"No. He told me. I met Jack when we were both in Paris, years ago. We're close. I'm the successor executor-after his father-of his will. So he figured I should know what I was letting myself in for."
Castillo nodded and they fell silent for a moment.
"That's another problem the poor bastard has, telling Betsy's family," Darby said.
"You think he's told his?"
"I don't think he'd want to tell his father without telling Betsy's, and Betsy's father's likely to have a heart attack. Literally. He's got a really bad heart condition."
"Somebody said something about a brother-in-law?"
"Works for the UN. Jack doesn't like him."
"Why not?"
Darby shrugged. "He never told me. But it was pretty evident."
Then Darby changed the subject: "To answer your first question: What I would do if I were Jack Masterson-what I'm half afraid he's already done-is get on the phone to his money guy at Hibernia: 'Get me a million dollars, get on the next plane down here with it, and don't tell anyone.'"
"It might not be that easy," Castillo said. "Rich people don't keep much cash around, either cash-cash, or in a checking account. Even a banker would have trouble coming up with a million in cash without somebody asking some hard questions."
"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Darby said.
Castillo ignored him.
"And a million dollars in hundreds takes up a lot of space. A hundred thousand right from the Federal Reserve makes a bundle about this big."
He demonstrated with his hands.
"You really live in an apartment in the Mayflower, Charley?" Darby asked.
Castillo decided to ignore that, too, but then changed his mind.
"Where'd you hear that?"
"From the same guy who told me about you and the DCI. I won't tell you who he is, but you know him. He was in Afghanistan when we were. Not to worry; he likes you."
"What else did my friend with the big mouth tell you about me?"
"That you're Texas oil money."
"I'm from Texas and I can afford to live in the Mayflower. Can we leave it at that?"
"Okay."
"There's also some sort of a law," Castillo said, "that when you take ten thousand, or more, in cash from a bank, the bank has to tell somebody. I don't know who, maybe the IRS, but somebody. And I don't know what I'm talking about here, but I think there's another law that says you have to declare it if you're taking ten thousand-maybe five thousand-in cash out of the country."
"I'll ask Tony. He'd know. Or one of those FBI guys from Montevideo. They would know…"
There was the buzzing of a cellular phone. Both men took theirs out.
"Hey, Charley," Howard Kennedy's voice came somewhat metallically over Castillo's cellular. "How's things going?"
Darby put his cellular away and looked with interest at Castillo.
"What's new, Howard?" Castillo asked.
"A mutual friend would like to see you."