jg.thepartner-第20部分

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　Both　threw　in　the　towel　by　lunch。　Call　off　the　dogs；　they　said　to　Stephano。　The　search　is　over。　Cooperate　fully　with　the　FBI；　and　for　heaven's　sakes　do　something　to　get　these　agents　out　of　our　headquarters。　It　was　very　embarrassing。
　And　so　the　consortium　unraveled。　Stephano　had　kept　it　together　for　four　years；　and　in　doing　so　earned　himself　almost　a　million　dollars。　He'd　spent　another　2。5　million　of　his　client's；　and　he　could　claim　success。　They'd　found　Lanigan。　They　had　not　found　the　ninety　million；　but　it　was　still　around。　It　had　not　been　spent。　There　was　a　chance　of　recouping　it。
　BENNY　ARICIA　was　in　the　suite　with　Stephano　throughout　the　morning；　reading　papers；　making　calls　of　his　own；　listening　as　Stephano　worked　the　phones。　At　one；　he　called　his　attorney　in　Biloxi　and　got　the　news　that　Patrick　had　arrived。　And　amid　almost　no　fanfare。　The　local　TV　ran　the　story　at　noon；　plete　with　a　shot　of　the　Air　Force　cargo　plane　roaring　overhead　as　it　landed　at　Keesler。　That　was　as　close　as　they　were　allowed。　The　local　Sheriff　confirmed　that　the　boy　was　back。
　He　had　listened　to　the　torture　tape　three　times；　often　stopping　it　to　replay　his　favorite　spots。　Once；　two　days　ago　on　a　flight　to　Florida；　he　had　listened　to　it　with　earphones　as　he　sipped　a　drink　in　first　class　and　smiled　at　the　blood…curdling　sounds　of　a　man　begging　for　mercy。　But　the　smiles　were　rare　for　Benny　these　days。　He　was　certain　Patrick　had　told　what　he　knew；　and　it　wasn't　enough。　Patrick　knew　he　would　someday　get　caught；　that's　why　he　shrewdly　placed　the　money　with　the　girl；　who　then　hid　it　from　everyone；　including　Patrick。　Brilliant。　Nothing　short　of　it。
　〃What　will　it　take　to　find　her？〃　he　asked　Stephano；　as　the　two　lunched　on　soup　sent　up　by　room　service。　The　question　had　been　asked　many　times　already。
　〃What；　or　how　much？〃
　〃How　much；　I　guess。〃
　〃Can't　answer　that。　We　have　no　idea　where　she　is；　but　we　know　where　she's　from。　And　we　know　she'll　likely　surface　somewhere　around　Biloxi；　now　that　her　man's　there。　It　can　be　done。〃
　〃How　much？〃
　〃Just　guessing；　I'd　say　a　hundred　thousand；　with　no　guarantees。　Put　up　the　money；　and　when　it's　gone；　we　quit。〃
　〃Any　chance　the　feds　will　know　we're　still　looking？〃
　〃Nope。〃
　Benny　stirred　his　soup…tomatoes　and　noodles。　Down　one　point　nine　million　already；　it　seemed　foolish　not　to　give　it　one　last　shot。　The　odds　were　long；　but　the　reward　could　be　enormous。　It　was　the　same　game　he'd　played　for　four　years　now。
　〃And　if　you　find　her？〃　he　asked。
　〃We'll　make　her　talk；〃　Stephano　said；　and　they　exchanged　grimaces　at　the　unpleasant　thought　of　doing　to　a　woman　what　they'd　done　to　Patrick。
　〃What　about　his　lawyer？〃　Aricia　finally　asked。　〃Can't　we　bug　his　office；　tap　his　phones；　somehow　listen　in　when　he　talks　to　his　client。　Surely　they'll　talk　about　my　money。〃
　〃It's　a　possibility。　Are　you　serious？〃
　〃Serious？　I　got　ninety　million　out　there；　Jack。　Minus　a　third　for　those　bloodsucking　lawyers。　Of　course　I'm　serious。〃
　〃It　could　be　tricky。　The　lawyer's　not　stupid；　you　know。　And　his　client's　a　cautious　fellow。〃
　〃e　on；　Jack。　You're　supposed　to　be　the　best。　You're　certainly　the　most　expensive。〃
　〃We'll　do　a　preliminary…trail　him　for　a　couple　of　days；　see　his　layout。　There's　no　rush。　His　client　isn't　moving　for　a　while。　Right　now　I'm　more　concerned　with　getting　the　feds　outta　my　hair。　I　need　to　do　a　few　trivial　things　like　reopen　my　office　and　get　the　bugs　outta　my　phones。〃
　Aricia　waved　him　off。　〃How　much　will　it　cost　me？〃
　〃I　don't　know。　We'll　talk　about　it　later。　Finish　your　lunch。　The　lawyers　are　waiting。〃
　Stephano　left　first；　on　foot；　and　waved　politely　to　the　two　agents　parked　illegally　on　I　Street；　down　from　the　hotel。　He　walked　briskly　to　his　lawyer's　office；　seven　blocks　away。　Benny　waited　ten　minutes　and　caught　a　cab。
　They　spent　the　afternoon　in　a　conference　room　crowded　with　lawyers　and　paralegals。　The　agreements　were　faxed　back　and　forth　between　the　lawyers…Ste…phano's　and　the　FBI's。　Eventually　both　sides　got　what　they　wanted。　The　criminal　charges　aigainst　Stephano　were　dropped　and　would　not　be　pursued　against　his　clients。　The　FBI　received　his　written　promise　to　divulge　everything　he　knew　about　the　search　and　capture　of　Patrick　Lanigan。
　Stephano　truly　planned　to　tell　most　of　what　he　knew。　The　search　was　over；　thus　there　was　no　longer　anything　to　hide。　The　interrogation　had　produced　little；　just　the　name　of　a　Brazilian　lawyer　who　had　the　money。　Now　she　had　vanished；　and　he　seriously　doubted　the　FBI　had　the　time　and　desire　to　pursue　her。　Why　should　they？　The　money　didn't　belong　to　them。
　And　though　he　worked　hard　not　to　show　it；　he　desperately　wanted　the　FBI　out　of　his　life。　Mrs。　Stephano　was　severely　rattled；　and　the　pressure　at　home　was　enormous。　If　he　didn't　reopen　his　office　quickly；　he'd　be　out　of　business。
　So；　he　planned　to　tell　them　what　they　wanted　to　hear；　most　of　it　anyway。　He'd　take　Benny's　money；　what　was　left　of　it；　and　chase　the　girl　some　more；　maybe　get　lucky。　And　he'd　send　a　crew　to　New　Orleans　to　watch　Lanigan's　lawyer。　The　FBI　didn't　need　to　know　these　little　details。
　SINCE　THERE　WASNT　an　available　square　inch　in　the　federal　building　in　Biloxi；　Cutter　asked　Sheriff　Sweeney　to　find　a　spot　at　the　county　jail。　Sweeney　reluctantly　agreed；　though　the　idea　of　the　FBI　spending　time　in　his　offices　was　unsettling。　He　cleaned　out　a　storage　room　and　installed　a　table　and　some　chairs。　The　Lanigan　Room　was　christened。
　There　was　little　to　store　there。　No　one　Suspected　murder　when　Patrick　died；　and　so　there　was　no　effort　at　gathering　physical　clues；　at　least　not　for　the　first　six　weeks。　When　the　money　vanished；　suspicions　grew；　but　by　then　the　trail　was　cold。
　Cutter　and　Ted　Grimshaw；　the　chief　investigator　for　Harrison　County；　carefully　examined　and　inventoried　their　meager　evidence。　There　were　ten　large　color　photos　of　the　burned…out　Chevy　Blazer；　and　they　tacked　these　on　one　wall。　They　had　been　taken　by　Grimshaw。
　The　fire　had　been　extremely　hot；　now　they　knew　why。　Patrick　no　doubt　had　loaded　the　interior　with　plastic　containers　of　gasoline。　That　would　account　for　the　melted　aluminum　seat　frames；　the　blown…out　windows；　the　disintegrated　dashboard；　and　the　scant　remains　of　the　body。　Six　photos　were　of　the　corpse；　such　as　it　was…a　small　pile　of　charred　matter　with　half　a　pelvic　bone　protruding。　It　had　e　to　rest　on　the　floorboard　of　the　passenger's　side。　The　Blazer　had　flipped　several　times　after　it　left　the　highway　and　barreled　down　a　ravine。　It　burned　on　its　right　side。
　Sheriff　Sweeney　had　kept　it　for　a　month；　then　sold　it　for　scrap　with　three　other　abandoned　wrecks。　Later；　he　wished　he　hadn't。
　There　were　half　a　dozen　photos　of　the　site　around　the　vehicle；　trees　and　shrubs　burned　black。　The　volunteers　had　fought　the　fire　for　an　hour　before　extinguishing　it。
　How　convenient　that　Patrick　wanted　to　be　cremated。　According　to　Trudy　（and　they　had　a　typed　statement　given　by　her　a　month　after　the　funeral）；　Patrick　had　suddenly　decided　he　wanted　to　be　cremated　with　his　ashes　buried　in　Locust　Grove；　the　loveliest　cemetery　in　the　county。　This　decision　was　made　almost　eleven　months　before　he　disappeared。　He'd　even　changed　his　will　and　included　language　directing　his　executor；　Trudy；　or　in　the　event　she　died　with　him　his　alternate　executor；　Karl　Huskey；　to　carry　out　the　cremation。　He　also　included　specific　details　about　his　funeral　and　burial。
　His　excuse　for　doing　this　had　been　the　death　of　a　client　who　had　not　planned　well。　The　family　had　fought　viciously　about　how　to　bury　the　client；　and　Patrick　had　been　pulled　into　the　fray。　He　even　made　Trudy　pick　out　her　cemetery　plot。　She　picked　one　next　tq　his；　but　both　knew　she　would　quickly　move　it　if　something　happened　to　him　first。
　The　mortician　later　told　Grimshaw　that　ninety　percent　of　the　cremating　had　been　done　in　the　Blazer。　When　he　weighed　the　ashes　after　cooking　the　remains　for　an　hour　at　two　thousand　degrees；　the　scales　registered　just　four　ounces；　by　far　the　smallest　amount　he'd　ever　registered。　He　could　tell　nothing　about　the　body　…male；　female；　black；　white；　young；　old；　alive　or　dead　before　the　fire。　There　was　simply　no　way。　He　didn't　really　try；　to　be　honest　about　the　whole　thing。
　They　had　no　corpse；　no　autopsy　report；　no　idea　who　John　Doe　was。　Fire　is　the　surest　way　to　destroy　evidence；　and　Patrick　had　done　a　splendid　job　of　covering　his　tracks。
　HE'D　SPENT　the　weekend　in　an　old　hunting　cabin　near　the　small　town　of　Leaf；　up　in　Greene　County；　at　the　edge　of　the　De　Soto　National　Forest。　He　and　a　law　school　friend　from　Jackson　had　bought　the　cabin　two　years　earlier　with　modest　plans　to　make　small　improvements。　It　was　quite　rustic。　They　hunted　deer　in　the　fall　and　winter；　and　turkeys　in　the　spring。　With　the　ups　and　downs　of　his　marriage；　he　was　spending　more　and　more　weekends　at　the　cabin。　It　was　only　an　hour　and　a　half　away。　He　claimed　to　be　able　to　work　there。　It　was　very　remote　and　quiet。　His　friend；　the　co…owner；　had　all　but　forgotten　about　it。
　Trudy　pretended　to　resent　his　weekends　away；　but　Lance　was　usually　lurking　nearby；　just　waiting　for　Patrick　to　leave　town。
　Sunday　night；　February　9；　1992；　Patrick　called　to　tell　his　wife　he　was　leaving　the　cabin。　He'd　finished　a　plicated　brief　for　an　appeal；　and　he　was　tired。　Lance　lingered　for　another　hour　before　easing　into　the　darkness。
　Patrick　stopped　at　Verhall's　Country　Store　on　Highway　15　at　the　divide　between　Stone　and　Hanison　counties。　He　bought　twelve　gallons　of　gas　for　fourteen　dollars　and　twenty…one　cents　and　paid　for　it　with　a　credit　card。　He　chatted　with　Mrs。　Verhall；　an　older　lady　he'd　bee　acquainted　with。　She　knew　many　of　the　hunters　who　passed　through；　especially　the　ones　who　liked　to　linger　and　brag　of　their　exploits　in　the　woods；　like　Patrick。　She　said　later　that　he　was　in　good　spirits；　though　he　claimed　to　be　tired　because　he　had　worked　all　weekend。　She　remembered　thinking　that　this　was　odd。　An　hour　later　she　heard　the　police　and　fire　trucks　race　by。
　Eight　miles　down　the　road；　Patrick's　Blazer　was　found　engulfed　in　a　raging　fire　at　the　bottom　of　a　steep　ravine；　eighty　yards　from　the　highway。　A　truck　driver　saw　the　fire　first；　and　managed　to　get　to　within　fifty　feet　of　it　before　his　eyebrows　were　singed。　He　radioed　for　help；　then　sat　on　a