“Thank you.” I hung and called Travis. “It’s on.”
The story hit the paper that next morning.
Chapter 38
I sat in my office at Cuisine that next morning and read the paper. Fremeno had written a very interesting article that took his readers step-by-step through Cash Money’s murder to Mylo and his meeting with Masters, and dropped the whole thing on Vinnelli, just the way I planned.
I looked at my watch. It was ten-thirty. If FedEx was as good as their word, Mrs. Vinnelli should have pictures of her husband with Eileen McManus, and details of their affair. Eileen McManus, on the other hand, should have pictures of Vinnelli with Pamela Connote. That by itself was enough to wreck his world, but it would be just the beginning.
Kevon came to the table with the phone in his hand. “It’s Travis.”
“Good morning, Travis. Tell me something positive.”
“I just left the bank with a check made out the way you asked, for three million, eight hundred thousand dollars.”
“Now that’s positive. Any problems?”
“None.”
“You take care of your people?”
“Yes, sir,” Travis said. I gave him a quarter of a million dollars to give his contact for her part in the plan. “I’m on my way to the airport now, so I’ll so you this afternoon.”
“Good man. I’ll have your money waiting for you when you get here.”
When Travis got back, I would have a million dollars in cash ready for him. I told Nick to find somebody else to baby-sit Jackie at the game. I could use Travis for other things on both sides of the house. Him and Monika were going to be very valuable people to have around.
When I hung up the phone Kevon came back in the office. “You never guess who is here to see you, boss.”
“Martin Marshall.”
Kevon looked at his watch. “More than an hour before you say he be here.”
“Show him in.”
A few minutes later Martin was shutting the door to my office. You know, for some reason, he didn’t look happy. He walked up to the desk and saw the paper.
“That your doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Martin. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”
“Whiskey.”
“How do you take it?” I asked and got up to fix us both a drink.
“In a glass.” Martin picked up the paper from my desk and started mumbling as he looked at it.
“Here you go, Martin.” I handed him his glass and sat down.
Martin dropped the paper on the desk and leaned forward. “Fremeno could have only gotten this stuff from you,” he said and pointed to the article. “When I gave you that name I thought you would just take his money and kill him, not go running to the press with it.” Martin sat back in his chair. “When they start digging into this, Vinnelli will flip on me if it comes down to it.”
“You’ll be all right, Martin. I hear you’re Teflon. Nothing sticks to you. And besides, Vinnelli is gonna be too busy with his own issues to even remember your name.”
“I’m running for congress, Black. He’s gonna remember my name.”
“Don’t comment on it, or make some bullshit statement supporting the integrity of the DEA. Ain’t that what you politicians do?”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to handle the press. The fact is that I trusted you, and you fucked me.”