Tarrance."
"Good. Mr. Voyles is about to stroke out because we haven't got Mitch's files yet. The good files. You understand why they're important, don't you?"
"Very much so."
"So we want the files."
"And we want a million dollars."
"Yes, that's the deal. But we get the files first."
"No. That's not the deal. The deal, Mr. Tarrance, is that we get the million dollars exactly where we want it, then we hand over the files."
"You don't trust us?"
"That's correct. We don't trust you, Voyles or anyone else. The money is to be deposited by wire transfer to a certain numbered account in a bank in Freeport, Bahamas. We will immediately be notified, and the money will then be wired by us to another bank. Once we have it where we want it, the files are yours."
"Where are the files?"
"In a mini-storage in Memphis. There are fifty-one files in all, all boxed up real neat and proper like. You'll be impressed. We do good work."
"We? Have you seen the files?"
"Of course. Helped box them up. There are these surprises in box number eight."
"Okay. What?"
"Mitch was able to copy three of Avery Tolar's files, and they appear to be questionable. Two deal with a company called Dunn Lane, Ltd., which we know to be a Mafia-controlled corporation chartered in the Caymans. It was established with ten million laundered dollars in 1986. The files deal with two construction projects financed by the corporation. You'll find it fascinating reading."
"How do you know it was chartered in the Caymans? And how do you know about the ten million? Surely that's not in the files."
"No, it's not. We have other records."
Tarrance thought about the other records for six miles. It was obvious he wouldn't see them until the McDeeres had the first million. He let it pass.
"I'm not sure we can wire the money as you wish without first getting the files." It was a rather weak bluff. She read it perfectly and smiled.
"Do we have to play games, Mr. Tarrance? Why don't you just give us the money and quit sparring."
A foreign student of some sort, probably an Arab, sauntered down the aisle and into the rest room. Tarrance froze and stared at the window. Abby patted his arm like a real girlfriend. The flushing sounded like a short waterfall.
"How soon can this happen?" Tarrance asked. She was not touching him anymore.
"The files are ready. How soon can you round up a million bucks?"
"Tomorrow."
Abby looked out the window and talked from the left corner of her mouth. "Today's Friday. Next Tuesday, at ten A.M. Eastern time, Bahamas time, you transfer by wire the million dollars from your account at the Chemical Bank in Manhattan to a numbered account at the Ontario Bank in Freeport. It's a clean, legitimate wire transfer - take about fifteen seconds."
Tarrance frowned and listened hard. "What if we don't have an account at the Chemical Bank in Manhattan?"
"You don't now, but you will Monday. I'm sure you've got someone in Washington who can handle a simple wire transfer."
"I'm sure we do."
"Good."
"But why the Chemical Bank?"
"Mitch's orders, Mr. Tarrance. Trust him, he knows what he's doing."
"I see he's done his homework."
"He always does his homework. And there's something you need to always remember. He's much smarter than you are."
Tarrance snorted and faked a light chuckle. They rode in silence for a mile or two, each thinking of the next question and answer.
"Okay," Tarrance said, almost to himself. "And when do we get the files?"
"When the money's safe in Freeport, we'll be notified. Wednesday morning before ten-thirty, you'll receive at your Memphis office a Federal Express package with a note and the key to the mini-storage."
"So I can tell Mr. Voyles we'll have the files by Wednesday afternoon?"
She shrugged and said nothing. Tarrance felt stupid for asking the question. Quickly, he thought of a good one.
"We'll need the account number in Freeport."
"It's written down. I'll give it to you when the bus stops."
The particulars were now complete. He reached under the seat and retrieved his book. He nipped pages and pretended to read. "Just sit here a minute," he said.
"Any questions?" she asked.
"Yeah. Can we talk about these other records you mentioned?"
"Sure."
"Where are they?"
"Good question. The way the deal was explained to me, we would first get the next installment, a half million, I believe, in return for enough evidence to allow you to obtain the indictments. These other records are part of the next installment."
Tarrance flipped a page. "You mean you've already obtained the, uh, dirty