Steven Gore - Final Target

“Based on what? Alla can’t get up on the stand. Whoever killed Granger and the Fitzhughs will go after her if she does.”

“What about you?”

“Testify about watching Matson from a distance? It was a silent movie without subtitles-and it would be just as dangerous for Alla because I’d have to expose her role.” Gage looked across the bay toward the Federal Building, but his eyes fell on the clock tower at the foot of Market Street. “I’ve got nothing to delay the indictment.”

“How soon do you think it will be?”

“A day or two. Milsberg left a message that Zink said he’s the second-to-the-last grand jury witness, and they want him in tomorrow. At 10 A. M.”

Peterson called seconds after Gage sat down in his office the next morning.

“Hey, hotshot. I heard you’ve been traveling again.”

Gage didn’t rise to the aggression rumbling under Peterson’s jocular banter.

“A little bit.”

“I also heard Matson’s girlfriend is in town.”

“Ex.”

“Ex?”

“Yup.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I went over to London a couple of days ago and asked her to come. He shouldn’t have left her alone in that big flat.”

“What’s she gonna say?”

“That Matson told her Burch didn’t know what was going on.”

Peterson laughed. “That’s bullshit. Matson told Zink he didn’t let her in on anything. Why would he? He says she was just a plaything and he dangled a green card in front of her nose to keep her around.”

“Then you can add lying to a federal agent to his charge sheet.”

“Yeah, right. If she was such a hot witness, you’d have run the visa through me.”

“Two reasons. One, you’d feed her to the civil lawyers-”

“You’ve got no proof-”

“And two, I’ve got an idea about Burch’s shooting and the Granger and Fitzhugh murders. My guess is that each one happened right after you focused the grand jury on them.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’ve got a leak.”

“That’s a dead end. We already checked it out.”

“By ‘we’ you mean that idiot Zink?”

“You underestimate the guy. He turned his career around with this case. He put the whole thing together from the ground up.”

“That’s a crock. The case was handed to him by an insider at SatTek, Katie Palan. She gave you Matson, then Matson gave you everything else. All Zink did was take notes.”

“Who?”

“Katie Palan.”

“Oh yeah, the woman who sent the letter.”

“That’s how it happened. And she’s dead, too.”

“I heard somebody at SatTek died in a traffic accident. Was that her?”

“That’s her. But it wasn’t an accident.”

“Not again.” Peterson adopted an exasperated tone, and seemed to enjoy it. “You sound normal for a while, then you start babbling like a conspiracy lunatic.”

“We’ll see.”

“What do you mean, we’ll see?”

“We’ll see who’s got a better grasp on reality.”

“Don’t kid yourself, pal. Burch is going down as sure as the sun sets in the west.”

“The sun doesn’t set. The earth rotates.”

“Same difference.”

“Nope. It makes all the difference in the world.”

Gage hung up and called Burch.

“Any news from Geneva?”

“Matson hasn’t tried to move the KTMG Limited money again. He must still think the account’s frozen.”

“Will your banker friend hang tough?”

“I think so.”

“I want you to give him a code phrase. If Matson calls and says ‘looking glass,’ your friend should do what he says. Get ahold of him as soon as the bank opens.”

Gage then called Matson.

“This is Mr. Green.”

“Thank God you called. They froze my money and I-”

“Not over the phone.”

“But-”

“Not…over…the phone.”

“When can we meet?”

“At 3 P. M. The cafe where we first met.”

When Gage walked into the South San Francisco cafe, Matson was sitting in the same booth, staring toward the door and pushing his napkin back and forth on the Formica table. Gage walked across Matson’s field of vision as he approached.

Matson flinched when Gage sat down. “Where’d you come from?”

Gage jerked his thumb toward the entrance.

“You startled me.”

“Tough day?”

“The worst.”

“I called my people in Geneva,” Gage said, settling back into the role of Mr. Green.

Matson sat up like a puppy waiting for a treat, hands on the edge of the table.

“What did they say?”

“The Swiss have what they call an investigating magistrate,” Gage said. “He made Nauru freeze the account.”

“Why?”

“Did you try to move too much money at once?”

“I…I don’t think so. I did exactly what you said. A little at a time.”

“Where’d the money come from?”

Matson sat back, then spread his hands. “I can’t tell you.”

“You mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I know, but I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Because the guy who sent me some of it wouldn’t be happy.”

Gage adopted a stern expression and aimed a forefinger at Matson. “At the moment you need to worry about keeping me happy. You wanted to see me because you needed me to do something for you. Right?”

Matson swallowed, then nodded.

“And I’m not going to be working in the dark on this, understand?”

Matson glanced toward the door, and his voice rose. “But who’s gonna protect me?”

“How much you got in the account? If you got enough money, you can buy all the protection you need.”

Matson looked around the restaurant, then leaned in and whispered, “About twenty million.”

Gage rolled his eyes. “That’s idiotic. Why’d you put that much in one account?”

“It’s the only one I had.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed more accounts?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“What else weren’t you thinking about?”

Matson shrugged.

Gage leaned back in his seat, then folded his arms across his chest. “What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know. I just need my money.”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

Matson fiddled with his spoon, then said, “Five percent.”

Gage laughed. “You want me to stick out my neck for five percent and I don’t even know where the money came from? And worse, I don’t even know if it really belongs to you.”

“Okay.” Matson drummed his fingers on the table, biting his lower lip. “How about ten percent?”

Gage shook his head. “You’re still not thinking. Thirty percent. First and last offer.”

“Six million dollars! To make a call? A helluva Christmas gift.”

Gage shook his head again, seemingly disgusted.

“It ain’t a gift. Six million buys you my ability to make that call. It also means I’m putting myself in the middle of something I don’t have a clue about and I’ll need to watch my back forever because you won’t tell me what I need to look out for.”

“What about me?”

Gage lowered his arms and leaned over the table. “I’ll give you a bodyguard for a week. He’ll help you set up security for after that.”

“Starting when?”

Gage looked at his watch. “Two hours from now.”

“And how much will that little service cost?”

“Not a dime.”

“But how will you unfreeze the money?”

“I know somebody who can get to the magistrate.”

Matson drew back. “What do you mean?”

Gage smiled. “Nobody’s gonna hurt the guy. We’ll just appeal to his sense of justice.”

Matson exhaled. “When can you do all this?”