jg.thefirm-第46部分

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　　〃Yes；　every　partner　knows　and　plays　by　the　rules。　We　suspect　that　most　of　the　associates　know；　but　it's　hard　to　tell。　There's　so　much　we　don't　know；　Mitch。　I　can't　explain　how　　operates　and　who's　in　on　it。　But　we　strongly　suspect　a　lot　of　criminal　activity　down　there。〃
　　〃Such　as？〃
　　〃Tax　fraud。　They　do　all　the　tax　work　for　the　Morolto　bunch。　They　file　nice；　neat；　proper…looking　tax　returns　each　year　and　report　a　fraction　of　the　ine。　They　launder　money　like　crazy。　They　set　up　legitimate　businesses　with　dirty　money。　That　bank　in　St。　Louis；　big　client；　what　is　it？〃
　　〃mercial　Guaranty。〃
　　〃Right；　that's　it。　Mafia…owned。　Firm　does　all　its　legal　work。　Morolto　takes　in　an　estimated　three　hundred　million　a　year　from　gambling；　dope；　numbers^　everything。　All　cash；　right？　Most　of　it　goes　to　those　banks　in　the　Caymans。　How　does　it　move　from　Chicago　to　the　islands？　Any　idea？　The　plane；　we　suspect。　That　gold…plated　Lear　you　flew　up　here　on　runs　about　once　a　week　to　Georgetown。〃
　　Mitch　sat　straight　and　watched　Tarrance；　who　was　out　of　hearing　range　and　standing　now　on　the　footbridge。　〃So　why　don't　you　get　your　indictments　and　bust　it　all　up？〃
　　〃We　can't。　We　will；　I　assure　you。　I've　assigned　five　agents　to　the　project　in　Memphis　and　three　here　in　Washington。　I'll　get　them；　Mitch；　I　promise　you。　But　we　must　have　someone　from　the　inside。　They　are　very　smart。　They　have　plenty　of　money。　They're　extremely　careful；　and　they　don't　make　mistakes。　I　am　convinced　that　we　must　have　help　from　you　or　another　member　of　。　We　need　copies　of　files；　copies　of　bank　records；　copies　of　a　million　documents　that　can　only　e　from　within。　It's　impossible　otherwise。〃
　　〃And　I　have　been　chosen。〃
　　〃And　you　have　been　chosen。　If　you　decline；　then　you　can　go　on　your　way　and　make　plenty　of　money　and　in　general　be　a　successful　lawyer。　But　we　will　keep　trying。　We'll　wait　for　the　next　new　associate　and　try　to　pick　him　off。　And　if　that　doesn't　work；　we'll　move　in　on　one　of　the　older　associates。　One　with　courage　and　morals　and　guts　to　do　what's　right。　We'll　find　our　man　one　day；　Mitch；　and　when　that　happens　we'll　indict　you　along　with　all　the　rest　and　ship　your　rich　and　successful　ass　off　to　prison。　It　will　happen；　son；　believe　me。〃
　　At　that　moment；　at　that　place　and　time；　Mitch　believed　him。　〃Mr。　Voyles；　I'm　cold。　Could　we　walk　around？〃
　　〃Sure；　Mitch。〃
　　They　walked　slowly　to　the　sidewalk　and　headed　in　the　direction　of　the　Vietnam　Memorial。　Mitch　glanced　over　his　shoulder。　Tarrance　and　the　other　agent　were　following　at　a　distance。　Another　agent　in　dark　brown　sat　suspiciously　on　a　park　bench　up　the　sidewalk。
　　〃Who　was　Anthony　Bendini？〃　Mitch　asked。
　　〃He　married　a　Morolto　in　1930。　The　old　man's　son…in…law。　They　had　an　operation　in　Philadelphia　back　then；　and　he　was　stationed　there。　Then；　in　the　forties；　for　some　reason；　he　was　sent　to　Memphis　to　set　up　shop。　He　was　a　very　good　lawyer；　though；　from　what　we　know。〃
　　A　thousand　questions　flooded　his　brain　and　fought　to　be　asked。　He　tried　to　appear　calm；　under　control；　skeptical。
　　〃What　about　Oliver　Lambert？〃
　　〃A　prince　of　a　guy。　The　perfect　senior　partner；　who　just　happened　to　know　all　about　Hodge　and　Kozinski　and　the　plans　to　eliminate　them。　The　next　time　you　see　Mr。　Lambert　around　the　office；　try　to　remember　that　he　is　a　cold…blooded　murderer。　Of　course；　he　has　no　choice。　If　he　didn't　cooperate；　they'd　find　him　floating　somewhere。　They're　all　like　that；　Mitch。　They　started　off　just　like　you。　Young；　bright；　ambitious；　then　suddenly　one　day　they　were　in　over　their　heads　with　no　place　to　go。　So　they　play　along；　work　hard；　do　a　helluva　job　putting　up　a　good　front　and　looking　like　a　real　respectable　little　law　firm。　Each　year　or　so　they　recruit　a　bright　young　law　student　from　a　poor　background；　no　family　money；　with　a　wife　who　wants　babies；　and　they　throw　money　at　him　and　sign　him　up。〃
　　Mitch　thought　of　the　money；　the　excessive　salary　from　a　small　firm　in　Memphis；　and　the　car　and　low…interest　mortgage。　He　was　headed　for　Wall　Street　and　had　been　sidetracked　by　the　money。　Only　the　money。
　　〃What　about　Nathan　Locke？〃
　　The　Director　smiled。　〃Locke　is　another　story。　He　grew　up　a　poor　kid　in　Chicago　and　was　running　errands　for　old　man　Morolto　by　the　time　he　was　ten。　He's　been　a　hood　all　his　life。　Scratched　his　way　through　law　school；　and　the　old　man　sent　him　South　to　work　with　Anthony　Bendini　in　the　white…collar…crime　division　of　the　family。　He　was　always　a　favorite　of　the　old　man。〃
　　〃When　did　Morolto　die？〃
　　〃Eleven　years　ago　at　the　age　of　eighty…eight。　He　has　two　slimy　sons；　Mickey　the　Mouth　and　Joey　the　Priest。　Mickey　lives　in　Las　Vegas　and　has　a　limited　role　in　the　family　business。　Joey　is　the　boss。〃
　　The　sidewalk　reached　an　intersection　with　another　one。　In　the　distance　to　the　left；　the　Washington　Monument　reached　upward　in　the　bitter　wind。　To　the　right；　the　walkway　led　to　the　Wall。　A　handful　of　people　were　now　staring　at　it；　searching　for　the　names　of　sons　and　husbands　and　friends。　Mitch　headed　for　the　Wall。　They　walked　slowly。
　　Mitch　spoke　softly。　〃I　don't　understand　how　　can　do　so　much　illegal　work　and　keep　it　quiet。　That　place　is　full　of　secretaries　and　clerks　and　paralegals。〃
　　〃Good　point；　and　one　I　cannot　fully　answer。　We　think　it　operates　as　two　firms。　One　is　legitimate；　with　the　new　associates；　most　of　the　secretaries　and　support　people。　Then；　the　senior　associates　and　partners　do　the　dirty　work。　Hodge　and　Kozinski　were　about　to　give　us　plenty　of　information；　but　they　never　made　it。　Hodge　told　Tarrance　once　that　there　was　a　group　of　paralegals　in　the　basement　he　knew　little　about。　They　worked　directly　for　Locke　and　Milligan　and　McKnight　and　a　few　other　partners；　and　no　one　was　really　sure　what　they　did。　Secretaries　know　everything；　and　we　think　that　some　of　them　are　probably　in　on　it。　If　so；　I'm　sure　they're　well　paid　and　too　scared　to　talk。　Think　about　it；　Mitch。　If　you　work　there　making　great　money　with　great　benefits；　and　you　know　that　if　you　ask　too　many　questions　or　start　talking　you　wind　up　in　the　river；　what　do　you　do？　You　keep　your　mouth　shut　and　take　the　money。〃
　　They　stopped　at　the　beginning　of　the　Wall；　at　a　point　where　the　black　granite　began　at　ground　level　and　started　its　run　of　246　feet　until　it　angled　into　the　second　row　of　identical　panels。　Sixty　feet　away；　an　elderly　couple　stared　at　the　wall　and　cried　softly。　They　huddled　together；　for　warmth　and　strength。　The　mother　bent　down　and　laid　a　framed　black…and…white　photo　at　the　base　of　the　Wall。　The　father　laid　a　shoebox　full　of　high　school　memorabilia　next　to　the　photo。　Football　programs；　class　pictures；　love　letters；　key　rings　and　a　gold　chain。　They　cried　louder。
　　Mitch　turned　his　back　to　the　Wall　and　looked　at　the　Washington　Monument。　The　Director　watched　his　eyes。
　　〃So　what　am　I　supposed　to　do？〃　Mitch　asked。
　　〃First　of　all；　keep　your　mouth　shut。　If　you　start　asking　questions；　your　life　could　be　in　danger。　Your　wife's　also。　Don't　have　any　kids　in　the　near　future。　They're　easy　targets。　It's　best　to　play　dumb；　as　if　everything　is　wonderful　and　you　still　plan　to　be　the　world's　greatest　lawyer。　Second；　you　must　make　a　decision。　Not　now；　but　soon。　You　must　decide　if　you　will　cooperate　or　not。　If　you　choose　to　help　us；　we　will　of　course　make　it　worth　your　while。　If　you　choose　not　to；　then　we　will　continue　to　watch　　until　we　decide　to　approach　another　associate。　As　I　said；　one　of　these　days　we'll　find　someone　with　guts　and　nail　those　bastards。　And　the　Morolto　crime　family　as　we　know　it　will　cease　to　exist。　We'll　protect　you；　Mitch；　and　you'll　never　have　to　work　again　in　your　life。〃
　　〃What　life？　I'll　live　in　fear　forever；　if　I　live。　I've　heard　stories　of　witnesses　the　FBI　has　supposedly　hidden。　Ten　years　later；　the　car　explodes　as　they　back　out　the　driveway　to　go　to　work。　The　body　is　scattered　over　three　blocks。　The　Mob　never　forgets；　Director。　You　know　that。〃
　　〃They　never　forget；　Mitch。　But　I　promise　you；　you　and　your　wife　will　be　protected。〃
　　The　Director　looked　at　his　watch。　〃You'd　better　get　back　or　they'll　be　suspicious。　Tarrance　will　be　in　touch。　Trust　him；　Mitch。　He's　trying　to　save　your　life。　He　has　full　authority　to　act　on　my　behalf。　If　he　tells　you　so