but didn’t get dramatic on me. “You did right, Reid. Now tell me, you think your own family’s gonna be okay? These guys have got long arms.”
“I’ve called the Harbour and told my assistant. He’s Ojibway. He’s arranging to have some guys cover the house for me. They’re all hunters. They’ll fade into the scenery and put on an armed guard without making a fuss to worry my wife.”
“Will they do that for you?” Doug was impressed.
I nodded. “Anyway, enough about that. I need to know what you were working on. It’s the only way to untie this thing and get you out of here with no comebacks on your family.”
He sniffed thoughtfully, then relaxed a little. “Now that Melody and the kids are safe, I guess it’s okay,” he said. “Let me explain.”
By the time he was finished I could see what he meant. He didn’t have enough details to make a case but the bare bones were that Manatelli was using Cat’s Cradle, and the local bank, to launder money for him. Cindy Laver had given him the facts. It seemed that Manatelli, or somebody, she didn’t know who it was, had formed a company in Delaware, the state where most American corporations are based. The company had contracted to be a partner in Cat’s Cradle. They would buy all of the credit card slips used at the resort at a discount a quarter percent better than the financial companies allowed. That way Cat’s Cradle got cash, with a small markup, and Manatelli got the credits. He was paying these into the bank which would then, Doug thought, pass them on to some bank in the Cayman Islands which would issue cash drafts in nice clean untraceable dollars.
I listened and thought about it. “Couple of things. First, it doesn’t sound like a major case. I mean, what are we talking about here, in credit card slips, a hundred thousand a week in peak season? Surely the mob has bigger funds than that to worry about.”
“This isn’t their whole take,” Doug said. “I think Manatelli is skimming his boss. And anyway, the Cat’s Cradle take would be bigger than that. According to Cindy there could be twice that some weeks.”
“Yes. But no crime’s been committed. All it proves is that Manatelli is a poor businessman. He’s making a loss on every dollar.”
“That’s his cost of doing business,” Doug explained. “And besides, it means he never has tax problems. His income is always negative.”
“But where’s the crime?” I persisted.
“It doesn’t happen here. It happens in New York. That’s where the money’s made, out of teenage hookers, dying, or wearing themselves out in four or five years for creeps like Manatelli.”
“But why can’t you just give this out? Surely you can make it public and then the mob takes care of Manatelli and we all live happily ever after.”
Doug sucked his teeth. “I’ve got no proof. All I know is that I saw Manatelli having dinner in town with the bank president and the boss of Cat’s Cradle. The cash arrives every week, from an address in Florida. It’s tallied by Cindy or the other woman, that Ella Frazer, and then the slips are cashed and the money put into a different account, for the numbered company.”
“And is Cat’s Cradle declaring the extra income they’re making on the slips?”
“That won’t be an issue until they make their tax return. I imagine the extra percentage is going into somebody’s pockets, but we don’t know yet,” Doug said. He pressed the table very hard with both hands. “But you see where I’m coming from. There’s no names. Just numbered companies playing games with money.”
“I don’t understand your case,” I admitted. “It looks legitimate, if dumb. Why did you get knotted up about it?”
The guard against the wall looked at his watch. I knew my time was running out and I still didn’t have enough to go on. If this was all Doug was working on, it wouldn’t persuade a jury to free him from his murder charge and there was no chance to
“I’ve called the Harbour and told my assistant. He’s Ojibway. He’s arranging to have some guys cover the house for me. They’re all hunters. They’ll fade into the scenery and put on an armed guard without making a fuss to worry my wife.”
“Will they do that for you?” Doug was impressed.
I nodded. “Anyway, enough about that. I need to know what you were working on. It’s the only way to untie this thing and get you out of here with no comebacks on your family.”
He sniffed thoughtfully, then relaxed a little. “Now that Melody and the kids are safe, I guess it’s okay,” he said. “Let me explain.”
By the time he was finished I could see what he meant. He didn’t have enough details to make a case but the bare bones were that Manatelli was using Cat’s Cradle, and the local bank, to launder money for him. Cindy Laver had given him the facts. It seemed that Manatelli, or somebody, she didn’t know who it was, had formed a company in Delaware, the state where most American corporations are based. The company had contracted to be a partner in Cat’s Cradle. They would buy all of the credit card slips used at the resort at a discount a quarter percent better than the financial companies allowed. That way Cat’s Cradle got cash, with a small markup, and Manatelli got the credits. He was paying these into the bank which would then, Doug thought, pass them on to some bank in the Cayman Islands which would issue cash drafts in nice clean untraceable dollars.
I listened and thought about it. “Couple of things. First, it doesn’t sound like a major case. I mean, what are we talking about here, in credit card slips, a hundred thousand a week in peak season? Surely the mob has bigger funds than that to worry about.”
“This isn’t their whole take,” Doug said. “I think Manatelli is skimming his boss. And anyway, the Cat’s Cradle take would be bigger than that. According to Cindy there could be twice that some weeks.”
“Yes. But no crime’s been committed. All it proves is that Manatelli is a poor businessman. He’s making a loss on every dollar.”
“That’s his cost of doing business,” Doug explained. “And besides, it means he never has tax problems. His income is always negative.”
“But where’s the crime?” I persisted.
“It doesn’t happen here. It happens in New York. That’s where the money’s made, out of teenage hookers, dying, or wearing themselves out in four or five years for creeps like Manatelli.”
“But why can’t you just give this out? Surely you can make it public and then the mob takes care of Manatelli and we all live happily ever after.”
Doug sucked his teeth. “I’ve got no proof. All I know is that I saw Manatelli having dinner in town with the bank president and the boss of Cat’s Cradle. The cash arrives every week, from an address in Florida. It’s tallied by Cindy or the other woman, that Ella Frazer, and then the slips are cashed and the money put into a different account, for the numbered company.”
“And is Cat’s Cradle declaring the extra income they’re making on the slips?”
“That won’t be an issue until they make their tax return. I imagine the extra percentage is going into somebody’s pockets, but we don’t know yet,” Doug said. He pressed the table very hard with both hands. “But you see where I’m coming from. There’s no names. Just numbered companies playing games with money.”
“I don’t understand your case,” I admitted. “It looks legitimate, if dumb. Why did you get knotted up about it?”
The guard against the wall looked at his watch. I knew my time was running out and I still didn’t have enough to go on. If this was all Doug was working on, it wouldn’t persuade a jury to free him from his murder charge and there was no chance to
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