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“Nearly sixteen million of them,” Ordóñez said. “And did you find out?”
Yung nodded.
“Are you going to tell me?”
“It’s money from that Iraqi oil-for-food scheme. Lorimer was involved in that.”
“You know, I never even thought about that? That answers some questions, doesn’t it? And poses at least as many more. I’ll have to give this a good deal of thought.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“And do you know where that money is now?”
“Next question.”
Ordóñez smiled. “You did a very good job of concealing tracks at the banks when you came back down here, David, but not a perfect one. I have learned that the receipts—or whatever they’re called—for the money in Lorimer’s accounts here were negotiated through the Riggs Bank in Washington. That makes me think they were in Lorimer’s safe at the estancia and somehow taken to Washington. I would have been prone to think Señor Pevsner had something to do with that. But if that were so, why did you try to conceal the tracks?”
“That was a rhetorical question, right? You didn’t expect an answer?”
“Right.”
“Boy Scout’s honor, José, I have never knowingly done anything that would in any way help Aleksandr Pevsner. From everything I know about the sonofabitch, he deserves to be behind bars. Or dead. I don’t know—can’t prove—that he’s after the Munzes, but I believe it.”
“So do I. The question is why? Can you put me in touch with Alfredo?”
“When I get to the States—that’ll be tomorrow—I’ll get word to Munz that you want to talk to him. And that you helped us get his family to the States.”
“I would appreciate that. That leaves only two things for me to do.”
“And what are they?”
“I’ll make sure that no one gets close to the Belmont House tonight who shouldn’t be there. And then you and I will walk down there and say hello to my cousin Julio and you will tell him that you and I are agreed that we are the good guys.”
“Okay. I’ve got to give him a charger for his cellular, anyway.”
“And one more thing,” Ordóñez said. He wrote something in a small notebook, tore out the page and handed it to Yung.
“What’s this?”
“The address of a good auto-body repairman. I told you I’d give it to you.”
“Thank you,” Yung said.
“And one last thing, David. I really wish you wouldn’t get on the phone and tell Colonel Castillo about our conversation.”
“I’m going to have to tell him, José.”
“Oh, I know. But if you call him tonight, your phones are tapped—cellular and regular—and I would rather not have a record of our conversation floating around. We both said, and are doing things, that we really shouldn’t be doing. Let’s keep that between us.”
After a moment, Yung nodded.
Ordóñez went on: “You’ll have a few minutes to speak with Colonel Castillo—or someone close to him—at the airport tomorrow. Maybe if he knows what I’ve told you, he will tell me something he knows that may help me sort all this out.”
Yung didn’t reply.
“Can Castillo get the Munzes into the United States if their passports do not have exit stamps from Uruguay?”
Castillo could get them into the States if they arrived without passports.
