The Partner (Page 64)

ARICIA: Yeah, but I made it happen. I, not you, set the trap for Platt & Rockland.

BOGAN: Then why did you hire us?

ARICIA: A helluva question.

VITRANO: You got a bad memory, Benny. You came here because of our clout. You needed help. We put the claim together, spent four thousand hours working on it, and we pulled the right strings in Washington. All with your full knowledge, I might add.

ARICIA: Let’s cut the Senator out. That should save us ten million. Shave another ten million, and that leaves you boys with ten million for yourselves. That’s a much fairer fee, in my opinion.

VITRANO: (Laughing) That’s a great deal, Benny. You get eighty, we get ten.

ARICIA: Yeah, and we screw the politicians.

BOGAN: No way, Benny. You’re forgetting something very important. If not for us and the politicians, you wouldn’t be getting a dime.

Sandy pushed the button. The tape stopped, but the voices seemed to rattle around the room for a full minute. The players looked at the floor, the ceiling, the walls, each trying to savor and record for later the best of what had been said.

With a vulgar smile, Sandy said, "Gentlemen, this is just a sample."

"When do we get the rest?" asked Jaynes.

"Could happen within hours."

"Will your client testify before a federal grand jury?" asked Sprawling.

"Yes, he will. But he won’t promise to testify at trial."

"Why not?"

"He doesn’t have to explain. That’s just his position." Sandy rolled the table to the door, knocked, and gave it back to the paralegal. He addressed his group again. "You fellas should talk. I’ll step outside. Make yourselves comfortable."

"We’re not talking in here," Jaynes said, jumping to his feet. There were too many wires, and given Patrick’s history, no room was safe. "We’ll go to our room."

"Whatever," Sandy said. They were all rising and grabbing briefcases. They filed through the door, through the parlor, and finally out of the suite. Lynda and Linda raced to the rear bedroom for a smoke and a pee.

Sandy fixed a coffee, and waited.

THEY REASSEMBLED two floors below in a double room that immediately became cramped. Jackets were removed and thrown across the pillows of both beds. Jaynes asked his driver to wait in the hall with Mast’s assistant. Matters too sensitive for their lowly ears were about to be discussed.

The deal’s biggest loser would be Maurice Mast. If the federal charges were dropped, he would have nothing to prosecute. A rather grand trial would vanish, and he felt compelled to at least register his objection before the others got started. "We’ll look foolish if we allow him to buy his way out," he said, primarily in the direction of Sprawling, who was trying vainly to relax in a flimsy wooden chair.

Sprawling was only one level down from the Attorney General himself, and this placed him several levels above Mast. He would listen politely for a few minutes to the opinions of the underlings, then he and Jaynes would make the decision.

Hamilton Jaynes looked at T.L. Parrish, and asked, "Are you reasonably confident you can convict Lani-gan of murder?"

T.L. was a cautious type, and he knew full well any promises made to this group would be long remembered. "Murder might have some problems. Manslaughter is a lock."

"How much time on a manslaughter?"

"Twenty years."

"How much would he serve?"

"Five, more or less."

Oddly, this seemed to please Jaynes, a career man who thought trespassers should serve time. "You agree, Cutter?" he asked, pacing along the edge of the bed.

"There’s not much evidence," Cutter said. "We can’t prove who, how, what, when, or where as far as the murder goes. We think we know why, but the trial could be a nightmare. Manslaughter is much easier."

Jaynes asked Parrish, "How about the Judge? Will he sentence him to the maximum?"

"If convicted of manslaughter, I would expect the Judge to sentence him to twenty years. Parole is determined by the prison authorities."

"Can we safely assume that Lanigan will spend the next five years behind bars?" Jaynes asked, looking around the room.

"Yes, certainly," said Parrish defensively. "And we’re not backing off the capital murder. We intend to make a strong argument that Lanigan killed another person so he could steal the money. The death penalty is a longshot, but if he’s convicted of simple murder, he could face life in prison."

"Does it really make any difference to us whether he spends time at Parchman prison or in a federal facility?" Jaynes asked. It was obvious it didn’t make any difference to him.

"I’m sure Patrick has an opinion on the matter," Parrish said, and got a few weak grins.

T.L. especially liked the deal because he would become the sole remaining prosecutor. Mast and the FBI would make a hasty exit from the case. There was a gap, and he decided to shove Mast a bit closer to the edge of the cliff. "I have no doubt Patrick will serve time, at Parchman," he said helpfully.

Mast wouldn’t go quietly. He shook his head and frowned gravely. "I don’t know," he said. "I think we look bad if we do this. You can’t rob a bank, then get caught, then offer to give the money back if the charges are dropped. Justice is not for sale."

"It’s a bit more complicated than that," Sprawling said. "We suddenly have bigger fish to catch, and Lanigan is the key. The money he stole was contaminated. We’re simply retrieving it and returning it to the taxpayers."

Mast wasn’t about to argue with Sprawling.

Jaynes looked at T.L. Parrish and said, "With all due respect, Mr. Parrish, could I ask you to step outside for just a moment. Us federal boys need to discuss something."

"Sure," Parrish said. He walked to the door and stepped into the hallway.

Enough of the chitchat. It was time for Sprawling to close the deal. "Gentlemen, it’s very simple. There are some very important people in the White House who are watching things closely. Senator Nye has never been a friend of the President’s, and, frankly, a good scandal down here would make the administration happy. Nye’s up for reelection in two years. These allegations will keep him busy. And if they’re true, then he’s dead."

"We’ll do the investigation," Jaynes said to Mast. "And you’ll get to prosecute."

It was suddenly obvious to Mast that this meeting was for his benefit. The decision to cut a deal with Patrick had been made by people with far more clout than Sprawling and Jaynes. They were just trying to keep him happy, since he was, after all, the U.S. Attorney for the district.

The idea of indicting and prosecuting a U.S. Senator had enormous potential, and Mast warmed to it immediately. He could see himself in a crowded courtroom playing Patrick’s tapes, the jurors and spectators hanging on every word. "So we’re gonna take the deal?" he said, shrugging as if he couldn’t have cared less.

"Yes," said Sprawling. "It’s a no-brainer. We look good by getting the money back. Patrick stays in jail for a long time. We nail even bigger crooks."

"Plus the President wants it done," Mast said, smiling, though no one else did so.

"I didn’t say that," Sprawling said. "I haven’t talked to the President about this. My bosses talked to his people. That’s all I know."

Jaynes retrieved T.L. Parrish from the hall, and they spent almost an hour walking through Patrick’s offer and examining each of its components. The girl could be released with an hour’s notice. Patrick would also have to pay interest on the money, they decided. What about the lawsuit he’d filed against the FBI? Jaynes made a list of points to cover with Sandy.