"Not at all. In point of fact, we can't instruct her to do anything that violates the law because we're not at liberty to do so ourselves. Even if she stole the files without our prior knowledge or approval, we couldn't even peek at them without jeopardizing our case. What we can ask for is an in-depth description of his records – the nature of the files he has and where they're located – which will allow us to prepare financial and document search warrants. I understand you feel protective of Ms. Lafferty, but we need her cooperation."

"Isn't there anybody else? What about his company comptroller?"

"The company comptroller's a fellow named Marty Blumberg. We've thought of him. The problem is he's so deeply implicated he might panic and run, or worse, panic and warn Mr. Beckwith. Now that she's not working for him, Reba's been removed from the line of fire and she might be more inclined to help. Lieutenant Phillips showed you the photographs?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm not sure what those are going to do for you. She finds out he's in trouble, she'll fall all over herself telling him whatever you tell her."

"I gathered as much. Do you have a suggestion about how to contain her reaction?"

"No. To me, it's like detonating a nuclear device. You risk as much destruction as you're hoping to unleash."

Turner adjusted a minute irregularity in the flatware he'd aligned. "Point taken. Unfortunately, we don't have much time. Mr. Beckwith has uncanny survival instincts. We've been discreet, but from the intelligence we've gathered, he may well suspect there's something afoot. He's consolidating his funds, picking up the pace, which we find worrisome."

"Reba mentioned that, but she's convinced he's doing it for her. He says once his assets are secure, he'll dump his wife and the two of them can hit the highway. Or that's what she hears. Who knows the truth of it?"

"There's no doubt he's preparing to make a run for it. Another week and he might succeed in placing the cash and himself beyond our reach."

"Does the money belong to him or Salustio Castillo?"

"His, in the main. If he's smart, he'll keep his hands off Salustio's cash. Last guy who crossed Castillo got turned into a concrete popsicle in a twenty-gallon garbage can."

Once it was clear Vince was finished, Cheney said, "So. Who talks to Reba? You, me, or her."

There was a silence while all three of us stared at the tabletop. Finally, I raised my hand. "I've got a better shot at it than either one of you."