I just wanted to believe it was true,” he reflected.
“But banks have a responsibility not to let something like this happen.”
“Then how did it?” she asked.
“You have a senior vice president with access to all commercial loan activities, and trust
him. So you don’t always follow your own policies and procedures. You make
exceptions, circumvent. And then you have trouble.” He was getting more depressed.
“I should have watched the son of a bitch more closely, damn it.”
“Could he have gotten away with it, had he lived?” Hammer asked.
“Sure,” Cahoon said.
“All he had to do was make sure the loan was repaid. Of course, that would have been
from drug money, unbeknownst to us. Meanwhile, he would have been getting maybe
ten percent of all money laundered through the hotels, through the bank, and my guess is
we would have become more and more of a major cash interstate for whoever these bad
people are. Eventually, the truth would have come out. US Bank would have been
ruined.”
Hammer watched him thoughtfully, a new respect forming for this man, who prior to this
early morning, she had not understood, and in truth had unfairly judged.
“Just tell me what I can do to help,” she said again.
“If you could withhold his identification and everything about this situation so we salvage what we can and get up to speed on exactly what happened,” he repeated.
“After that, we’ll file a Suspicious Activity Report, and the public will know.”
Hammer glanced at her watch. It was almost three a. m.
“We’ll get the FBI on it immediately. It will be in their best interest to buy a little time, too. As for Mauney, as far as I’m concerned, we can’t effect a positive identification just
yet, and I’m sure Dr. Odom will want to withhold information until he can get hold of
dental records, fingerprints, whatever, and you know how overworked he is.” She
paused, and promised, “It will take a while.”
Cahoon thought of Mrs. Mauney III, whom he had met only superficially at parties.
“Someone’s got to call Polly,” he said.
“Mauney’s wife.
I’d like to do that, if you have no objections. ”
Hammer got up and smiled at him.
“You know some thing, Sol? You’re nowhere near as rotten as I thought.”
“That works both way, Judy.” He got up.
“It certainly does.”
“You hungry?”
“Starved.”
“What’s open at this hour,” he wondered.
“You ever been to the Presto Grill?”
“Is that a club?” He grabbed his car keys.
“Yes,” she said.
“And guess what, Sol? It’s about time you became a member.”
Chapter Twenty-six.
ji^^/ For the most part, only people up to no good were out this hour, and as West drove
seedy “‘\ ” Newsroom,” an unfamiliar voice answered.
“Andy Brazil,” West said.
“He’s not in.”
“Has he been in at all the last few hours?” West asked, frustration in her tone.
“Have you heard from him?”
“Not that I know of.”
West hit the end button, and tossed the phone on the seat. She pounded the steering
wheel.
“Damn you, damn you, Andy!” she exclaimed.
As she cruised, her phone rang, startling her. It was Brazil. She was sure of it as she
answered. She was wrong.
“It’s Hammer,” her chief said.
“What in the world are you doing still out?”
“I can’t find him.”
“You certain he’s not home or at the paper?”
“Positive. He’s out here courting trouble,” West said rather frantically.
“Oh dear,” Hammer said.
“Cahoon and I are about to have breakfast, Virginia. Here’s what I want you to do. No
information about this case, and no identification until I tell you otherwise. For now, the
case is pending. We need to buy some time here because of this other situation.”
“I think that’s wise,” West said, checking her mirrors, looking everywhere.
tw She had missed Brazil by no more than two minutes, and in fact, unwittingly had done
so a number of times during the past few hours.
She would turn onto one street just before he drove past where she had been. Now, he
was cruising by the Cadillac Grill on West Trade Street, and staring out at boarded-up