The Rules Of Silence (11 page)

Before Titus could open his mouth to respond, the Mayan woman appeared in the opened doorway where the balconies led to the buildings next door.

“García, ”she said, “we’ve got Luquín coming in on Mr. Cain’s laptop.”

Within moments they were all standing around one of the desks, staring at the screen of Titus’s computer, reading the incredible message.

Following is a list of enterprises in which you will want to invest and/or contribute. I suggest you begin immediately with 15% of the $64 million you wanted to utilize.

Please complete that transaction within 48 hours of this message.

Follow that with an additional 32% investment of the total within 72 hours.

Marcello Cavatino Inversiónes, S.A., in Buenos Aires will be happy to provide you with the professional services necessary to execute these transactions.

The list of businesses and charities followed. One in Mexico, two in Brazil, one in Lebanon, one in St. Kitts, two in Monaco. Titus stared over the Mayan girl’s shoulder and gaped at the computer screen.

“Bonnie, see if you can find them, ”Burden said to the Asian woman, who was now wearing jeans and a Oaxacan embroidered
huipil.
She went to work on another computer.

Titus stared at the screen and sat in one of the chairs without saying a word. He was shaken. How many times could he be surprised like this? He didn’t know what he’d thought Luquín’s first message would be, but he hadn’t expected this.

“What’s the matter? ”Burden asked. “Liquidity?”

Titus was oblivious. The money. Jesus. He should have written it down on a piece of paper and looked at it. The whole thing had been so unreal that he hadn’t yet focused on what it would mean to divest himself of $64 million—a quarter of CaiText’s net worth. Seeing the beginnings of the process on the computer screen was unnerving.

“That’s nearly ten million dollars in two days, ”Burden said, “and then nearly twenty-one million three days after that.”

“Yes, I can get the ten. I’ll have to work on the twentyone.”

“Okay. Well, we have to move fast now, ”Burden said, glancing at his watch. “It’s three-thirty, for all practical purposes.”

Mattie turned to Titus.

“Luquín’s job here is a lot easier than laundering money,” she said. “With laundering you’re trying to cover up where the money came from. In this case that’s not a problem. Luquín wants to hide where it’s going. So when Cavatino disperses your investments among these seven enterprises, that’ll probably be the last time we’ll really know anything for sure about it. From those places it’ll be buried under an avalanche of trade.”

“García, ”Bonnie said from her computer, “the companies are coming up. All of them. No, wait, one of the charities, the one in Monaco, isn’t showing yet. All the companies are less than a year old. Marcello Cavatino Inversiónes, S.A., has been around three years.”

“Good. Do some work on them.”

But Burden was waiting, still staring at the computer screen with Mattie and the Mayan girl, as if they were all expecting another message. The room was silent except for Bonnie’s fingers snapping on the keys across the room.

The ping of another message was like a gunshot.

“Here we go, ”the Mayan girl said, and the screen flashed a short, terse message.

Charlie Thrush has paid for your stupidity. You should have lived with the surveillance.

Titus was standing again, again staring over the girl’s shoulder. It took him some time—he had no sense of dura tion—to make the two words fit into the context of the moment. Charlie Thrush?

Then Burden asked, “Where did Thrush live?”

The past tense of the question hit Titus like a blow to the stomach. Suddenly he had no moisture at all in his mouth. “On a ranch west of Austin.”

“Where? Exactly.”

“Fredericksburg. Near there. ”He thought he was going to be sick.

“Rosha, ”Burden said, and the Mayan girl swiveled to another computer and began typing furiously.

Titus saw Charlie talking, his lanky frame sprawled in a chair in front of one of his computer screens, his long fingers flapping on the keys as if he were playing the piano, his head half turned as he talked, explaining the theory behind the calculus and the quantum mechanics on the screen. He saw him with his head buried in a book in a small pool of light in a dark room. He saw him handing Rita a wicker basket of his own peaches with a crooked grin, telling her that Titus still didn’t have the knack to grow anything as sweet as these.

“Here it is, ”Rosha said, reading a paraphrasing. “A little over three hours ago the Gillespie County Sheriff’s Office got a call to the Thrush ranch on Schumann Creek. It just says that they responded.”

Titus experienced a sensation of being somewhere else. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then the seat of a chair touched the back of his knees. He sat down. He heard the computer keys snapping snapping snapping. He was weak. Shaky. He listened to them talk as if he were not in the room. He wasn’t aware of looking at anything or even of seeing anything. He wasn’t aware of himself at all, in any kind of context.

“Here it is, ”Rosha said again. “Speer Funeral Home. Accepted the body of Charles Thrush from the Gillespie County EMS half an hour ago. Cause of death: ranching accident.”

There was an awkward quiet in the room. They didn’t know the man. They didn’t even know Titus. What did he expect from them? Weeping? Charlie’s death was as removed from them as a weather report from the Azores.

Burden was the one who broke the silence, his voice soft and edgy at the same time.

“You see how this is going to work, ”he said.

Titus could feel his face burning. His emotions were indescribable, a swarm of embarrassed fear and anger and panic. There was nothing here he could identify with. The indictment of his responsibility in Charlie’s death was unavoidable. Burden had even asked him if Luquín had forbidden the security sweep. Titus remembered his feeling of claustrophobia at imagining he would have to live with Luquín listening to every word he spoke. He remembered saying, I can’t live like that. Well, apparently he could have. And should have. But now, how in God’s name was he going to live with this?

He worked his mouth for moisture.

“Rita’s with Louise Thrush in Venice, ”he said. “I’ve got to get them back here. ”Then, before he had the last word out of his mouth, he looked at Burden in panic. “Jesus Christ. Luquín knows that, doesn’t he.”

He listened to the connections going through, then the phone ringing. It was two-thirty A.M. in Venice. After their conversation she wouldn’t go back to bed.

Burden’s women had made themselves busy, turned away to terminals or absorbing paperwork, a gesture of privacy that he appreciated even though it was only symbolic. Burden himself waited in a chair at the next desk. He had not turned away; he wanted to hear the conversation.

“It can only be you, Titus, ”Rita answered from the edge of sleep.

“I’m sorry, ”he said.

“I know you know what time it is here, ”she said huskily, and he imagined her looking at her watch on the bedside table. “You know, hon, if you’d waited just a few more hours, I would’ve been awake anyway.”

He didn’t really know how to try to make himself sound. It didn’t much matter. In a few more words she’d pick up on it anyway, hear it in his voice.

“I’ve got some bad news, Rita, ”he said.

Pause. He imagined her going suddenly still in the dark, factoring in his words, his tone of voice.

“What’s the matter? Are you okay, Titus? ”Her voice was calm, her “I won’t panic no matter what he says ”tone of voice. Firm, prepared. She would be sitting up in bed now, frowning in the dark, straining to pull the words out of him.

“Yeah, I’m fine, ”he said. “It’s Charlie.”

“Oh, no … ”She was holding her breath.

“He was in an accident today, out at the ranch. He’s dead, Rita.”

“Oh,
no!
”She repeated it. And then she repeated it again. And then again.

He hated this more than anything, doing this to her at so great a distance, handing to her the responsibility of telling Louise, of getting them both packed and on a plane, comforting her for thousands of miles on the way back home.

They talked for half an hour, and he told her the truth: He didn’t know much. He’d try to get more information. He didn’t tell her he was in Mexico, of course. He’d work all that out later. He lied to her, comforted her, planned with her. Rita was best if she was planning. It calmed her; it helped her deal with the unknown, with the unavoidable but frightening unravelings of life.

He told her he was going to charter a private plane to bring them home. She thought this was unusual but didn’t protest too much, and he said he would make the arrangements and get back to her with the details.

It was a strange and wrenching conversation, made all the worse for Titus because he was among strangers. And worse than that, because he knew the truth.

Chapter 16

The subdued tempo that followed the confirmation of Charlie Thrush’s death didn’t last long. It was nearly dusk as Mattie, Titus, and Burden followed the loggia around to Burden’s study. The doors and windows of the large room were still open as before, and it was lighted only by a few scattered table lamps and the low, eerie illumination of the long photograph of the nude widow.

As soon as they were inside, Titus turned to Burden.

“I’m flying back tonight, ”he said. “That pilot had better not think he’s going to be spending the night here.”

“No, ”Burden said. “He’s ready.”

“Okay, ”Titus said, “then let’s get down to it. As far as I’m concerned, you can go after Luquín any way you want to. Just tell me what you need, what I’m supposed to do.”

Burden turned to Mattie. “Will you get the telephones for me? And bring back Titus’s laptop.”

As she walked out the door, he turned back to Titus.

“Look, ”he said, “the first thing I want you to understand is that Luquín and I have this much in common: Silence is our mantra. We have to keep him in the dark about this meeting. He can’t know that you’ve contacted someone for help and that you’re being advised. He needs to believe that your responses to his demands are yours alone, and that you’re totally focused on getting the money he wants. He needs to believe that you’re paralyzed, holding your breath waiting for the next word from him.

“He must not know that we know he’s in Austin. Any hint of that, and he’ll vanish. Keep in mind: The people he works with are very good. They’ve probably been in Austin several weeks getting ready for this. We’re at a great disadvantage, so we have to be smarter. Unflinching. And absolutely silent. Without that we don’t have any hope of success here.

“Second thing: You can’t undo this once it gets started, Titus. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, ”Titus said. He paused. “But now I have. Do what you have to do.”

Burden nodded. “Let’s talk about where you think this is going. Ultimately.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do you think is the end of this, Titus? Where is this headed?”

“I want this guy out of my life, ”Titus said without thinking. “I want this ordeal to end. I just told you.”

Burden had been standing near the bookshelves by the doorway, and now he moved slowly around the room, again roaming through the pools of light, disappearing into the dusky corners, easing along the unlighted spans of the booklined walls, slipping through another pool of light. Finally he stopped and came over to Titus, who had continued to stand near the library table.

“Keep in mind, ”Burden said, “that Luquín has set the rules, and they’re non-negotiable. Go to the police: People die. Don’t pay the ransom: People die. Keep the whole thing secret, or people die. He’s defined the rules of the game. We don’t have much room to operate.”

The two men were looking at each other.

“Okay, ”Titus agreed.

“Let’s say you pay the full ransom Luquín’s demanding,” Burden continued. “Will that be the end of it? Or will he want something more? And if he’s willing to just walk away with what he’s got, are you okay with that? Even though he’s killed people in the process?”

“Then you believe him when he says—even though he has his money—he’ll come back and kill people if I disclose what’s happened? If I go to the FBI after the fact?”

Burden leveled his eyes at Titus. “He wants you to understand, Titus, that he’s in total control here. That’s what Thrush’s death was all about. It was a demonstration of your new reality. He’s gone to elaborate lengths to cover all the bases. You turn this over to the FBI after it’s over, and you’re signing death warrants for a hell of a lot more people. He’s told you. I’m telling you.”

Burden ran his hand through his hair. “Keep repeating that to yourself, Titus. You either accept his conditions or more people die. Then ask yourself this question: If I agree to keep it all quiet, to save a lot of lives, am I okay with this guy just disappearing when it’s all over … with the money … and having killed one, two, three? four? … of my friends?”

“Just get to the damn point, ”Titus said. By now he had a raging headache, and he was agitated and furious and afraid. But he knew what the point was. He really hadn’t thought this through to the hard questions yet. He just wanted to be rid of it all, assuming, in the back of his mind, that in the end, even though he might lose millions of dollars, justice would ultimately be done. As in a movie, the good guys would come in and take care of it.

“The end could get rough, ”Burden said. “I’ll take the responsibility for that. But if I do this thing for you, I don’t want you coming to me with pangs of conscience when it’s looking scarier than you’d imagined it would be. Once I start, I won’t stop.”

Titus’s heart began racing. It was dark outside. He hadn’t had much sleep in the last twenty hours, and the stress he’d been under made the little sleep he’d had feel like none at all.

He moved toward Burden until they were an arm’s reach apart.

“Is there some chance I could end up in prison for what’s going to happen once you start this?”