To get the ball rolling, I asked him, “What terms are you proposing, Jason?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Well… suggest something.”
“How about ten million?”
“How about thirty?”
“Get serious.”
“Serious? Fifty million.”
“I… look, that’s a lot of money.”
“Ooops… seventy million. Keep flapping your gums, Jason, and it’ll hit a hundred. In fact, that’s the number in our civil suit. It could be that’s an unrealistic figure, but compounded by the sweet satisfaction that you personally will lose a few billion in stock value, it works out okay for me.” I couldn’t resist adding, “ You think like a businessman, Jason.”
There was another long pause. I mean, this guy experienced no qualms about throwing away a few hundred grand for a fine piece of ass. Blow this deal, and thousands of lawyers and stockholders would scramble to get a piece of his ass. Also, he had to be thinking about all those recent corporate chieftains being led away in Fed bracelets.
He suggested, finally, “Seventy million is possible. I’d have to find a way to structure it, though. I can’t just hand over a check.. . taxes, SEC filings, notification to my board… I have to consider these things. The money, I need a way to explain it. Maybe if… well, maybe if we worked it as a stock transfer…”
While Jason rambled on, I contemplated the stakes and sums here. I mean, seventy million big ones.
This was a dangerous number, an intoxicating number, and I knew if I thought about it, I mean really took a moment and thought about it, everything it could buy… I slapped myself and interrupted him. “Jason, I’ve reconsidered.”
“Good, Sean. I don’t like this, I really don’t, but I’ve got eight thousand hardworking employees to consider. Wall Street is a treacherous place these days. I’ve done nothing wrong, but these days, a rumor of impropriety… Christ, stockholders pull the trigger over a whisper.”
I was tired of this guy, and I was really tired of this game, and I said, “I mean I changed my mind about the money. See you in court, pal.”
I hung up on him.
I called Janet on her cell. When she answered, I said, “How’s it going?”
“Lousy. I feel left out.”
“Don’t. You did your part, and it’s working.”
“Tell me about that.”
“Jessica Moner called, then Cy, then Jason. We’re up to seventy million to drop the suit.”
Janet was a cool cookie, but I heard a sharp intake of breath.
I added, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but as my attorney, I was going to cut you in for half.”
“Well… That’s very generous.”
“I have a soft spot for lawyers. Of course, we never would’ve lived long enough to spend a dime.”
“That’s a consolation.” She paused a moment, then asked, “Sean, what’s going on here?”
“I still don’t know. More than just bookkeeping sleight of hand, though.”
“You’re right. That much to hide a simple financial impropriety?”
I suggested, “So, let’s start back at the beginning.”
“Good. What happened in the beginning?”
“It begins with Lisa, like me, being assigned to work on the Morris Networks account.”
“And they probably chose you two because of your lack of competence in corporate finance.”
“A good assumption.”
“Because they’re lawyers and because Barry definitely-maybe Cy, possibly Bronson, and perhaps others-knew that Morris was cooking its books. None of them wanted their fingerprints on it. They wanted a patsy to take the fall, in the event a fall ever needed to be taken.”
Following that line of thought, I said, “And if it came to light, the firm could shovel the crap in our direction. The partners would say they had patriotically volunteered their services for this Army program, and never realized how stupid and incompetent JAG officers are.”
“But like you, Lisa probably discovered it, and she had to be eliminated.”
“Right.”
“But how did they get onto her?”
“Well, when I became curious, I faxed the audit to my brother, who’s a business wizard. He interpreted the spreadsheets and told me what I should worry about.”
“Back to Lisa, please.”
“We’ve never left Lisa. The other victims, what were their jobs?”
“A TV news personality, an accountant, an SEC attorney… oh, shit.”
“Right. Lisa stumbled onto something suspicious, something she didn’t understand, and she gave financial data to Julia Cuthburt, an accountant, and Anne Carrol, an SEC attorney, for inter pretation.”
“But how did the firm find out?”
“Hal Merriweather, I think.”
“Why?”
“Hal gets printouts from the server twice a day. I’d guess that when Lisa e-mailed Cuthburt and Carrol, Merriweather recognized the SEC and Cuthburt’s accounting firm from their Internet addresses.”
“What about Fiorio?”
“Maybe Lisa was using her to expose this thing. I don’t know what her role was, or why she was murdered.”
And of course, Janet then asked, “And me? Lisa and I never discussed a word about this.”
“Well, I’ve thought about that.”
“Go on.”
“In Lisa’s e-mails to you, Cuthburt, and Carrol, she mentioned packages. I think the packages were the audit, and I think Merriweather presumed you got one, too.”
In fact, I was speculating wildly. I was connecting dots in midair. But the dots did connect.
After a moment, Janet said, “So they sent a hit man after Lisa, and the rest of us, to bury it.”
“Yes.” Then I said, “Incidentally, did you call your friend in Boston and ask him to check on Grand Vistas?”
“I did. I should call him back now, shouldn’t I?”
She should, and we agreed she’d call me right back. I returned to the living room, where Spinelli and his buddies were seated on the couch, shotguns in their laps, eyes glued to an old rerun of Miami Vice. Cops love their cop shows.
We spent a few moments surveying the preparations. This began with an incisive dissertation by Charlie about the vulnerabilities and ports of entry to my home. My apartment complex had been built some fifty years earlier, when construction techniques included heavy steel girders, cinderblock walls, and super-thick layers between floors. Were the building newer and less sturdy, he informed me, intruders might blow their way through walls or ceilings, but that wouldn’t happen here. I informed Charlie that this was exactly the selling point that drew me here. He thought that was very funny.
He next showed me an electronic device he had installed on the floor of the tiny porch off my living room: a dark pad that operates like a dog fence, except the current is triggered by touch and vibration. Were I to, say, accidentally wander out onto my porch, Charlie assured me, I’d be fine. I’d get some fried hairtips and loose teeth, but the voltage was designed to be incapacitating, not lethal. My windows were covered with dark paper and wired with motion sensors. A miniature camera in a filament had been run underneath the door, displaying the hallway. Four metal shooter’s shields of the variety favored by SWAT teams had been erected in the living room, facing the door.
After we inspected all these little treats and nasties, Bill asked me, “What makes you think he’ll come soon?”
“A hunch.”
Charlie asked, “How does he even know you’re here?”
“Because they’ve been following Janet and me for days.”
“They?” Spinelli asked. I guess I had failed to mention this part to him.
“Yes, they,” I responded. “Inside the files in the rental car were multiple photos of Janet and me. Janet, for instance, was photographed the same day Lisa died. The picture was taken in Boston. Think about that.”
“No shit.”
“He’s not acting alone. He has an accomplice who handles the research, probably handles logistics, and helps set up the kill.”
He shook his head. “That’s how the asshole kills so many, so quickly.”
“We should assume they saw me leave the firm and come here.”