The Whistler (The Whistler #1)(12)
Hugo laughed and said, “Right, you gotta stop at a tollbooth about a mile from the casino and pay five bucks to keep going.”
“It’s actually worked out fine. The Indians are happy now and the county gets a few bucks. So when Dubose and Judge McDover had their little spat, she got a lawyer buddy to ask for an injunction on the grounds that the tollbooths were crowded and unsafe. There might have been a couple of fender benders but nothing serious. It was completely bogus crap, but she immediately issued an injunction closing the toll road. The casino stayed open because a few folks managed to trickle in from the back roads and such, but it was effectively shut down. This went on for six days as Vonn and Claudia waited for the other to blink. Finally, they got on the same page, the bogus injunction was lifted, and everybody was happy. It was a pivotal moment in the history of the casino and the corruption it has created. Judge McDover let everybody know that she’s in charge.”
Hugo said, “You talk about Dubose as if everyone knows him.”
“No one knows him. I thought I made that clear. He runs an organization, a small one in which the big boys are related and everybody is getting plenty of money. He tells a cousin to charter an LLC out of Bermuda and buy some acreage. Another cousin incorporates in Barbados and trades some condos. Dubose is protected by layers of offshore shell companies. He has no profile, leaves no trail.”
“Who does his legal work?” Lacy asked.
“A small firm in Biloxi, a couple of tax lawyers who are skilled at dirty work. They’ve represented the Dubose gang for years.”
Lacy said, “It sounds as though Judge McDover is not afraid of Dubose.”
“Dubose is too smart to take out a judge, though I’m sure he’s thought about it. He needs her. She needs him. Think about it. You’re an ambitious and crooked real estate developer in Florida, plus you practically own a casino, which is illegal of course, so you need a lot of protection. What could be more valuable than having a well-respected judge in your back pocket?”
“This has RICO stamped all over it,” Hugo said.
“Yes, but we’re not going RICO, are we, Mr. Hatch? RICO is federal; federal is FBI. I don’t care what happens to Dubose. I want to bust Judge McDover so my client can collect a small fortune for blowing the whistle.”
“How small?” Lacy asked.
Myers finished a beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I don’t know. I guess your job is to find out.” Carlita stepped up from the cabin and said, “Lunch is ready.”
Myers stood and said, “Please join me.”
Lacy and Hugo exchanged quick glances. They had been there for two hours, were starving and not sure where they would find lunch, but suddenly uncertain as to whether it was a good idea to eat on the boat. Myers, though, was already stepping below. “Come on, come on,” he said, and they followed him down into the cabin. Three places were set at a glass-top table in the cramped galley. An air conditioner somewhere was hard at work and the air was refreshingly cool. The smell of grilled fish hung heavy. Carlita scurried about, obviously delighted to have someone to cook for. She served a platter of fish tacos, poured sparkling water from a bottle, and asked if anyone wanted wine. No one did, and she disappeared deeper into the cabin.
Myers did not touch his food, but instead resumed his narrative. “This complaint is not the one I want to file. In this one I allege corruption only to the extent of the condos owned by Judge McDover in Rabbit Run. The real money in this little conspiracy is her portion of the monthly skim from the casino. That’s what I’m really after because it’s a gold mine for my client. If I can nail that down, I’ll amend the complaint. If not, there are sufficient allegations to get her removed from the bench, and probably indicted.”
“Do you mention the name of Vonn Dubose in the complaint?” Lacy asked.
“No. I refer to his corporations as ‘criminal entities.’?”
“That’s original,” Lacy said.
“You got a better idea, Ms. Stoltz?” Myers shot back.
“Can we drop the Mister and Missus stuff??” Hugo asked. “She’s Lacy. You’re Greg. I’m Hugo.”
“Fair enough.” All three took a bite, and as he chewed rapidly Myers kept talking, with his mouth barely closed. “A question. The statute says you have forty-five days from today to serve a copy of the complaint on Judge McDover. From now until then, you do your investigation, the, uh, what’s it called?”
“Assessment.”
“Right. Well, that worries me. I’m convinced these people have no idea that anyone is onto their enterprise, their dealings, and when Judge McDover gets a copy of this complaint she’ll be shocked. Her first phone call will be to Dubose, and at that point a lot of crazy stuff could start happening. She’ll lawyer up immediately, deny everything vehemently, and probably start moving assets around. Dubose will panic, circle the wagons, maybe even start looking for someone to intimidate.”
“Your question?”
“Okay, how long can you really wait before you lay this on her? How long can you stall? It seems to me it’s crucial to do as much investigating as possible before she knows you’re doing it.”
Lacy and Hugo studied each other. She shrugged and said, “We’re bureaucrats so we know how to stall. However, if she attacks the way you predict, her lawyers will nitpick everything. If we don’t follow the statute to the letter, they’ll push hard to dismiss the complaint.”