“They’re very well connected,” Grant said.
“With whom?”
“You name it-if it’s a criminal organization, they’re plugged into it.”
“What sort of activities?”
“Whatever turns a million bucks-prostitution, gambling.”
“Prostitution? I thought that was a freelancer’s market these days.”
“There are some very fancy whorehouses in Miami,” Grant said. “You wouldn’t believe how fancy, and how beautiful the girls are. Or boys.”
“And the Pellegrinos are into that?”
“The Pellegrinosown that.”
“Jesus. And what sort of gambling? Bookie operations?”
“They’ve gone way beyond a bookie operation,” Grant said. “They’re on the Internet.”
“The Internet?”
“Come on, I’ll show you.” He led the way into the study and switched on his computer. He hit the Internet connection, then typed in an address. A title page came up, and there were buttons for football, baseball, golf, basketball, soccer, European soccer, South American soccer, dog racing, and horse racing. Grant clicked on one and got a display of odds on various games.
“Wow,” Holly said. “But that’s got to be illegal.”
“It is, in this country, but Pio and his pop are too sophisticated to get caught at it. The operation is based on an island in the Caribbean called Saint Marks. It’s a former British colony with very loose rules about gambling and banking.”
“How does it work?”
“Well, let’s say you want to place a fifty-dollar bet on a Yankees game. You hit the appropriate button, place a bet, give them a credit card number, and you get an on-screen receipt, which you can print out. If you win, the amount is credited to your card, and you can use it to pay down your bill, or you can take a credit refund.”
“Even if you’re in the United States?”
“Yep. You’d never be caught because there are too many people playing it, and the government doesn’t know who.”
“Can’t the Feds hack into their computer and find out who their customers are?”
“They’ve got their own computer experts working to prevent just that, but suppose we could? We couldn’t arrest everybody. What if we picked a hundred players and arrested and tried them to make an example of them? They’ve still got hundreds of thousands more playing. We couldn’t make a dent. We’ve made overtures to the government of Saint Marks, but the politicians there are well paid by the Pellegrinos, and they’re not going to cooperate.”
“What happens to the money they make? They can’t get it back into this country, can they?”
“That would be tough to do in any volume, but they own their own bank in Saint Marks, and they can wire money to any bank in the world, including ones in places with banking secrecy laws, like the Cayman Islands and Switzerland. They can launder it through dozens or hundreds of legitimate businesses. They own a resort in Saint Marks, for instance. But one of the puzzles is, exactly where is the money going? We’re working on that, but it’s a hard puzzle to break.”
“I don’t get it,” Holly said. “These guys are making all this money…”
“Hundreds of millions a year.”
“… and they’re sitting in Miami, running a restaurant?”
“That’s just cover; somebody else runs the restaurant. They live well, but not like the very rich people they are. I’d love to know where the money is going and who’s getting it.”
“And this is connected with your work in Orchid Beach?”
“No comment,” Grant said.
After they had gone to bed, Holly thought about the Pellegrinos. And she thought about Tricky’s, too, and what Grant might have been doing there. He wasn’t going to tell her, she knew, and she wasn’t going to ask. Not yet, anyway.
49
The following morning, Holly sent two officers to Sarasota in an unmarked car to bring back Marina’s car. “Just put it in the garage,” she said, giving them the address of Grant’s house, “but bring the keys back to me.”
Harry Crisp called just before lunch. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Harry,” Holly said warily.
“I’ve got some more stuff on your Russian, Bronsky, from the organized crime division of the Justice Department.”
“Oh?” Harry was going to supply information?
“He was part of the New York Russian mob, centered in Brighton Beach, in Brooklyn; nothing big, just an enforcer, and our information is, a particularly cold and cruel one, in an organization noted for its cruelty.”
Holly was immediately suspicious. “Wait a minute, Harry: He was ex-KGB, and he’s just an enforcer? That doesn’t sound right to me.”
“It’s what my people found out, Holly. I’m sorry if it doesn’t mesh with your preconceived notions about the guy.”
“Does he have any connection to the Pellegrinos, apart from his association with Trini Rodriguez?”
“Nothing we can nail down.”
“Then he’s a dead end.”
“A nice turn of phrase, in his present circumstances, but yes, his identity leads us nowhere.”
“How about some information that leads ussomewhere, Harry?”
“That’s all I’ve got, I’m afraid. I thought you’d like to know.”
“Forgive me if I seem ungrateful, Harry, but it seems like a bone for the dog. What have you found out on the Pellegrinos?”
“We’re still working on that, Holly, don’t worry.”
Yeah, sure, Holly thought. “Any news on the search for Trini?”
“He’s gone to ground, not visiting any of his usual hangouts.”
“Including the bar Tricky’s?”
“We’re looking everywhere, Holly, don’t worry.”
“Somehow, I have the idea that if Trini wanted to kill you, instead of me, you’d be looking a lot harder.”
“We have to leave that sort of pursuit to the locals and the state boys; we don’t have enough personnel to run dragnets. It’s always been that way; our people are investigators; they don’t set up roadblocks or search for hideouts.”
“Yeah, and in the meantime, Trini’s going to keep trying to kill me and Marina because he thinks one of us has the notebook. Can you get something in the papers saying thatyou’ve got the notebook? Maybe that would take the heat off Marina and me.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Well, thanks for the information on the Russian, Harry. Goodbye.” She hung up, pissed off.
Her officers showed up around three with Marina’s car keys, and Holly worked until six, then went home. The guard outside the house showed himself when she arrived.
“Hi,” she said. “Everything okay?”
“Very quiet,” the young man replied. “Two of your officers showed up around mid-afternoon with a car; they put it in the garage.”
“Right. I’ve got the keys in my pocket.” She went inside. “Hello?” she called. “Anybody home?” No answer. She checked the garage to see if Grant’s car was there, and it wasn’t. Neither was Marina’s.
She ran upstairs to check the guest room, but it was empty; Marina’s things were gone. She ran back to the front of the house and grabbed her officer. “The car that was brought here this afternoon is gone. When did it leave?”
“I didn’t know it had,” the officer said.
“Did you leave the front of the house at any time?”
“Sure, I check the perimeter every twenty minutes or so. It could have left when I was on the beach side of the house.”
Holly looked up to see Grant turning into the driveway, and she ran over to his car.
“Hi,” he said getting out and handing her a box of wine bottles. “I picked up a few things to drink.”
“Marina’s gone,” she said.
“How?”
“I had her car brought back from Sarasota. I kept the keys, but she must have had another set.”
“She’s obviously headed for home,” Grant said. “Call the state police and have them pick her up on the interstate. Tell them she’s a material witness.”