“Isn’t this extortion?” Walter said matter-of-factly. “You can’t get away with this. How can you expect something like this-”
“Extortion is a legal term, Walter. To be extortion I would have to receive the money or the foundation would have to be seen as acting as my agent, with a benefit accruing to me. Neither condition exists. There might be an element of blackmail in it-I grant you that-as it relates to me. It’s no doubt accurate to say I’m making ‘terroristic threats,’ and, of course, killing someone is always illegal-even threatening to kill someone. But the foundation will not be a party to any of this information. They will just receive the money. No, this is more like a drug dealer getting ripped off by someone who gives the money to charity.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
“Sure it does. Don’t thieves, even murderers, give money to charity? If a thief sent the United Way a thousand dollars or a million dollars, wouldn’t they be free to accept and use it? Or what if somebody earned money and didn’t report it, in fact didn’t even file a tax return, but donated ten thousand dollars to the American Heart Association-would they be free to accept and use it? Of course they would, provided they have no knowledge of any illegality that either prompted the contribution or involved the source of the contributor’s money. Enron made charitable contributions. Did they all give the money back?”
“And just how do you deal with all this without everyone knowing everything?”
“I won’t tell. You won’t tell. Stein, Maloney, and the two corporations won’t tell. Instead, they will hold very public press conferences, admit to their ill-gotten gains, express their deepest sorrow and remorse, speak movingly of their desire to atone for the sins of previous directors, and then… then they will donate this money in the manner I’ve prescribed. They have stockholders who must support these noble efforts. And I’m sure they will. They must be seen to act willingly, openly, and publicly. Except, however, there will be no mention whatsoever of my role in this.” The puzzled look on Walter’s face merely encouraged Leonard to go on. “You will deliver these instructions to Nathan Stein and Thomas Maloney. They face the task of telling the key people-all of whom are named in the documents-at SHI Inc. and Alliance Industries Inc. to do their part. Under the circumstances, I don’t think there’s any chance at all anyone will name me in this matter. I’m sure the history of my ‘bad acts’ thus far will help Stein and Maloney convince their friends.” Walter said nothing.
“As for Nathan Stein and Thomas Maloney,” Leonard went on, “an attorney in New York-a lawyer who knows nothing, not even who his client is-will open a checking account for each of them. Every week he will deposit five hundred dollars in each account. That is all the money Stein and Maloney can use. If they spend a dollar more than that, I will consider that they have used hidden funds, worked for money, borrowed money, or received gifts-none of which are allowed-and I will kill them.”
“Christ,” said Walter, scratching his head, running both hands through his hair and down the back of his neck. “What if they refuse?”
“That’s entirely up to them.”
“This is-”
“Revolutionary?”
“Revolutionary? Jesus Christ!”
“I don’t think he can help me with this.”
“Help? You seem to be doing quite enough on your own. What about Stevenson and Daniels and Carter Lawrence?”
“Nick and Harvey know nothing. I can’t be responsible for what they may think, but they know nothing. I’m sure they’ll be cooperative with the authorities. They’ll answer all their questions. They have nothing to hide and nothing to offer. Their truthful answers won’t change a thing. As for Carter, what can I say? We share a certain immunity, one which I have surely violated and forfeited. But he has not. Carter is a victim. As this unfolds, I’m sure the press will present him in a very favorable light. For law enforcement to pursue and harass Carter Lawrence while the real culprits live and go free-that can’t happen. And besides, he knows nothing or almost nothing. He never knew where I was, or when, and he doesn’t know where I am now. None of them-Nick, Harvey, or Carter-have any of these details, nor have any of them been privy to my activities up to now. I’ve never admitted to them what I’ve admitted to you. I’ve never discussed it with them. If you think about it, you and Isobel are the only people with specific knowledge, directly from me, about what I’ve already done and what I plan to do in the future. You heard what Isobel said. What she knows can’t be published without your own exposure, and even then, it lacks corroboration. Just your word. This conversation, for example.” Leonard looked around the patio, out toward the open sea, then behind him at the closed sliding doors, shrugged his shoulders, and said, “We’re alone. Just you and me, Walter. No corroboration.”
“Michael DelGrazo,” Walter said. “You might just as well have said Kaiser Zoesay.”
“Do you have any more questions about this?” Leonard asked.
“Did you shoot Pitts with the Walther? Why did you meet Carter Lawrence, Nick Stevenson, and Harvey Daniels in Clarksville, Tennessee? How come-”
“No, Walter. Only questions about this.” Leonard held up the folder with both hands. “You already know the answers to the other questions, most of them, anyway. And in time you’ll figure out what you don’t know now. But we’ll never speak of it. Never.”
“Dr. Roy?”
“Never.”
“You think this is justice, don’t you?” said Walter. “You’re acting righteously? You believe that, don’t you?” Now it was Leonard who chose silence. Walter continued. “Your wife, your daughter, your grandsons-they ate lunch and died. The meat killed them, and there were people who let that happen. What did you do? You killed those people, the ones who could have prevented it. One by one, you shot them down. For their complicity, they died.” A touch of sarcasm, mixed with murky anger, rose in Walter’s voice. “Oh, of course, you saved the best for last. The guilty must pay, and pay, and pay some more. What you’re doing to Stein and Maloney is worse than death, at least for them it will be. Shit, they go from living on five hundred dollars a minute to five hundred a week. How are they going to do that? They can’t live in their homes if their wives own and keep the property, or you’ll kill them. They can’t use a car that belongs to someone in the family, or you’ll kill them. They can’t wear the same clothes, make phone calls on the same cell phones, eat the same food, use the same health insurance-God knows what else they can’t touch, or you’ll kill them. But they can stay alive. That you’ll allow. For men like that, they’d be better off dead.” Walter leaned forward across the table separating the two men. Leonard was perfectly still, stoic.