“Goes with the territory, Matt.”
“That’s easy to say when you haven’t watched your wife get her brains blown out because of what her husband did for a living. How’s your wife by the way, George? Three kids too, right? Having kids and a wife must be nice.”
“All right, Matt. I get your point. I’m sorry.”
Riggs swallowed hard. He was feeling far more emotion than he had expected, but it did feel like yesterday and he had waited half a decade to say this. “It would’ve meant a lot more if you had said it five years ago, George.”
Riggs’s stare was so intense that Masters finally had to look down.
“Let’s get down to it,” Riggs finally said, breaking out of the past.
Masters put his elbows up on the table and glanced over at him. “FYI, I was in Charlottesville two nights ago.”
“Beautiful little college town.”
“Visited a couple of places. Thought I might see you.”
“I’m a working man. Gotta keep busy.”
Masters eyed the sling. “Accident?”
“The construction business can be very hazardous. I’m here to strike a deal, George. A mutually satisfactory deal.”
“Do you know where LuAnn Tyler is?” Berman leaned forward, his eyes darting all over Riggs’s face.
Riggs cocked his head at the other man. “I’ve got her down in the car, Lou, you want to go check? Here.” Riggs reached in his pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and dangled them in front of the FBI agent. They were the keys to his house, but Riggs figured Berman wouldn’t take him up on the offer.
“I’m not here to play games,” Berman snarled.
Riggs put the keys away and leaned forward. “Neither am I. Like I said, I’m here to make a deal. You want to hear it?”
“Why should we deal? How do we know you’re not working with Tyler?”
“What do you care if I am?”
Berman’s face turned red. “She’s a criminal.”
“I worked with criminals most of my career, Lou. And who says she’s a criminal?”
“The state of Georgia.”
“Have you really looked at that case? I mean really looked at it. My sources say it’s bullshit.”
“Your sources?” Berman almost laughed.
Masters intervened. “I’ve looked at it, Matt. It probably is bullshit.” He glowered over at Berman. “And even if it isn’t, it’s Georgia’s problem, not ours.”
“Right, and your interests should lie elsewhere.”
Berman refused to give it up. “She’s also a tax evader. She won a hundred million bucks and then disappeared for ten years and hasn’t paid Uncle Sam a dime.”
“I thought you were an FBI agent, not an accountant,” Riggs shot back.
“Let’s settle down, guys,” Masters said.
Riggs leaned forward. “I thought you’d be a lot more interested in the person behind LuAnn Tyler, the person behind a lot of people. The invisible guy with billions of dollars running around the planet playing games, causing havoc, making your lives miserable. Now, do you want to get to him, or do you want to talk to LuAnn Tyler about her itemized deductions?”
“What are you suggesting?”
Riggs sat back. “Just like old times, George. We reel in the big fish and let the little one go.”
“I don’t like it,” Berman grumbled.
Riggs’s eyes played over the man’s features. “Based upon my experience at the Bureau, catching the big fish gets you promoted and, more important, gets you pay raises; delivering the small fry doesn’t.”
“Don’t lecture me on the FBI, Riggs, I’ve been around the block a few times.”
“Good, Lou, then I shouldn’t have to waste time on this crap. We deliver you the man and LuAnn Tyler walks. And I mean from everything — federal, taxes, and the state of Georgia.”
“We can’t guarantee that, Matt. The boys at the IRS go their own way.”
“Well, maybe she pays some money.”
“Maybe she pays a lot of money.”
“But no jail. Unless we can agree on that, it’s a no go. You have to make the murder charge go away.”
“How about we arrest you right now and hold you until you tell us where she is?” Berman was inching forward, crowding Riggs.
“Then how about you never break the biggest case of your career. Because LuAnn Tyler will disappear again and you’ll be stuck at point A again. And on what charge would you be holding me by the way?”
“Accessory,” Berman fired back.
“Accessory to what?”
Berman thought for a moment. “Aiding and abetting a fugitive.”
“What proof do you have of that? What actual proof do you have that I even know where she is, or have ever even met her?”
“You’ve been investigating her. We saw the notes in your house.”
“Oh, so you came by my house on your visit to Charlottesville? You should’ve called ahead. I would’ve fixed up something nice for dinner.”
“And we found lots of interesting stuff,” Berman snapped.
“Good for you. Can I see the search warrant you used to enter my premises without permission?”
Berman started to say something and then clamped his mouth shut.
A thin smile broke across Riggs’s face. “Great. No search warrant. All inadmissible. And since when is it a crime to make a phone call and get some public information on someone? Considering that I got that information from the Feds.”
“Your WPP handler, not us,” Berman said threateningly.
“I guess I treat all you guys as one big, happy family.”
Masters started speaking slowly. “Supposing we do go along, you haven’t given us the connection between Tyler and this other person.”
Riggs had been expecting this question and was surprised it hadn’t come up before. “He had to get the money from somewhere.”
Masters considered this statement for a moment, and then his eyes flickered. “Listen, Matt, this is a little bigger than you probably know.” He looked over at Berman briefly before continuing. “We know — or rather we think — the lottery was...” Masters paused, searching for the right words. “We believe the lottery may have been compromised. Was it?”
Riggs sat back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the table. “Maybe.”
Masters again chose his words carefully. “Let me make this real clear to you. The president, the A.G., the director of the FBI, they’ve all been apprised of this possibility. I can tell you that their collective reaction was one of absolute shock.”
“Bully for them.”
Masters ignored Riggs’s sarcastic tone. “If the lottery was fixed, then this situation has to be handled very delicately.”
Riggs chuckled. “Translation: If it ever gets out to the public, half the guys in Washington, including the president, the A.G., the director, and you two guys, will probably be looking through the want ads. So what you’re suggesting is a major cover-up.”
“Hey, this all probably happened ten years ago. It didn’t occur on our watch,” Berman said.
“Gee, Lou, that’ll go over real big with John Q. Public. All of your butts are on the line here and you know it.”
Masters banged his fist down on the table. “Do you realize what would happen if it becomes public that the lottery was fixed?” Masters said hotly. “Can you imagine the lawsuits, the investigations, the scandals, the blow it would give the old U.S. of A. right in the gut? It would almost be like the country defaulting on its debt. It cannot be allowed to happen. It will not be allowed to happen.”
“So what’s your suggestion, George?”
Masters rapidly calmed down and ticked off the points with his fingers. “You bring in Tyler. We question her, we get her cooperation. With that information in hand we bring in the people—”