Stuart Woods - Choke

“So he knew Marinello well, huh? Perfect.”

“Perfect is always good,” Rita said.

The offices of Winfield & Carrington were like a movie set for a white-shoe law firm. There was lots of shiny paneling, and the furniture looked as if it were out of the Rockefellers’ attic. The receptionist was middle-aged and plump; nothing flashy for Winfield & Carrington. After a ten-minute wait they were shown into a corner office.

Winfield rose to meet them. He was sixtyish, widening at the middle, gray at the temples, and beautifully tailored. He was also very gracious.

“Please sit down, Ms. Cortez, Mr. Sculley.” He directed them to a grouping of sofas and chairs, rather than facing them across his desk. “Ms. Cortez, I was so very sorry to hear of Mr. Carman’s death. He always struck me as an extremely competent man.”

“Thank you, Mr. Winfield,” Rita replied. “I wanted you to know that since Barry and I were partners, I will now be running the firm.”

“Oh, good,” he said. “I hope we can send some work your way.” He turned to Tommy. “Tell me, Mr. Sculley, are you a private investigator as well?”

“No, sir,” Tommy said. “I’m a police officer in South Florida.”

Winfield blinked but recovered quickly. “Are you the investigating officer in Mr. Carman’s case?”

“No, sir, I’m involved in a more tangential way,” Tommy replied. “In fact, my visit here is entirely unofficial and off the record.”

“I see,” Winfield said, obviously not seeing at all. “And what can I do for you?”

“I’m aware of Barry Carman’s work for you, and…”

Winfield turned to Rita, and his voice was icy. “You brought the police into this?”

“Oh, no, sir,” Tommy said quickly, stepping in to save Rita, “nothing like that at all. I assure you, there is no official interest in your relationship to Barry Carman or his firm.”

“Oh, good,” Winfield said, relaxing a bit. “So what is your interest in this matter?”

“During Mr. Carman’s investigation of… the missing person in question, he came to me unofficially to check out some things. I wasn’t able to give him any pertinent information, but when I heard of the manner of his death, I looked into it, and it occurred to me that there might be a direct connection between Mr. Carman’s death and the matter he was pursuing.”

“It was my impression that Mr. Carman met his death as the result of one of those ugly tourist killings that seem to be plaguing Florida these days.”

“I’m inclined to think that’s not the case, sir, although I believe some effort was made to make it appear to be such a murder.”

“That’s very interesting,” Winfield said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Also, it appears there might possibly be a connection between the missing person in question…”

“His name is Marin,” Winfield said; “you may use it.”

“Between Mr. Marin and another case I’m investigating.”

“And what case would that be, Mr. Sculley?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss it at this stage, sir, but I believe that if I were able to locate Mr. Marin, it might materially help my investigation.”

“Is Marin a suspect in your case? I mean, should you find him would you wish to arrest and try him?”

“No, sir, it’s not that kind of connection. I just believe Marin could be of help in resolving a difficult case. Actually, it’s a long shot, but you and I may have some mutual interests.”

“Should you find Marin, what would be your course of action?”

“I would detain him on a minor charge and notify Ms. Cortez immediately.”

“And how long would he be likely to be in custody?”

“I could hold on to him for twenty-four hours, maybe more.”

“I see,” Winfield said. “And what do you want of me?”

“As I understand it, you knew Mr. Marin well. It would be of great assistance to me if you could tell me as much as possible about him.”

“May I have your word that you have no other official interest in Marin than to question him in your other case?”

“You have it, sir.”

“Very well. What would you like to know?”

“When did you first meet Mr. Marin?”

“Our families knew each other when we were very young, and we were both at Stanford; he was a couple of years ahead of me in law school. When I graduated I went to see him, and he helped me gain a position in the firm he was working for at the time. Later we left together and opened this firm. We did very well. After many successful years together we occasioned to have a very large amount of money in the firm’s trust account, as the result of a real estate transaction we had just closed. Before the funds could be transferred to the client, Marin raided the trust account and decamped with the funds.”

“May I ask how much he took?”

“That’s not really important; let’s say many millions of dollars.”

“You went to the police, of course.”

“I did not. If I had done so the resulting publicity would have destroyed the firm. I made arrangements to replace the funds-with great difficulty, I might add-and our clients were simply told that Marin had taken his own life, a notion which he took some pains to further.”

“If you’ll forgive me saying so, sir, that’s extraordinary.”

“I’m aware of that; nevertheless, it’s what I did. To this day, I do not wish for any client of mine to know that a member of this firm behaved in such a manner. That is why I hired Mr. Carman, so that this matter might be resolved in a private manner.”

“And if Marin is found, how do you intend to resolve it?”

“That question, Mr. Sculley, is outside the parameters of this discussion. Now, what else do you wish to know about Marin?”

Ground broken, Tommy took out his notebook and began in earnest. “Let’s begin with a description; height and weight, et cetera?”

“Six-two, about two hundred and forty pounds, thick dark hair, brown eyes.”

“Did you ever know him to be slimmer than two-forty?”

“He was always beefy, muscular, an athlete.”

“What sports?”

“In high school he played football; maybe that’s where the weight came from. Later it was tennis, swimming, golf; he played all three for Stanford. When he got out of college some of the muscle turned to fat, I guess. The only sport he played with any regularity was golf.”

“What sort of personality?”

“Gregarious, charming, very smooth.”

“Did he ever do any scuba diving?”

“No. He did sail, though. He kept a small sailboat at Marina del Rey.”

“What was his taste in women?”

“He liked them very beautiful. His wife was, and although he never talked about it, I suspected he played around.”

“Where’s his wife now?”

“Remarried. It wouldn’t do any good to try and see her; she wouldn’t talk about him. She believes that he took his own life.”

“Any vices? Drink, gambling, drugs?”

“He drank in moderation, didn’t use drugs. He never seemed to be interested in gambling.”

“If he didn’t kill himself, how do you think he managed to disappear so thoroughly?”

“I believe he planned it all very carefully. He knew there were times when the trust account would have a lot of money in it. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he’d planned it for years; he was very methodical, thorough.”

“How do you think he could move around such a large sum of money without attracting attention?”

“He was very clever in financial dealings. My guess is he had planned a way to move the money offshore in a hurry, probably to some place with banking secrecy laws like Switzerland or the Cayman Islands.”