jg.thefirm-第64部分

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　　Last　year　he　was　a　hotshot　Harvard　man　with　job　offers　in　every　pocket。
　　Now　he　was　a　millionaire；　and　would　soon　have　a　price　on　his　head。
　　Funny　what　a　year　can　do。
　　Sing　on；　brothers。
　　Mitch　turned　and　walked　away。
　　Around　midnight；　the　taxis　lined　up　on　Madison；　and　the　richest　lawyers　in　town　were　carried　and　dragged　into　the　back　seats。　Of　course；　Oliver　Lambert　was　the　soberest　of　the　lot；　and　he　directed　the　evacuation。　Fifteen　taxis　in　all；　with　drunk　lawyers　lying　everywhere。
　　At　the　same　time；　across　town　on　Front　Street；　two　identical　navy…blue…and…yellow　Ford　vans　with　DUSTBUSTERS　painted　brightly　on　the　sides　pulled　up　to　the　gate。　Dutch　Hendrix　opened　it　and　waved　them　through。　They　backed　up　to　the　rear　door；　and　eight　women　with　matching　shirts　began　unloading　vacuum　cleaners　and　buckets　filled　with　spray　bottles。　They　unloaded　brooms　and　mops　and　rolls　of　paper　towels。　They　chattered　quietly　among　themselves　as　they　went　through　the　building。　As　directed　from　above；　the　technicians　cleaned　one　floor　at　a　time；　beginning　with　the　fourth。　The　guards　walked　the　floors　and　watched　them　carefully。
　　The　women　ignored　them　and　buzzed　about　their　business　of　emptying　garbage　cans；　polishing　furniture；　vacuuming　and　scrubbing　bathrooms。　The　new　girl　was　slower　than　the　others。　She　noticed　things。　She　pulled　on　desk　drawers　and　file　cabinets　when　the　guards　weren't　looking。　She　paid　attention。
　　It　was　her　third　night　on　the　job；　and　she　was　learning　her　way　around。　She'd　found　the　Tolar　office　on　the　fourth　floor　the　first　night；　and　smiled　to　herself。
　　She　wore　dirty　jeans　and　ragged　tennis　shoes。　The　blue　DUSTBUSTERS　shirt　was　extra　large；　to　hide　the　figure　and　make　her　appear　plump；　like　the　other　technicians。　The　patch　above　the　pocket　read　DORIS。　Doris；　the　cleaning　technician。
　　When　the　crew　was　half　finished　with　the　second　floor；　a　guard　told　Doris　and　two　others；　Susie　and　Charlotte；　to　follow　him。　He　inserted　a　key　in　the　elevator　panel；　and　it　stopped　in　the　basement。　He　unlocked　a　heavy　metal　door；　and　they　walked　into　a　large　room　divided　into　a　dozen　cubicles。　Each　small　desk　was　cluttered；　and　dominated　by　a　large　puter。　There　were　terminals　everywhere。　Black　file　cabinets　lined　the　walls。　No　windows。
　　〃The　supplies　are　in　there；〃　the　guard　said；　pointing　to　a　closet。　They　pulled　out　a　vacuum　cleaner　and　spray　bottles　and　went　to　work。
　　〃Don't　touch　the　desks；〃　he　said。
　　
　　　
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　　MITCH　tied　the　laces　of　his　Nike　Air　Cushion　jogging　shoes　and　sat　on　the　sofa　waiting　by　the　phone。　Hearsay；　depressed　after　two　weeks　without　the　woman　around；　sat　next　to　him　and　tried　to　doze。　At　exactly　ten…thirty；　it　rang。　It　was　Abby。
　　There　was　no　mushy　〃sweethearts〃　and　〃babes〃　and　〃honeys。〃　The　dialogue　was　cool　and　forced。
　　〃How's　your　mother？〃　he　asked。
　　〃Doing　much　better。　She's　up　and　around；　but　very　sore。　Her　spirits　are　good。〃
　　〃That's　good　to　hear。　And　your　dad？〃
　　〃The　same。　Always　busy。　How's　my　dog？〃
　　〃Lonesome　and　depressed。　I　think　he's　cracking　up。〃
　　〃I　miss　him。　How's　work？〃
　　〃We　survived　April　15　without　disaster。　Everyone's　in　a　better　mood。　Half　the　partners　left　for　vacation　on　the　sixteenth；　so　the　place　is　a　lot　quieter。〃
　　〃I　guess　you've　cut　back　to　sixteen　hours　a　day？〃
　　He　hesitated；　and　let　it　sink　in。　No　sense　starting　a　fight。　〃When　are　you　ing　home？〃
　　〃I　don't　know。　Mom　will　need　me　for　a　couple　more　weeks。　I'm　afraid　Dad's　not　much　help。　They've　got　a　maid　and　all；　but　Mom　needs　me　now。〃　She　paused；　as　if　something　heavy　was　ing。　〃I　called　St。　Andrew's　today　and　told　them　I　wouldn't　be　back　this　semester。〃
　　He　took　it　in　stride。　〃There　are　two　months　left　in　this　semester。　You're　not　ing　back　for　two　months？〃
　　〃At　least　two　months；　Mitch。　I　just　need　some　time；　that's　all。〃
　　〃Time　for　what？〃
　　〃Let's　not　start　it　again；　okay？　I'm　not　in　the　mood　to　argue。〃
　　〃Fine。　Fine。　Fine。　What　are　you　in　the　mood　for？〃
　　She　ignored　this；　and　there　was　a　long　pause。　〃How　many　miles　are　you　jogging？〃
　　〃A　couple。　I've　been　walking　to　the　track；　then　running　about　eight　laps。〃
　　〃Be　careful　at　the　track。　It's　awfully　dark。〃
　　〃Thanks。〃
　　Another　long　pause。　〃I　need　to　go；〃　she　said。　〃Mom's　ready　for　bed。〃
　　〃Will　you　call　tomorrow　night？〃
　　〃Yes。　Same　time。〃
　　She　hung　up　without　a　〃goodbye〃　or　〃I　love　you〃　or　anything。　Just　hung　up。
　　Mitch　pulled　on　his　white　athletic　socks　and　tucked　in　his　white　long…sleeved　T…shirt。　He　locked　the　kitchen　door　and　trotted　down　the　dark　street。　West　Junior　High　School　was　six　blocks　to　the　east　of　East　Meadowbrook。　Behind　the　redbrick　classrooms　and　gymnasium　was　the　baseball　field；　and　farther　away　at　the　end　of　a　dark　driveway　was　the　football　field。　A　cinder　track　circled　the　field；　and　was　a　favorite　of　local　joggers。
　　But　not　at　11　P。M。；　especially　with　no　moon。　The　track　was　deserted；　and　that　was　fine　with　Mitch。　The　spring　air　was　light　and　cool；　and　he　finished　the　first　mile　in　eight　minutes。　He　began　walking　a　lap。　As　he　passed　the　aluminum　bleachers　on　the　home　side；　he　saw　someone　from　the　corner　of　his　eye。　He　kept　walking。
　　〃Pssssssst。〃
　　Mitch　stopped。　〃Yeah。　Who　is　it？〃
　　A　hoarse；　scratchy　voice　replied；　〃Joey　Morolto。〃
　　Mitch　started　for　the　bleachers。　〃Very　funny；　Tarrance。　Am　I　clean？〃
　　〃Sure；　you're　clean。　Laney's　sitting　up　there　in　a　school　bus　with　a　flashlight。　He　flashed　green　when　you　passed；　and　if　you　see　something　red　flash；　get　back　to　the　track　and　make　like　Carl　Lewis。〃
　　They　walked　to　the　top　of　the　bleachers　and　into　the　unlocked　press　box。　They　sat　on　stools　in　the　dark　and　watched　the　school。　The　buses　were　parked　in　perfect　order　along　the　driveway。
　　〃Is　this　private　enough　for　you？〃　Mitch　asked。
　　〃It'll　do。　Who's　the　girl？〃
　　〃I　know　you　prefer　to　meet　in　daylight；　preferably　where　a　crowd　has　gathered；　say　like　a　fast…food　joint　or　a　Korean　shoe　store。　But　I　like　these　places　better。〃
　　〃Great。　Who's　the　girl？〃
　　〃Pretty　clever；　huh？〃
　　〃Good　idea。　Who　is　she？〃
　　〃An　employee　of　mine。〃
　　〃Where'd　you　find　her？〃
　　〃What　difference　does　it　make？　Why　are　you　always　asking　questions　that　are　irrelevant？〃
　　〃Irrelevant？　I　get　a　call　today　from　some　woman　I've　never　met；　tells　me　she　needs　to　talk　to　me　about　a　little　matter　at　the　Bendini　Building；　says　we　gotta　change　phones；　instructs　me　to　go　to　a　certain　pay　phone　outside　a　certain　grocery　store　and　be　there　at　a　certain　time；　and　she'll　call　exactly　at　one…thirty。　And　I　go　there；　and　she　calls　at　exactly　one…thirty。　Keep　in　mind；　I've　got　three　men　within　a　hundred　feet　of　the　phone　watching　everybody　that　moves。　And　she　tells　me　to　be　here　at　exactly　ten　forty…five　tonight；　to　have　the　place　sealed　off；　and　that　you'll　e　trotting　by。〃
　　〃Worked；　didn't　it？〃
　　〃Yeah；　so　far。　But　who　is　she？　I　mean；　now　you　got　someone　else　involved；　and　that　really　worries　me；　McDeere。　Who　is　she　and　how　much　does　she　know？〃
　　〃Trust　me；　Tarrance。　She's　my　employee　and　she　knows　everything。　In　fact；　if　you　knew　what　she　knows　you'd　be　serving　indictments　right　now　instead　of　sitting　here　bitching　about　her。〃
　　Tarrance　breathed　deeply　and　thought　about　it。　〃Okay；　so　tell　me　what　she　knows。〃
　　〃She　knows　that　in　the　last　three　years　the　Morolto　gang　and　its　acplices　have　taken　over　eight　hundred　million　bucks　in　cash　out　of　this　country　and　deposited　it　in　various　banks　in　the　Caribbean。　She　knows　which　banks；　which　accounts；　the。　dates；　a　bunch　of　stuff。　She　knows　that　the　Moroltos　control　at　least　three　hundred　and　fifty　panies　chartered　in　the　Caymans；　and　that　these　panies　regularly　send　clean　money　back　into　the　country。　She　knows　the　dates　and　amounts　of　the　wire　transfers。　She　knows　of　at　least　forty　U。S。　corporations　owned　by　Cayman　corporations　owned　by　the　Moroltos。　She　knows　a　helluva　lot；　Tarrance。　She's　a　very　knowledgeable　woman；　don't　you　think？〃
　　Tarrance　could　not　speak。　He　stared　fiercely　into　the　darkness　up　the　driveway。
　　Mitch　found　it　enjoyable。　〃She　knows　how　they　take　their　dirty　cash；　trade　it　up　to　one…hundred…dollar　bills　and　sneak　it　out　of　the　country。〃
　　〃How？〃
　　〃　Lear；　of　course。　But　they　also　mule　it。　They've　got　a　small　army　of　mules；　usually　their　minimum…wage　thugs　and　their　girlfriends；　but　also　students　and　other　freelancers；　and　they'll　give　them　ninety…eight　hundred　in　cash　and　buy　them　a　ticket　to　the　Caymans　or　the　Bahamas。　No　declarations　are　required　for　amounts　under　ten　thousand；　you　understand。　And　the　mules　will　fly　down　like　regular　tourists　with　pockets　full　of　cash　and　take　the　money　to　their　banks。　Doesn't　sound　like　much　money；　but　you　get　three　hundred　people　making　twenty　trips　a　year；　and　that's　some　serious　cash　walking　out　of　the　country。　It's　also　called　smurfing；　you　know。〃
　　Tarrance　nodded　slightly；　as　if　he　knew。
　　〃A　lot　of　folks　wanna　be　smurfers　when　they　can　get　free　vacations　and　spending　money。　Then　they've　got　their　super　mules。　These　are　the　trusted　Morolto　people　who　take　a　million　bucks　in　cash；　wrap　it　up　real　neat　in　newspaper　so　the　airport　machines　won't　see　it；　put　it　in　big　briefcases　an