A King's ransom

59

I had everything, but in effect I had nothing. That was the legal conclusion Jenna and I reached in her office that afternoon.

Jenna was seated behind her desk. I was in the silk wing chair facing her. She’d listened to my detailed recount of Jaime’s confession without much apparent amazement, as his story jibed with our own theory: It was an inside job.

“We have the same problem we’ve always had,” I said. “How do we prove it?”

“You think Jaime’s long gone?”

“Absolutely. He was happy to sell me information on the sly, but he wasn’t about to walk into a courtroom and testify against Quality Insurance Company under any circumstances. He’s terrified of them.”

“The way they strong-armed Judge Korvan into recusing herself from our case, I guess he has good reason to be afraid.”

“Even if I could somehow corral him, could you imagine the cross-examination?”

Jenna was right with me, breaking into role. “Mr. Ochoa, exactly how close did your hand come to being ground into a Quarter Pounder before you spit out the lies that Mr. Rey wanted to hear?”

Her saying it made me wince. “I wouldn’t have actually done it, you know.”

“Done what?”

“Flipped the switch.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you. The creep handed your father over to kidnappers.”

I stared out the window, thinking. Jenna said, “Have you thought about making good on your threat to Jaime? Why not go to the state attorney?”

“I need three million dollars by Sunday. Can you think of anything that would make a company circle the wagons and pay me nothing faster than the threat of a criminal investigation?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

I rose and started pacing across the Oriental rug. “There has to be something we can do.”

“I don’t know what, short of finding another witness.”

I stopped. A wry smile came upon me as I looked at her and said, “Now that is a great idea.”