“Chavez. You do like to walk on the wild side.”
“Not by choice.”
“If it’s not your choice then it must be Cesar’s.” There was a brief silence. “You should never have married him.”
For a split second the knowledge of what could have been, and almost had been, hung between them, and with it an unexpected cocktail of emotions she thought she had dealt with years ago. Her options had been cut by Xavier’s choices. He had chosen his path; she had chosen hers. As it turned out, they had both ended up in exactly the same place: on the wrong side of the law. “Will you help me?” Instinctively, she used the personal plea, not one that included Cesar.
There was a pause. She could hear the faint rhythm of his breathing and somewhere farther away the cry of gulls, which meant he lived close to the sea. That fitted with what she remembered about him. Xavier had come from a well-heeled family. His father had been a banker. He had always liked the good things in life, particularly fine art and yachts.
“I’ll think it over. If I decide to take the job, I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait. I need to—” The phone clicked in her ear, followed by the sharp sound of the dial tone.
Hand shaking, Esther put the receiver back in its cradle. She had no idea where Xavier had been calling from. He could be anywhere in the Mediterranean, or even South America. He could be sitting in the Florida Keys or out in San Francisco Bay.
He would be in touch with her.
Her heart was pounding again, her stomach tight. She had to calm down. If Xavier didn’t want the job, he would have said so. The fact that he had contacted her at all and was now taking the time to think over her proposition meant he was considering helping her.
Despite needing his help, hooking up with Xavier in any capacity carried almost as much risk as dealing with Lopez. She had worked with him, dated him, then investigated him. She assumed that he had been attracted to her all those years ago. She also had to consider that he had known all along what her bank had employed her to do and that his interest had been a way of getting an inside track on any investigation. By the time she had reported the anomalies it had been too late, the damage had been done. Still, she couldn’t help thinking that if Xavier had a hankering for revenge, now would be the perfect time to exact it.
An hour later the phone rang again.
“I’ll take the job, but I’m going to need help from you. RCS isn’t top-of-the-line, but they do have dual controls, which means I’m going to have to bring someone else on board.”
Esther’s stomach sank. Most banks operated on a dual-controls system, where one person instigated the transaction, and another authorized and confirmed it. There was also the problem of transferring the funds out of one bank and into another. That transaction would have to go through a clearing bank, which would require more signatures. “Can you do it?”
“At a cost.”
Esther went still inside. He couldn’t have any idea of the enormity of the sum Lopez had in the bank. Then again, if he already had a contact in RCS, maybe he did. The thought was sobering. Despite the fact that Xavier was a thief, she hadn’t expected his motivation to be greed. “What kind of guarantee do I have that you won’t steal it all?”
“You don’t have any.”
Her ace in the hole was that she didn’t care if he did take the money. Esther had no interest in it other than removing it from Lopez in order to break his hold over Cesar and shatter his power base. Once she and Rina were safely in hiding, she intended handing the money over to the authorities.
“Relax,” he said smoothly. “It’s information I want, not the money.”
She frowned. “About Lopez?”
“And some of the interesting people he and his father do business with.”
Her fingers tightened on the receiver. “Whatever you’re up to, it can’t impact on this. I have a daughter to protect.”
“Don’t worry, my interest in Lopez is a separate issue. We steal the money, you and your daughter get to safety. Then I get what I want.”
The flatness of the statement sent a small shiver down her spine. He made it sound cut and dried, as if the theft itself was just a detail, when the mere thought of what they had to do made her break out in a cold sweat.
“If we’re going to succeed, I’m going to need you to use that remarkable talent of yours.”
Xavier required information. However, obtaining computer passwords and access codes to Lopez’s accounts was as likely to land her in jail as stealing the money.
Redan Capey Securities wasn’t a bank she had ever worked for, but she knew of it. RCS traded in what she liked to call “the banking twilight zone.” Their rates were cutthroat and they weren’t too choosy about their clientele. Based in the Cayman Islands, they ignored the regulatory procedures in place in Europe and the United States and made their own rules, practicing a policy of nondisclosure, which made them a big favorite with clients who had something to hide.
When she checked with a contact in the business, she discovered that over the last decade RCS had expanded, taking on a more respectable facade. They had branches in London, New York, Florida and, surprise, surprise, San Francisco. Although, the fact that RCS had a branch in San Francisco shouldn’t have been unexpected. It made sense that Lopez would choose a bank—and a banker—that was physically within reach.
The increasing respectability of RCS created difficulties, because that meant stiffer controls, but there was one ray of hope. An ex-colleague worked there. As advantages went, it wasn’t much, because Esther had never been particularly friendly with Dana Jones, but it was going to have to be enough.
The next morning, she dropped Rina off at school, drove home and dressed with care, applying makeup to minimize the split in her lip. Half an hour later, she parked her car just off California Street in the financial district and walked the block to the RCS building.
The bank itself was surprisingly spacious, with a large reception area for clients. The receptionist rang through to Dana’s office, then indicated that Esther take a seat.
What she had to do made her mouth go dry. If RCS practiced conventional banking routines, the passwords and access codes would be changed regularly, perhaps even daily. As efficient as Dana had been when they had worked together in Bern, she had never been able to keep track of the numbers. It was an illegal practice, but Dana used to write the codes down on the back of a business card and slip the card under her keyboard for easy reference.
Her plan was almost ridiculously simple—get into Dana’s office and get a look at the codes—but the number of things that could go wrong were legion. First off, Dana might direct her to an anonymous interview room instead of her office. Secondly, even if she got into Dana’s office, it had been twelve years since they had worked at Bessel Holt. It was a long shot by anyone’s standards that Dana still carried out the same bad practice and hid the access codes beneath her keyboard.
The gleam of a coffee machine in the corner of the reception area released some of her tension. There was a coffee machine. If there hadn’t been coffee, she would have faked a dizzy spell and requested water.
Making a beeline for the machine, Esther half filled a foam cup, not bothering with either sugar or milk, and strolled to the nearest couch.
A woman exited an office, pausing to engage the security lock before she continued on to reception. Esther recognized her almost immediately. Dana was a small, elegant blonde, forty if she was a day, but she looked closer to thirty. When she’d worked with Esther, she had been an established banker, with a solid,