Katie reported into Dobell who told her, “I’m warming up to this story but only if we can get inside the financial dealings. Rich guys accepting Epstein’s hospitality has got to result in favors, political or monetary.” 
       “That’s mainly why the FBI and IRS are in on this investigation.”
       “They’ll take forever. If they ever get a court order to thrash around in Epstein’s house I’d be surprised if there was so much as a matchbook cover of evidence to be found. The banks in the Cayman Islands won’t work with the feds; the Swiss are almost as bad.”
       “Want David and me to break into Epstein’s one night” asked Katie.
       “Not a great idea. And if you’re caught I’ll say I disavow even knowing you, like in Mission Impossible.”
       “Maybe the key is to find someone here or in New York that Epstein screwed in a financial or investment deal, like that fund that went bankrupt.”  
       “That’s what I was going to suggest, though I think your chances are better back here than down there. Come back and I’ll have the staff  get you names and numbers.”
       “Sounds like a plan,” said Katie.
       She had her return open ticket and called David to tell him she were heading back to New York.
       David said, “You go. I think Rush has a few more cards to play that might follow the money. Let’s keep in touch.”
    
      Katie flew home that evening, and the next day she headed into the office, where Dobell had already alerted some of the staff as to what they were looking for. Donna Druley already had names of those who went down in flames with the Tower Financial scheme Epstein somehow escaped.
       “It’s a long list but here in New York there are maybe a dozen people affected,” she said. “I actually know one of them and remember how devastated he was when Epstein got away scot-free. I called him and he would love to speak with you. Name is Sam Unitas, lives in the Village. I think he’s out of the market and runs a Cadillac dealership on the West Side. Here’s his number."

    Katie immediately phoned Unitas, who was only to eager to meet with her. When she arrived at the dealership he was waiting for her just inside the door. He was in his forties, in good shape, with a comb-over and goatee, wearing suit pants and a pink shirt with white collar.
    "I'm a big admirer of your work," he said. "Glad you survived. So you want to talk about Epstein's Ponzi scheme and how I got taken to the cleaners."
    Katie said, "Whatever you can tell me."
    "Like I said, it was a Ponzi scheme. With all his contacts and backers he’d switch the money around to each other. In my case, and all those who got killed in the Tower scheme, one of those shells turned out to be empty.”
       “So, let me get this straight. You’re saying that Epstein was a conduit for dirty money.”
       “See,” said Unitas, “that’s where people don’t understand something about huge amounts of money. There’s definitely ‛dirty’ money that has to be laundered, which is where Jeffrey came in, but there’s also legitimate money. But there’s often so much of it that it, too,  has to be shuffled around and hidden somewhere it’s difficult to trace. Remember, not only was Jeffrey devious but he had a mathematician’s mind. He, really, more than anyone I’ve ever met, deeply understood numbers. He analyzed them dispassionately so that he could assess and adjust large amounts of cash so as to seem to disappear. Again, the shell game. Yet as a tax consultant he never really had more than two or three clients.”
       “So,” Katie spoke slowly, “while you say this goes on all the time, Epstein is the main pipeline and had the ability to play one off the other or bring these people together and work their deals through him.”
       “Exactly. Like you say, a pipeline, and if the pipeline breaks, the oil spills out all over the place and everything and everybody gets dirty. And it’s all done because he has them by the short hairs with regard to their attending his parties. Not only does he know where all the money is but he knows what special services this guy or that guy wants. I’m sure his mansions are all set up with video cameras. If he ever gets raided by the police of feds they’ll find them. But I can guarantee they won’t find any of the videos themselves, which he will have safely stored somewhere else and probably could flick a switch and have them all self-destruct.”
       “Do think all these men fear Jeffrey?”
       Unitas snickered. “These guys all thrive on risk. Jeffrey’s just another risk, but when you have all your colleagues, and even your enemies, in the same game, then they have to trust Jeffrey to protect them. So far it’s worked for him for a long time. And I and a lot of other people pray for his time to come.”
       The interview went on for a few more minutes, then Unitas was called by an employer to come finish the sales contract of his customer.
       “You interested in a new Cadillac, Katie?”
       “No, I’m good at the moment,” thinking how ridiculous she’d look driving around in a Seville, even if her father had always said a Caddie is the only car worth owning.

       David called Rush and asked him if there were any bankers he could speak to about Epstein’s money transfers, but Rush reminded  him that no one was going to speak to him if he wasn’t a cop or a reporter.
       “You can’t just waltz into a branch of JP Morgan and ask a manager about Epstein’s financials,” said Rush. “Did you ever think of getting a private investigator’s license?”
       “Never. I’m not interested in being hired to sneak around looking in windows.”
       “Then you’re not going to get to the money men. Maybe Katie can, but no one will talk to you. And both Barber and Cherico told me they can’t help you beyond what they’ve already told you. And that includes Katie.”
       “Well, I guess that means I’ll head back to New York. I’ll fly out of Miami.”
       “Why not just  catch a plane out of Palm Beach?”
       “There’s a guy I want to pay a call on.”
       Rush straightened himself in his chair and said, “David, I hope you’re not thinking of going after Vargas.”
       David shrugged and said, “Hey, thanks for all your help, Terry. I’ll call you if Katie and I come across anything else you should know.”
       By the time Rush could say, “David, don’t be an idiot,” his friend hung up.
      David had grown tired of the back-and-forth drive from Palm Beach to Miami, but just could not shake the opportunity to meet with Vargas face to face. As a cop he would have been on his doorstep the next day; as a guy with no badge, he was taking a chance of Vargas reporting him to the police for harassment. David already knew Vargas’s address out of which he operated his brothel in Calle Ocho, so he headed to Versailles to find out if Vargas had been in that day.     
    He approached the manager who had been present when Vargas had tried to pull Susannah from Sanchez’s table.
       “Señor, remember me?” asked David. “I want to thank you for backing me up when I was in here with Vargas.”
       “Not a problem, Señor. I don’t like his type in here, bringing in his girls with a client. Señora Sanchez would never do that.”
       “Has he been here today?”
       “No, I think he fears looking like a fool after the incident last week. Perdió la cara. He lost face.”                    
    David wanted to say, he’s going to lose more than face, but instead thanked the manager and drove to Vargas’s address. He parked across the street and waited. Over the next half hour he saw two men go into the house and one young woman leave. David knew that Vargas was not running a cheap whorehouse where any man could knock on the door unannounced and without an appointment. And it crossed his mind that if Vargas did not show up, David would be better off, but with a flight four hours away, he also had nothing else to do with his time. He only wished it wasn’t so damn hot and humid. Keeping the motor running to keep the a/c on would have looked suspicious.