jg.thefirm-第62部分

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nd　weary　tourists　returning　from　the　sun…drenched　beaches　of　the　Caribbean。　In　front　of　her　were　two　ill…tempered　newly…weds　carrying　bags　of　duty…free　liquor　and　perfume　and　obviously　in　the　middle　of　a　serious　disagreement。　Behind　her　were　two　brand…new　Hartman　leather　suitcases　filled　with　enough　documents　and　records　to　indict　forty　lawyers。　Her　employer；　also　a　lawyer；　had　suggested　she　purchase　luggage　with　little　wheels　on　the　bottom　so　they　could　be　pulled　through　the　Miami　International　Airport。　She　also　had　a　small　overnight　bag　with　a　few　clothes　and　a　toothbrush；　to　look　legitimate。
　　About　every　ten　minutes；　the　young　couple　moved　forward　six　inches；　and　Tammy　followed　with　her　baggage。　An　hour　after　she　entered　the　line；　she　made　it　to　the　checkpoint。
　　〃No　declarations！〃　the　agent　snapped　in　broken　English。
　　〃No！〃　she　snapped　back。
　　He　nodded　at　the　big　leather　bags。　〃What's　in　there？〃
　　〃Papers。〃
　　〃Papers？〃
　　〃Papers。〃
　　〃What　kind　of　papers？〃
　　Toilet　paper；　she　thought；　I　spend　my　vacations　traveling　the　Caribbean　collecting　toilet　paper。　〃Legal　documents；　crap　like　that。　I'm　a　lawyer。〃
　　〃Yeah；　yeah。〃　He　unzipped　the　overnight　bag　and　glanced　in。　〃Okay。　Next！〃
　　She　carefully　pulled　the　bags；　just　so。　They　were　inclined　to　tip　over。　A　bellboy　grabbed　them　and　loaded　all　three　pieces　onto　a　two…wheeler。　〃Delta　Flight　282；　to　Nashville。　Gate　44；　Concourse　B；〃　she　said　as　she　handed　him　a　five…dollar　bill。
　　Tammy　and　all　three　bags　arrived　in　Nashville　at　midnight　Saturday。　She　loaded　them　into　her　Rabbit　and　left　the　airport。　In　the　suburb　of　Brentwood；　she　parked　in　her　designated　parking　place　and；　one　at　a　time；　pulled　the　Hartmans　into　a　one…bedroom　apartment。
　　Except　for　a　rented　foldaway　sofa；　there　was　no　furniture。　She　unpacked　the　suitcases　in　the　bedroom　and　began　the　tedious　process　of　arranging　the　evidence。　Mitch　wanted　a　list　of　each　document；　each　bank　record；　each　corporation。　He　wanted　it　just　so。　He　said　one　day　he　would　pass　through　in　a　great　hurry；　and　he　wanted　it　all　organized。
　　For　two　hours　she　took　inventory。　She　sat　on　the　floor　and　made　careful　notes。　After　three　one…day　trips　to　Grand　Cayman；　the　room　was　beginning　to　fill。　Monday　she　would　leave　again。
　　She　felt　like　she'd　slept　three　hours　in　the　past　two　weeks。　But　it　was　urgent；　he　said。　A　matter　of　life　and　death。
　　Tarry　Ross；　alias　Alfred；　sat　in　the　darkest　corner　of　the　lounge　of　the　Washington　Phoenix　Park　Hotel。　The　meeting　would　be　terribly　brief。　He　drank　coffee　and　waited　on　his　guest。
　　He　waited　and　vowed　to　wait　only　five　more　minutes。　The　cup　shook　when　he　tried　to　sip　it。　Coffee　splashed　on　the　table。　He　looked　at　the　table　and　tried　desperately　not　to　look　around。　He　waited。
　　His　guest　arrived　from　nowhere　and　sat　with　his　back　to　the　wall。　His　name　was　Vinnie　Cozzo；　a　thug　from　New　York。　From　the　Palumbo　family。
　　Vinnie　noticed　the　shaking　cup　and　the　spilled　coffee。　〃Relax；　Alfred。　This　place　is　dark　enough。〃
　　〃What　do　you　want？〃　Alfred　hissed。
　　〃I　wanna　drink。〃
　　〃No　time　for　drinks。　I'm　leaving。〃
　　〃Settle　down；　Alfred。　Relax；　pal。　There　ain't　three　people　in　here。〃
　　〃What　do　you　want？〃　he　hissed　again。
　　〃Just　a　little　information。〃
　　〃It'll　cost　you。〃
　　〃It　always　does。〃　A　waiter　ventured　by；　and　Vinnie　ordered　Chivas　and　water。
　　〃How's　my　pal　Denton　Voyles？〃　Vinnie　asked。
　　〃Kiss　my　ass；　Cozzo。　I'm　leaving。　I'm　walking　outta　here。〃
　　〃Okay；　pal。　Relax。　I　just　need　some　info。〃
　　〃Make　it　quick。〃　Alfred　scanned　the　lounge。　His　cup　was　empty；　most　of　it　on　the　table。
　　The　Chivas　arrived；　and　Vinnie　took　a　good　drink。　〃Gotta　little　situation　down　in　Memphis。　Some　of　the　boys're　sorta　worried　about　it。　Ever　hear　of　the　Bendini　firm？〃
　　Instinctively；　Alfred　shook　his　head　in　the　negative。　Always　say　no；　at　first。　Then；　after　careful　digging；　return　with　a　nice　little　report　and　say　yes。　Yes；　he'd　heard　of　the　Bendini　firm　and　their　prized　client。　Operation　Laundromat。　Voyles　himself　had　named　it　and　was　so　proud　of　his　creativity。
　　Vinnie　took　another　good　drink。　〃Well；　there's　a　guy　down　there　named　McDeere；　Mitchell　McDeere；　who　works　for　this　Bendini　firm；　and　we　suspect　he's　also　playing　grab…ass　with　your　people。　Know　what　I　mean？　We　think　he's　selling　info　on　Bendini　to　the　feds。　Just　need　to　know　if　it's　true。　That's　all。〃
　　Alfred　listened　with　a　straight　face；　although　it　was　not　easy。　He　knew　McDeere's　blood　type　and　his　favorite　restaurant　in　Memphis。　He　knew　that　McDeere　had　talked　to　Tarrance　half　a　dozen　times　now　and　that　tomorrow；　Tuesday；　McDeere　would　bee　a　millionaire。　Piece　of　cake。
　　〃I'll　see　what　I　can　do。　Let's　talk　money。〃
　　Vinnie　lit　a　Salem　Light。　〃Well；　Alfred；　it's　a　serious　matter。　I　ain't　gonna　lie。　Two　hundred　thousand　cash。〃
　　Alfred　dropped　the　cup。　He　pulled　a　handkerchief　from　his　rear　pocket　and　furiously　rubbed　his　glasses。　〃Two　hundred？　Cash？〃
　　〃That's　what　I　said。　What'd　we　pay　you　last　time？〃
　　〃Seventy…five。〃
　　〃See　what　I　mean？　It's　pretty　damned　serious；　Alfred。　Can　you　do　it？〃
　　〃Yes。〃
　　〃When？〃
　　〃Give　me　two　weeks。〃
　　　
　　　29
　　A　WEEK　before　April　15；　the　workaholics　at　Bendini；　Lambert　&　Locke　reached　maximum　stress　and　ran　at　full　throttle　on　nothing　but　adrenaline。　And　fear。　Fear　of　missing　a　deduction　or　a　write…off　or　some　extra　depreciation　that　would　cost　a　rich　client　an　extra　million　or　so。　Fear　of　picking　up　the　phone　and　calling　the　client　and　informing　him　that　the　return　was　now　finished　and；　sorry　to　say；　an　extra　eight　hundred　thousand　was　due。　Fear　of　not　finishing　by　the　fifteenth　and　being　forced　to　file　extensions　and　incurring　penalties　and　interest。　The　parking　lot　was　full　by　6　A。M。　The　secretaries　worked　twelve　hours　a　day。　Tempers　were　short。　Talk　was　scarce　and　hurried。
　　With　no　wife　to　go　home　to；　Mitch　worked　around　the　clock。　Sonny　Capps　had　cursed　and　berated　Avery　because　he　owed　450；000。　On　earned　ine　of　six　million。　Avery　had　cursed　Mitch；　and　together　they　plowed　through　the　Capps　files　again；　digging　and　cursing。　Mitch　created　two　very　questionable　write…offs　that　lowered　it　to　320；000。　Capps　said　he　was　considering　a　new　tax　firm。　One　in　Washington。
　　With　six　days　to　go；　Capps　demanded　a　meeting　with　Avery　in　Houston。　The　Lear　was　available；　and　Avery　left　at　midnight。　Mitch　drove　him　to　the　airport；　receiving　instructions　along　the　way。
　　Shortly　after　1：30　A。M。；　he　returned　to　the　office。　Three　Mercedeses；　a　BMW　and　a　Jaguar　were　scattered　through　the　parking　lot。　The　security　guard　opened　the　rear　door；　and　Mitch　rode　the　elevator　to　the　fourth　floor。　As　usual；　Avery　locked　his　office　door。　The　partners'　doors　were　always　locked。　At　the　end　of　the　hall；　a　voice　could　be　heard。　Victor　Milligan；　head　of　tax；　sat　at　his　desk　and　said　ugly　things　to　his　puter。　The　other　offices　were　dark　and　locked。
　　Mitch　held　his　breath　and　stuck　a　key　into　Avery's　door。　The　knob　turned；　and　he　was　inside。　He　switched　on　all　the　lights　and　went　to　the　small　conference　table　where　he　and　his　partner　had　spent　the　day　and　most　of　the　night。　Files　were　stacked　like　bricks　around　the　chairs。　Papers　thrown　here　and　there。　IRS　Reg。　books　were　piled　on　top　of　each　other。
　　Mitch　sat　at　the　table　and　continued　his　research　for　Capps。　According　to　the　FBI　notebook；　Capps　was　a　legitimate　businessman　who　had　used　　for　at　least　eight　years。　The　Fibbies　weren't　interested　in　Sonny　Capps。
　　After　an　hour；　the　talking　stopped　and　Milligan　closed　and　locked　the　door。　He　took　the　stairs　without　saying　good　night。　Mitch　quickly　checked　each　office　on　the　fourth　floor；　then　the　third。　All　empty。　It　was　almost　3　A。M。
　　Next　to　the　bookshelves　on　one　wall　of　Avery's　office；　four　solid…oak　file　cabinets　sat　undisturbed。　Mitch　had　noticed　them　for　months　but　had　never　seen　them　used。　The　active　files　were　kept　in　three　metal　cabinets　next　to　the　window。　Secretaries　dug　through　these；　usually　while　Avery　yelled　at　them。　He　locked　the　door　behind　him　and　walked　to　the　oak　cabinets。　Locked；　of　course。　He　had　narrowed　it　down　to　two　small　keys；　each　less　than　an　inch　long。　The　first　one　fit　the　first　cabinet；　and　he　opened　it。
　　From　Tammy's　inventory　of　the　contraband　in　Nashville；　he　had　memorized　many　of　the　names　of　the　Cayman　panies　operating　with　dirty　money　that　was　now　clean。　He　thumbed　through　the　files　in　the　top　drawer；　and　the　names　jumped　at　him。　Dunn　Lane；　Ltd。；　Eastpointe；　Ltd。；　Virgin　Bay　Ltd。；　Inland　Contractors；　Ltd。；　Gulf…South；　Ltd。　He　found　more　familiar　names　in　the　second　and　third　drawers。　The　files　were　filled　with　loan　documents　from　Cayman　banks；　wire…transfer　records；　warranty　deeds；　leases；　mortgage　deeds　and　a　thousand　other　papers。　He　was　particularly　interested　in　Dunn　Lane　and　Gulf…South。　Tammy　had　recorded　a　significant　number　of　documents　for　these　two　panies。
　　He　picked　out　a　Gulf…South　file　full　of　wire…transfer　records　and　loan　documents　from　the　Royal　Bank　of　Montreal。　He　walked　to　a　copier　in　the　center　of　the　fourth　floor　and　turned　it　on。　While　it　warmed；　he　casually　glanced　around。　The　place　was　dead。　He　looked　along　the　ceilings。　No　cameras。　He　had　checked