Echoes of a Distant Summer (6 page)

“I do construction. My work is legal,” Witherspoon tried to explain. “I don’t want to know what you’re doing. I don’t care what my father used to do with you. He’s been dead nearly a year. I just want to continue to run my construction company and I want you to launder your money somewhere else.”

DiMarco hit the table with his fist. “My family has shed blood for the money this construction company was built with. There’s no way you’re going to walk away with ownership of this company. Not today, not ever!”

Witherspoon sat down and stared at the table.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Braxton reminded his visitors, “we’re all on the same team. Let’s keep up a professional front, shall we? Will you open the folders in front of you? Then we can review the facts available to us.” He picked up the top sheet from the small stack within the folder. “This is a brief history of where we stand, starting in 1953 when King Tremain intercepted some money from one of our transactions. The following year he intercepted an even greater amount of money—”

“And killed five members of my family!” DiMarco interjected angrily.

“Yes, he killed a great many other people as well,” Braxton agreed.

“He ain’t the only one who’s got a blood debt,” Tree said, indicating DiMarco with a quick nod of his head. “I lost two brothers and his son gave me this.” Tree pointed to the scar on his face. “And just last week, I lost a nephew! I got plenty to settle with King Tremain.”

“The best way to settle with him,” Braxton continued, trying to get the conversation back on track, “is to take everything he’s worked so hard to build—to dismember his empire. So let’s get on with the historical review. The money he took was never found. All the information that we’ve uncovered over the years seems to indicate that he invested the money in a land management corporation. We have narrowed it down to four different firms which, in the past, have done a lot of business in the Western Addition. Two of them have out-of-state papers. The other two were incorporated in California. One of the local firms owns the majority of the property management business that his wife still runs. One of the out-of-state firms actually owns the corporation that owns the T and W Construction company. Unfortunately, the incorporation
papers for that particular firm are in Switzerland. This is the one I think is most likely to be the corporation that Tremain set up.”

DiMarco spoke, “You’ve been saying this for years and we still don’t have any real proof that’s what he did with the money. Even Delbert’s father didn’t know what he did with the money and he was part owner in the construction company years before King ever hit a money shipment. Plus, it doesn’t make sense. I don’t see how an uneducated black could set up a complex system of corporations like this.” DiMarco questioned, “And even if he did set it up, what good is it to us?”

“Yeah, a corporation like this? That ain’t like King Tremain.” Tree’s voiced grumbled doubtfully, “He was a loner. He never kept no paper records. It was all in his head. I’d bet he has hid that money away somewhere.”

“That’s a mistake too many people have made about Tremain,” Braxton interposed smoothly. “Just because he was uneducated does not mean that he was stupid. And believe me, if he owns any one of these corporations, we’re talking about in excess of fifty million dollars in land and assets. If we move swiftly and carefully when his papers surface, we can set ourselves up quite well. The advantages for money laundering are obvious.”

“You guys are crazy!” Witherspoon exclaimed. “You’re going to take over a legitimate business? You think you’re going to get away with that? I won’t have any part of it!”

Tree turned on Witherspoon and drew back his fist.

“That won’t be necessary, John,” Braxton said quietly. “Delbert understands that he will do whatever we deem necessary. Since his father died, he’s having trouble dealing with this aspect of the business. Isn’t that right?”

Witherspoon looked around at the faces at the table and found no sympathy. He struggled to hold his position. “Just because you’ve laundered some money through my company doesn’t give you the right to make me do anything.”

DiMarco growled at Witherspoon, “It’s not your company! Get that through your head!”

“Oh, Delbert,” Braxton said sweetly. “It will be John Tree here who will make sure you do what we want. Don’t you have a wife, a son, and two sisters?”

Tree smiled a crooked smile and put his big hand on Witherspoon’s shoulder.

Witherspoon gave a hurried glance at Tree, then looked down at his hands clasped in his lap.

DiMarco looked at Braxton and said, “You still haven’t talked about exactly how we can take control of his corporation. That’s the critical piece of information.”

Braxton put his thumbs under his suspenders and said smugly, “Well, I have it on good authority that when King was forced to go to Mexico in 1954, he had to sell everything with his name on it, otherwise it would have been seized by the police. He sold everything to a corporation that he had set up. The one failure in his plan was that no one’s name was ever put on the corporation’s founding papers because he was never able to come back to San Francisco and get the papers officially transferred to someone he trusted. Those papers are still hidden somewhere in San Francisco’s Western Addition. We find them, we take control of a cool fifty million.”

DiMarco leaned forward with interest and asked, “What’s your strategy?”

“One of his grandsons is the key. Now, we know that when Tremain went to Mexico in 1954, the only person he had regular contact with was one grandson.” Braxton looked down at his notes to refresh his memory. “Hmmm, yes, Jackson Tremain—”

“We know where he is,” Tree interrupted enthusiastically. “I got two men watching him. Why don’t we just pick him up and find out what he knows?”

“Because he doesn’t know anything, yet.” Braxton answered as he took off his glasses and cleaned them. “He stopped having anything to do with his grandfather when he was eighteen; that was in 1964. What makes this grandson key is that he is the only one in the whole family that King Tremain cared about. So, if he leaves a will, this fellow Jackson will figure pretty prominently in it.” Braxton let the information sink in while he carefully adjusted his glasses. He didn’t like wearing them but they were necessary for reading.

“How are we going to know if Tremain contacts this Jackson?” DiMarco asked.

“Well, you’ve got to think like Tremain,” Braxton said contemplatively. “He wouldn’t send a stranger, because the grandson probably wouldn’t have anything to do with someone he didn’t know.…” Braxton paused in thought then continued, “I think he’ll contact the grandson directly and they’ll meet face-to-face before he dies.”

“Then we should have this Jackson under twenty-four-hour surveillance!” DiMarco suggested. “So we can give King Tremain the send-off he deserves!”

“We’ve already taken care of that.” Braxton gestured to Tree.

“We on ’im, like white on rice,” Tree confirmed. “We got him followed wherever he goes. I got one of my best men on him. It’s Fletcher Gil—”

“John!” Braxton interrupted testily. “We agreed not to use the names of people assigned to surveillance activities.”

“What’s the big deal?” Tree complained. “It’s just us and we know everybody!”

Braxton explained, “Precautions are necessary. We may not always be in a secure room.”

DiMarco chuckled cynically, “He’s too stupid to understand that.”

Braxton caught Tree’s eye and discreetly gestured to him not to respond. “Let’s get on with our prospective assignments, shall we?” No one said anything. DiMarco was smirking and Tree was glaring at him. Witherspoon continued to sit quietly, looking down into his lap. “John, I want you to continue to keep this Jackson Tremain under surveillance. Learn everything about him. If he’s got a girlfriend, find out where she lives and works. I want his friends’ names and addresses. I want to know all his regular stops.”

“I got it!” Tree answered gruffly. “He gon’ be locked down tighter’n a drum.”

“Good. Paul, you still have people down in Mexico City?”

DiMarco nodded his head affirmatively.

“Good,” Braxton smiled. “I want you to put them on notice. If the grandson goes down there to visit him, we want him followed. Maybe he’ll lead us right to his grandfather, and then we’ll be able to resolve everything right then and there.”

DiMarco said, “I’ll have a man staked out at the Mexico City airport, once we know he’s headed down that way.”

“That’s all the news on that front. Now to our local business transactions. Delbert, are you still with us?” Braxton spoke softly. Witherspoon raised his eyes and looked at Braxton, his face wooden with resignation. “We need to ship some money through the construction company. I want you to alert the accountant. The money will come from a bank in Canada. I want half the payment to go through the same subcontractor
in Nassau that we used before, and the other half to the Bahamas account. Anybody else need a pass through?”

DiMarco nodded. “Yeah. I’m transferring money from my restaurant. I want the money sent to my Bahamas account.”

Braxton looked at Witherspoon. “Got that?”

Witherspoon stared at Braxton without a word. His face was expressionless.

Tree leaned over and smacked the back of his head with a powerful forehand swipe. “You heard the man. Answer him!”

The blow knocked Witherspoon’s hat onto the table. Witherspoon trembled as he spoke. “I got it.”

“Good,” said Braxton as he sought to bring the meeting to a close. “We should meet for a status report in one week at the Embassy Suites in Napa. Different place, same time. After that, it may be too dangerous to meet again as a group.”

Braxton stood up as a signal of dismissal, but before anyone else could move, Tree said in a malevolent voice, “You ought to send somebody who knows what they doin’ to Mexico this time.” He indicated DiMarco with a hand gesture. “These greasy motherfuckers haven’t been able to find nothin’ in twenty years. Ain’t no reason to think they gon’ change now.”

DiMarco bent over as if he were pulling up his socks when he began his snide retort. “I heard that you had more than a couple of opportunities to stand up to the man.” He kept his eyes on Tree as he spoke. “The way I heard it, you ran away faster than everybody. Too bad it wasn’t an Olympic year, you might have gotten a medal, except they don’t give ’em for yellow streaks.” DiMarco leaned back in his chair and laughed tauntingly.

Tree pushed back his chair and stood up. He leaned over the table and pointed at DiMarco, who remained seated. “I ain’t gon’ let no stubby-assed cracker talk to me that way!” He stepped behind Witherspoon’s chair as he began to make his way to DiMarco.

DiMarco displayed a 9mm pistol, which he had pulled from an ankle holster, and set it on the table. “Come on! Come on!” he taunted, daring Tree to continue.

Braxton walked over and stood between the two men. “Gentlemen, we’re here about business.” He glanced back and forth between the two like a school monitor, intervening between miscreants. “Business,” he
emphasized again. Braxton watched Tree make his way truculently back to his seat and thought,
In a very short while you will have outlived your usefulness
.

“No more meetings,” DiMarco stated coldly as he shoved the pistol in the waistband of his pants. He stood up and buttoned his jacket. He said to Braxton, “You have other ways of contacting me.”

Tree began to taunt him, “You’s a coward! And one day I’m gon’ make you eat that little gun.”

DiMarco turned toward him and said, “After this is over, I’m going to squash you like a bug!”

“You don’t scare me,” Tree answered triumphantly. “I know where your family lives. Where your little girl goes to school. What time she gets picked up by the chauffeur. I even know about your mother in New Jersey.”

“You dare to threaten my family?! You dare to threaten—” DiMarco reached under his coat for his pistol.

Once more, Braxton stepped between the men. “No fireworks in here or the whole plan is finished.”

DiMarco looked over Braxton’s shoulder at the still-seated Tree and snarled, “You’re a dead man; it’s just a question of when! But you’re a dead man!”

Tree laughed evilly. “You jes’ better watch who you threatening!” He laughed a big belly laugh. He had succeeded in upsetting DiMarco and that was enough for him.

Braxton ushered DiMarco from the room, speaking to him in hushed undertones, but to no avail. At the door DiMarco pulled his arm roughly out of Braxton’s grasp. “We’ll go forward as planned,” he said, adjusting the collar of his coat. “But if I see that fool again, I’ll kill him and everyone who’s with him!” DiMarco gave Braxton a long look then turned and walked down the hall.

Witherspoon came to the door and waited for Braxton to move so he could leave. His hat was in his hands. There was a pleading look on his long, narrow face and his mouth twitched with unspoken words. Braxton stepped out of his way and watched Witherspoon dart past him and scurry down the hall.

As Braxton reentered the sitting room, Tree was pouring himself a large brandy. Braxton sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs behind him and asked, “What is on your mind that you would want to antagonize DiMarco?”

“He ain’t nothing,” Tree responded, slopping his brandy as he dropped into a chair across from Braxton. “I liked it that you didn’t let on about the real amount of money we’s after. You think land and everything, King got more’n a hundred million?”

“Yes I do, but let me caution you. DiMarco is a dangerous man. When I asked you to get that information on his family, I never intended that he should know about it. It was for us to use in case of emergency.”

Disgustedly, Braxton rose up and went over to stand in front of the window. The fog was lifting. He could now see the sailboats moored in the water and behind them, the shadowy presence of Strawberry Point still partially obscured by fog. He took a moment to control his irritation over Tree’s stupidity. Once he gathered himself, he turned and said, “Now, we have a problem.”

“What’s that?” Tree asked.

“We knew before that DiMarco might not want to share the business with us, but now there’s no doubt. He’ll try to kill us once everything is in hand. We’ve got to be ready before that happens.” Braxton poured himself a brandy and continued. “I want you to keep tabs on his family. I think he’ll try to move them before he moves on us. That’ll be our signal.”