Page 47 of Sting
“He didn’t come down for breakfast. Marshals went to check. Room was empty, bed still made.”
“I thought he had one of those ankle monitors.”
“Clever little shit got it off. They found it in the bathroom. That was Tuesday. Then last night…” He filled her in on everything that had occurred since Hick’s initial call.
“He and I agreed to take a short break, then we’ve got to jump back in. Now that Josh Bennett’s sister is missing, and the whole mess resurrected, I may have to change my mind about announcing his escape. In any case, I won’t be going to the carnival. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She stroked his head. She knew better than anyone how badly the Billy Panella case had eaten at him.
Over a three-year period, Panella had craftily enticed the clients of his investment firm to put their money into phony stocks, municipal bonds, pharmaceuticals to cure cancer, energy exploration that was ecofriendly, resorts and exclusive retirement communities, even shrimp and catfish farms—none of which existed.
With Josh Bennett’s wizardry with numbers and money-juggling skills, Panella had committed fraud to the tune of thirty million dollars and change. He had made everything work for a while, paying occasional dividends with the promise of big payoffs to come.
They never did. Dividends got smaller, while growing larger were the number of client complaints filed with the FTC, SEC, et cetera, until a fat file landed in Joe’s division and he initiated a full-fledged but covert investigation of the Panella Investments Group.
After months of study, he and Hick determined that Josh Bennett was the weak link in the partnership. They approached him, told him that his and Panella’s scam was screwed, and offered to reduce the charges he faced in exchange for evidence and testimony against Panella.
Josh Bennett held out for full immunity, and, after a lot of legal ping-ponging, the federal prosecutor agreed to his terms. That didn’t make Joe happy, but Panella was the much bigger fish. It was alleged that he had fingers in a lot of dirty pies, but with the information Bennett provided, Joe’s division was the first to build a rock-solid case against him. À la Al Capone’s conviction for tax evasion, they could put an end to Panella’s unsavory criminal career and various illegal hobbies.
But apparently Panella hadn’t been as oblivious to Bennett’s betrayal as he’d pretended. Behind firewalls that Josh Bennett had helped him design, he’d managed to move bundles of money without even his genius partner in crime being aware of it.
By the time Bennett discovered that accounts were being methodically emptied, it was too late. Joe and Hick carried a federal warrant for Panella’s arrest to his mansion on St. Charles Avenue only to find the place in disarray. Panella had cleared out in a hurry.
Upon hearing that Panella was at large, Josh Bennett lapsed into a suicidal depression. “I had just as well slit my own throat,” he said when Joe broke the bad news.
The hell of it was, his doom-and-gloom prediction was well-founded. Rumors of Panella’s violent temper and vengeful bent had circulated throughout the law enforcement community. No direct connection was ever drawn between him and Mickey Bolden, but Joe figured Panella was behind several missing persons cases and grisly homicides for which the hit man was suspected but never indicted. Authorities could never make an allegation stick.
The threat Panella posed to Josh Bennett, Backstabber, was real enough. The same day Panella went missing, the Bureau wasted no time hustling their informant out of Dodge. By nightfall Bennett had been relocated to a safe house in Tennessee and placed under tight guard.
Obviously not tight enough.
Joe said, “For the six months and eight days he’s been up there, marshals have described him as sulky and morose, and scared of his own shadow, convinced that Panella would track him down and have him killed.”
“I thought Panella had fled the country with the cash.”
“That’s the consensus. But even if it’s true, he’s got a long reach, and Josh Bennett knows that better than anyone. He’s the accountant who paid Mickey Bolden for services rendered. Which leads one to wonder why he would pop out from cover and put his life at risk.”
“Panic?”
“Possibly. According to the men guarding him, he’s been growing squirrelier by the day. Went mental when they let in a guy to work on the house’s AC. Josh was convinced he was an assassin sent by Panella.”
“Has he had a psychological evaluation?”
“Several. IQ off the charts. But paranoid as hell and—”
“—squirrelly.”
“Yeah. For someone so smart, he’s done something really stupid. By taking off like this, he’s cooked his own goose. Certainly with us. But also with Panella. Soon as he got wind of Bennett’s escape, Panella wasted no time hiring hit men to go after Bennett’s sister.”
“Why her?”
“To send Josh a message. Run, you traitorous son of a bitch. I’ll kill your sister instead.”
Marsha mulled that over. “I know you and Hick questioned her. Did you ever suspect her of being involved in their scam?”
“Not really. But…” He raised a shoulder. “Females make good crooks.”
“We’re wily, Wiley.”
