R Is for Ricochet

you figure that?"
    "Well, A: You know what he's been up to, and B: Beck won't go down for this any more than he'd accept blame for the missing three hundred and fifty thou."
    "I thought you volunteered."
    "Stupnagel that I am, I made it easy for him. I'd like to think you're smarter than me, but maybe not."
    "He can't do anything to me. I'm covered."
    "You really think so? All he has to do is point. You've got your fingerprints on everything. You're the one who set up the accounts. Same with the offshore banks and the IBC."
    "Exactly. I've got leverage on him. I'm the last guy on earth he ought to fuck with."
    "I don't know," she said, with skepticism. "You've been with him a long time…"
    "Ten years."
    "Right. Which means you know a lot more than I do."
    "So?"
    "So if he stuck it to me, he can stick it to you as well. Believe me, the trap's there. You just can't see it at this point any more than I saw what he was doing to me until it was too late."
    "I got no beef with Beck. The guy takes good care of me. Ten years, you know how much money I've managed to sock away? I could retire anytime I want, walk out tomorrow and still be living like a king."
    "It may feel cushy, but it's a trap all the same."
    Marty was shaking his head. "No. Uhn-uhn. I'm not buying it."
    "What if they lean on you?"
    "They, who?"
    "The feds. What do you think I just got done telling you. The FBI, IRS, what's the other one?" she asked me, snapping her fingers impatiently.
    "Department of Justice," I said.
    She turned to me and frowned. "I thought you mentioned a couple more."
    I cleared my throat. "Customs and Treasury. And the DEA."
    "See?" she said to him as though that explained that.
    "Why lean on me? Based on what?"
    "Based on all the shit they've picked up so far."
    "From who?"
    "You think they don't have agents in place?"
    He laughed, albeit uneasily. "What 'agents'? That's bull."
    "Sorry. I misspoke myself. I said 'agents' in the plural. There's really only one."
    "Who?"
    "See if you can guess. Here, I'll give you a hint. Who in the company has gotten close to Beck in the last umpty-many months? Hmmm." She put a finger against her cheek, deep in mock thought. "Starts with O."
    "Onni?"
    "There you go," she said. "Talk about a break. I get sent to prison and that gives her the chance to slide right in."
    "She works for the feds?"
    Reba nodded. "Oh yeah, for
years,
and trust me, Little Miss Onni wants his ass on a plate."
    "I don't believe it."
    "Marty, this is her golden opportunity. You know how it is with women in these shit government jobs. Sure, they get hired. The guys let 'em do all the grunt work, but forget about promotion. There's no upward mobility without a coup of some kind. She doesn't pull this off, she'll be stuck where she is."
    "Doesn't sound right. Are you sure? This makes no sense at all. The girl's dumb as a post."
    "That's the
impression
she gives, but she's wily as they come. I'm telling you, she's good. You watch. This lady can write her own ticket, provided she nails Beck first. I mean, look at it this way. Does anybody in the company suspect? You sure as shit didn't and Beck doesn't have a clue. If he knew what was going on, he'd be out the door like a shot. Wouldn't he?"
    "Well, yeah."
    "You better believe it," she said. "Meanwhile, there she is with a finger in every pie, access to everything. What a sweet deal for her."
    Marty seemed to be getting annoyed, though I noticed two blotches on the front of his shirt where the sweat was soaking through. "Look, Reb. I know you're pissed at him and I don't blame you -"
    "Sure, I'm pissed at him, but I'm not pissed at you, which is why I'm here. I'm trusting you to keep your mouth shut. I haven't breathed a word of this to anyone else. She's after his balls. She's so gung-ho she's willing to screw the guy to get the drop on him."
    Marty was silent. I could hear him breathing as though he'd just finished running six blocks. "You can't just make claims -"
    "I know. You're a man of common sense and you're hard to convince, which is why I brought these." She slid the black-and-white photos from the envelope and passed them over to him.
    Marty leafed through them. "Jesus."
    "See what I mean?"
    "What's he
thinking?"
    "He's not thinking. He's got his brain between his legs. Really, you hadn't guessed he was screwing her? You knew he was doing me."
    "Yeah, but you made no secret you had the hots for him. This, I don't know. Shouldn't somebody tell him what's going on?"
    Reba