Indigo Slam: An Elvis Cole Novel (19 page)

The cracker squinted at the bill and nodded. “Yeah, a little too dark.” Afraid that Clark was showing him up in front of Markov.

Markov watched them talk with no more understanding of what they were saying than any of the rest of us, but he seemed to be buying it and that was all I cared about. I said, “It doesn’t matter that the inks are a little off. What we’re talking here is bank-quality notes, counterfeit bills that will fool a bank or a cop or a Secret Service agent. Clark can print some extra for you. You get the money, and he gets his boy and you let them walk.”

Markov stared at me. Probably thinking about his older brother sitting in prison.

I rested a hand on Clark’s shoulder. “And when he finishes this job, maybe you guys can go into business again.”

Markov’s eyes shifted to Clark, then back to me. They went to Clark again. “How much of this paper you have?”

“Eight hundred pounds, like I said.”

“When it’s gone, can you make more, da?”

Clark shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. The chemicals were very hard to get. I won’t lie to you about that.”

Markov nodded, thinking, then looked at the cracker. The cracker shrugged. “It’s good, Andrei. It’s the best I’ve ever seen.”

I picked up the bag and held it out to Markov. “Here. You keep it. You got any doubts, go see how it spends and think about getting more of it.”

Andrei Markov took the bag but didn’t look into it or think anymore. He said, “Five million.”

I looked at Clark. “Can you print five million extra?”

Clark said, “Oh, sure. No problem.”

I smiled at Markov. “How about letting the boy go as a sign of good faith?”

“Don’t be stupid. You’ll get the boy when I get the money.”

I nodded. “And after that Clark and his family are done with it. You give them a pass?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll call Dobcek at the same number when we’ve got the money.”

Andrei Markov nodded again, and then the four of them walked away. I took Clark by the arm and we walked away in the other direction. I said, “You did fine, Clark. We’re going to get your son.”

Clark didn’t say anything. Just past the bookstore he collapsed to one knee and threw up. I waited until he was done, then helped him to his feet.

Now all we needed were the cops.

Joe Pike reappeared at his Jeep five minutes after us, the long gun in its case. I said, “Anyone follow us?”

Pike shook his head. “How’d it go?”

I helped Clark into the backseat and patted his leg. “Fine. Clark, you did fine.”

Clark smiled, but he was tired and weak, and two blocks later he hung his head out the window and threw up again.

We drove directly to my office to make the calls. I wasn’t worried that the feds had tapped the phone because that’s who I was calling. We left Pike’s Jeep in my parking spot, then took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Normally, I would walk, but not with Clark.

I let us in, then opened the French doors for the air. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uhn-uhn.”

“You need the bathroom, it’s down the hall.”

“Thank you.” He sat on the couch and stared at the Pinocchio clock. I took a breath, organized what I wanted to say, then called Marsha Fields. When she came on the line, I said, “Are you familiar with a Seattle mobster named Andrei Markov?”

“No. Should I be?”

“Markov and his organization are in your system. A U.S. Marshal named Jasper is down here now because of him. I’d like to call you back in five after you’ve checked this out.”

She seemed impatient. “Does this have anything to do with your counterfeit money?”

“Yes.”

I hung up and leaned back. Pike was standing in the French doors, watching the city. Clark was on the couch, hands in his lap, breathing gently. He was smiling at the Pinocchio clock and the little figurines. He said, “Your office isn’t what I would’ve expected.”

“Neither are you.”

He looked at me and nodded, and I nodded back. “Thanks again for doing all this.” He wet his lips like he was going to say more, but then he said nothing.

I gave Marsha Fields ten minutes, then called. She said, “Okay, your boy Markov is a real sweet piece.”

“That’s one way of saying it.”

“I understand Jasper’s down here looking for a printer who turned state’s against Markov’s brother.” Marsha Fields had done a lot in ten minutes.

“I can give you Markov for possession of counterfeit currency and for kidnapping.”

“Kidnapping who?”

“Markov is holding Hewitt’s twelve-year-old son.”

“Well, good Lord.” She didn’t say anything for maybe ten seconds. “Is Clark Hewitt printing?” She had done more than a lot.

“Markov’s people murdered a guy named Wilson Brownell four days ago in Seattle. They’re using the boy to try to get to Hewitt, and then they’ll kill the whole goddamned family. Do you want Markov or not?”

“You want something for Hewitt, don’t you?”

“Hewitt will testify for you, just as he did in Seattle, and he will participate to such a degree as will allow you to bust Markov, but his other activities are not to be investigated and must not be questioned.”

Marsha Fields said, “No one can agree to that.”

“That’s the deal.”

I could hear her breathing on the other end.

“I will tell you this much: Clark Hewitt is not printing U.S. currency, and his activities involve no other crime, either civil or criminal. It’s a one-shot deal, and you’ll never have to worry about Clark Hewitt again.”

“How do I know that?”

“He’s dying of stomach cancer.” When I said that, Clark Hewitt did not react in any way. I guess he was used to it.

She took a single breath, then let it out. “How do I know that’s true?”

“Your own doctor can examine him if you want.”

She hesitated.

“Come on, Marsha. You’ll get Markov and half a dozen of his people, and maybe his whole operation. It’s either worth it to you, or it isn’t, and all I want you to do is let Clark Hewitt walk away when it’s over.”

“Where are you?”

I gave her the number, and she told me that she would call back within the hour. It only took forty minutes. She said, “No one is agreeing to anything at this time, but we’re willing to talk about it. Will Hewitt come in?”

“No.”

“You’re really being a prick.”

“He’ll come in after you agree to the deal, but not before.”

“My office at noon.”

We phoned Dak and told him we were on our way in. Pike dropped me at my car, then he and Clark went back to the safe house while I made my way downtown to the Roybal Building. I got there at three minutes after noon. Reed Jasper was there with his red-haired pal from the LA office of the U.S. Marshals, along with a muscular balding guy with little square glasses named Lance Minelli. Minelli was Marsha Fields’s boss at Treasury. The last person there was a chunky African-American woman with gray-flecked hair from the U.S. Attorney’s Office. She was wearing a dark green linen business suit, introduced herself as Emily Thornton, and from the way everyone kept glancing at her you could tell she was the one with the juice. I said, “Man, Jasper, you get around.”

Jasper didn’t offer to shake my hand, and neither did the other marshal. “I knew you had something going with Hewitt. I could smell it on you like stink.”

Emily Thornton cleared her throat. As soon as she sat, the others sat, too. She said, “Special Agent Fields indicates that you have information regarding a man named Andrei Markov.”

“Did the special agent describe that information?”

Jasper said, “Describe. Can you believe this guy?”

Thornton’s eyes flicked to him and her eyebrows went up maybe an eighth of an inch. “You’re here by invitation, I believe, aren’t you, Mr. Jasper?”

Jasper frowned but said nothing. I was liking Emily Thornton just fine. She came back to me. “Ms. Fields did tell me the situation, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

I went through it again, telling her that I could offer them Andrei Markov on a count of possessing counterfeit U.S. currency with intent to distribute and defraud, and for the more serious charge of kidnapping a minor. I told them that I could offer Clark Hewitt as a witness to both counts. Thornton listened without speaking until I was done, and then she said, “Who is this minor?”

“Hewitt’s twelve-year-old son.”

She wrote something on a pad. “Is Hewitt now printing this money?”

“Hewitt is in the Los Angeles area.”

Jasper’s pal said, “Oh, to hell with this guy!” He put his forearms on the table and made a face at Minelli. “Christ, Lance. Fuck this guy.”

Thornton’s eyes went to him. “Would you get us coffee, please?”

He blinked at her.

Emily Thornton repeated herself. “Coffee for everyone, with sweeteners and a creamer of some kind.”

Jasper’s pal’s face went dark red, and he forced out an angry smile, like she was confused about something and he was going to set her straight. “You want coffee, lady, I think you oughta ask someone in the hall.”

Emily Thornton didn’t move, but Lance Minelli said, “Step out of the room, please.” His voice was quiet and his face said absolutely nothing.

The red-haired man opened his mouth, closed it, then abruptly walked out and closed the door. He closed the door so softly that you could barely hear it. I guess he was the one confused.

When he was gone Thornton pursed her lips, and tapped one immaculately enameled nail on the table. “I would think your Mr. Hewitt would come to us anyway, with his son in danger.”

“We’re going to get his son back with or without your help, Ms. Thornton. Your help will make it easier.”

A microscopic smile touched the corners of her mouth. She said, “You were involved with Ida Leigh Washington, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ida Leigh Washington was a woman I’d helped a few years ago. I’d proven that a small group of corrupt police officers had murdered her son, and then I’d helped her recover damages from the city.

The smile broadened for just a moment, then vanished. “Yes, well, I imagine you could get the boy back.” She tapped the nail again. “What is it you want?”

“Clark Hewitt is dying of stomach cancer. He is currently engaged in an activity to earn money to care for his children after he dies. I want him to be able to complete that activity free of investigation or prosecution.”

Emily Thornton shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly agree to that.”

“Then we have no deal.”

Jasper said, “How about we just throw your ass in the tank?”

I spread my hands. “On what charges?”

Jasper frowned and Minelli shrugged. “We could probably think of something.”

“So play it that way if you want.”

Marsha Fields said, “What is Hewitt doing?”

I looked at Emily Thornton when I answered. “He is not printing U.S. currency, or any other paper negotiable in the United States. He is not committing fraud, nor is he engaged in any other crime for which he could be charged.” I spread my hands. “Should you agree to this arrangement, you don’t want to ask any more or know any more.”

Emily Thornton was nodding. “If we knew more, and approved it, we’d be stepping over the line into entrapment.”

“Yes. We want Markov off the board, and you can do that for us. That’s why I’m here. I can get the boy back, but there’s less risk if you’re involved. That’s also why I’m here. But everything that I want to happen is going to happen whether you’re a party to it or not. If you’re a party to it, you get Markov and you’ll bring down his entire operation.” I leaned back and waited.

Lance Minelli said, “How do you see the scam?”

“Markov is going to receive a large amount of counterfeit U.S. currency as ransom for the boy. When I learn the time and place of that transfer, I’ll let you know so your people can be there. You get to arrest Markov in possession of the counterfeit money, and Hewitt will testify against him in the kidnapping.”

Marsha Fields was gently rocking in her chair. She was staring at me, and I could see that she was liking it. She said, “You know, the more funny money Markov has on him, the more we could charge him with.” Everyone looked at her. “He had about a million bucks, say, we could hit him with a manufacturing count, as well as possession with intent to sell. A million dollars would do just fine.”

Emily Thornton said, “That’s dangerously close to plotting an entrapment, Special Agent.”

Marsha Fields blinked at her. “Oh, I wasn’t suggesting anything. I was just thinking out loud.”

“Mm-hm.”

Lance Minelli smiled.

Reed Jasper said, “Markov is responsible for the death of a U.S. Marshal. His organization is suspected in at least fourteen unsolved homicides in the Seattle area.” He shook his head. “I don’t give a damn what we have to do to get Markov as long as we get him.” Way to go, Jasper. But then Jasper leaned forward, and jerked a thumb at me. “But my interest is in keeping Hewitt safe, and I wouldn’t trust this sonofabitch any farther than I can spit. If we go along with this, we should have someone on the site to make sure things don’t get out of hand, and I’m here to volunteer.”

I frowned at him. “What do you mean, on site?”

Lance Minelli looked at Thornton. “I go along with having someone there, Emily. I’d want to make sure Hewitt doesn’t cut and run as soon as he gets his kid.” He shook his head and looked back at me. “I don’t believe this cancer thing for a minute.”

Marsha Fields nodded. “Agreed. I could see my way clear to buy into this, but I’d like to know what’s going on even if we’re not going to follow up.”

Emily Thornton said, “That’s it, then.”

I said, “Wait a minute. I’ve got other people involved, and they may not go along.”

Emily Thornton stood. “They don’t have any choice. I think we can do business here, but only if we have one of our people on the inside to maintain a level of control.” She offered her hand. “That’s
our
final offer, and now you can take it or leave it.”

I stared at her for maybe a thousand years, and then I took her hand and we shook. “I guess we’ll take it, Ms. Thornton.”

She smiled nicely. “I knew you would.”

Juice.