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“They’re a Panamanian company, registered to do business in the U.S.”
Crisp kept writing as Singleton gave him what he had on BOP.
Holly’s secretary buzzed her. “Harry Crisp on line one.”
She picked up the phone. “Harry, how are you?”
“I’m good, Holly, you?”
“Good.”
“How’s Ham? He all healed up?”
“Sure, a long time ago.” Ham had been shot while playing a key role in an FBI investigation.
“We’ve always been grateful for his help on that thing, you know.”
“Then you might tell him so.”
“I had the attorney general write him a letter,” Crisp said. “What does he want, a handwritten note from the president?”
“Forget it, Harry. What’s up?”
“Remember Palmetto Gardens?”
“How could I forget?” She had put the FBI onto what was happening there and had been very important in cracking the case.
“It sold the other day.”
“I saw something in the local paper about it. Whoever bought it got a real deal.”
“Yeah. Problem is, two Miami developers who were supposed to bid got themselves murdered before they could submit something.”
“Oh, yeah. I read about that in the New York Times. I even talked to the investigating officer about it.”
“Why?”
“We had an attempt on a developer’s life up here a couple of weeks back—a retired developer from New York.”
“Tell me about it.”
“A single rifle shot, missed him by inches, went in one side of the man’s greenhouse, came out the other. Assassin’s weapon.”
“You investigated this?”
“I was standing next to the man when it happened.”
“Who is he?”
“Name is Ed Shine.” She spelled it for him.
“I’ll run it, see if we come up with something.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know if he bid on the property?”
“I have no idea.”
