Chapter 36
THE AFFAIR
Within ten days of filing a chapter 11 a representative from the United States Trustee's office calls the debtor-in-possession and counsel in for a conference at their offices in the Earle Cabell Federal Building. Chapter 11 is rather complicated and the trustee wants to be sure everyone knows the rules and will comply with them. In this case Tex was the debtor-in-possession. What that term meant was that he was still operating his business despite the fact that he had filed bankruptcy. The meeting went well and after it was over I suggested we stop for a cup of coffee at the seventh floor cafeteria.
"Can you get someone to help with that monthly operating report?" Tex asked. "I'm not a number cruncher."
"Sure. I know an accountant who can do it for you."
"Good. I hate accounting."
I laughed. "That's probably one reason you're down here today."
"Bullshit. I'm down here because of that mother—"
"Speaking of Don Baker. We may have a problem."
"What?"
"You told me you were home on Sunday night watching Monday night football when Don Baker was murdered, but Toni doesn't confirm that alibi."
"Shit. What did she tell you?"
"That you both went out that night alone. She thinks you went to a sports bar."
"Good. That's where I went—Gameday Sports Bar & Grille. You know, the one on Main Street in Grand Prairie."
"Good. Then you'll have lots of witnesses who can confirm your alibi."
Tex looked away and swallowed hard. "Well, I don't know. I may not have talked to anyone."
"Damn it, Tex. Quit playing games."
"Okay. Okay. You got me," he said looking like a wounded puppy. "I wasn't at the sports bar. So now what?"
"How about the truth. It's attorney-client privileged. I won't tell a soul what you tell me."
Tex rotated his head from side to side nervously. He took a deep breath.
"Come on, Tex. Spit it out. I need to know."
He looked me in the eyes. "She came on to me. I was just sitting there watching the Cowboys get slaughtered by Oakland."
Paula was right, he was screwing around on Toni. I was relieved but also shocked by this revelation. Tex and Toni seemed so happy, but I certainly could appreciate the difficulty in resisting temptation. I smiled sympathetically.
"Who was she?"
"A college girl from UT Arlington. We started talking and one thing led to another."
"Why would a college girl be interested in—?"
"A man of my maturity," Tex replied, smiling.
"Yes, an old fart like you."
"She was complaining about her boyfriend—you know— ejaculating early."
"What! You meet a girl and suddenly start talking about her sex life?"
"Hey. The Cowboys were losing. What else was there to talk about."
I shook my head and chuckled. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"So, I told her that wouldn't be a problem with me. She could ride me all night long and I'd hold it in."
"Okay. I don't need to hear anymore. Just give me her name and number."
"Why? You want a piece of the action? I don't know—"
"No, I need to verify your alibi, you idiot."
Tex shrugged. "Oh. . . . You're not going to tell Toni, are you?"
"No. Your dirty little secret is safe with me."
"Good. A man of my age doesn't get this kind of opportunity too often. I don't want you—"
"You're still seeing her?"
He gave me a blank look.
"Tex, you're thirty years older than she is. She's got to have some ulterior motive for having a relationship with you. Does she know you're in bankruptcy or have you been feeding her a line about the millions of dollars you have?"
"She's not after my money. Anyway, I'd still have a million dollars had it not been for that sleazy bastard, Don Baker."
"Okay, I think this is where this conversation started. Let's get out of here," I said, feeling a little nauseous.
When I got back to the office, I told Paula the good news. She was very much relieved and not at all surprised by Tex's wayward ways. In fact, she rubbed in the fact that she had warned me about Tex's lack of moral fiber. After talking to Paula, I went back to my office to face the mail and a pile of telephone messages that would have fueled a good size campfire. As I was rummaging through them, Jodie told me there was a telephone call for me. She said it sounded like Mo, my friend at the CIA.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "I've been worried about you."
"I'm fine."
"Listen. I just wanted to let you know that Robert is alive. He's here with me right now. He's fine and Luther Palmer is with us too. You don't have to worry about them anymore."
"But Robert was kidnapped? I saw his place. It looked like he was forcibly taken away."
"No, he just left in a hurry. He had to be extracted quickly."
"Why?"
"It's a long story and I can't talk much about it by telephone. You just have to trust me."
"Where are you?"
"I can't say. We're about to board an airplane. I just wanted you to know they were both okay and ask you to end your search for them."
"Okay. Where are you going?"
"Like I said. I can't say. Just forget about us. You did your job. I'm sorry they tried to kill you. I was able to protect you this time, but I won't be around the next time."
"Who's they?"
"The people who don't want the truth to be known."
"What truth?"
"If you look in your right coat pocket of your tan sport coat you'll find a key. Robert slipped it there when you weren't looking. It's a lockbox at DFW. We've left you something for your time and trouble. Don't give it to the FBI this time. I've got to hang up now in case they've got your line tapped. Read the newspaper and you'll probably be able to figure what's been happening. . . . Oh, by the way. Robert is the one who got the money out of the Metroplex account, thanks to you. You're a good attorney."
"What about Congressman Manning?"
"He's a friend. Leave him alone and stay away from Washington."
"Oookay, but what do I tell the FBI?"
"Nothing. Don't mention this phone call. Just forget you ever met Robert Huntington. I'm serious. If you keep pushing this investigation, they'll kill you."
The phone went dead. I held it a moment in shock and then slowly hung it up. Was this for real? What did he mean he was able to protect me? Why do they want to kill me? Then I thought about the window shattering just before the car exploded. That was odd. Mo must have known the car was rigged to explode, so he shot out the window to warn me and to prematurely trigger the explosion. He had saved my life. As I was playing the conversation back in my head, I remembered Mo's mention of a key. My brown sports coat was at home. I'd have run home before I went to DFW.
Black Monday, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 7 Page 36