The Partner (Page 55)

"Do you have these tapes?"

"Of course. Get this. I have the tape of the conversation between Trudy and Doug Vitrano, in my old office, just hours before my funeral, when they open my lockbox and find the surprise life insurance policy for two million dollars. It’s hilarious. It took Trudy about twenty seconds before she asked, "When do I get the money?"

"When can I hear it?"

"I don’t know. Soon. There were hundreds of tapes. The editing took twelve hours a day for several weeks. Imagine all the phone calls I had to wade through."

"Were they ever suspicious?"

"Not really. Rapley once made the remark to Vitrano that my timing was incredible, since I had purchased the two-million-dollar policy only eight months before my death. And there was a comment or two about how strange I had been acting, but it was harmless. They were so thrilled that I was gone and out of the way."

"Did you tap Trudy’s phones?"

"I thought about it, but then why bother? Her behavior was predictable. She couldn’t help me."

"But Aricia could."

"Certainly. I knew every move they made for Aricia. I knew the money was going offshore. I knew which bank, and when it would get there."

"So how’d you steal it?"

"Again, lots of luck. Though Bogan was calling the shots, Vitrano was doing most of the talking with the bankers. I flew to Miami .with a fresh set of papers declaring me to be Doug Vitrano. I had his Social Security number and other vitals. This guy in Miami has a computer catalog with a million faces in it, and you simply point to the one you want, and presto, that face is on your driver’s license. I picked a face that was somewhere between mine and Vitrano’s. From Miami I flew to Nassau, and that’s where it got sticky. I presented myself to the bank, the United Bank of Wales. The main guy Vitrano had been talking to was a chap named Graham Dunlap. I presented all my fake papers, including a forged partnership resolution, on firm stationery of course, which directed me to wire the money out as fast as it came in. Dunlap had not expected Mr. Vitrano, and he was quite surprised, even flattered, that someone from the firm would make the journey for such a routine matter. He fixed me coffee and sent a secretary out for croissants. I was eating one in his office when the wire came in."

"He never thought about calling the firm?"

"No. And listen, Karl, I was prepared to bolt. If Dunlap had been the least bit suspicious, I would have slugged him, run from the building, grabbed a cab, and raced to the airport. I had three different tickets for three different flights."

"Where would you have gone?"

"Well, I was still dead, remember. Probably to Brazil. I would’ve, found a job as a bartender and spent the rest of my days on the beach. In retrospect, I might have been better off without the money. I had it, and they had to come after it. That’s why I’m here now.

Anyway, Dunlap asked the right questions and my answers came out beautifully. He confirmed the wire was in, and I immediately authorized the wire out, to a bank in Malta."

"All of it?"

"Almost all of it. Dunlap hesitated for a moment when he realized all the money was leaving his bank. I almost swallowed my tongue. He mentioned something about an administrative fee for his services, and I asked him what was customary. He turned into a slimy little twerp, said fifty thousand would be appropriate, and I said fine. Fifty thousand stayed in the account and was later transferred to Dunlap. The bank is in downtown Nassau-"

"Was in downtown Nassau. It folded six months after you robbed it."

"Yeah, so I heard. Too bad. When I left through the front door, my feet hit the sidewalk, and it was difficult to keep from sprinting like a madman through the traffic. I wanted to scream and leap from street to street, but I controlled myself. I jumped into the first empty cab, told the driver I was late for a flight, and off we went. The plane to Atlanta left in an hour. The one to Miami was an hour and a half. The one to La Guardia was boarding, so I flew to New York."

"With ninety million bucks."

"Minus fifty thousand for old Dunlap. It was the longest flight of my life, Karl. I knocked down three martinis and was still nothing but nerves. I would close my eyes and see customs agents with machine guns waiting on me at the gate. I just knew Dunlap had gotten suspicious and called the firm, and that somehow they had tracked me to the airport and onto the flight. I have never wanted to get off a plane so badly in my life. We landed, taxied to the terminal, got off the plane. A camera flashed as we stepped into the gate area, and I thought, This is it! They’ve got me! It was some kid with a Kodak. I practically ran to the men’s room, where I sat on the toilet for twenty minutes. Next to my feet was a canvas overnight bag with all my worldly possessions."

"Don’t forget the ninety million."

"Oh yeah."

"How’d the money get to Panama?"

"How do you know it went to Panama?"

"I’m the Judge, Patrick. The cops talk to me. It’s a small town."

"It was in the wiring instructions from Nassau. The money went into a new account in Malta, then quickly on to Panama."

"How’d you become such a wizard at wiring money?"

"Just took a little research. I worked on it for a year. Tell me, Karl, when did you hear that the money was missing?"

Karl laughed and reclined even farther. He clasped his hands behind his head. "Well, your pals at the firm did a poor job of keeping their little settlement quiet."

"I’m shocked."

"In fact, the whole town knew they were about to be filthy rich. They acted so serious about the secrecy, yet they were spending money like crazy. Havarac bought the biggest, blackest Mercedes ever made. Vitrano’s architect was in the final stage of designing their new home-eleven thousand square feet. Rapley signed a contract to buy an eighty-foot sailboat; said he was contemplating retirement. I heard the private jet talk a few times. Thirty million in legal fees would be hard to hide around here, but they didn’t really try. They wanted people to know."

"Sounds like a bunch of lawyers."

"You struck on a Thursday, right?"

"Right. March twenty-sixth."

"The next day, I was preparing to proceed with a civil trial when one of the lawyers got a call from the office. The news was that there were problems with the big settlement over at Bogan, Rapley, Vitrano, Havarac, and Lanigan. The money vanished. All of it. Stolen by someone offshore."

"Was my name mentioned?"

"Not the first day. It didn’t take long, though. Word got out that the bank’s security cameras had captured someone vaguely resembling you. Other pieces fell into place, and the gossip roared around town."

"Did you believe I did it?"

"At first, I was too shocked to believe anything. All of us were. We had buried you, put you to rest, said our prayers. It was impossible to believe. But, as the days passed, the shock wore off and the puzzle came together. The new will, the life insurance, the cremated corpse-we started getting suspicious. Then they found the office crawling with bugs. The FBI was questioning everyone around here. A week after it happened, it was pretty well accepted that you had pulled it off."

"Were you proud of me?"

"I wouldn’t say I was proud. Astonished maybe.

Perhaps stunned. There was, after all, a dead body. Then, I was intrigued."

"Not the slightest hint of admiration?"

"I don’t remember it that way, Patrick. No, an innocent person had been murdered so you could steal the money. Plus, you left behind a wife and daughter."