The counterfeiter, Danny, was identified as Daniel Kerrigan, age seventy-three. "Long ago," Innes reported,
"Kerrigan had three arrests and two convictions for forgery, but we haven't heard of him in Sfteen years. He's either been legit, lucky, or clever."
Wainwright recalled and repeated a remark of Danny's relayed by Eastin to the effect that he had been working with an efficient organization.
"Could be," Innes said. After their first conference Wainwright and the four agents maintained frequent contact and he promised to inform them immediately of any new report from Eastin.
All were agreed that the remaining key piece of information was the location of the counterfeiters' headquarters. So far, no one had any idea where that Night be. Yet hopes of obtaining a further lead were high, and if and when it happened the FBI and Secret Service were ready to close in.
Abruptly, as Nolan Wainwright meditated, his telephone jangled. A secretary said that Mr. Vandervoort would like to see him as soon as possible. Wainwright was incredulous.
Facing Alex Vandervoort, across the latter s desk, he protested, "You can't be serious"
"I'm serious," Alex said. "Though I have trouble believing you were, making use of the Nunez girl the way you have. Of all the insane notions.," "Insane or not, it worked." Alex ignored the comment. "You put the girl in jeopardy, consulting no one. As a result we're obligated to take care of her, and may even have a lawsuit on our hands."
"I worked on the assumption," Wainwright argued, "that the fewer people who knew what she was doing, the safer she would be."
"No! That's your rationalization now, Nolan. What you really thought was that if I had known, or Edwina D'Orsey, we'd have stopped you. I knew about Eastin.
Was I likely to be less discreet about the girl?" Wainwright rubbed a knuckle along the surface of his chin. "Well, I guess you have a point."
"Damn right I do!" "But that's still no reason, Alex, for abandoning the entire operation.
For the first time in investigating Keycharge frauds we're close to a big breakthrough.
Okay, my judgment was wrong in using Nunez. I admit it. But it wasn't wrong about Eastin, and we've got results to prove it."
Alex shook his head decisively. "Nolan, I let you change my mind once before.
This time I won't. Our business here is banking, not crime busting. We'll seek help from law enforcement agencies and co-operate with them all we can.
But we will not sustain aggressive crime-fighting programs of our own. So I tell you end the arrangement with Eastin, today if possible." "Look, Alex…"
"I already have looked, and don't like what I see. I will not have FMA responsible for risking human lives even Eastin's.
That's definite, so let's not waste time in further argument."
As Wainwright looked sourly despondent, Alex went on, "The other thing I want done is a conference set up this afternoon between you, Edwina D'Orsey, me, to discuss what to do about Mrs. Nunez.
You can start considering ideas. What may be necessary…"
A secretary appeared in the office doorway. Alex said irritably, "Whatever it is - later!" The girl shook her head. "Mr. Vandervoort, Miss Bracken's on the line. She said it's extremely urgent and you'd want to be interrupted, whatever you were doing."
Alex sighed. He picked up a phone. "Yes, Bracken?"
"Alex," Margot's voice said, "it's about Juanita Nunez." "What about her?" "She's disappeared." "Wait." Alex moved a switch, transferring the call to a speaker phone so that Wainwright could hear.
"Go ahead." "I'm terribly worried.
When I left Juanita last night, and knowing I was going to see you later, I arranged to telephone her at work today.
She was deeply concerned. I hoped to be able to give some reassurance."
"Yes?" "Alex, she didn't get to work." Margot's voice sounded strained. "Well, maybe…" "Please listen. I'm at Forum East now. I went there when I learned she wasn't at the bank and I couldn't get an answer on Juanita's home phone either.
Since then I've talked to some other people in the building where she lives.
Two of them say Juanita left her apartment this morning, at her usual time, with her little girl Estela. Juanita always takes Estela to nursery school on her way to the bank.
I found out the name of the school and phoned. Estela isn't there. Neither she nor her mother arrived this morning."
There was a silence. Margot's voice asked,
"Alex, are you still listening?" "Yes, I'm here."
"After that, I phoned the bank again and this time talked to Edwina. She's checked personally. Not only has Juanita not appeared, she hasn't phoned in, which isn't like her.
That's why I'm worried. I'm convinced something's gone terribly, terribly wrong."
"Do you have any ideas?"
"Yes," Margot said. "The same one you have."
"Wait," he told her. "Nolan's here." Wainwright had hunched forward, listening.
Now he straightened and said quietly, "Nunez has been picked up.
There isn't any doubt of it." "By?"
"By someone from that Double-Seven crowd.
They're probably on to Eastin, too." "You think they've taken her to that club?"
"No. That's the last thing they'll do. She's somewhere else."
"Do you have any idea where?" “No” "And whoever it is has the child, too?"
"I'm afraid so."
There was anguish in Wainwright's eyes.
"I'm sorry, Alex." "You got us into this," Alex said fiercely.
"Now, for God's sake, you've got to get Juanita and the kid out of it!" Wainwright was concentrating, thinking as he spoke.
"The first thing is to see if there's a chance of warning Eastin.
If we can get to him, and get him out, he might know something which could lead us to the girl."
He had a small black notebook open and was already reaching for another phone.
20
It happened so swiftly and was so totally unexpected that car doors had slammed, the big black limousine was moving, before she had a chance to cry out.
By then Juanita knew instinctively it was too late, but screamed just the same
"Help! Help!" until a fist slammed savagely into her face, followed by a gloved hand clamped across her mouth.
Even then, hearing Estela's shriek of terror alongside her, Juanita went on struggling until the fist hit hard a second time and vision blurred while sounds receded far away.
The day a clear, fresh, early-November morning had begun normally. Juanita and Estela were up in time to have breakfast, then watch the NBC Today news on their small black and white portable.
After that, they hurried to leave as usual at 7:30, which allowed Juanita just enough time to accompany Estela to nursery school before catching a bus to downtown and the bank.
Juanita always liked mornings, and being with Estela was a joyous way to start any day. Coming out of the building, Estela had skipped ahead, calling back,
"Mommy, I'm missing all the lines," and Juanita smiled because evading lines and cracks in the sidewalk was a game they often played. It was about then that Juanita took vague notice of the dark-windowed limousine parked just ahead, with its rear curbside door open.
She had taken more notice, though, as Estela neared the car and someone inside it spoke to her. Estela moved closer.
As she did, a hand reached out and yanked the little girl inside.
Instantly, Juanita had run to the car door. Then, from behind, a figure whom she hadn't seen dosed in and shoved Juanita hard, making her trip and fall forward into the car, scraping her legs painfully.
Before she could recover, Juanita was dragged inside and pushed to the floor with Estela.
The door behind her slammed, also a door in front, and the car was moving.
Now, as her head cleared and full consciousness returned, she heard a voice say,