jg.thepartner-第7部分

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　and　for　this　he　had　received　no　small　amount　of　grief。
　Doug　Vitrano；　the　litigator；　had　made　the　fateful　decision　to　remend　Patrick　as　the　fifth　partner。　The　other　three　had　agreed；　and　when　Lanigan　was　added　to　the　firm　name；　he　had　access　to　virtually　every　file　in　the　office。　Bogan；　Rapley；　Vitrano；　Havarac；　and　Lanigan；　Attorneys　and　Counselors…at…Law。　A　large　ad　in　the　yellow　pages　claimed　〃Specialists　in　Offshore　Injuries。〃　Specialists　or　not；　like　most　firms　they　would　take　almost　anything　if　the　fees　were　lucrative。　Lots　of　secretaries　and　paralegals。　Big　overhead；　and　the　strongest　political　connections　on　the　Coast。
　They　were　all　in　their　mid…　to　late　forties。　Havarac　had　been　raised　by　his　father　on　a　shrimp　boat。　His　hands　were　still　proudly　calloused；　and　he　dreamed　of　choking　Patrick　until　his　neck　snapped。　Rapley　was　severely　depressed　and　seldom　left　his　home；　where　he　wrote　briefs　in　a　dark　office　in　the　attic。
　BOGAN　AND　VITRANO　were　at　their　desks　just　after　nine　when　Agent　Cutter　entered　the　building　on　Vieux　Marche；　in　the　old　section　of　Biloxi。　He　smiled　at　the　receptionist　and　asked　if　any　of　the　lawyers　were　in。　It　was　a　fair　question。　They　were　known　as　a　bunch　of　drunks　who　occasionally　showed　up　for　work。
　She　led　him　to　a　small　conference　room　and　gave　him　coffee。　Vitrano　came　first；　looking　remarkably　starched　and　clear…eyed。　Bogan　was　just　seconds　behind。　They　mixed　sugar　in　the　coffee　and　talked　about　the　weather。
　In　the　months　immediately　following　the　disappearance　of　both　Patrick　and　the　money；　Cutter　would
　drop　in　periodically　and　deliver　the　latest　update　on　the　FBI's　investigation。　They　became　pleasant　acquaintances；　though　the　meetings　were　always　disheartening。　As　the　months　became　years；　the　updates　grew　further　apart。　And　the　updates　had　the　same　endings：　no　trace　of　Patrick。　It　had　been　almost　a　year　since　Cutter　had　spoken　to　any　of　them。
　And　so　they　figured　he　was　simply　being　nice；　happened　to　be　downtown　for　something；　probably　wanted　a　cup　of　coffee；　and　this　would　be　routine　and　quick。
　Cutter　said；　〃We　have　Patrick　in　custody。〃
　Charlie　Bogan　closed　his　eyes　and　displayed　every　one　of　his　teeth。　〃Oh　my　God！〃　he　exclaimed；　then　buried　his　face　in　his　palms。　〃Oh　my　God。〃
　Vitrano's　head　fell　back；　his　mouth　too　fell　open。　He　gazed　in　utter　disbelief　at　the　ceiling。　〃Where？〃　he　managed　to　ask。
　〃He's　at　a　military　base　in　Puerto　Rico。　He　was　captured　in　Brazil。〃
　Bogan　stood　and　walked　to　a　corner；　next　to　some　bookcases；　where　he　hid　his　face　and　tried　to　hold　back　the　tears。　〃Oh　my　God；〃　he　kept　repeating。
　〃Are　you　sure　it's　him？〃　Vitrano　asked　in　disbelief。
　〃Positive。〃
　〃Tell　me　more；〃　Vitrano　said。
　〃Like　what？〃
　〃Like　how　did　you　find　him？　And　where？　And　what　was　he　doing？　What　does　he　look　like？〃
　〃We　didn't　find　him。　He　was　given　to　us。〃
　Bogan　sat　down　at　the　table；　a　handkerchief　over　his　nose。　〃I'm　sorry；〃　he　said；　embarrassed。
　〃Do　you　know　a　man　named　Jack　Stephano？〃　Cutter　asked。
　They　both　nodded　with　some　reluctance。
　〃Are　you　part　of　his　little　consortium？〃
　They　both　shook　their　heads　in　the　negative。
　〃You're　lucky。　Stephano　found　him；　tortured　him；　damned　near　killed　him；　then　gave　him　to　us。〃
　〃I　like　the　part　about　the　torture；〃　Vitrano　said。　〃Tell　us　about　that。〃
　〃Skip　it。　We　picked　him　up　last　night　in　Paraguay；　flew　him　to　Puerto　Rico。　He's　in　the　hospital　there。　He'll　be　released　and　sent　here　in　a　few　days。〃
　〃What　about　the　money？〃　Bogan　managed　to　ask；　his　voice　scratchy　and　dry。
　〃No　sign　of　it。　But　then；　we　don't　know　what　Stephano　knows。〃
　Vitrano　stared　at　the　table；　his　eyes　dancing。　Patrick　had　stolen　ninety　million　dollars　when　he　disappeared　four　years　earlier。　It　would　be　impossible　to　spend　all　of　it。　He　could　have　bought　mansions　and　helicopters　and　lots　of　women　and　still　have　tens　of　millions　left。　Surely　they　could　find　it。　The　firm's　fee　was　a　third。
　Maybe；　just　maybe。
　Bogan　worked　on　his　moist　eyes　and　thought　of　his　ex…wife；　a　congenial　woman　who'd　turned　vicious　when　the　sky　fell。　She　had　felt　disgraced　after　the　bankruptcy；　and　so　she　took　their　youngest　child　and　moved　to　Pensacola　where　she　filed　for　divorce　and　made　ugly　accusations。　Bogan　was　drinking　and　using　coke。　She　knew　it　and　beat　him　over　the　head　with　it。　He　couldn't　offer　much　resistance。　He　eventually　cleaned　himself　up；　but　was　still　denied　access　to　the　child。
　Oddly　enough；　he　still　loved　his　ex…wife；　still　dreamed　of　getting　her　back。　Maybe　the　money　would　get　her　attention。　Maybe　there　was　hope。　Surely　they　could　find　it。
　Cutter　broke　the　silence。　〃Stephano's　in　all　sorts　of　trouble。　There　were　burns　all　over　Patrick's　body　where　they　tortured　him。〃
　〃Good；〃　Vitrano　said　with　a　smile。
　〃You　expect　sympathy　from　us？〃　Bogan　asked。
　〃Anyway；　Stephano　is　a　side　issue。　We'll　watch　him；　maybe　he'll　lead　us　to　the　money。〃
　〃The　money　will　be　easy　to　find；〃　Vitrano　said。　〃There　was　a　dead　body。　Somebody　got　killed　by　our　boy　Patrick。　It's　a　death　penalty　case；　open　and　shut。　Murder　for　the　sake　of　money。　Patrick　will　sing　when　the　pressure　is　applied。〃
　〃Better　yet；　give　him　to　us；〃　Bogan　said；　without　a　smile。　〃Ten　minutes；　and　we'll　know　everything。〃
　Cutter　glanced　at　his　watch。　〃I　gotta　go。　I　have　to　go　to　Point　Clear　and　break　the　news　to　Trudy。〃
　Bogan　and　Vitrano　snorted　in　perfect　unison；　then　laughed。　〃Oh；　she　doesn't　know？〃　Bogan　said。
　〃Not　yet。〃
　〃Please　video　it；〃　Vitrano　said；　still　laughing　quietly。　〃I'd　love　to　see　her　face。〃
　〃I'm　actually　looking　forward　to　it；〃　Cutter　said。
　〃The　bitch；〃　Bogan　said。
　Cutter　stood　and　said；　〃Tell　the　other　partners；　but　sit　on　it　until　noon。　We've　scheduled　a　press　conference　then。　I'll　be　in　touch。〃
　They　didn't　say　a　word　for　a　long　time　after　he　left。　There　were　so　many　questions；　so　much　to　say。　The　room　spun　with　possibilities　and　scenarios。
　THE　VICTIM　of　a　fiery　one…car　collision；　on　a　rural　road　with　no　witnesses；　Patrick　was　laid　to　rest　by　his　lovely　wife　Trudy　on　February　11；　1992。　She　was　a　striking　widow；　dressed　in　black　Armani；　and　as　they　shoveled　dirt　onto　his　casket　she　was　already　spending　the　money。
　His　will　left　everything　to　her。　It　was　simple　and　had　been　recently　updated。　Hours　before　the　funeral　mass；　Trudy　and　Doug　Vitrano　had　carefully　opened　the　lockbox　in　Patrick's　office　and　inventoried　the　contents。　They　found　the　will；　two　car　titles；　the　deed　to　the　Lanigan　home；　a　life　insurance　policy　in　the　amount　of　half　a　million　dollars　that　Trudy　knew　about；　and　another　policy　for　two　million　that　she'd　never　heard　of。
　Vitrano　had　quickly　scanned　the　unexpected　policy。　It　had　been　purchased　by　Patrick　eight　months　earlier。　Trudy　was　the　sole　beneficiary。　The　same　pany　had　sold　both　policies；　and　it　was　huge　and　solvent。
　She　swore　she　knew　nothing　about　it；　and　the　smile　on　her　face　convinced　Vitrano　she　was　genuinely　shocked。　Funeral　or　no　funeral；　Trudy　was　quite　thrilled　about　her　good　fortune。　With　her　pain　eased　considerably；　she　somehow　managed　to　suffer　through　the　funeral　service　and　burial　without　a　serious　breakdown。
　The　life　insurance　pany　balked；　as　they　all　do　initially；　but　Vitrano　made　sufficient　threats　to　force　payment。　Four　weeks　after　the　burial；　Trudy　got　her　two　and　a　half　million。
　A　week　later；　she　was　driving　a　red　Rolls…Royce　around　Biloxi；　and　people　began　to　hate　her。　Then　the　ninety　million　vanished　in　thin　air；　and　the　rumors　got　started。
　Perhaps　she　wasn't　a　widow。
　Patrick　was　the　first　suspect；　and　eventually　the　only　one。　The　gossip　grew　vicious；　so　Trudy　loaded　her　small　daughter　and　her　boyfriend；　Lance；　a　holdover　from　high　school；　into　the　red　Rolls　and　fled　to　Mobile；　an　hour　east　of　Biloxi。　She　found　a　slick　lawyer　who　gave　her　lots　of　advice　on　how　to　protect　the　money。　She　bought　a　beautiful　old　home　in　Point　Clear；　overlooking　Mobile　Bay；　and　put　it　in　Lance's　name。
　Lance　was　a　strong；　handsome　loser　she'd　first　slept　with　at　the　age　of　fourteen。　He'd　been　convicted　of　smuggling　pot　at　nineteen；　and　spent　three　years　in　prison　while　she　was　having　a　wonderful　time　at　college；　playing　cheerleader　and　seducing　football　players；　a　legendary　party　girl　who　also　managed　to　graduate　with　honors。　She　married　a　wealthy　fraternity　boy；　and　divorced　him　after　two　years。　Then　she　enjoyed　the　single　life　for　a　few　years　until；　she　met　and　married　Patrick；　a　promising　young　lawyer　who　was　new　to　the　Coast。　Their　courtship　had　been　long　on　passion　and　short　on　planning。
　Through　college；　both　marriages；　and　various　short　careers；　Trudy　had　always　kept　Lance　nearby。　He　was　an　addiction；　a　strapping；　lusty　boy　she　could　never　get　enough　of。　She　knew　when　she　was　fourteen　that　she　would　never　be　without　Lance。
　LANCE　OPENED　THE　DOOR；　bare…chested；　black　hair　pulled　back　tightly　into　the　obligatory　ponytail；　a　large　diamond　earring　in　the　left　lobe。　He　sneered　at　Cutter　as　he　sneered　at　the　world；　and　didn't　say　a　word。
　〃Is　Trudy　in？〃　Cutter　asked。
　〃Maybe。〃
　The　badge　flashed；　and　for　a　second　the　sneer　vanished。　〃Agent　Cutter；　FBI。　I've　talked　to　her　before。〃
　Lance　imported　marijuana　from　Mexico　with　a　large；　fast　boat　Trudy　had　purchased　for　him。　He　sold　the　pot　to　a　gang　in　Mobile。　Business　was　slow　because　the　DEA　was　asking　questions。
　〃She's　in　the　gym；〃　Lance　said；　nodding　past　Cutter。　〃What　do　you　want？〃
　Cutter　ignored　him　and　walked　across　the　drive　to　a　converted　garage　where　the　music　was　booming。　Lance　followed。
　Trudy　was　in　the　midst　of　a　high…level　aerobics　challenge　being　dictated　to　her　by　a　supermodel　on　a　large…screen　TV　at　one　end　of　the　room。　She　bounced　and　gyrated　and　mouthed　the　words　to　a　nameless　song；　and　looked　damned　good　doing　it。　Tight　yellow　spandex。　Tight　blond　ponytail。　Not　an　ounce　of　fat　anywhere。　Cutter　could've　watched　for　hours。　Even　her　sweat　was　cute。
　She　did　this　two　hours　a　day。　At　thirty…five；　Trudy　still　looked　like　everybody's　high　school　sweetheart。
　Lance　hit　a　switch　and　the　video　stopped。　She　twirled；　saw　Cutter；　and　gave　him　a　look　that　would　melt　cheese。　〃Do　you　mind？〃　she　snapped　at　Lance。　Evidently；　this　workout　was　not　to　be　disturbed。
　〃I'm　Special　Agent　Cutter；　FBI；〃　he　said；　whippin