Spreading her left hand out on her thigh, Hilary lifted her glass and took a sip of her drink. She looked at me over the top of her glass.
I told her what had happened at Roseman’s. She didn’t seem to care. It was probably to be expected. I told her about what he had said about Susan and what had happened to her.
“So you don’t think the money was the reason she was killed?”
“No,” I said. “It probably made them mad, but there was another reason why she was killed. Susan was a fed. She also had a top secret clearance. They don’t give those to hookers. The fact that she had the same address here in Atlanta as this Max Reynolds and the Marks’s can only mean they were agents undercover at this casino where she was killed. She had information that someone wanted. Maybe part of it was due to the money I took, but there was another more important reason that I can’t get straight in my mind. John Goodman mentioned the Hightowers and something about a counterfeit operation. Since Susan apparently was involved with this Homeland Security thing, I need to understand how that relates to the operation at that casino.”
“Maybe it had nothing to do with the casino per se,” said Hilary. Sometimes Hilary was not only one of the prettiest woman I had ever met, but the smartest.
“John said that he had heard that Susan was involved in some sort of counterfeiting operation. That might explain the torturing she endured.”
“I thought it might have something to do with National Security,” Hilary said, “but maybe the casino is just a smoke screen.”
“Explain,” I said.
“Maybe it just happened at the casino and something was triggered when you robbed it that has come to the surface now. Have you checked Susan’s address book for names that might connect?”
“Susan was fifteen years old when I pulled the casino heist. She didn’t move to Jacksonville and start working for this casino until around two years ago. I never told her anything about the heist itself. Can’t be that,” I said.
“What if it was one of her johns? Do you have her address book here?”
“Yes,” I said. “But I think your buddy Chancez is in the loop somehow. Might be an angle we can work here. You have a way of contacting him?”
I hadn’t thought a john might be the killer. In any murder investigation involving a prostitute that is usually the first place to look for a suspect. I was kicking myself for being so stupid. Walking into the bedroom, I reached into my duffle bag and took out Susan’s address book and brought it to Hilary. I left her to search the names and called room service and ordered dinner.
At about six-thirty Crusher started to smack his lips like a seal and flop around on his side. I could tell he was uncomfortable, but when you are real tired you can sleep anywhere.
“What time is it?” he said reaching up one of his big paws to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“Six-thirty,” I said.
“God, it’s been a big day. Accessory to a killing after beating up a low life and then on the lam because of something we have, but don’t know what it is. And, last, but not least, there is the money. Couldn’t get any better.
“By any chance you order any food?”
“Let me see,” I said. “Ordered prime rib with the bone in, stuffed potatoes and asparagus, with hollandaise sauce. For desert, caramel ice cream on a warm brownie with chocolate sauce and a six pack of Red Hook Ale. Best I could do.”
“Well, that ought to cover it. Time for a drink. You come up with any more ideas?”
‘Maybe,” I said. “One of my able-bodied assistants is working on it as we speak.”
“You mean, only assistant,” said Hilary. “Come here. I think I may have something. Look at this.”
Holding up Susan’s address book, there was a number like a code and next to it a dollar sign and the word ‘plates’.
“It could be several things,” I said. “Could be a dinner reservation and the single dollar sign are the codes in those restaurant rating books. One dollar sign means it is inexpensive. Or, it could be the column ‘B’ we are looking for. The money sign could be for the word money and the word plate could be for a counterfeiting operation. Money plate could mean the plates themselves.”
“What do you think the number is?” said Hilary.
“No idea,” I said.
“Well, it’s ten numbers so that leaves out the idea of it being a license plate, unless it’s foreign. Could be an address, but then they’re generally not that long. I think it is a telephone number. The first three numbers is an area code, the next three, an exchange and then the rest of the number.”
“How are we going to find out whose number it is.” said Crusher.
“I have been thinking about that,” said Hilary. “I know someone in AT&T that owes me a favor, but it’s risky since he would have to call us back. So, on that note, I assumed that it’s a telephone number and, checking area codes at the front of a telephone book, the area code for that number, if it is an area code, matches that of Jupiter, Florida.”
“Where’s Jupiter, Florida?” said Crusher.
“South of Stuart, Florida and north of Palm Beach,” said Hilary.
“Oh good,” said Crusher. “That helps me.”
“There’s one other way we can learn who lives there,” I said.
“How?” said Hilary and Crusher almost at once.
“Simple,” I said. “We call it and see who answers.”
“Could do that,” said Hilary, “if someone hadn’t stepped on my cellphone.”
After we finished eating, we left Crusher to watch something called Wrestle Mania and went out to buy a new cellphone.
Before we left, I told Crusher to make himself at home. He was ordering up a six pack of beer and some nachos as we walked out the door.
“You think he’s going to be alright by himself?” said Hilary as we walked to the elevator to go to our car.
“What could go wrong,” I said.
Chapter 50
Before leaving the Hotel, I had Hilary get a safe deposit box from the hotel and put Roseman’s file in it. I didn’t want it laying a round and I didn’t want to get caught with it. Right now Hilary was the only person that knew I had it. A lot of what was in the file was probably speculation on Roseman’s part, but it had information that he had to get from someone inside the Outfit.
After taking care of the file, Hilary got a list of places from the front desk on where buy a prepaid cellphone.
“They said Best Buy was the place to go. It’s down Peachtree about two miles on our left.”
At nine o’clock at night, there wasn’t much traffic on Peachtree Street. But, because we were on so many hit lists, I was especially vigilant when moving around in public, especially in a car. Looking in the rear view mirror, I noticed a set of lights moving up behind me.
“I think we have a tail,” I said.
Without looking around, Hilary said, “Best Buy is just ahead. Pull in and see if they follow us.”
Driving into the parking area, I watched the lights go by. It was a Ford four door Crown Victoria dark in color. It had Federal Government stamped all over it. At the next light it took a left. Maybe I was wrong. Could have been someone heading home and they just liked dark colored Fords.
Switching gears, I parked in a handicap space right in front of the store while Hilary went in to buy the phone. I told her to put a hundred dollars on the phone and buy a card for an extra hundred dollars’ worth of time.
It wasn’t long before the Crown Victoria drifted into the parking area. As it passed behind our car, I gave some thought to putting the car in reverse and stepping on the gas. Any other day and I might have done it.
Turning to wait for Hilary, I heard a knocking on the rear door window of the car. It was the driver of the Crown Vic. Lowering my window and I said, “What’d you need?”
“Need to talk with you.”
“Not tonight. Hit the road,” I said reaching into my jacket pocket and worked the Python o
ut holding it next to my right leg.
“My name is Max Reynolds. You can either talk to me here or downtown at my office.”
Sometimes I can be real stubborn and this just happened to be one of those times.
“Give me a card,” I said. “I’ll call you.”
About that time Hilary walked out of the store and got in the car, locking her door as she did.
“Who is the newbie hanging on the outside?”
“Says he’s Max Reynolds. Give me a minute.”
Turning to talk out my window again, Reynolds was gone.
“I must have scared him off,” Hilary said.
“Must have,” I said. “What kind of phone did you get?”
“It’s a Samsung thingy,” said Hilary. “I like the color.
That’s why I bought it.”
“Great. How much time did you buy with it?”
“What you asked for.
“When I push this button before I go to bed, it will glow in the dark.”
“When you call that number if it’s Hightower, maybe he’ll glow in the dark.”
“You ready?”
“Ready,” I said.
I drove out of the shopping area as Hilary dialed the number. After a few rings an automated attendant answered.
“This is the Hightower residence. If your call is for Jonathon, please select the number one on your telephone key pad and wait for the beep. If your call is for Sabrina, please select the number two on your telephone key pad and wait for the beep. In either case, please speak clearly and distinctly and leave a number where someone can call you back.”
Hilary hit the number one and left a message.
“Jonathon, this is Simply Wonderful. I’m a friend of Kandi Kain’s. I’m going to be in the area and Kandi said I should look you up when while I was in town. I’ll be riding down on the bus to meet you Jonathon. Kandi said you knew how to show a girl a really goodtime.”
Leaving the telephone number of the new prepaid cellphone, we never expected to get a call back, but five minutes after Hilary had placed the call to the number in Jupiter, she got a call back. Hilary let it go to voice mail.
“This is Missus Jonathon Hightower returning the call of Simply Wonderful. At first I thought this might be a joke caller, but then the use of the name Kandi Kain put the call into a class of its own. Miss Wonderful, my husband is getting all the blow jobs he can handle right now. However, if you are so inclined, we have a new male Rottweiler who has yet to be fixed and I am sure he would be willing to accommodate your level of interest. Furthermore, you can kiss my ass on any given Sunday since Jonathon is no longer in need of any outsourced services. Good day to you, Miss Simply.”
After that, we got a call from Jonathon Hightower apologizing for his wife’s behavior and that if Simply happened to be in town he would be happy to meet her at his office at number Ten Worth Avenue, Palm Beach, Florida.
“What do you make of that,” I said.
“Sounds like Jonathon is a pervert and may not get as much action as Sabrina is letting on,” said Hilary. “On the other vein, it may mean that you are right about the counterfeiting slant.”
“What is even more interesting is that she sounded like she knew my sister by her professional name. Maybe Lockman was telling the truth about that.”
“A little late for him, don’t you think?”
“For him, yes. For the information, it is never too late for that,” I said.
Driving out of the parking area, the same dark car that had tried to block me in while Hilary was buying the phone was right behind us. I crossed a lane and pulled in front of a panel truck and took the next right turn onto a side street and pulled over to the curb. The car behind us had pulled into the other lane when I did, but missed the turn.
“What’s wrong,” she said.
“I don’t know yet, but we are about to have a visitor.”
The car turned into a gas station and made a quick turn onto the side street and parked behind our car. I got out of the car holding the Python down along the side of my leg and waited for the driver to get out of his. It was the same bozo from before. I wasn’t able to tell if he was alone or not since no light came on inside the car when he got out.
Dressed in a dark blazer with light colored slacks, he had Fed written all over him. When he got close enough where I could see his face, he said, “Evening,” like he had met me out on a stroll.
I didn’t say anything. I could feel the Python parked beside my leg. It was a good place for it if I had to get to it quickly, but there was nothing to do and wait for him to make the next move.
Sticking out his right hand, he said, “My name is Max Reynolds and I’m betting you are Lou Malloy and in the car with you is Hilary Kelly.”
I didn’t shake his hand and said nothing. I was watching his eyes. After a few minutes he dropped the Good Humor act.
“You are staying at the Hyatt Regency in downtown Atlanta and in your room is a cohort by the name of Harold Barnes aka Crusher. Have I got that right?”
I tried not to look surprised, but I was. I prided myself on staying hidden, but this guy had all the facts.
“Mind if we talk?” he said.
I knew one thing. John Goodman had described a Max Reynolds on our call and this wasn’t him.
“You’re talking. I’m listening.”
“Can we go somewhere private?”
I saw a diner across from where we were standing and nodded toward it. “Place over there looks open,” I said.
“Fine with me,” he said. “Let’s go. I’ll buy.”
I waited for him to get back in his car and drive over to the diner before getting in my car. Hilary was a thousand questions. I just sat for a few minutes thinking what I should do.
“Hilary, you’re going to have to trust me on this one. Says his name is Max Reynolds, but that is not the Max Reynolds described by Goodman. Whoever this guy is he’s stopped us for a reason. Might as well find out what he wants. However, he has our vitals.”
“What’s that?” Hilary asked.
“He knows a lot about us, like where we are staying, who else is there and so forth. We need to go slow on this one.”
Hilary seemed resigned to the fact that we were goners.
“Lou, this can’t be good.”
“Maybe, but not a whole lot we can do about it. I say we go and hear what he has to say and then react.”
“You mean, try to jump up before you hit the ground hoping to break your fall?”
“Something like that,” I said.
The restaurant was one of those all night diners that served breakfast 24/7.
“Something doesn’t feel right about him. He’s either government or was government and now out on his own,” I said.
“That’s not a comforting thought, since the government kills people all the time.”
“If he wanted to kill us we probably would already be dead. He wants something from us. Might as well find out what it is.”
“That’s now,” said Hilary.
Entering the restaurant, I looked for Reynolds. He was sitting in one of the booths with a partner along the far wall of the restaurant. The diner had a fountain bar where you could sit and order thirty-eight kinds of ice cream and if you were real motivated, you could order a fried clam boat with a pound of French fries smothered in cheddar cheese.
Approaching their booth, Reynolds and his buddy didn’t move to shake our hands or introduce themselves. Maybe that wasn’t in the spook handbook? Reynolds was the first to break the ice.
“Just so you know. We are not here for you. Sitting to my left is Brandon Miles. Miles is the head of the Strategic Home Initiative Taskforce of Homeland Security.”
I smiled and said, “Sounds like a bunch of shit if you ask me.”
Without breaking stride, Miles smiled and said, “We didn’t pick out the name, we just work there.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Mister Malloy, t
he government has been following your efforts the past few days and we think you could use some help.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, so far we have counted over ten dead bodies that appear to be due to your handiwork. If you keep on going, you’re going to be arrested by the local folks who may frown on the amount of attrition you are responsible for.”
I felt Hilary’s nails dig into the palm of my hand. I got her message. What she and I had here was the source of the cleaners that have been following us around with shovels.
“So arrest us,” I said.
Just then a waitress dropped some menus on the table and walked away. Whatever happened to service with a smile?
“Come on Mister Malloy. If we wanted to do that we would have. No, what we want to do is give you some help.”
“To do what? Killing people is about all I’m good at.”
Miles didn’t appear to appreciate my humor. I could sense that Reynolds was sitting on him.
“Yes,” said Reynolds. “There is that. But, no one is perfect in our business, Mister Malloy. Sometimes we have to ride with the Devil to get out of Hell.”
Well, so much for law and order.
“What is it you want from us?”
“Well here is what we need and why.”
Breaking things down in their order of importance, Reynolds began his story
Susan was in fact an agent of the taskforce Reynolds headed up. Miles was his major domo and had a license to kill, as did all members of the task force. He said Susan had been working to infiltrate a vicious gang that had gained control of the insurance company Hilary worked for. When he mentioned the name of Silvio Chancez, I thought Hilary was going to jump through her skin, but she kept her counsel. Chancez was a field guy who worked for the Outfit lining up casinos that bought into the idea of insuring their losses. As far as the Taskforce was able to learn, their game was for the company to issue a policy of insurance. Then they would set up a plan to rob the casino in order to trigger the loss payout from the company. The insurance money that was paid to the casino was paid in cash and as far as the Indians were concerned that worked for them. They only insured Indian-backed casinos. When they robbed the casino of the cash, they paid out the claim with something referred to as dead money. This was money that needed to be laundered. The stolen money taken from the casino was now clean money and put back into the insurance company as working capital. The premiums were based on the total annual earnings of each casino subject to an audit that the insurance company performed. The average take annually of an Indian casino was around two hundred million dollars, making the premium substantial. The Indians never reported the losses because they had the insurance and they could care less.”
Dead Money Run Page 16