“I just left Morgan's room,” he explained. “He's not living at the halfway house anymore. He's living in a hotel in the Tenderloin, and he's got a closet full of new clothes. I'm going to call his parole agent and find out if he got a job.”
“How do you suppose he knows Addison?” Rick asked with interest. He had just come from the hearing to set bail. Addison had gotten off nearly scot free, as far as bail went anyway. He had been asked to put up a two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar bond, which was peanuts to him. And the judge was letting him leave for Europe with his family in two days. The federal investigation was still on, but his attorney said it could continue during his absence, it was the FBI's problem, not his, and the judge agreed. They had no doubt that Addison would return to San Francisco in four weeks. He had an empire to run. Rick had watched Addison drive off with his attorney, and he was intrigued by what Ted had found in Morgan's room.
“Maybe they're old friends. The ink on the entry with Addison's name and phone number looks old,” Ted explained. But why Carl Waters's phone number in Modesto? And Fernanda Barnes's address on a piece of paper? No phone number or name. Just the address.
“Why?” Rick echoed the single word in Ted's head.
“That's my point. I don't like this, and I'm not even sure why. Something's coming down, I can smell it, but I'm not even sure what it is.” And then he had a thought. “Can I come look at the file Addison has on Barnes?” Maybe something would turn up there. “And do me another favor,” Ted said, as he turned the key in the ignition. He was going straight to Rick's office to see the file, and whatever else Rick had. He was interested in it now. He had no idea what Fernanda had to do with this, but something told him that she was at the hub of the wheel. She was an obvious target for a lot of reasons. But Ted had no idea for what, or who was involved, let alone why. Maybe the answer was in that file.
“What's the favor?” Rick reminded him. Ted sounded distracted, and he was. He was trying to figure it out, and so far nothing had clicked. There were a lot of pieces flying around in midair. Morgan. Waters. Addison. Fernanda. The car bombing. And there were no obvious connections between any of them. Not yet.
“Check into Addison's finances for me. Go as deep as you can, and see what comes up,” Ted asked as he started the car. He knew Rick would be doing it anyway, but now Ted wanted it fast or as much as he could get in a short trip.
“We already did check, superficially anyway. That's why we arrested him yesterday. There's some smoky business in Nevada, some taxes he hasn't paid. A lot of money going back and forth across state lines.” There was no state tax in Nevada, so it was a haven for guys like Addison, with illegal money on his hands. “It's a lot of nickel-and-dime stuff right now. The worst he'll probably get is a stiff fine. I don't think he'll do time for this. He's got good lawyers,” Rick said, sounding disappointed. “We're still checking.” But they both knew it took time.
“I mean really look into it. Pull up the rug. Take the floor out of the car.”
“Literally?” Rick was stunned. He couldn't imagine what Ted was looking for. And neither could Ted at this point. But he had a powerful sixth sense something was there.
“No, not literally. I mean check him out thoroughly. I want to know what kind of money this guy has, and if he's in trouble anywhere. Shine a bright light on him. Not over the next two months. Find out everything you can now. I want whatever you can get, as fast as you can get it.” He knew how long their investigations could take, especially if they were about money, and lives weren't at stake. But maybe they were in this case. Maybe something else was going on. “Pull out all the stops. I'll be there in ten minutes,” Ted said as he sped downtown.
“It'll take me longer than that,” Rick said apologetically.
“How long?” Ted sounded anxious, and he himself didn't know why.
“Couple of hours. A day or two. I'll try to get you everything I can today.” He was going to have his agents contact the computer analysis and response team in Washington, D.C., and their informants in the underground financial network. But it all took time.
“Christ, you guys are slow. Do whatever you can. I'm halfway there. I'll be there in five.”
“Let me get started. You can read the file he has on Allan Barnes while we dig up whatever else we can. See you in a minute,” he said, and hung up.
By the time Ted walked into his office, Rick had the Barnes file on his desk, and he had three agents working full time on the computers and calling other agencies and a few select informants, to see what they could find out. It was what they had been planning to do on Addison anyway. He had just speeded it up. By a lot. And three hours later, as Ted and Rick sat talking over sandwiches, it paid off. All three agents walked into his office together and handed him a stack of papers.
“What's the bottom line?” Rick asked, looking at them. Ted had finished the Barnes file by then. There was nothing in it but articles and clippings about Allan Barnes's victories and accomplishments, and the single photograph of Fernanda and the kids.
“Addison is thirty million in debt. The Titanic is going down,” one of the agents said. One of their best informants had turned out to be a gold mine.
“Shit,” Rick said, and looked at Ted. “That's quite a debt.”
“His holding company is in trouble,” one of the agents explained, “and he's managed to keep it quiet till now. But it won't stay quiet for long. He's got a juggling act going worthy of Ringling Brothers Circus. We think he's been investing funds for some South American connections. And his investments went bad. He's been borrowing from other companies he's got to cover them, he's got a shitload of bad debts. I think there's probably some credit card fraud at the shallow end. At the deep end, he's in so much trouble, my informant says he'll never bail out. He needs a huge influx of money to clean it up, and no one will give him any. My other informant says he's been laundering money for years. That's what the setup in Nevada is all about, and we have no idea why. But if you wanted to know if he's in trouble, he is. A lot of it. Deep, deep shit. If you want to know why and how, and who he's been investing for, it'll take time. And a lot of guys. This is the rough and dirty. We've still got a lot of checking to do. But it looks pretty bad.”
“I think that'll do it for now,” Rick said quietly, and thanked all three of them for the fast work, particularly with their informants. As soon as they left, he turned to Ted. “So what do you think?” He could see Ted's mind racing at full speed.
“I think we have a guy who we know is at least thirty million dollars in debt, maybe more. A woman whose husband left her roughly half a billion dollars, according to the press anyway, if you can believe what you read, and I don't. But even if she's worth half of that, she's a sitting duck, with three kids. You have two convicted felons who got out of the slammer six weeks ago, and seem to be floating around loose. They're both tied to Addison in some way and each other. And you have a car bombing down the street from our sitting duck. She's a victim waiting to be born, if you ask me, and so are those kids. You know what I think? I think Addison is after her, I think that's what that file is about. You could never pin it on him in court and make it stick, but something's happening, and if I really let my imagination run wild, I think Addison used Morgan as a conduit to Waters. Maybe now they're in it together, maybe not. I think Waters was watching her when he set the bomb on Judge McIntyre, if he did. And now I think he did. It's too big a coincidence that they just happen to live on the same street. He was probably there anyway, and figured he'd get a twofer for his time. Why not? It's shit luck the Barnes boy didn't recognize him, but you can't have everything all at once. I think what we're looking at here is a conspiracy against Fernanda Barnes. I know I sound like a lunatic, and I can't substantiate any of it, but that's what I think, and my gut says I'm right.”