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“Then I guess we have a problem,” Sean said. “And if you’re thinking of maybe eliminating the two problems you see sitting in front of you, think about this. I had five copies made of that video. And they’re all in very safe places. Now unless Michelle and I die in our sleep at age ninety, one copy is going to be delivered to my aforementioned Pulitzer-hungry friend so he can write the story first, with other copies going to the New York Times, the Washington Post and the Times of London.”
“That only makes four. What about the fifth one?”
“That goes to the president. I bet he’d get a real kick out of it.”
“And yet as you pointed out we seem to have reached an impasse.”
Sean stood and paced. “Good lawyers always think of a compromise so here’s one for you. There’s a hidden treasure at Camp Peary.”
“Excuse me,” the man said, startled.
“Just shut up and listen. It’s hidden in the foundation wall of Lord Dunmore’s Porto Bello lodge. Gold, silver, jewels. The whole thing’s easily worth millions.”
“My God!” the man exclaimed.
“Yeah, before you get permanent dollar signs etched in your eyes that treasure is to be taken and sold for the highest possible price. Hell, if the government wants to buy it they can. I don’t really care. But the proceeds of those funds will be divided into three equal shares.”
The man pulled out a pen and a piece of paper. “All right. Presumably with one share going to each of you.”
“No!” Sean snapped. “One share goes to Viggie Turing. It won’t make up for her dad getting killed but it’s a start. The second share goes to Len Rivest’s two kids. They’re in college and could probably use the money. And the third share goes to the family of the medical examiner who was killed in that gas explosion. You got that?”
The man finished writing and nodded. “Got it.”
“Good. Now I’m going to check on the amounts paid over to them so don’t try to screw with me on the dollars. And I don’t care if it takes an act of Congress, but all the money goes to them tax-free.”
The man said, “That won’t be a problem.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“And we want to see Viggie, to make sure she’s all right,” Michelle added.
“That can be arranged.”
“Then arrange it,” Sean said. “Sooner rather than later.”
“Give us one week and it’ll all be done.”
“Make sure it is.”
“And you’ll say nothing about any of this?” the man asked.
“That’s right. I’m not looking to go to prison.”
“And who would believe us anyway?” Michelle added.
“And then we get the copies?” the man asked.
“And then you get the copies.”
“And we can trust you?”
“As much as I can trust you,” Sean said.
CHAPTER
92
A WEEK LATER SEAN AND MICHELLE met with Joan Dillinger in her office, along with another man who gave neither his name nor affiliation. He would only say that the ownership of Babbage Town was grateful for the work done by them and he had presented them directly with a check. The amount, Sean quickly saw, would resolve all their financial problems for the foreseeable future and fund some vacation time as well. They certainly needed it.
