Flash

through an outside agency."
    It took Jasper less than three minutes to determine that there was no record of air travel for anyone connected to the Lancaster Campaign during the period when he, himself, had been rusticating on Pelapili Island.
    Obviously he had been paranoid, after all.
    "That's strange." Todd scanned the travel sheets. "I know Haggard was out of town for a couple of days. And I'm damn sure he wouldn't have paid for his own airfare. He was too cheap. Hang on, I'll ask Sally if she remembers how that trip was handled."
    Sally proved to be the blond receptionist. She, too, recalled that Haggard had been out of town on a business trip.
    "He didn't ask me to make the arrangements with the travel agency the way he usually did, though," she said. "I assumed he made them himself."
    Todd glanced at the clock. "If it's that important, I can call the agency. It opens early."
    "I'd really like to get some answers," Jasper said.
    "I would, too." Todd picked up the phone. "Looks like I'm going to be spending my whole day on financial matters."
    Ten minutes later Todd hung up the phone again. He looked at Jasper with a troubled expression.
    "The agency has no record of any bookings for Dixon Haggard or anyone else connected to the campaign around that time. Any other ideas?"
    "Dixon could have made his own reservations. Let's try another angle. Do you have a record of which VIP donor he went to see?"
    "Of course." Todd grimaced. "At least, we sure as hell better have a record. Eleanor was scrupulous about the records of all campaign finances, but after what's happened at the bank this morning, I don't know—" He broke off. "Forget it. That's another problem. Let me get the info on big donors out of the computer."
    A few minutes later Todd conceded defeat. There was no record of any major donation to the Lancaster campaign during the entire week following the twenty-sixth.
    "I don't understand this," Todd said. "I know Haggard was out of town, and he told me, himself, he was off to take care of a big donor."
    "The phrase
take care of
has a variety of different meanings."
    Todd frowned. "What are you getting at here?"
    "I'll tell you after we check a couple of other things."
    "Why don't you tell me now?"
    "Because I'm going to marry your sister," Jasper said dryly. "I'd like, to make a good impression on the family. I don't want the Chantrys thinking that I've got an acute paranoia disorder."
    "The Chantrys are a many and varied clan. In the grand scheme of things, paranoia would probably be viewed as a relatively minor affliction."
    "I appreciate that." Jasper glanced at the glowing computer screen. "Can you access the campaign bank account?"
    "Sure. I've been working on that damned account all morning." Todd swung around in his chair and punched in some letters and numbers.
    A moment later the record of transactions appeared.
    "Go back to the period around the twenty-sixth," Jasper said.
    A list of deposits received and checks issued by the campaign arrayed itself neatly on the screen. Jasper studied the numbers for a few minutes.
    "See anything interesting?" Todd asked.
    "That two thousand dollars on the twenty-fourth," Jasper said slowly. "It was not a check issued to pay a bill."
    "No." Todd eyed the screen more closely. "The money was transferred into another account." He pointed to a string of numbers that followed the record of the transaction. "That one."
    "I don't suppose you recognize the number of that account?"
    "No, but it shouldn't be too hard to get the name on it."
    "Let's start with Dixon Haggard," Jasper said.
    Todd looked thoughtful. "Easy enough to do. Dixon was usually too busy to go to the bank. He often sent Sally. She probably has some of his deposit slips in her desk drawer."
    The fog that had clouded portions of the scene was finally beginning to clear. Soon, Jasper thought, he would have the whole picture. He was suddenly in a great hurry to get the answers. An unpleasant sense of urgency slid through him.
    He should have come here sooner, he thought. He had the uneasy feeling that his timing was a little off this morning.
    "Get Sally in here," he said. "Now."

31
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    O livia glanced at her watch as she walked across the old, scarred timbers that formed the floor of the cavernous warehouse.
    Bolivar, Bernie, and Matty were late. She had phoned the studio just before leaving the condo and left a message instructing them to meet her here. They were probably still enjoying their