Nothing but Trouble_ A Kevin Kerney Novel - Michael Mcgarrity [91]
“I have nothing more to say.”
“What do you think could happen to a person who did something like this?”
Paquette put her hands on the table and clasped them tightly together.
“People make mistakes,” Sara continued as she returned to her chair. “I understand that. Now is your chance to set things right. I’ll listen to anything you want to say.”
“Where would that get me?” Paquette asked.
“It could be very advantageous to you. Once we have George in custody, we’ll learn the truth about your involvement and any chance you have to extract yourself from this situation will be gone.”
Paquette picked some imaginary lint from her pleated silk Louis Vuitton blouse and shook her head. “I feel so stupid.”
“Don’t, Joséphine.” Sara leaned forward and smiled sympathetically. Although Paquette probably didn’t know it, she’d just admitted guilt. “George Spalding has spent a lifetime using people. He’s a master at it. You are simply one of his victims.”
Paquette smiled weakly in return.
“Why don’t you tell me everything,” Sara said.
“If I do, will I be arrested?”
“Not if you give a full and truthful account,” Sara replied, sidestepping the fact that the half a million euros Paquette expected to receive at the end of the year had just evaporated.
Paquette took a deep breath and started talking. When she finished, Sara had all the particulars of the scheme, but most important she now knew that Spalding would be at the villa tomorrow afternoon to have one final look at his new home before starting his qualifying cruise for his ocean yachtmaster certificate.
She cautioned Paquette to cooperate fully with the Garda in all possible ways, made her surrender her passport, and turned her over to the detective waiting outside the door.
Within a minute Fitzmaurice stepped into the room with a big smile spread across his face. “Well done,” he said. “You got her to lie to you right from the outset. It’s all been recorded on digital video and sent to the server. I made a diskette copy.”
He tucked it into the chest pocket of his suit coat. “A detective will take her written statement. We’ll keep a close watch on her from now until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Are you smiling because you think I should have questioned her sooner rather than later?” Sara asked.
Fitzmaurice shook his head. “Not at all. She never would have broken unless you had the facts at your disposal.”
“Then why the big grin?” Sara asked.
Fitzmaurice laughed. “Because I had no idea you were the product of an Irish diplomat’s marriage to a Norwegian shipping heiress, and a Garda detective authorized to grant foreign citizens immunity from prosecution.”
Sara grinned and handed Fitzmaurice the passport. “I said nothing about a shipping heiress. You’re a terrible embellisher, Mr. Fitzmaurice. She almost had me there. Did you really want to arrest her?”
“No, but now I’m more convinced than ever that you’re a far cry from an ordinary lieutenant colonel.”
“You just won’t quit, will you?”
Fitzmaurice shook his head. “Is it time for us to start uncovering and freezing Mr. Spalding’s assets?”
“Is that possible?” Sara asked.
“Indeed so,” Fitzmaurice replied. “His bank in Galway serves only private clients, and it is justifiably concerned that it not be a party to any illicit dealing. The rumours of that may not be good for business, and a scandal in the courts might frighten off prospective clients. I’ve asked for a writ from the court under the Proceeds of Crime Act. It should be signed shortly and then we can be on our way to Galway. We’ll travel by helicopter.”
On the flight to Galway, Fitzmaurice gave Sara a short history of the Garda Criminal Assets Bureau. The bureau had been established in 1996, after drug dealers murdered Veronica Guerin, an investigative reporter who’d exposed the extent of drug trafficking in Dublin and the wealth of the drug lords who controlled it. The public outcry that resulted from her death