63
I drove straight from the courthouse to the FBI field office. All along I’d felt that if I had a friend at the FBI, it was Agent Nettles, the first agent who’d visited my mother after the kidnapping. Maybe I was kidding myself, maybe I just wanted to prove to the FBI that my family wasn’t at all the way Agent Huitt had painted us. Whatever it was, I called Nettles on his cell phone to give him an inkling of my discovery.
Less than a minute after my arrival, Nettles and I were in the office of Raul Carreras, the assistant special agent in charge, the second-highest-ranking agent in the office. I had the distinct feeling that my case had been assigned a new level of priority. They listened, took notes, sipped coffee from big blue mugs emblazoned with the FBI shield. When I’d finished, the men exchanged glances.
Agent Carreras looked at me and said, “Explain to me again how Mr. Ochoa came to tell you all this.”
It made me nervous, that being the first question. “Like I said, I threatened to go to the state attorney. He pulled a knife. There was a skirmish and. . well, I sort of forced it out of him.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean ‘forced’?”
“In the fight he broke his wrist.”
“And then what? You threatened to break his other one if he didn’t talk?”
“No. The wrist got caught up in the garbage disposal.”
Carreras leaned back, stroking his mustache. “I’m having trouble visualizing. How does that happen?”
“I sort of forced it in.”
“Did you turn it on?” he asked, grimacing.
I felt as if I were shrinking before their eyes. This was the cross-examination I’d feared, the reason I couldn’t possibly have called Ochoa as a witness in my hearing. “I only threatened to turn it on.”
Once again they exchanged glances. “I see,” said Nettles.
Carreras leaned forward, elbows atop his desk. “Let me get this straight. Your evidence so far comes from a fired employee who promised to say bad things about his former employer if you would pay him fifty thousand dollars, and who ultimately ended up spilling his guts after you threatened to make his left hand suitable for Hamburger Helper.”
“I’m not proud of the way this came to light. But it’s not a case of a disgruntled former employee making up horrible stories about the company that fired him.”
Nettles put his notepad aside and said, “We’ll check it out.”
“You
“I said we would. We will.”
“I’m not hearing much conviction in your voice.”
“My apologies.”
I came to the edge of my seat, moved by anger. “The FBI needs to understand, I took a million and a half dollars less in settlement money from these bastards so that I’d be free to talk to you. They were willing to pay me three million dollars to keep my mouth shut. Doesn’t that tell you something? Every minute you delay gives them another minute to pressure Ochoa into shutting
Carreras rose and extended his hand. “Thanks very much for the information. We’ll take it from here.”
We shook hands. “I’d like to know what happens. Will you keep me posted?”
“As best we can.”
Nettles led me out of the office, down the hall, to the lobby. The elevator doors opened. He thanked me once more as I stepped inside. I stopped the doors from closing and said, “Please, you need to follow through on this.”
“Like we said, we’ll take it from here.”
“You know, I wasn’t kidding about what I said in there. It cost me a million and a half dollars to come here and talk to you. I wish I could say it felt worth it.”
He said nothing as I allowed the elevator doors to close between us.
Mom had Jenna and me over for dinner. We ate outside at the round, glass-topped patio table by the pool. It had been intended as a celebration dinner of sorts, but no one was fooled into thinking it was time to celebrate yet. I wasn’t sure what the FBI was up to, but I would have liked more assurances on the follow-through, just for the sake of the other policyholders who were potentially at risk.
We did have our money. The funds had been wired directly to the same Bogota account we’d used for the last trip. Alex and I would withdraw the cash when we got there, and she’d again work her black market contacts to convert pesos to dollars. Funny, only a month ago the mere mention of a currency black market would have made me suspicious, but I now realized that it was just a fact of life in Colombia, and not just for the kidnapping trade. Thank goodness I had Alex, who was savvy enough to watch out for counterfeiters.
By eight o’clock Mom was finished with dinner and fed up with mosquitoes. She went inside. Jenna and I lit up a citronella candle and watched the moon rise.
“Thought any more about Duncan?” she asked.
“Only constantly.”
“Still think he’s ‘A Friend’?”
“It’s hard to imagine any lawyer doing that. Ethically you can’t betray your own client, no matter how despicable they might be.”
“A lawyer doesn’t have to help a client commit murder. If those kidnappers kill your father, the blood is on the hands of the insurance company, if you ask me. Maybe Duncan sees it the same way.”
“Maybe.”
She sipped her chardonnay. “You think one and a half million will get your dad home?”
“Alex is pretty nervous.”
“I didn’t ask what Alex thought. What do you think?”
“If Alex is nervous, I’m nervous.”
The sliding glass door opened behind us. I turned and saw Mom coming toward us, her head down.
“What’s wrong?” I asked with concern.
She stopped at the edge of the swimming pool, then looked at me and said, “Guillermo said no.”
“What?”
“I called him to ask if he could loan us the other half of the ransom demand.” She was staring past me, a vague expression in her eyes. “Said he just can’t do it.”
Without another word, she retreated into the house.
Jenna said, “I’m sorry, Nick.”
“I expected that. Guillermo’s own wife told me he was a cheapskate.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“The only thing we can do. We’re going to get my father home for a million and a half.”
She refilled her wineglass, no response.
I looked away, shaking my head. “This makes me sick.”
“What?”
“Here I am, worrying that I settled too cheap. Somewhere across town, I bet Maggie and Duncan are out celebrating this very minute. Another success story. Damage under control.”
“So you don’t think Duncan had his epiphany in the end?”
“That note he slipped me could have come from the heart or it could have been pure showmanship. You just never know with Duncan.”
“If you’re having doubts, you should follow your gut instinct.”
“My gut tells me that someone needs to be punished for this.”
“That’s up to the FBI now.”
“I just didn’t get the feeling that they’re going to run with it.”
“Then before you go to Bogota, call the state attorney.”
