“Actually, this was all done before I came the first time,” Brian said. “My superior wanted to give you a chance to work with us on your own.”
He chuckled. “Like I would.”
Brian pointed a finger at him and joined in the laughter. “That’s exactly what I told her. But she’s the boss, so I had to do what she said. Thankfully, you said no, so now we get to do this my way.”
Jamison then made clear that there was more than enough evidence in the file to support a variety of felonies that Jamaica, the United States, several South American nations, or most of the Caribbean could prosecute. Nearly all of those jurisdictions also allowed civil forfeiture of property upon conviction, which meant all of the Rowe wealth could be seized. Of course, that unpleasantness might be avoided if Béne was willing to do one simple thing.
Work with them.
“Would you have anything to offer?” Brian asked him.
“How about a source directly inside Simon’s camp.”
Jamison had been introduced to Simon as Béne’s chief lieutenant, and a point was made to underscore their close relationship. Brian had even interacted with Simon and his people twice in Jamaica, including Simon’s own lieutenant, Rócha. His appearance in Vienna had certainly spooked the Simon. Enough that Alle Becket’s death had been ordered. Béne knew that when he revealed that the young woman was still alive, the Americans would not like it. But what did he care? Liking things was never part of their bargain.
“If I had not told the Simon about her,” he made clear, “this would be over. He has no further use of me.”
The silent pause signaled that Jamison knew that to be true. Finally, Brian asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Make her available tomorrow for the trade. He still thinks you work for me. I didn’t sell you out.”
“Béne, you have no idea who you’re dealing with. Simon is a dangerous man, into things way beyond finding some lost gold mine. I’ve come to realize that there’s something big happening here.”
“I don’t suppose you’d share those thoughts?”
“Get real.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t think so. But know this. Finding that lost mine is still important to him. I heard it in his voice. Lucky for you he still needs me. Or, better yet, he needs that woman.”
“I could have you arrested.”
“But you won’t. What I did kept this alive. And you know it.”
“I’m going to have to run this by people above my pay grade.”
“You do that. But I suggest you be at that church tomorrow with the daughter. The Simon is expecting her.”
“You know that he wants to kill both her and her father, and probably me, too.”
He laughed again. “Your problem.”
“I don’t buy all this, Béne. Simon could have told you to go to hell. He doesn’t need the woman that bad. There has to be more you offered than just her.”
“Oh, yes. You’re so right. I definitely have something else he wants. So be a good agent and do your job. Have her there. See what happens. Then know that the Simon will be coming back my way.”
He paused.
“And that will allow us both to find what we are after.”
———
TOM DOZED IN AND OUT. HE’D ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO SLEEP ON planes. That had been his time to rest, moving from one place to the next, readying himself for what lay ahead. But he was eight years out of practice. He’d been thinking about Michele and what a mess he made of both their lives.
“You’re a cheater, Tom. Women are your weakness.”
“Am I also a fraud?”
She’d never told him her thoughts about what happened to him.
“That one I don’t know. It’s certainly in you, since cheaters always cheat. But I have to say, I was shocked by all that.”
Her voice was calm, her words clear. The anger that had stayed between them had faded in the year since the divorce.
“I’ve met somebody,” she told him. “I’m going to get married.”
He was not surprised. Other men would quickly discover her.
“I’m happy for you.”
“It’s Alle you have to deal with. I’ve told you before, don’t wait until it’s too late.”
“I know. I know.”
“I have to go now, Tom. And I was wrong a moment ago. You’re a lousy husband and an even worse father, but you were a good reporter.”
He recalled how her affirmation of his innocence had hurt him even more.
All that he’d done to her.
Yet she still believed in him.
That was the last time they ever spoke.
He spent the next seven years wallowing in self-pity, living alone. She remarried but lost her life far too early.
And his daughter had not even allowed him to attend the funeral.
He grabbed hold of himself.
And wondered.
What would he say to Alle once she was free?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ZACHARIAH SETTLED DOWN BEFORE THE COMPUTER. HE’D ARRIVED back in Vienna four hours ago and Rócha had driven him straight to the estate. He’d dozed in and out for a couple of hours during the transatlantic flight, anxious.
Today was the day.
The Levite had left something in his grave, just as Zachariah’s grandfather and father had predicted might happen, and he’d found it. Tom Sagan’s stunt in Florida had actually worked to his advantage since disposing of two bodies, once this day was over, would prove far easier here than in America. He’d even made a deal with Béne Rowe. No choice, really. Having Alle Becket to show Sagan would make things much easier. But there was still the matter of the spy within his household. He employed thirty-two people at the estate, including Rócha. The traitor’s identity was obvious, and he’d learned on returning that the man called Midnight was gone.
As he should be.
Part of Rowe’s bargain was that his asset not be harmed.
Ordinarily, he might not have honored such a request, but Rowe had tantalized him with what had been found at another Levite’s grave in Jamaica. A hooked X. And documents that might point the way to the lost mine. Keeping every avenue open seemed important.
At least for now.
The computer came to life and a man’s face appeared.
He was middle-aged and bearded, with long sideburns.
“How are things today in Israel, my friend,” he said to the screen.
“Another day of negotiations. We are making progress, finally, toward a true peace.”
And he knew how. “What are we giving away?”
“Such an attitude, Zachariah. There is nothing wrong with talking to your adversary.”
“Provided you do not concede.”
“Now, that I cannot promise. As of yesterday, the Knesset was considering more concessions. The United States is pressuring. More so than ever. They want movement on our part. Significant movement. We stall but, in the end, there is a feeling that perhaps we should concede.”
This man headed one of six minor Israeli parties. They varied in slant from Ultra-Reform to Orthodoxy. His was more moderate, centrist, which was why Zachariah kept the line of communication open. Ordinarily, all six’s presence would be ignored, but the Israeli Parliament was severely divided, coalitions forming and dissolving by the hour. Every vote counted.
“Billions in aid comes from America,” the man said. “You can ignore them for a while, but not forever. It is reality. There is even talk of leveling the separation fence. Many think it is time.”