jg.thefirm-第82节

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een　contracted　for。　He　gazed　along　both　ends　of　the　Strip　and　left　the　office　with　the　package。
　　After　years　of　dodging　and　hiding；　Andy　had　subconsciously　trained　himself　to　walk　quickly　in　the　shadows；　near　the　corners；　never　in　the　open。　As　he　turned　the　corner　to　cross　the　parking　lot；　he　saw　two　men　knocking　on　the　door　to　Room　21。　The　room　happened　to　be　vacant；　and　he　was　immediately　suspicious　of　the　two。　They　wore　odd…fitting　matching　white　shorts　that　fell　almost　to　their　knees；　although　it　was　difficult　to　tell　exactly　where　the　shorts　stopped　and　the　snow…white　legs　began。　One　wore　dark　socks　with　battered　loafers。　The　other　wore　cheap　sandals　and　walked　in　obvious　pain。　White　Panama　hats　adorned　their　beefy　heads。
　　After　six　months　on　the　Strip；　Andy　could　spot　a　fake　tourist。　The　one　beating　on　the　door　hit　it　again；　and　when　he　did　Andy　saw　the　bulge　of　a　large　handgun　stuck　in　the　back　of　his　shorts。
　　He　quickly　retraced　his　quiet　footsteps　and　returned　to　the　office。　He　called　Room　39　and　asked　for　Sam　Fortune。
　　〃This　is　Sam。〃
　　〃Sam；　this　is　Andy　at　the　desk。　Don't　look　out；　but　there　are　two　very　suspicious　men　knocking　on　doors　across　the　parking　lot。〃
　　〃Are　they　cops？〃
　　〃I　don't　think　so。　They　didn't　check　in　here。〃
　　〃Where　are　the　maids？〃　Sam　asked。
　　〃They　don't　e　in　till　eleven　on　Saturday。〃
　　〃Good。　We're　turning　off　the　lights。　Watch　them　and　call　when　they　leave。〃
　　From　a　dark　window　in　a　closet；　Andy　watched　the　men　go　from　door　to　door；　knocking　and　waiting；　occasionally　getting　one　to　open。　Eleven　of　the　forty…two　rooms　were　occupied。　No　response　at　38　and　39。　They　returned　to　the　beach　and　disappeared。　Professional　killers！　At　his　motel。
　　Across　the　Strip；　in　the　parking　lot　of　a　miniature　golf　course；　Andy　saw　two　identical　fake　tourists　talking　to　a　man　in　a　white　van。　They　pointed　here　and　there　and　seemed　to　be　arguing。
　　He　called　Sam。　〃Listen；　Sam；　they're~gone。　But　this　place　is　crawling　with　these　people。〃
　　〃How　many？〃
　　〃I　can　see　two　more　across　the　Strip。　You　folks　better　run　for　it。〃
　　〃Relax；　Andy。　They　won't　see　us　if　we　stay　in　here。〃
　　〃But　you　can't　stay　forever。　My　boss'll　catch　on　before　much　longer。〃
　　〃We're　leaving　soon；　Andy。　What　about　the　package？〃
　　〃It's　here。〃
　　〃Good。　I　need　to　see　it。　Say；　Andy；　what　about　food？　Could　you　ease　across　the　street　and　get　something　hot？〃
　　Andy　was　a　manager；　not　a　porter。　But　for　five　thousand　a　day　the　Sea　Gull's　Rest　could　provide　a　little　room　service。　〃Sure。　Be　there　in　a　minute。〃
　　Wayne　Tarrance　grabbed　the　phone　and　fell　across　the　single　bed　in　his　Ramada　Inn　room　in　Orlando。　He　was　exhausted；　furious；　baffled　and　sick　of　F。　Denton　Voyles。　It　was　1：30　P。M。；　Saturday。　He　called　Memphis。　The　secretary　had　nothing　to　report；　except　that　Mary　Alice　called　and　wanted　to　talk　to　him。　They　had　traced　the　call　to　a　pay　phone　in　Atlanta。　Mary　Alice　said　she　would　call　again　at　2　P。M。　to　see　if　Wayne…she　called　him　Wayne…had　checked　in。　Tar…ranee　gave　his　room　number　and　hung　up。　Mary　Alice。　In　Atlanta。　McDeere　in　Tallahassee；　then　Ocala。　Then　no　McDeere。　No　green　Ford　pickup　with　Tennessee　plates　and　trailer。　He　had　vanished　again。
　　The　phone　rang　once。　Tarrance　slowly　lifted　the　receiver。　〃Mary　Alice；〃　he　said　softly。
　　〃Wayne　baby！　How'd　you　guess？〃
　　〃Where　is　he？〃
　　〃Who？〃　Tammy　giggled。
　　〃McDeere。　Where　is　he？〃
　　〃Well；　Wayne；　you　boys　were　hot　for　a　while；　but　then　you　chased　a　wild　rabbit。　Now　you're　not　even　close；　baby。　Sorry　to　tell　you。〃
　　〃We've　got　three　positive　IDs　in　the　past　fourteen　hours。〃
　　〃Better　check　them　out；　Wayne。　Mitch　told　me　a　few　minutes　ago　he's　never　been　to　Tallahassee。　Never　heard　of　Ocala。　Never　driven　a　green　Ford　pickup。　Never　pulled　a　U…Haul　trailer。　You　boys　bit　hard；　Wayne。　Hook；　line　and　sinker。〃
　　Tarrance　pinched　the　bridge　of　his　nose　and　breathed　into　the　phone。
　　〃So　how's　Orlando？〃　she　asked。　〃Gonna　see　Disney　World　while　you're　in　town？〃
　　〃Where　the　hell　is　he！〃
　　〃Wayne；　Wayne；　relax；　baby。　You'll　get　the　documents。〃
　　Tarrance　sat　up。　〃Okay；　when？〃
　　〃Well；　we　could　be　greedy　and　insist　on　the　rest　of　our　money。　I'm　at　a　pay　phone；　Wayne；　so　don't　bother　to　trace　it；　okay？　But　we're　not　greedy。　You'll　get　your　records　within　twenty…four　hours。　If　all　goes　well。〃
　　〃Where　are　the　records？〃
　　〃I'll　have　to　call　you　back；　baby。　If　you　stay　at　this　number；　I'll　call　you　every　four　hours　until　Mitch　tells　me　where　the　documents　are。　But；　Wayne；　if　you　leave　this　number；　I　might　lose　you；　baby。　So　stay　put。〃
　　〃I'll　be　here。　Is　he　still　in　the　country？〃
　　〃I　think　not。　I'm　sure　he's　in　Mexico　by　now。　His　brother　speaks　the　language；　you　know？〃
　　〃I　know。〃　Tarrance　stretched　out　on　the　bed　and　said　to　hell　with　it。　Mexico　could　have　them；　as　long　as　he　got　the　records。
　　〃Stay　where　you　are；　baby。　Take　a　nap。　You　gotta　be　tired。　I'll　call　around　five　or　six。〃
　　Tarrance　laid　the　phone　on　the　nightstand；　and　took　a　nap。
　　The　dragnet　lost　its　steam　Saturday　afternoon　when　the　Panama　City　Beach　police　received　the　fourth　plaint　from　motel　owners。　The　cops　were　dispatched　to　the　Breakers　Motel；　where　an　irate　owner　told　of　armed　men　harassing　the　guests。　More　cops　were　sent　to　the　Strip；　and　before　long　they　were　searching　the　motels　for　gunmen　who　were　searching　for　the　McDeeres。　The　Emerald　Coast　was　on　the　brink　of　war。
　　Weary　and　hot；　DeVasher's　men　were　forced　to　work　alone。　They　spread　themselves　even　thinner　along　the　beach　and　stopped　the　door…to…door　work。　They　lounged　in　plastic　chairs　around　the　pools；　watching　the　tourists　e　and　go。　They　lay　on　the　beach；　dodging　the　sun；　hiding　behind　dark　shades；　watching　the　tourists　e　and　go。
　　As　dusk　approached；　the　army　of　goons　and　thugs　and　gunmen；　and　lawyers；　slipped　into　the　darkness　and　waited。　If　the　McDeeres　were　going　to　move；　they　would　do　it　at　night。　A　silent　army　waited　for　them。
　　DeVasher's　thick　forearms　rested　unfortably　on　a　balcony　railing　outside　his　Best　Western　room。　He　watched　the　empty　beach　below　as　the　sun　slowly　disappeared　on　the　horizon。　Aaron　Rimmer　walked　through　the　sliding　glass　door　and　stopped　behind　DeVasher。　〃We　found　Tolar；〃　Rimmer　said。
　　DeVasher　did　not　move。　〃Where？〃
　　〃Hiding　in　his　girlfriend's　apartment　in　Memphis。〃
　　〃Was　he　alone？〃
　　〃Yeah。　They　iced　him。　Made　it　look　like　a　robbery。〃
　　In　Room　39；　Ray　inspected　for　the　hundredth　time　the　new　passports；　visas；　driver's　licenses　and　birth　certificates。　The　passport　photos　for　Mitch　and　Abby　were　current；　with　plenty　of　dark　hair。　After　the　escape；　time　would　take　care　of　the　blondness。　Ray's　photo　was　a　slightly　altered　Harvard　Law　School　mug　shot　of　Mitch；　with　the　long　hair；　stubble　and　rough　academic　looks。　The　eyes；　noses　and　cheekbones　were　similar；　after　careful　analysis；　but　nothing　else。　The　documents　were　in　the　names　of　Lee　Stevens；　Rachel　James　and　Sam　Fortune；　all　with　addresses　in　Murfreesboro；　Tennessee。　Doc　did　good　work；　and　Ray　smiled　as　he　studied　each　one。
　　Abby　packed　the　Sony　video　camera　into　its　box。　The　tripod　was　folded　and　leaned　against　the　wall。　Fourteen　vid…eocassette　tapes　with　stick…on　labels　were　stacked　neatly　on　the　television。
　　After　sixteen　hours；　the　video　deposition　was　over。　Starting　with　the　first　tape；　Mitch　had　faced　the　camera；　raised　his　right　hand　and　sworn　to　tell　the　truth。　He　stood　next　to　the　dresser　with　documents　covering　the　floor　around　him。　Using　Tammy's　notes；　summaries　and　flowcharts；　he　methodically　walked　through　the　bank　records　first。　He　identified　over　two　hundred　and　fifty　secret　accounts　in　eleven　Cayman　banks。　Some　had　names；　but　most　were　just　numbered。　Using　copies　of　puter　printouts；　he　constructed　the　histories　of　the　accounts。　Cash　deposits；　wire　transfers　and　withdrawals。　At　the　bottom　of　each　document　used　in　his　deposition；　he　wrote　with　a　black　marker　the　initials　MM　and　then　the　exhibit　number：　MM1；　MM2；　MM3　and　so　on。　After　Exhibit　MM1485；　he　had　identified　nine　hundred　million　dollars　hiding　in　Cayman　banks。
　　After　the　bank　records；　he　painstakingly　pieced　together　the　structure　of　the　empire。　In　twenty　years；　more　than　four　hundred　Cayman　corporations　had　been　chartered　by　the　Moroltos　and　their　incredibly　rich　and　incredibly　corrupt　attorneys。　Many　of　the　corporations　owned　all　or　pieces　of　each　other　and　used　the　banks　as　registered　agents　and　permanent　addresses。　Mitch　learned　quickly　that　he　had　only　a　fraction　of　the　records　and　speculated；　on　camera；　that　most　documents　were　hidden　in　the　basement　in　Memphis。　He　also　explained；　for　the　benefit　of　the　jury；　that　it　would　take　a　small　army　of　IRS　investigators　a　year　or　so　to　piece　together　the　Morolto　corporate　puzzle。　He　slowly　explained　each　exhibit；　marked　it　carefully　and　filed　it　away。　Abby　operated　the　camera。　Ray　watched　the　parking　lot　and　studied　the　fake　passports。
　　He　testified　for　six　hours　on　various　methods　used　by　the　Moroltos　and　their　attorneys　to　turn　dirty　money　into　clean。　Easily　the　most　favored　method　was　to　fly　in　a　load　of　dirty　cash　on　a　Bendini　plane；　usually　with　two　or　three　lawyers　on　board　to　legitimate　the　trip。　With