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  “He’s the focus of the investigation,” said Branson. “The Tambini family has been bringing drugs into the northeast, principally through Boston and Providence, for years. We suspected that they were coming in through the Caribbean, but they shut down before we got our ducks in a row.

  “About ten months ago, an undercover agent in southern California made a connection in Mexico and was able to trace the stuff over the border, into California, Utah, and on into Massachusetts.

  Then…nothing. We had all the players, all the exchanges. But where the hell did it end up? It’s on the street here…that’s for damn sure.”

  He stopped there, and pulled into a parking space behind a square, red brick, four-story building. He got out of the car and Sherm followed along, taking the elevator with him up to the fourth floor.

  They entered a large, open room with a lot of desks and people, mostly men, many of them eating lunch. Branson signaled to a number of them to follow him as they passed. Finally, they were all assembled; eleven white men, one Hispanic and two black men, including Sherm…fourteen in all. They were in the conference room, seated around a big, nicked-up, rectangular table.

  “This is special agent Sherman Dixon, from the Washington office,” Branson began, introducing Sherm. The men around the table spontaneously said their names, acknowledging him, one by one. Branson continued with his intro.

  “He’s temporarily assigned to this task force. He has some inside connections in both Avram Solomon’s company and his family…where there are some other things going on, I understand. So we’re here to share information.

  “I don’t want anybody to hold back. Free questions and answers, all around. I’ve been giving him an overview; so let me finish up with that, first.

  “As I was saying, Dixon,” he said, turning to Sherman, “we traced the stuff coming into Massachusetts, and then it disappeared… a dead end. They’re cutting it and storing it somewhere, but damned if we can find out where. But we know it’s the Tambini family.

  “Then this Avram Solomon’s unlisted phone number turns up on Guido, ‘Guy’ Tambini’s home phone log. There were calls to Solomon Chrysler before, but we never thought about it, because Silvio’s son, Guy, drives a Chrysler. And this was no wrong number, either. It was a ten minute call. And Avram Solomon lives alone, so he was the one answering the phone, talking to Guy Tambini, who also lives alone, and who called Solomon’s unlisted number.

  “I mean, this was a surprise to us, Dixon. This Solomon looks like a damn pillar of the community! He moves around in society… he’s at every charitable fundraiser…he’s on the board of the museum! He’s a successful businessman. His uncle is a prominent, respected attorney. He lives on Beacon Hill, for God’s sake!

  “So what’s he doing talking to a Mafia boss? That was the question. So we started watching the Solomon dealerships and his townhouse. And everything looks as normal as apple pie. And then you started asking questions about him. And here you are…and I hope you can help us.”

  Branson sat down, and everybody looked at Sherm.

  Sherman stood up and began to tell them about Joe Garrett and Julie O’Hara investigating the death of the artist, Marcus Solomon, in Key West, about Marc being Avram Solomon’s half-brother. He also told them about the impending, multimillion- dollar sale of the island, Castle Cay, which was evidently used by drug traffickers in the past.

  “How does the death fit into our present investigation here, agent Dixon?” asked the gray haired fellow. Sherm thought his name was Jack, but he wasn’t sure.

  “I don’t know,” said Sherm. “But in the course of the murder investigation, they met with Avram Solomon’s uncle…the attorney…plus a GM in one of his dealerships, and a former employee in his central payroll department.

  “All of these people suspect Avram Solomon of criminal activity, and I’ve set up meetings with them for this afternoon and this evening to see if we can connect the dots. They are very concerned about confidentiality, but I’m sure I can bring agent Branson along.”

  “Is Solomon an official suspect in his brother’s murder?” asked the Hispanic guy, who had introduced himself as ‘Alvarez’.

  “No,” said Sherm. “He has a solid alibi. He was here when it happened. Another thing, he doesn’t profit from the sale of the island. He doesn’t appear to have a motive.”

  “Still,” said agent Alvarez, “a murder and a multimillion-dollar deal happening at the same time?”

  “Yes,” said Sherm, “that’s what has aroused all the suspicion surrounding Avram Solomon. He is both the brother of the murder victim and the trustee in charge of the sale, and there is some question as to whether Marc Solomon was cooperating.”

  “So who inherits?” asked the black agent at the end of the table. He was a studious looking man, probably in his late thirties, with rimless glasses. Not surprisingly, Sherm remembered his name, Thomas Bailey.

  “I’ve been told the uncle, attorney Matthew Castle, at Connor, Castle & Mann here in Boston, inherits the bulk of the estate, agent Bailey,” said Sherm.

  “Maybe there’s a conspiracy between Castle and Solomon,” said Bailey.

  “That’s even weirder,” said Branson, standing up. “The Castles are rich and they came over on the damn Mayflower. Let’s stop speculating on the murder in Florida, and stick to the drug investigation here.

  •

  “Okay, Dixon. Your turn,” he said. “What questions have you got for us?”

  “I’m assuming you’re working in teams,” said Sherm. “Who’s handling the surveillance of the Boston dealership?”

  The gray haired guy that had opened the question and answer period raised his hand, as did the dark haired, mid-forties guy next to him.

  “Sorry,” said Sherm, “I didn’t catch everyone’s name on the first go-round. Is it Jack?”

  “Yeah, Jack O’Brien. This is my partner, Mike Simmons,” said the older man. “We’ve only been watching a few days. So far, we haven’t seen anything unusual going on. We spoke with the local cops who patrol that area, and they didn’t have anything much to say about Solomon Chrysler, either. They did mention that our guy comes back in after closing one night a week to work, but we haven’t seen him do it. He waves to them when they drive by, they said. That’s it.”

  “That could be interesting,” said Sherm. “There’s been some suspicion of money laundering. Solomon is more than the son of the owner; he’s an accountant, and he’s listed as both the President and Treasurer of the company. The Boston store is where all the money is handled; the other stores are satellite operations. “

  “’Some suspicion’? Got anything more solid than that? Anything we could go in on, Dixon?” asked Bob Branson.

  “Not yet, but maybe today,” said Sherm, thoughtfully. “The people we’re meeting are highly credible, in my opinion, and they know this guy well. I’m beginning to think that he’s the missing piece in two puzzles…”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 53

  Matthew Castle leaned back in his well-worn chair behind his desk at Connor, Castle & Mann, and regarded the two agents sitting across from him.

  “I’m not at all surprised to have the FBI questioning me about my nephew, Avram,” said Matt. “I’m only surprised that it took this long for it to happen.”

  “What, exactly, do you mean by that, Mr. Castle?” asked Sherman Dixon.

  “I mean that I think he’s a dangerous and unscrupulous man. I’ve known him since he was born. He was a horrible child. He beat his brother, Marc, so severely he had to be hospitalized when they were boys. My sister, Miriam, took him to a psychiatrist for a while. The change in Avram was astonishing. He never did anything wrong after that. At least, not while anyone was watching. He was solicitous, and overly polite to Miriam…it was sickening…I thought it bordered on mockery. But my sister drank it in like a thirsty plant.”

  “Were there any more incidents between the brothers?” asked Sherm.

  “No,
” said Matt. “Marc was afraid of Avram. He stayed away from him.”

  “All the charitable work Avram Solomon does,” said Bob Branson, “how do you explain that? It doesn’t seem to square with your description of the man.”

  “It’s an act, in my opinion,” said Matt.

  “Does your firm handle any legal business for Solomon Chrysler?” asked Bob. “Are they clients?”

  “Not any more. Not since Milton Solomon retired,” said Matt. “There was only the one dealership then, here in the city.”

  “So Avram Solomon is responsible for the expansion to two other locations,” said Bob. “He must be a good businessman, at least.”

  “Oh, he’s smart. No question about that,” said Matt.

  “Would you happen to know what law firm Mr. Solomon switched to, Mr. Castle?” asked Bob.

  “I understand they’re with Cardenas & Shaw,” said Matt.

  Bob Branson jotted that down.

  “Are you personally aware of, or do you suspect, any illegal activity related to Avram Solomon or his business?” asked Bob.

  “No,” said Matt. “As I said, it wouldn’t surprise me, but I don’t know of any illegal activity involving Avram.”

  Sherman could tell that Bob Branson was essentially done with questioning Matthew Castle. He wasn’t, however.

  “The island, Castle Cay. It originally belonged to your family?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Matt. “My father left it to Miriam, who was the oldest. She left it, in trust, to Marcus. Against my advice, she named Avram as trustee. I suggested my partner, Tom Connor, or myself. She thought that Avram was smart, and he would be ‘a good conservator’.”

  “What do you know about the island?” asked Sherm.

  “Nothing, really. I know a cruise line has made an offer to buy it. I haven’t personally been there since I was a child. Frankly, I didn’t like Milton Solomon very much. And, as I mentioned, I didn’t like being around Avram at all. So, I had no desire to vacation there with them.

  ”Miriam generally came to visit me at home. She frequently brought Marc. My wife was fond of him and he got along well with my kids. Miriam would never bring Avram to my house, though. We never spoke of it, but she knew I didn’t want him there.”

  Neither agent could think of anything else to ask Matt Castle that would be useful. Obviously, the man had strong negative feelings about Solomon, but that didn’t help them any.

  “Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Castle,” said Sherm. “Please give us a call if you think of anything else.” He gave him a card, and they all shook hands.

  Sherman shook his head as they made their way back to Bob’s car in the parking garage across the street.

  “I hope we get more useful information from the Soldanos, Bob,” said Sherm. “Sorry. I guess we wasted time with Matt Castle.”

  “No, we didn’t,” said Bob Branson. “We found out that Solomon has a mob lawyer…John Cardenas.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 54

  It was dark when the two agents arrived in Salem, Massachusetts…a city made famous by witchcraft and magic. Sherm was looking forward to meeting the Soldanos. Bob was hoping for a magical break in the investigation.

  Pete Soldano answered the door.

  “Hi. Sherman Dixon,” said Sherm, showing Pete his identification. “This is Special Agent Robert Branson from the Boston field office.”

  Bob held out his identification, also.

  “Hi,” said Pete. “C’mon in.”

  Joan was nervously waiting in the living room. She stood as Pete introduced her to the agents.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said. “Please, sit down. Can I get you something to drink? You know, a coke? Or some water?”

  “Some water would be good, thanks,” said Sherm.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, and left to get the water.

  Pete Soldano couldn’t help staring at Sherm Dixon. He’d had no idea that the man was black, or so tall. He’d actually had to duck as he came through the front door!

  For his part, Sherm had pictured Pete and Joan Soldano correctly, except for their deep tans. He thought they looked like they lived year-round in Miami.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I brought another agent along, Pete. Bob has an interest in Avram Solomon, apart from Marcus Solomon’s death,” said Sherm.

  “No,” said Pete. “We made our decision to help…whatever you need to do.”

  Joan returned with four glasses of water on a tray, set the tray on the coffee table and sat next to Pete on the sofa.

  “So, where do we start?” asked Pete, looking at the two men.

  “I understand that you’ve worked for Solomon Chrysler for twenty years,” said Sherm. “That’s a long time. It tells me that you’re a loyal employee, Pete. And yet, I know from Joe Garrett and Julie O’Hara that things have changed a lot over the years that have caused you to distrust Avram Solomon, or have some misgivings about him. Why don’t you begin by telling us what has changed, what has bothered you?”

  “Well, I guess I was just a lot happier working for Milton Solomon. Joan worked there, too, in those days,” said Pete, looking at her and giving her hand a squeeze. “Milton had respect for people. And he didn’t micro-manage, you know? When he put someone in a position of authority, they were in charge of that department.

  “At first, when Avram came to work there, he just handled the payroll department, where Joan worked. But after Milton’s wife died, he gradually turned over more and more responsibility to Avram. Eventually, he called a meetin’ and told us that he was retirin’, and that Avram was the new President of the company. Of course, by then, we were expectin’ it.

  “I wasn’t thrilled about it, but the good news was that the company was expandin’ to Lynn, so I applied for the GM position. I got the job and that worked out good for us, because Joan had gotten into a fight with Avram over some payroll issues and really hated workin’ for him. So, anyway, she was able to leave and be at home for the kids. That’s when we moved here to Salem.”

  “What were the ‘payroll issues’ that upset you, Joan?” asked Sherm.

  “Nothing important, you know, or illegal,” said Joan. “Some paychecks bounced, and I thought there should be some reserve money in the payroll account, you know, so it wouldn’t happen again? It was just a small thing. I suggested it to Avram and he was very nasty about it. He said that ‘it was none of my business’, you know, that I was just ‘supposed to type the checks’, or something to that effect. It was very embarrassing and unnecessary. I was glad we were moving here. It was an excuse to leave, you know?”

  “So, is the payroll for all the stores done at the Boston location?” asked Bob.

  “Yes,” said Pete. “That and everything else. Except for individual car deals and financin’, everything has to go through Boston and be approved by Avram.”

  “But, he must be a good businessman. Isn’t there a third dealership now, in Waltham?” asked Bob.

  “Yes. That’s what really got me wonderin’,” said Pete, shaking his head. “He’s not a good businessman. He makes terrible decisions. Even after all this time, he still doesn’t know his ass from his elbow about the damn car business!

  “My store could be making a lot more money than it does, but I’ve got my hands tied. The Boston lot, and the store, too, is small. Too small to generate a lot of money…and it takes a lot of money to expand! So, how’s he doin’ it? Listen, Miriam Castle came from money…but not Milt. And, from what I heard, she didn’t love Milt. I heard she left her money to Marc. So where is Avram gettin’ the money to expand the business and live like he does? I just don’t get it, you know?”

  Sherm looked at Bob Branson. Bob was quiet…thinking. No one said anything for a minute or two.

  “Why didn’t they expand the Boston car lot?” asked Bob. “There’s a defunct gas station next door. Why didn’t Avram buy it?”

  “Exactly! They already own it! See what I mean?�
�� said Pete. “I would have done that, years ago. We’ve got more room than we need out in Waltham and not enough room in Boston. It doesn’t make sense!”

  The four talked a little more, Sherm and Bob thanked the Soldanos, and they took their leave, heading back to Boston.

  “Sharp guy, that Pete,” said Sherman.

  “Yep,” agreed Bob. “Solomon’s moves may not make much sense for his car business, but they make plenty of sense for his drug business.”

  Sherman nodded.

  Bob pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.

  “Jack? Are you and Mike watching Solomon Chrysler?”

  “Good. Oh, yeah? He’s there?”

  Bob nodded and glanced at Sherm.

  “I want you guys to circle the block. That way you can keep an eye on Solomon and see when he leaves. But, listen, I want you pay particular attention to the closed gas station on the corner. See if there’s an entrance on the other street. See if anyone goes in or out of there.

  “Don’t slow down; don’t stop. Just keep circling. Do it until midnight. Good. See you in the morning.”

  He flipped the phone shut.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 55

  What the hell are they doing now?

  Avram saw the blue Camry coming up the street for the third time, slowly. At least, he thought it was them. It was dark out, and hard to see through the lowered mini-blinds on his office window.

  Yesterday they mostly just sat there. Who the fuck are they? Not cops. Silvio’s men? Feds?

  He got up casually from his chair, papers in hand, and slipped out the partially opened door to the corridor. He saw the security guard across the hall in the glass-enclosed business office looking at a newspaper, and nodded to him, smiling. He went down the hall, opened the men’s room door, and shut it without going in. He dashed into the service department and out a small door to the right rear of the building, propping it open with a bunched floor mat.

  He darted across the narrow lot, ducking below the cars, to where he could see through the vinyl slats in the chain-link fence. The Camry was coming around.