The Collectors (13 page)

“Wonderful,” Caleb said sarcastically. “I just hope I manage to live through it.”

CHAPTER 23

"Y
OU WILL RECEIVE AN E-MAIL
from my people,” Annabelle said. She was standing in the operations center at the Pompeii Casino with several of Bagger’s people in attendance. “When you open the e-mail, it will provide you with detailed instructions.”

One of the men spoke up. “We don’t like opening e-mails if we don’t know where they’re from.”

Annabelle nodded. “Hit it with all your antivirus stuff. I’m assuming you’re state-of-the-art.”

“We are,” the same man said confidently.

“Then do like the lady told you and hit it hard,” Bagger said impatiently.

Leo sat in one corner of the room, his gaze resolutely on the other men. His job was to note any degree of suspicion or concern while Annabelle went through her spiel. It didn’t hurt matters that she was wearing a very clingy, short skirt, with no hose and a blouse with the top two buttons undone. Every guy in the room followed each glimpse of her upper thighs and cleavage. And if they were doing that, they weren’t thinking as clearly as they should have been. Annabelle Conroy, Leo had long ago learned, used every asset in her arsenal.

“The only form of acceptable communication will be through the secure Web portal contained in the e-mail. Under no circumstances will you use your phone or fax, both of which can be monitored. Correction,” she added, glancing at Bagger, “both of which
are
monitored.”

Bagger raised his eyebrows on that comment but said, “You heard the woman. Nothing but the Net.” Bagger was no doubt secure in his cooperation because he had an ace, or in this case,
two
aces in the hole. He would be holding Annabelle and Leo until his money came back.

“The e-mail will tell you where and how to send the funds. Two days later the funds will be automatically wired back to your account, plus the interest.”

“And one million becomes one point one million in a couple of days, right?” Bagger said.

Annabelle nodded. “Just like we said, Jerry. Not a bad payday.”

“It better be,” he said ominously. “When can we start?”

Annabelle checked her watch. “The e-mail should be coming over your system right about now.”

Bagger snapped his fingers, and one of his men checked the computer.

“Here it is,” the man said. He hit a few buttons. “I’m just running it through some extra security scans to make sure it’s clean.”

Two minutes went by, and then the IT guy looked up. “Okay, it’s good.”

“Open it,” Bagger ordered.

“You have your own money-wiring capabilities, right?” Annabelle asked, even though her careful background research had already provided the answer.

Bagger said, “Our system is piggybacked right onto the bank’s. I don’t like third parties controlling my money or necessarily knowing where my money’s going. The funds come from the bank right to us, and we send the wire out ourselves. That’s the way I like it.”

I like it too,
Annabelle said to herself.

Ten minutes later $1 million of Jerry Bagger’s money was on its way to a very special account.

Leaving the office, Bagger said to Annabelle, “All right, you’re my ‘guest’ for the next forty-eight hours. Give us a chance to get to know each other better.” He smiled and let his gaze run up and down her long, lithe figure.

“Sounds good,” Annabelle said.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Leo added.

Bagger looked at Leo like he’d forgotten he was part of the deal. “Right,” he muttered.

Over the next two days they ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with Bagger. At all other times Bagger’s men stood outside their hotel rooms at the Pompeii and accompanied them wherever they went. Annabelle also sat up late into the night having drinks with the casino king, but expertly playing off his advances with just enough encouragement to allow the man to remain hopeful. She carefully let out facts of her “history,” with just enough held back to guarantee intrigue and continued interest. He talked a lot about himself, with all the bravado and conceit one would have expected from such a man.

“I think you would’ve made a good spy, Jerry,” she said admiringly as they relaxed on his couch over a couple of martinis. “You’ve got brains and nerve, that’s a rare combination.”

“Look who’s talking.” He slid closer to her, gave her thigh a pat. Then he tried to grab a quick kiss, but she turned away.

“Jerry, I could get into real trouble going down that road.”

“Who’s gonna tell? Look, we’re all alone. I know I’m not a spring chicken, but I work out every day, and I think I’ll surprise you between the sheets, baby.”

“Just give me some time. It’s not like I’m not attracted to you, but I’ve got a lot going on right now. Okay?” She gave him a peck on the cheek, and he finally backed off.

At the end of the two-day period Bagger was $100,000 richer.

“Want to try for five million, Jerry? That’ll get you half a million in interest in forty-eight hours.” Annabelle was casually perched on Bagger’s desk, her long legs crossed, while Leo sat on the couch.

“Only if you hang around until it comes back,” Bagger said.

She winked. “That’s part of the deal, Jerry. You get me all to yourself.”

“So you keep telling me. Where’d my money go, by the way?”

“Like I told you, El Banco del Caribe.”

“No, I mean, what overseas operation did it fund?”

Leo spoke up. “She could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you
both.
” There were a few moments of awkward silence until Annabelle laughed. Then Leo and finally Bagger joined in, the latter a little reluctantly.

Two days later the $5-million wire had ballooned by $500,000.

“Damn,” Bagger said, “this is better than printing money.” He was again in his office with Annabelle and Leo. “I know Uncle Sam has got a ton of dough, but how can even the government afford this?”

Annabelle shrugged. “We can’t. That’s why we have trillion-dollar deficits. If we need more money, we just sell more T-bills to the Saudis and the Chinese. It won’t work forever, but it does for now.” She glanced at Bagger and put a hand on his arm. “But if you’re feeling sorry for Uncle Sam, Jerry, you can let us use your money for free.”

He laughed. “My motto hasn’t changed in forty years: Every asshole for himself.”

And a motto never fit anyone better than that one does you,
Annabelle thought even as she smiled in mock admiration at the man.

Bagger leaned forward in his chair, glancing at Leo as he did so. In a low voice he said to her, “You ever lose the shadow?”

Annabelle said, “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how good of friends you and I become.”

“I know how we can be really good friends.”

“Tell me.”

“We do a run for ten million, and I get an even mil for my troubles. Can Uncle Sam cover that action?”

“Just wire the money, Jerry.”

“And you stay right here until I get it back?”

“We both do,” Leo said.

Bagger grimaced and spoke in an even lower voice to her so Leo couldn’t hear. “I suppose I’d get in deep shit for whacking him, wouldn’t I?”

“You remember the scum of the scum I talked to you about? You harm him, they show up on your doorstep. I really wouldn’t advise it.”

“Well, damn,” Bagger complained.

“It’s not a total loss, Jerry. In two days you make a million bucks for doing nothing except eating and drinking with me.”

“I wanna do more than that, you know that, don’t you?”

“Jerry, I knew that the first time you tried to put your hand up my dress.”

Bagger roared with laughter. “I like your style, lady. You’re too good for the government. You should come and work for me. We’d take this town to a new level.”

“I’m always open to future prospects. But for now why don’t we work on the next million for you? I want you to be able to afford to keep me in the manner to which I’ve grown accustomed.” She patted his hand, letting a fingernail dig lightly into his palm. She felt the shudder run through the man’s entire body.

“You’re killing me here, baby,” he said in a pathetic whine.

Oh, no, that comes next.

CHAPTER 24

T
WO DAYS LATER
B
AGGER WAS
ahead by a total of $1.6 million since he’d run into Annabelle and Leo, never realizing, of course, that the money had come from the $3 million they’d accumulated from the two short cons. Tony had authorized transfer of these “interest” payments from their account into the one holding Bagger’s money. It was similar in concept to a Ponzi scheme, which almost always self-destructed. Annabelle did not intend to allow that result to happen this time.

Bagger’s happiness was palpable, particularly since he believed his dreaded antagonist, the government, was footing the bill. Sitting in her luxurious hotel room, upgraded to the presidential suite by Bagger himself after the latest payday, and awash in flowers sent by the casino king, Annabelle was scanning newspaper after newspaper for the kind of story she wanted, and finally found it. She and Leo could not speak frankly to each other anywhere in the casino. They had to assume that anything they said would be overheard either electronically or by one of Bagger’s spies. Their only form of real communication was subtle hand and eye signals that the two had developed over the years and would not be recognizable to anyone else.

Passing each other in the hallway, Annabelle said good morning and then gave Leo a signal by adjusting a ring on her right index finger. He said hello back and then touched his tie knot and wiped his nose, thereby acknowledging both the receipt of her message and the action he would take.

Before she stepped onto the elevator that would take her to Bagger’s office, Annabelle drew a deep breath. Contrary to what Leo had said, she did have nerves. This last step she was about to take was the whole ball game. If she didn’t pull this off perfectly, everything they’d done over the last several weeks would be for naught. She’d not only lose the money she’d paid Bagger, she wouldn’t live to enjoy her split of the remaining $1.4 million.

She arrived at his office and was quickly ushered in, the muscle having grown accustomed to seeing her around. Bagger greeted her with a hug that she allowed to drift down lower than it should have. His hand reached her bottom, gently squeezing before she removed it. Still, she’d let him go a little farther each time, which she knew was all he really required right now. Smiling, he stepped back and said, “What can I do for my magic money genie this morning?”

She frowned. “Bad news. I’ve been recalled to my field HQ, Jerry.”

“What? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I’m being reassigned.”

“To where?” He looked at her face and said, “I know, you can’t tell me.”

She held up the section of the newspaper she’d brought with her. “This might give you a hint.”

He took the paper and glanced at the article she was pointing to. It detailed the breaking story of a government corruption scandal involving a foreign contractor in Russia.

Bagger looked up at her, stunned. “You go from casinos to dirty contractors in Moscow?”

She took the paper back. “Not just any foreign contractor.”

“You know them?”

“All I can say is it’s in the best interests of the United States that this case never gets to court. That’s where I come in.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Hard to say. And after Russia it’ll be someplace else.” She rubbed at her temple. “You got some Advil?”

He opened a drawer of his desk and handed her a bottle. She swallowed three with a glass of water he poured for her.

He sat down. “You don’t look very good.”

She perched on the edge of his desk and said wearily, “Jerry, I’ve been to so many places in the last year I’ve lost count. If I used a real passport, I’d have gone through about twenty of them. It just gets to you sometimes. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Why don’t you get out, then?” he urged.

She laughed bitterly. “Get out? And what, screw my pension? I’ve put in too many years. Even civil servants have to eat.”

“Come and work for me, then. I’ll pay you more in one year than you’d make in twenty with those clowns.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious. I like you. You’re good.”

“You like the fact that I just made you over a million and a half bucks.”

“Okay, I won’t deny that. But I’ve got to know you. And I like what I see, Pam.”

“My name’s not even Pam. That’s how well you really know me.”

“That just adds to the fun. Think about it, willya?”

She hesitated and then said, “I
have
been thinking about my future lately. I’m not married; my life is my work and vice versa. And I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore.”

He stood and put an arm around her shoulders. “Are you kidding me? You’re gorgeous. Any man would be lucky as hell to have you.”

She patted his arm. “You haven’t seen me in the morning before I’ve had my coffee and put on my face.”

“Oh, baby, just say the word and we’ll find out.” His hand fell to her lower back and stayed, gently rubbing. He reached over and hit a button on his desk console, and the automatic window blinds lowered.

“What’s that for?” she asked, her eyebrows hiked.

“I like my privacy.” His hand moved lower.

Her phone buzzed, right on cue. She looked down at the number. “Oh, hell.” She rose and moved away from him, staring at the screen.

“Who is it?” Bagger asked.

“My section chief. His number comes up all zeros.” She composed herself and answered the phone. “Yes, sir?”

She said nothing else for several minutes and then clicked off. “Son of a bitch, that asshole!” she yelled.

“What is it, baby?”

She paced in a tight circle and then stopped, obviously still seething. “My esteemed section chief has seen fit to change my field orders. Instead of a trip to Russia, I’m being reassigned to—get this—Portland, Oregon.”

“Oregon. They need spies in Oregon?”

“It’s the graveyard, Jerry. It’s where you get sent in my agency if people upstairs don’t like you.”

“How do you go from Russia to Oregon on the same morning?”

“The Russian gig came from my field supervisor. Oregon from my section chief, that’s the next level up. His assignment takes priority.”

“What’s your section chief got against you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m doing my job too well.” She started to say something else and then stopped.

Bagger quickly picked up on this. “Spill it. Come on, maybe I can help.”

She sighed. “Well, believe it or not, the man wants to sleep with me. Only he’s married, and I told him to back off.”

Bagger nodded his head. “The bastard! It’s always the same crap. The ladies don’t put out, they get pushed out.”

Annabelle was staring down at her hands. “This screws my career, Jerry. Portland! Damn it!” She hurled her phone against the wall, where it broke in half. Then she slumped in a chair. “Maybe I just should’ve slept with the guy.”

Bagger started rubbing her shoulders. “No way. Guys like that, you do it once they keep expecting it. Then they get tired of you, or get a new honey. Then zip, it’s Portland for your sweet ass anyway.”

“I just want to nail that little son of a bitch so bad.”

Bagger looked thoughtful. “Well, maybe that can be arranged.”

She looked up at him warily. “Jerry, you can’t put a hit on the guy, okay?”

“I’m not thinking about that, baby. You said he might be pissed because you’re doing your job
too
well. How’s that?”

“I bring in too much money, then all of a sudden people start looking at me to move up. I start moving up, then all of a sudden I’m a threat to his job. Believe it or not, Jerry, there aren’t a lot of women doing what I do. There are some who would love to see another female in a section chief slot. If I keep bringing in people like you and flood our overseas operations with ‘finessed’ cash, it hurts him and helps me.”

“Hell, only in the government sector do you get dinged for
overproducing.
” He thought for a moment. “Okay, I see how we can turn the tables on this bozo.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our next run at El Banco.”

“Jerry, I’m being reassigned. My associate and I are on a plane tonight.”

“Okay, okay. But here’s the deal. Until you leave you can do one last run, right?”

Annabelle seemed to consider this. “Well, yeah, I mean, I have the authorizations. But even a million bucks in
interest
isn’t going to get me this guy’s corner office.”

“I’m not talking a measly million.” He looked at her. “What’s the largest single amount you’ve ‘finessed’?”

She thought for a moment. “Most of the wires are one to five million. But I did fifteen million in Vegas. And twenty mil from New York, but that was two years ago.”

“Chickenshit.”

“Chickenshit? Right!”

“Tell me, what would really hurt this guy?”

“Jerry, I don’t know. Thirty million.”

“Let’s make it forty million. And let’s make it four days instead of two.” He figured quickly in his head. “So that’s twenty percent interest instead of ten. And that comes to eight million to yours truly. A nice piece of finessing.”

“You’ve got forty million in cash?”

“Hey, who do you think you’re talking to? And we had two championship fights here in the last week. I’m flush with green.”

“But why are you doing this?”

“Eight mil in four days is nothing to sneeze at, even for a guy like me.” He gave her neck a rub. “Plus, like I said, you’re growing on me, lady.”

“But I’m still going to Oregon. I can’t disobey orders.”

“Okay, you go to Oregon. But then you think about getting out and coming back here. I’ll even give you ten percent of the eight and set you up nice.”

“I’m not looking to be your kept woman, Jerry. I’ve got a brain.”

“That you do, and I’ll put it to good use. Along with the rest of you.” He ran his hand down her back. “I’ll call down to the boys.”

“But like I said, I leave for Oregon tonight by private plane.”

“I understand that.”

“What I’m saying, Jerry, is there’s no way you’ll have your money back before I leave.”

He laughed. “Oh, the hostage thing? I think we’re past that, sweetie. You’ve made me one point six million and counting, so I think you’ve proved yourself.”

“Only if you’re sure. Forty mil is a lot of money.”

“Hey, the gig was my idea, not yours. I’ll handle it.”

She stood. “I’ve run a lot of these ops, Jerry, and to me it’s just a job.” She paused. “Everybody else they just wanted to know how much, how much. Greedy bastards all of them.” She paused again, seeming to search for the words, though she’d practiced them for a long time. “You’re the first one to ever do something for me. And I appreciate it. More than you’ll ever know.” This was probably the first true statement she’d uttered in Bagger’s presence.

They looked at each other, and then Annabelle slowly put her arms out and braced herself. He immediately crushed his body against hers. She almost gagged on his heavy cologne. His strong hands quickly found their way under her skirt, and she let them stay there, enduring his brutish groping in silence. She so wanted to slam a knee into his crotch.
Hold on, Annabelle, you can do this. You have to do this.

“Oh, baby,” Bagger moaned into her ear. “Come on, let’s do it. One time before you hit the road. Right here on the couch. I’m dying here. Dying.”

“Trust me, I can
feel
it against my leg, Jerry,” she said as she managed finally to pry herself away from him. Annabelle adjusted her underwear and pulled her skirt back down. “Okay, stud, I can see I’m not going to be able to resist you much longer. Tell me, you ever been to Rome?”

He looked puzzled. “No. Why?”

“I rent a villa there every year when I go on my rare vacation time. I’ll call you with all the details. And two weeks from today I’ll meet you there.”

“Why two weeks, why not now?”

“That’ll give me time to report in to my new assignment, and maybe use the forty-mil run to leverage something better than Portland.”

“But my offer to come back stands. And I can be pretty damn persuasive.”

She ran a finger slowly over his mouth. “Show me how persuasive you are in Rome,
baby.
”

The $40-million wire left the Pompeii Casino two hours later. The e-mail that Tony had first sent to the Pompeii’s operations center had a special component to it: ultrasophisticated spyware that had allowed Tony, from a remote location, to take control of the Pompeii’s computer system. With that secret access he had written new code into their money-wiring program.

The three other wires had gone to El Banco, but when they’d sent the $40 million out, it had instead been automatically rerouted to another foreign bank and into an account controlled by Annabelle Conroy. While it would look to Bagger’s people that the money had reached El Banco—a phony electronic receipt would be automatically sent to the Pompeii—not a dime of it would ever come back to him. Annabelle’s scheme had been mainly for one purpose: to get the spyware on Bagger’s computer system. With that done, she was golden. And then she had played her part and let Bagger’s greed and lust bury the man, because the best way to con a mark was to let the mark suggest the con.

Four days from today to the minute, Bagger would grow a little nervous when his money didn’t show up. An hour later he would be getting a sick feeling in his gut. An hour after that he would become homicidal. And Annabelle and her crew would be long gone with over 41 million tax-free dollars to keep them company.

Annabelle Conroy could buy her boat and sail the rest of her life away, leaving the endless cons behind. Yet it was still not enough punishment, she thought as she left Bagger’s office to pack her suitcase. First, though, she was going to take a shower to get the man’s grime off her.

As Annabelle was bathing, she thought again that the money loss was clearly not enough pain for the man who’d murdered her mother over ten thousand bucks that Paddy Conroy had duped Bagger out of. There was never enough pain for that. Yet even Annabelle had to admit, $40 million was a nice start.