“We’ve met before,” the man said.
“Where?” Stone asked, puzzled.
“We had a meeting about the Sasha Nijinsky case, a few years ago, in New York. I was stationed there then.”
“Now I remember.”
“You were doing everything you could to keep us out of the case, as I recall.”
“I believe I was,” Stone agreed.
“I didn’t particularly hold it against you; it’s what we expected from the locals.”
“I’m glad. What have they got you doing out here?”
“I run the financial investigations division.”
“Just the man I want to talk to,” Stone said, smiling.
“Let’s order,” Grant said.
They ordered drinks, perused the menu and ordered dinner, then got down to business.
“So, what do you want from us?” Cable asked.
“It’s more what I’m going to give you,” Stone replied.
“How much is it going to cost me?”
“It’s a
freebie; I don’t want any glory, just to see justice done.”
Cable hooted with laughter.
Grant stepped in. “Hank, I think it might react to your benefit if you listened.”
“Okay, okay, shoot, Stone.”
Stone turned to Grant. “Rick, did you get anything on Barone Financial Services?”
“It’s registered with all the right state and federal agencies, but it’s some kind of bucket shop. Headquarters is a rundown office building on La Cienega; they’ve got the top floor, the sixth, about two thousand square feet of space.”
“Not a big outfit, then? Are there any other offices?”
“Just one, in Tijuana, Mexico.”
“Fairly weird.”
“What’s really weird is that this little outfit has forty telephone lines, including several special lines for fast modem transmissions.”
“Sounds like a bookie joint,” Cable said.
“You ever hear of a bookie operation that was registered with the state and federal governments as a broadbase financial services organization?” Grant asked.
“Now that you mention it, no,” the FBI agent replied.
“Neither have I,” Stone said. “What it sounds like to me is money laundering, especially with the Mexico connection.”