back. Sent a lot of people to prison doing that. Same with fires. Your business is going belly-up, so you move all your stock out, then hire a torch. Might get by the arson squad, but the insurance guys were like the pit bulls of detective work.
Insurance companies. Yeah. They had the edge over the cops—a pile of cash outweighs a badge, every time. You can buy more than info with cash, you can buy people. That’s why the DA’s Office spends most of its budget on white-collar crime—mugging victims don’t make campaign contributions.
What I said about a sex jones? A little while back, the Governor lost it all. He started out being the Attorney General—that’s where he made his rep. The guy was no Eliot Ness; he got his name from going after investment bankers, not for racket-busting.
But he was running the biggest racket of them all. Everybody loved it when he made those places cough up zillions. The papers made him out to be this big hero, fighting for the little guy. Most of that money went to the State … and nobody went to jail. Solly told me it was one of the sweetest scams he ever saw.
So this guy had all the momentum behind him when he ran for Governor. Nobody even wanted to run against him. He won in a landslide. Everyone said he’d be the next President.
Then he got caught up in one of those escort deals, and lost it all. That’s why you stay away from a guy with a sex habit. If it’s only a matter of time for them, it’s a sure bet you’ll be doing some yourself.
The gray-cloud man leaned in a little closer. “You wouldn’t have to give up anyone who was in on it with you,” he said. “Nobody on your side at all. Just the owner. He’s the one we want. He’s all we want.”
I just looked at him.
“You pleaded guilty to a crime you didn’t commit. We know why you did that.”
I blank-faced him.
“How would you like to have that rape conviction vacated? Wiped off the books. And full immunity for the jewelry-store robbery.”
“I’d like that fine,” I told him. “The first part, I mean. The other part, I don’t need that.”
“Because you’re going to let the statute run, I know. But a rape charge? A man like you, he wouldn’t want something like that on his record.”
“That’s true, I don’t.”
“What’s the problem, then? You think the locals haven’t already done a KA on you?”
I knew they must have. Too bad for them—I didn’t have any “known associates.” I always wanted to be one of Ken’s, and I was getting pretty close, but I don’t think I ever really made the cut while he was still alive. Now, every fucking punk whose idea of a classy job was a smash-and-grab claimed they’d been with Ken. Me, I would never disrespect him like that.
So I answered the visitor’s question: “What’s the problem? The problem is that I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if the owner was in on the job? You just did it as piecework? Hired labor? Please don’t tell me you weren’t even in on the shares.”
Ex-FBI? I asked myself. This guy knew his way around a pro thief’s mind. At least enough to know I’d take the idea of being hired to carry bags as an insult. Giving me the chance to say something stupid, that was a pro move from his side, I had to give him that.
But “I don’t even know what ‘job’ you’re talking about” is all I said.
“Sure. That’s what I expected. And, between us, I respect you for it. That’s your reputation, Mr. Caine.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right. And even if it wasn’t, you’ve only got a couple more years to go, so I won’t waste your time telling you the men who pulled that drill-through left a lot of evidence behind.…”
He let his words just kind of hang there, watching my eyes again.
It was too weak to even count as a bluff, and he knew it. So he finished up with: “But you’re a pro, and a pro only plays for money.”
“I don’t get what you’re saying.”
“No? Then let me spell it out for you, very clearly: you tell us what we want to know, you walk right out of here. And if what you have to say stands up in court—we’re talking civil court now, none of this ‘beyond a reasonable doubt’ stuff—two