The Tangled Webb Read Online Free

multiplied.
    “Done.”
    He handed her a piece of paper with the license number on the SUV.
    “DMV database. Did you say D.C. plates?”
    “Right.”
    He watched her fingers fly across the keyboard. A few minutes later, the movement stopped. She pivoted the laptop on the table so James could see the screen.
    “The SUV is registered to a corporation in the state of Delaware.” She tapped a few more keys. “The Delaware entity is controlled by a limited liability company in the Cayman Islands, which is owned by a parent corporation in Zurich.”
    James paused.
    “Obviously, these are not amateurs. Somebody’s gone to a lot of trouble to cover their tracks. We need to find out where the money came from to buy that SUV.”
    “It’ll take time.”
    “Something we don’t have,” he pointed out. “How long?”
    “Hard to say. I’ll have to write a special software program.”
    James stepped to a table and put on a pot of coffee.
    Two hours passed and a discouraging mood was setting in. James had spread out on the sofa, lost in his thoughts.
    Another hour passed.
    Kate’s fingers were moving across the keyboard, and then they slowed, and stopped. She stared at her laptop screen.
    “Wow.”
    James scrambled to his feet. “What is it?”
    “There’s a pattern here. It’s unmistakable. The funds that were used to purchase the SUV flowed into, then out of, a bank account controlled by a lawyer. Big firm.”
    “Where?”
    “New York City . . . Park Avenue.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “Alec Specter. Partner at Wolfe & Hunt. Whatever’s going on, this guy is knee-deep in it.”
    “Any backstory?”
    “The firm’s a deathtrap.” She shook her head. “It reads like a catalogue of financial muggings. Intimidation tactics and money laundering, mostly.”
    “Are you sure this is the guy?”
    “Positive.”
    James grinned.
    “Where does this guy live?”
    “Um . . . Connecticut. Greenwich, actually.”
    He leaned across the desk and kissed her.
    “Next stop, Greenwich.”

CHAPTER 7
    G reenwich, Connecticut was a community where old money lives alongside the nouveau riche in some very expensive real estate. The town’s ideal location—forty-five minutes from New York City—attracts bankers, hedge fund managers and a collection of players in the world of big capital. The most affluent residents living on large estates along Long Island Sound and in the hills north of town spend millions, for seclusion and privacy.
    Many seek it.
    Some need it.
    Among the latter group was Alec Specter, the ruthless powerbroker at Wolfe & Hunt. Specter lived with his wife and young son on a two-acre estate in the hills above town. The 8,000 square-foot house was situated on a quiet lane named Hidden Creek Road. The huge price tag for the project was necessary to satisfy the appetites of a man who played God with other people’s lives.
    He had harnessed the legal system and swung it around like a blunt instrument, destroying lives. And he did the bidding for many of the nation’s most powerful criminals, and some “respectable” clients as well.
    And who could do anything about it?
    Kate and James Webb boarded an Amtrak train bound for New York City, carrying duffel bags stuffed with cash in small denominations and an assortment of gear. Disembarking at Penn Station, they caught a taxi north of the city to within a half-mile of a house in Bronxville. Here, James bought a non-descript Chevy sedan advertised online.
    Kate waited as he slipped on a disguise; a neatly shaven beard, tinted glasses and a baseball cap. He walked to the house where the seller eyed a wad of cash, relieved James did not quibble about the price.
    Along Interstate 95, they stopped and purchased a road bike at a bicycle shop. Back on the freeway, a few miles ahead, a sign near an exit ramp displayed the name of a town.
    OLD GREENWICH
    Densely wooded, the enclave afforded privacy; narrow alleyways separated the backyards of traditionally styled homes.