R Is for Ricochet

he's been taking his wife on a series of luxury cruises, moving the cash in a steamer trunk that he keeps in his stateroom."
    Turner polished off his bourbon, signaling the waiter for another round. "Anybody ever tell you how much money gets laundered every year worldwide?"
    I shook my head.
    "One-point-five trillion dollars – that's a one, a five, and eleven zeros – just so you get the picture. In the U.S., the figure's somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty billion, but we're talking about revenue that's never taxed, so you see how serious it gets."
    Cheney spoke up. "How much can you tell her about the investigation to date?"
    "Broad strokes? Four years ago the IRS, the DEA, the FBI, Customs, and the Justice and Treasury departments put together a task force to investigate gold and precious metals dealers in Los Angeles, Detroit, and Miami, all of whom we suspect are laundering money for a Colombian drug cartel. So far they've managed to place, layer, and integrate sixteen million dollars, running the cash through four businesses, using multiple accounts, at ten different banks, one of which has a branch here in town. Alan Beckwith is responsible for processing a substantial portion of that sum.
    "Ours is painstaking work. We're still sorting out the particulars, developing as much hard evidence as we can before we make our move. The trick is not to alert him until we have all our ducks in a row. A U.S. District Court judge in Los Angeles and another in Miami have recently approved electronic surveillance. That's allowed us to monitor Mr. Beckwith's phone conversations. We've also obtained authorization to seize and remove trash from his home and business premises. Right now we have our merry band of agents picking through his garbage. They've found invoices listing fictitious addresses for nonexistent businesses, assorted handwritten notes, canceled checks, discarded typewriter cartridges and adding-machine tape. Mr. Beckwith has legitimate dealings with financial institutions on a number of fronts, and he's skilled at mingling the profits from illegal activities with the mundane business he does from day to day. What he's apparently unaware of is that financial institutions are required to save signature cards, account statements, copies of checks written for any amount over a hundred dollars. The banks also retain a transaction log of wire transfers, so they can properly account for funds passing through the system. The information is all coded, but it's possible to use the sequence numbers to identify the source bank, the target bank, and the dates and times the money was sent on its way. We don't yet have access to these documents, but we're putting together the necessary paperwork to subpoena bank records."
    The waiter appeared, setting down Turner's second drink. A silence fell until he'd moved away from the table and out of earshot. Turner picked up his glass of bourbon. His drinking had slowed to a sipping pace, and I could see him savoring the taste.
    "What do you want from Reba? Surely you're not asking her to waltz in and lift all the pertinent files."
    "Not at all. In point of fact, we can't instruct her to do anything that violates the law because we're not at liberty to do so ourselves. Even if she stole the files without our prior knowledge or approval, we couldn't even peek at them without jeopardizing our case. What we
can
ask for is an in-depth description of his records – the nature of the files he has and where they're located – which will allow us to prepare financial and document search warrants. I understand you feel protective of Ms. Lafferty, but we need her cooperation."
    "Isn't there anybody else? What about his company comptroller?"
    "The company comptroller's a fellow named Marty Blumberg. We've thought of him. The problem is he's so deeply implicated he might panic and run, or worse, panic and warn Mr. Beckwith. Now that she's not working for him, Reba's been removed from the line of fire and she might be more inclined to help. Lieutenant Phillips showed you the photographs?"
    "Well, yeah, but I'm not sure what those are going to do for you. She finds out he's in trouble, she'll fall all over herself telling him whatever you tell her."
    "I gathered as much. Do you have a suggestion about how to contain her reaction?"
    "No. To me, it's like detonating a nuclear device. You risk as much destruction as you're hoping to unleash."
    Turner adjusted a minute irregularity in the