The Collectors

Chapter 23

“You will receive an e-mail from my people,” Annabelle said. She was standing in the operations center at the Pompeii Casino with several of Bagger’s people in attendance. “When you open the e-mail, it will provide you with detailed instructions.”

One of the men spoke up. “We don’t like opening e-mails if we don’t know where they’re from.”

Annabelle nodded. “Hit it with all your antivirus stuff. I’m assuming you’re state-of-the-art.”

“We are,” the same man said confidently.

“Then do like the lady told you and hit it hard,” Bagger said impatiently.

Leo sat in one corner of the room, his gaze resolutely on the other men. His job was to note any degree of suspicion or concern while Annabelle went through her spiel. It didn’t hurt matters that she was wearing a very clingy, short skirt, with no hose and a blouse with the top two buttons undone. Every guy in the room followed each glimpse of her upper thighs and cleavage. And if they were doing that, they weren’t thinking as clearly as they should have been. Annabelle Conroy, Leo had long ago learned, used every asset in her arsenal.

“The only form of acceptable communication will be through the secure Web portal contained in the e-mail. Under no circumstances will you use your phone or fax, both of which can be monitored. Correction,” she added, glancing at Bagger, “both of which are monitored.”

Bagger raised his eyebrows on that comment but said, “You heard the woman. Nothing but the Net.” Bagger was no doubt secure in his cooperation because he had an ace, or in this case, two aces in the hole. He would be holding Annabelle and Leo until his money came back.

“The e-mail will tell you where and how to send the funds. Two days later the funds will be automatically wired back to your account, plus the interest.”

“And one million becomes one point one million in a couple of days, right?” Bagger said.

Annabelle nodded. “Just like we said, Jerry. Not a bad payday.”

“It better be,” he said ominously. “When can we start?”

Annabelle checked her watch. “The e-mail should be coming over your system right about now.”

Bagger snapped his fingers, and one of his men checked the computer.

“Here it is,” the man said. He hit a few buttons. “I’m just running it through some extra security scans to make sure it’s clean.”

Two minutes went by, and then the IT guy looked up. “Okay, it’s good.”

“Open it,” Bagger ordered.

“You have your own money-wiring capabilities, right?” Annabelle asked, even though her careful background research had already provided the answer.

Bagger said, “Our system is piggybacked right onto the bank’s. I don’t like third parties controlling my money or necessarily knowing where my money’s going. The funds come from the bank right to us, and we send the wire out ourselves. That’s the way I like it.”

I like it too, Annabelle said to herself.

Ten minutes later $1 million of Jerry Bagger’s money was on its way to a very special account.

Leaving the office, Bagger said to Annabelle, “All right, you’re my ‘guest’ for the next forty-eight hours. Give us a chance to get to know each other better.” He smiled and let his gaze run up and down her long, lithe figure.

“Sounds good,” Annabelle said.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Leo added.

Bagger looked at Leo like he’d forgotten he was part of the deal. “Right,” he muttered.

Over the next two days they ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with Bagger. At all other times Bagger’s men stood outside their hotel rooms at the Pompeii and accompanied them wherever they went. Annabelle also sat up late into the night having drinks with the casino king, but expertly playing off his advances with just enough encouragement to allow the man to remain hopeful. She carefully let out facts of her “history,” with just enough held back to guarantee intrigue and continued interest. He talked a lot about himself, with all the bravado and conceit one would have expected from such a man.

“I think you would’ve made a good spy, Jerry,” she said admiringly as they relaxed on his couch over a couple of martinis. “You’ve got brains and nerve, that’s a rare combination.”

“Look who’s talking.” He slid closer to her, gave her thigh a pat. Then he tried to grab a quick kiss, but she turned away.

“Jerry, I could get into real trouble going down that road.”

“Who’s gonna tell? Look, we’re all alone. I know I’m not a spring chicken, but I work out every day, and I think I’ll surprise you between the sheets, baby.”

“Just give me some time. It’s not like I’m not attracted to you, but I’ve got a lot going on right now. Okay?” She gave him a peck on the cheek, and he finally backed off.

At the end of the two-day period Bagger was $100,000 richer.

“Want to try for five million, Jerry? That’ll get you half a million in interest in forty-eight hours.” Annabelle was casually perched on Bagger’s desk, her long legs crossed, while Leo sat on the couch.

“Only if you hang around until it comes back,” Bagger said.

She winked. “That’s part of the deal, Jerry. You get me all to yourself.”

“So you keep telling me. Where’d my money go, by the way?”

“Like I told you, El Banco del Caribe.”

“No, I mean, what overseas operation did it fund?”

Leo spoke up. “She could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you both.” There were a few moments of awkward silence until Annabelle laughed. Then Leo and finally Bagger joined in, the latter a little reluctantly.

Two days later the $5-million wire had ballooned by $500,000.

“Damn,” Bagger said, “this is better than printing money.” He was again in his office with Annabelle and Leo. “I know Uncle Sam has got a ton of dough, but how can even the government afford this?”

Annabelle shrugged. “We can’t. That’s why we have trillion-dollar deficits. If we need more money, we just sell more T-bills to the Saudis and the Chinese. It won’t work forever, but it does for now.” She glanced at Bagger and put a hand on his arm. “But if you’re feeling sorry for Uncle Sam, Jerry, you can let us use your money for free.”

He laughed. “My motto hasn’t changed in forty years: Every asshole for himself.”

And a motto never fit anyone better than that one does you, Annabelle thought even as she smiled in mock admiration at the man.

Bagger leaned forward in his chair, glancing at Leo as he did so. In a low voice he said to her, “You ever lose the shadow?”

Annabelle said, “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how good of friends you and I become.”

“I know how we can be really good friends.”

“Tell me.”

“We do a run for ten million, and I get an even mil for my troubles. Can Uncle Sam cover that action?”

“Just wire the money, Jerry.”

“And you stay right here until I get it back?”

“We both do,” Leo said.

Bagger grimaced and spoke in an even lower voice to her so Leo couldn’t hear. “I suppose I’d get in deep shit for whacking him, wouldn’t I?”

“You remember the scum of the scum I talked to you about? You harm him, they show up on your doorstep. I really wouldn’t advise it.”

“Well, damn,” Bagger complained.

“It’s not a total loss, Jerry. In two days you make a million bucks for doing nothing except eating and drinking with me.”

“I wanna do more than that, you know that, don’t you?”

“Jerry, I knew that the first time you tried to put your hand up my dress.”

Bagger roared with laughter. “I like your style, lady. You’re too good for the government. You should come and work for me. We’d take this town to a new level.”

“I’m always open to future prospects. But for now why don’t we work on the next million for you? I want you to be able to afford to keep me in the manner to which I’ve grown accustomed.” She patted his hand, letting a fingernail dig lightly into his palm. She felt the shudder run through the man’s entire body.

“You’re killing me here, baby,” he said in a pathetic whine.

Oh, no, that comes next.