"Thank you."

"I didn't get to tell you earlier," Fred said, "but the offices are magnificent, a credit to the community."

"Thank you, Fred." They shook hands and left.

Betty came in as soon as they were gone. "Russell Norris is on the phone."

Eagle picked it up and pressed the button. "Russell?"

"Ed, I'm afraid we're too late. If we'd known yesterday, I might have been able to intercept the funds."

"Oh."

"She bounced the money to Mexico City, just like her sister did a couple of years ago. It went to the Banco Internacional this morning; I might be able to do something there, depending on how fast she moves. It's Friday; I could be there when the bank opens on Monday morning."

"Barbara flew to Mexico City this morning, so she got there before the banks closed. She might have had time to move the money again."

"Does she know the details of the Willett business, what her sister did?"

"A rough outline. She knows we stopped the funds in the Caymans before they could go to Mexico. She might think they're safe in Mexico and not move fast."

"Then it's worth the trip," Norris said. "You want me to go?"

"Yes, please. Let me know something on Monday."

"I'm on it," Norris said, then hung up.

Eagle buzzed Betty. "Get me Cupie Dalton." Cupie was an ex-LAPD detective, now a P.I. who gained his nickname on the force because of his resemblance to the Cupie Doll: plump and pink.

"Hey, Ed, what's up?"

"I'll make it quick, Cupie. My wife ran off with a lot of my money; she landed in Mexico City this morning. She sent the money to the Banco Internacional there, so she may still be in town. I want you to find her. How's your Spanish?"

"My mother was half Mexican," Cupie said. "I get along. What do you want me to do when I find her?"

Eagle liked it that Cupie said "when," not "if."

"Follow her wherever she goes, and call me. Does your cell phone work down there?"

"Yep. I'll need five grand up front; you got the account number?"

"I do; it'll be there in an hour."

"Then I'll be in Mexico City by bedtime."

"Call me." Eagle hung up and buzzed Betty. "Wire Cupie Dalton five thousand."

"Have we got five thousand?"

Eagle winced. "Fred's putting half a million in the account this afternoon; somebody'll be here with a note soon."

"There's a kid with an envelope in reception now. Hang on."

A moment later, Betty came in with the note; Eagle signed it, wincing again at the interest rate, and she stuffed it back in the envelope and returned it to the messenger.

There was a rap on the office door. "Come in!" Eagle yelled.

Wolf Willett opened the door and came in. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier," Wolf said. "I was held up in a meeting at Centurion Studios." He looked around. "The place is gorgeous."

"Thanks, Wolf. Sit down."

"You look beat. Big crowd?"

"Big crowd, but that's not why I'm beat."

"What's going on?"

"Your former sister-in-law left town this morning after wiring a little more than a million dollars of my money to an offshore bank. She's in Mexico City, I think."

"Oh, my God, Ed."

"Yeah."

"The good news is, I stopped another four million from being wired from my brokerage account before she got her hands on it."

"It's like Julia all over again, isn't it?"

"It is."

"I feel responsible; you'd never even have met Barbara if…"

"None of that, pal; we're both victims, that's all."

"Ed, I turned in the negative of my new movie this morning and got a big check. If you're short…"

"The bank will come through with some short-term money, I think. But thanks."

"If they don't, or if the terms are unacceptable, I'm good for a million or two."

Eagle grinned. "With a friend like you, who needs friends?"

"I mean it. I can actually write you a check on my brokerage account right now." Wolf patted his jacket pocket.

"Thanks anyway, but I'm okay. Can I buy you dinner tonight?"

"No, but I'll buy you dinner. Are Jane and Sara here?"

"No, Jane had some work to do this weekend. They're staying in L.A."

"It's just you and me, then."

"You and me."

"Santa Cafe at eight?"

"Sure, I'll book. I've got one more call to make, now; have a look around, and pardon all the dirty glasses."

"See you later." Wolf left, closing the door behind him.

Eagle picked up the phone and called the FBI.

Four

THE SPECIAL AGENT IN CHARGE OF THE SANTA FE FIELD office of the FBI was somebody Eagle had dealt with fairly often and knew well. Carlos Rodriguez was a native Santa Fean who'd been sent to his hometown office because he was good and because he would look good in the community.

"What can I do for you, Ed?" Rodriguez asked.

Eagle explained what had happened.

Rodriguez emitted a long sigh. "Well, Ed, I'm sure you already knew this, and it's just as bad as you thought. The woman is your legal wife, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"And she was an authorized signator on both accounts?"

"Yes."

"Then what you've got here is a civil matter."

"You mean she hasn't committed a crime?"

"Not unless she failed to file the federal form for moving more than ten thousand dollars, but the bank probably did that automatically. Anyway, I don't know of anybody ever being arrested for failing to file. That charge is usually lumped in with others in these cases. So you'll have to sue her to get your money back, like in divorce court. You are divorcing her, aren't you?"

That brought Eagle up short; he hadn't gotten that far, yet. "I expect so." That sounded funny to his own ears. Twelve hours before, he had been in love with the woman.

"Then bring it up when the property settlement is discussed. Take it out of her share."

"Thanks, Carlos," Eagle said, then hung up.

There was a knock on his door, and Eagle looked up to find Judge Eamon O'Hara standing there, accompanied by two lawyers he knew. He had thought all his guests had left. "Come in, judge," he said. "Take a chair. Can I get you a drink?"

The judge and the two lawyers went to his sofa and sat down. "Thanks, Ed, we've already had one. You know Dan and Enrico, don't you?"

"Of course. Glad to see you, fellows." He pulled up a chair. "What's up?"

"You know James Reardon, don't you?"

"Sure." Reardon was a local lawyer.

"Well, Jimmy just blew his brains out in the courthouse men's room, about four hours ago."

"I hadn't heard," Eagle said. "Has he got a family?"

"Wife and a child. He shot them at home this morning, before he came to the courthouse."

"The man must have been stark raving."

"If so, nobody noticed, certainly not me," the judge said. "Now Jimmy solved his own problem by eating his gun, but he didn't solve mine."

"And what's your problem, judge?"

"Jimmy had three cases scheduled for trial in my court over the next six weeks: one fellow with half a dozen charges of burglary against him, another for repeated domestic abuse, and a triple murder. All were court-assigned. My guess is they'll all eventually plead out, but we haven't gotten around to that yet, and the public defender's office is overwhelmed at the moment, so I'm going to appoint you three hombres to the cases, and I'm not in the mood to take no for an answer. Everybody got that?"

Nobody said anything. This was an annoyance that came up from time to time, and since all three lawyers regularly tried cases in O'Hara's court, they weren't inclined to annoy him by begging off.

The judge reached into his pocket and came up with three toothpicks. He broke one in half, an end off another and left the third whole. Behind his back he rearranged them, then held them up so the ends were visible. "Pick a straw, each of you."