Hoffa laughed off the Sun Valley charges. With valid assurance: his chicanery was very well cloaked.
Littell skimmed the books and picked out odd totals. Tiny zeros extended–the Fund was billionaire rich.
Double vision set in. He corrected it with a magnifying glass.
He quick-scanned the books again. Identical numbers kept recurring–in four-figure brackets.
[1408]–over and over.
Littell went through the brown books page by page. He found twenty-one 1408s–including two next to the Spooky Three Million. Quick addition gave him a total: forty-nine million dollars lent out or borrowed. Mr. 1408 was well-heeled either way.
He checked the black book initial column. It was alphabetically arranged and entered in Jules Schiffrin’s neat block printing.
It was 9:00 a.m. He had five hours of study in.
The “Loan %” subhead tweaked him. He saw “B-E” straight down the graph–the- number/letter code decoded to 25%.
He EXTRAPOLATED:
The initials tagged Pension Fund lenders–repaid at a fat but not brutal rate.
He checked the “Transfer #” column. The listings were strictly uniform: initials and six digits, no more.
He EXTRAPOLATED:
The initials were bank account numbers–repaid mobster money laundered clean. Said initials all ended in B–most likely short for the word “branch.”
Littell copied over letters on a scratch pad.
BOABHB = Bank of America, Beverly Hills branch. HSALMBB = Home Savings & Loan, Miami Beach branch.
It worked.
He was able to form known bank names out of every set of letters.
He jumped columns tracing 1408. Right there on the money: JPK, SRJSFNBB/81 1512404.
SFN meant Security–First National. BB could mean Buffalo branch, Boston branch, or other B-city branches.
The SR probably denoted a “Senior.” Why the added designation?
Just above JPK, SR: JPK [1693] BOADB. The man was a piker compared to 1408: he lent the Fund a paltry $6.4 million.
The added SR was simply to distinguish the lender from someone with the same initials.
JPK, SR [1408] SFNBB/811512404. One filthy-rich moneylending–
Stop.
Stop right there.
JPK, SR.
Joseph P. Kennedy, Senior.
BB for Boston branch.
August ‘59–Sid Kabikoff talking to Mad Sal:
“I knew Jules way back when”/”when he was SELLING DOPE and USING THE PROFITS to finance movies with RKO back when JOE KENNEDY owned it.”
Stop. Make the call. Impersonate a Bureau hard-on and confirm it or refute it.
Littell dialed 0. He dripped sweat all over the telephone.
An operator came on. “What number, please?”
“I want the Security–First National Bank, in Boston, Massachusetts.”
“One moment, sir. I’ll look the number up and connect you.”
Littell held the line. Adrenaline hit: he went dizzy and parched.
A man answered. “Security–First National.”
“This is Special Agent Johnson, FBI. Let me speak to the manager, please.”
“Please hold. I’ll transfer you.”
Littell heard connection clicks. A man said, “This is Mr. Carmody. May I help you?”
“Th-this is Special Agent Johnson, FBI. I have an account number at your bank here, and I need to know who it belongs to.”
“Is this an official request? It’s a Sunday, and I’m here overseeing our monthly inventory–”
“This is an official request. I can get a bank writ, but I’d rather not put you to the trouble of an in-person visit.”
“I see. Well… I guess….”
Littell came on firm. “The number is 811512404.”
The man sighed. “Well, uh, the 404 listings denote safedeposit-box storage accounts, so if you’re interested in balance figures, I’m afraid–”
“How many storage boxes are rented out to that account number?”
“Well, that account is quite familiar to me, because of its size. You see–”
“How many boxes?”
“An entire vault now of ninety.”
“Can valuables be transferred directly into that vault from outside sources?”
“Certainly. They could be placed in the boxes sight unseen, by second parties with access to the account holder’s password.”
Ninety stash boxes. Millions in Mob-laundered CASH–
“Who does that account number belong to?”
“Well…”
“Shall I get a writ?”
“Well, I…”
Littell almost shouted it. “Is the account holder Joseph P. Kennedy Sr.?”
“Well… uh… yes.”
“The senator’s father?”
“Yes, the senator’s–”
The phone slipped out of his hand. Littell kicked it across the room.
The black book. Mr. 1408, millionaire loan shark.
He went back over the numbers and confirmed it. He triplechecked every digit until his vision blurred.