"It's best to keep it that way;'Yarber said.
"Fair enough. I didn't volunteer for this job."
"What will you get out of it?" Spicer asked.
"Early release. I'll spend a few more weeks around here, then they'll move me again. I'll walk by the end of the year, and if Mr. Lake gets elected then I'll get a full pardon. Not a bad deal. My brother gets a huge favor from the next President."
"So you're the negotiator?" Beech said.
"No, I'm the messenger."
"Then shall we begin?"
"The first move belongs to you."
"You've got the letter. We want some money and we want out of this place."
"How much money?"
"Two million each;" Spicer said, and it was obvious this had been discussed many times already. All six eyes watched Argrow, waiting for the twitch, the fiown, the shock. But there was no reaction, just a pause as he returned their stares. "I have no authority here, okay? I can't say yes or no to your demands. All I do is relay the details to my brother."
"We read the newspaper every day;" Beech said.
"Mr. Lake has more money than he can spend right now. Six million is a drop in the bucket."
"He has seventy-eight million on hand, with no debt,"Yarber added.
"Whatever," Argrow said. "I'm just the courier, the mail runner, sort of like Trevor."
They froze again, with the mention of their dead lawyer. They glared at Argrow, whose fingernails had caught his attention, and they wondered if the Trevor comment had been laid across the table as some sort of warning. How deadly had their game become? They were giddy with thoughts of money and freedom, but how safe were they now? How safe would they be in the future?
They would always know Lake's secret.
"And the terms of the money?" Argrow asked.
"Very simple;" Spicer said. "All of it up front, all of it wired to some delightful little place, probably Panama."
"Okay. Now what about your release?" Argrow asked.
"What about it?" asked Beech.
"Any suggestions?"
"Not really We thought Mr. Lake could take care of that. He has lots of friends these days."
"Yes, but he's not the President yet. He can't lean on the right people yet."
"We're not waiting until January when he's inaugurated," Yarber said. "In fact, we're not waiting until November to see if he wins."
"So you want to be released now?"
"Pretty damned quick;" Spicer said.
"Does it matter how you're released?"
They thought for a moment, then Beech said, "It has to be clean. We're not running for the rest of our lives. We're not looking over our shoulders."
"Do you leave together?"
"Yes;"Yarber said. "And we have some definite plans on how we want to do it. First, though, we need to agree on the important things--money, and exactly when we walk out of here."
"Fair enough. From this side of the table, they'll want your files, all of the letters and notes and records from your scam. Obviously, Mr. Lake has to receive assurances that the secrets will be buried."
"If we get what we want;" Beech said, "he has nothing to worry about. We'll gladly forget we ever heard of Aaron Lake. But we must warn you, so you can warn Mr. Lake, that if anything happens to us, his story will be told anyway"
"We have an outside contact;'Yarber said.
"It's a delayed reaction;" Spicer added, as if he were helping explain the unexplainable. "Something happens to us, like, for instance, the same thing that happened to Trevor, and a few days later a little delay bomb goes off. Mr. Lake gets himself outed anyway"
"That won't happen,"Argnow said.
"You're the messenger. You don't know what will or will not happen;" Beech said, lecturing. "These are the same people who killed Trevor."
"You're not sure of that."
"No, but we have our opinions."
"Let's not argue something we can't prove, gentlemen," Argrow said, ending the session. "I'll see my brother at nine in the morning. Let's meet here at ten.
Argrow left the room, left them sitting trancelike, deep in thought, counting their money but afraid to start spending it. He headed for the track, but turned away when he saw a group of inmates jogging. He roamed the grounds until he found a secluded spot behind the cafeteria, then he called Klockner.
Within an hour, Teddy was briefed.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The 6 a.m.bell shrieked through Trumble, through the corridors of the dorms, across the lawns, around the buildings, into the surrounding woods. It lasted for exactly thirty-five seconds, most inmates could tell you, and by the time it quit no one was left asleep. It jolted them to life, as if important events were planned that day, and they had to hurry and get ready. But the only pressing matter was breakfast.
The bell startled Beech, Spicer, and Yarber, but it didn't wake them. Sleep had been elusive, the reasons obvious. They lived in different dorms, but not surprisingly they met in line for coffee, at ten minutes after six. With their tall cups, and without a word, they walked to the basketball court where they sat on a bench and sipped in the early dawn. They watched the prison grounds; the track was behind them.
How many more days would they wear their olive shirts and sit in the Florida heat, getting paid pennies by the hour for doing nothing, just waiting, dreaming, drinking endless cups of coffee? Would it be a month,
or two? Were they talking days now? The possibilities had robbed them of sleep.
"There are only two possible ways," Beech was saying. He was the federal judge, and they listened carefully, though it was familiar ground. "The first is to go back to the sentencing jurisdiction and file a motion for reduced time. Under very narrow circumstances, the trial judge has the authority to release an inmate. It's rarely done, though."
"Did you ever do it?" Spicer asked. No.
"Asshole."
"For what reasons?" Yarber asked.
"Only when the prisoner has provided new information about old crimes. If the prisoner provides substantial assistance to the authorities, then he might get a few years off."
"That's not encouraging;'Yarber said.
"What's number two?" Spicer asked.
"We're shipped out to a halfway house, a really nice one where they don't expect us to live by the rules. The Bureau of prisons has sole authority in placing inmates. If the right pressure is applied by our new friends in Washington, then the Bureau could move us out and basically forget about us."
"Don't you have to live in a halfway house?" Spicer asked.
"Yes, in most of them. But they're all different. Some are locked down at night, with strict rules. Others are very laid back.You can phone in once a day, or once a week. It's all up to the Bureau."
"But we'll still be convicted felons;" Spicer said.
"Doesn't bother me," Yarber said. "I'll never vote again:"
"I have an idea," Beech said. "It came to me last night. As part of our negotiations, we make Lake agree to pardon us if he's elected."
"I thought of that too;" Spicer said.
"So did I;" saidYarber. "But who cares if we have a record? The only thing that matters is that we get out."
"It won't hurt to ask," Beech replied. They concentrated on their coffee for a few minutes.
"Argrow's making me nervous;" Finn finally said.