To Save a Son by Brian Freemantle

doing exactly what they wanted, creating the shield behind which they could hide. “What about the gambling?” he said in abrupt recollection.
    â€œThat was the eventual aim,” disclosed Nicky.
    â€œI don’t understand.”
    â€œThe FBI came here yesterday. Two guys. I don’t know what they’ve found but they said they’ve been investigating for months. They know about the credit linkup between Las Vegas and Nassau. Said it was the classic way these guys get money out. All they do is make the deposit in Las Vegas and draw it from us, in the Bahamas. Gamble a little, to make it appear genuine, cash up the rest, and put it into an offshore account.”
    The feeling of sickness came to Franks again, at a further realization. The discussion about installing the casino had occurred when Nicky was away on his honeymoon. Informal, they’d said. No reason to keep any notes. So any investigation would show the initiative to the Bahamas government to be his, with the formal company discussion only occurring afterward. Franks’ mind stayed on records. He said, “What documentation is there that I haven’t seen? Stuff beween you and Pascara? With any of them?”
    Nicky licked his lips, not moving.
    â€œGive it to me!” yelled Franks.
    Hesitantly the lawyer took a slim folder from a desk drawer, sliding it across the table toward the other man. “I wasn’t keeping it from you,” he said.
    â€œLiar.” said Franks. “You have kept it from me. What’s here?”
    â€œDukes’ bank transfer, for the original company creation. Came from an offshore account in the Netherlands Antilles. Instructions from Pascara, for dividend payments. That’s offshore, too. An account in the Bahamas …”
    â€œInto which goes the casino money?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Nicky. “There’s also my own notes, about the formation. What I was asked to do. Some stuff about Pascara’s other investments, too.”
    Franks looked down at the folder and then back up to Nicky. “Didn’t the FBI ask for this?”
    â€œThey probably would have done if they’d known about it. They just wanted the company books; said if I refused they’d get them by subpoena.”
    Franks sat back in his chair, trying to analyze everything. It was a mess. An embarrassing, humiliating mess that was going to tarnish his reputation badly and probably destroy Nicky’s. Which the bloody man deserved anyway; he felt no sympathy for him. Thank God he’d kept the companies separate from everything in Europe.
    â€œHow were things left with the investigators?”
    â€œThey told me not to get in touch with Pascara, Dukes, or Flamini. Said they’d want to talk to you and wanted to know when you’d next be in America.”
    â€œWe’ll cooperate,” decided Franks. He lifted the unopened folder. “Make this available and anything else they might want. It’ll wreck the company, of course. We’ll get some sort of price for the hotels but we won’t cover ourselves. We’ll need lawyers, naturally. The best. You must be able to get the names. Do that this afternoon.”
    â€œI’m not sure,” said Nicky.
    â€œNot sure about what?”
    â€œCooperating.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about! We’ve been suckered—I have, at least. I don’t like it and I like even less the thought of it becoming public knowledge. But it’s going to become public knowledge. There’s nothing we can do about it. The important thing now is to salvage what little we can.”
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with the public affairs of the company,” said Nicky. “Nor the hotel company or the casino holding. We took an investment in good faith and operated strictly according to the law.”
    â€œYou know—and now I know—that it was crooked money! We’ve been set up,