Дэвид Балдаччи - The Collectors

At the end of the two-day period Bagger was $100,000 richer.

“Want to try for five million, Jerry? That’ll get you half a million in interest in forty-eight hours.” Annabelle was casually perched on Bagger’s desk, her long legs crossed, while Leo sat on the couch.

“Only if you hang around until it comes back,” Bagger said.

She winked. “That’s part of the deal, Jerry. You get me all to yourself.”

“So you keep telling me. Where’d my money go, by the way?”

“Like I told you, El Banco del Caribe.”

“No, I mean, what overseas operation did it fund?”

Leo spoke up. “She could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you both. ” There were a few moments of awkward silence until Annabelle laughed. Then Leo and finally Bagger joined in, the latter a little reluctantly.

Two days later the $5-million wire had ballooned by $500,000.

“Damn,” Bagger said, “this is better than printing money.” He was again in his office with Annabelle and Leo. “I know Uncle Sam has got a ton of dough, but how can even the government afford this?”

Annabelle shrugged. “We can’t. That’s why we have trillion-dollar deficits. If we need more money, we just sell more T-bills to the Saudis and the Chinese. It won’t work forever, but it does for now.” She glanced at Bagger and put a hand on his arm. “But if you’re feeling sorry for Uncle Sam, Jerry, you can let us use your money for free.”

He laughed. “My motto hasn’t changed in forty years: Every asshole for himself.”

And a motto never fit anyone better than that one does you, Annabelle thought even as she smiled in mock admiration at the man.

Bagger leaned forward in his chair, glancing at Leo as he did so. In a low voice he said to her, “You ever lose the shadow?”

Annabelle said, “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how good of friends you and I become.”

“I know how we can be really good friends.”

“Tell me.”

“We do a run for ten million, and I get an even mil for my troubles. Can Uncle Sam cover that action?”

“Just wire the money, Jerry.”

“And you stay right here until I get it back?”

“We both do,” Leo said.

Bagger grimaced and spoke in an even lower voice to her so Leo couldn’t hear. “I suppose I’d get in deep shit for whacking him, wouldn’t I?”

“You remember the scum of the scum I talked to you about? You harm him, they show up on your doorstep. I really wouldn’t advise it.”

“Well, damn,” Bagger complained.

“It’s not a total loss, Jerry. In two days you make a million bucks for doing nothing except eating and drinking with me.”

“I wanna do more than that, you know that, don’t you?”

“Jerry, I knew that the first time you tried to put your hand up my dress.”

Bagger roared with laughter. “I like your style, lady. You’re too good for the government. You should come and work for me. We’d take this town to a new level.”

“I’m always open to future prospects. But for now why don’t we work on the next million for you? I want you to be able to afford to keep me in the manner to which I’ve grown accustomed.” She patted his hand, letting a fingernail dig lightly into his palm. She felt the shudder run through the man’s entire body.

“You’re killing me here, baby,” he said in a pathetic whine.

Oh, no, that comes next.

Two days later Bagger was ahead by a total of $1.6 million since he’d run into Annabelle and Leo, never realizing, of course, that the money had come from the $3 million they’d accumulated from the two short cons. Tony had authorized transfer of these “interest” payments from their account into the one holding Bagger’s money. It was similar in concept to a Ponzi scheme, which almost always self-destructed. Annabelle did not intend to allow that result to happen this time.

Bagger’s happiness was palpable, particularly since he believed his dreaded antagonist, the government, was footing the bill. Sitting in her luxurious hotel room, upgraded to the presidential suite by Bagger himself after the latest payday, and awash in flowers sent by the casino king, Annabelle was scanning newspaper after newspaper for the kind of story she wanted, and finally found it. She and Leo could not speak frankly to each other anywhere in the casino. They had to assume that anything they said would be overheard either electronically or by one of Bagger’s spies. Their only form of real communication was subtle hand and eye signals that the two had developed over the years and would not be recognizable to anyone else.

Passing each other in the hallway, Annabelle said good morning and then gave Leo a signal by adjusting a ring on her right index finger. He said hello back and then touched his tie knot and wiped his nose, thereby acknowledging both the receipt of her message and the action he would take.

Before she stepped onto the elevator that would take her to Bagger’s office, Annabelle drew a deep breath. Contrary to what Leo had said, she did have nerves. This last step she was about to take was the whole ball game. If she didn’t pull this off perfectly, everything they’d done over the last several weeks would be for naught. She’d not only lose the money she’d paid Bagger, she wouldn’t live to enjoy her split of the remaining $1.4 million.

She arrived at his office and was quickly ushered in, the muscle having grown accustomed to seeing her around. Bagger greeted her with a hug that she allowed to drift down lower than it should have. His hand reached her bottom, gently squeezing before she removed it. Still, she’d let him go a little farther each time, which she knew was all he really required right now. Smiling, he stepped back and said, “What can I do for my magic money genie this morning?”

She frowned. “Bad news. I’ve been recalled to my field HQ, Jerry.”

“What? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I’m being reassigned.”

“To where?” He looked at her face and said, “I know, you can’t tell me.”

She held up the section of the newspaper she’d brought with her. “This might give you a hint.”

He took the paper and glanced at the article she was pointing to. It detailed the breaking story of a government corruption scandal involving a foreign contractor in Russia.

Bagger looked up at her, stunned. “You go from casinos to dirty contractors in Moscow?”

She took the paper back. “Not just any foreign contractor.”

“You know them?”

“All I can say is it’s in the best interests of the United States that this case never gets to court. That’s where I come in.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Hard to say. And after Russia it’ll be someplace else.” She rubbed at her temple. “You got some Advil?”

He opened a drawer of his desk and handed her a bottle. She swallowed three with a glass of water he poured for her.

He sat down. “You don’t look very good.”

She perched on the edge of his desk and said wearily, “Jerry, I’ve been to so many places in the last year I’ve lost count. If I used a real passport, I’d have gone through about twenty of them. It just gets to you sometimes. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t you get out, then?” he urged.

She laughed bitterly. “Get out? And what, screw my pension? I’ve put in too many years. Even civil servants have to eat.”

“Come and work for me, then. I’ll pay you more in one year than you’d make in twenty with those clowns.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. I like you. You’re good.”

“You like the fact that I just made you over a million and a half bucks.”