leave my townhouse, because I assumed Manny would believe the lie about my not being there. When he called, I had a couple of ideas about ways to get him into situations where I could trick him into revealing the information I needed. By the time the hour was up, I had decided on one particular scenario that seemed promising. I’d need Denny’s help, though, but before I could place the call, my cell phone rang.
It was Rachel Pendleton, and she was terrified.
“Jeremy,” she said. “This is Rachel Pendleton. A man just came to my house, and when I opened the door, he put a gun in my face and told me to call you. He says he’ll kill me if I don’t do as he says.”
Damn! I’d made sure that Dee-Dee was safe, but I hadn’t thought about Rachel. I’d assumed that since I’d told Elias that Rachel had neither the disc nor any idea what was on it, she’d be okay. But I hadn’t factored Manny into the equation. He didn’t care about whether Rachel knew anything about the disc. He wanted me, and he didn’t know where I was, and he didn’t want to waste time looking for me. So he snatched Rachel, because he saw her as a way to get me to go to him. And he was
