Finlay nodded across to me. It was my theory, so I got to explain it.
“OK,” I said. “I’ll do that, Charlie. But like I say, don’t expect miracles. I think we’re looking at something very bad here.”
“Counterfeiting,” I said. “This is about counterfeit money. Joe was running the Treasury Department’s defense for them. You know anything about that sort of a thing down here? Either of you?”
“He grew up abroad,” I said. “He had his teeth fixed wherever he was living. He broke his right arm when he was eight and had it set in Germany. He had his tonsils out in the hospital in Seoul.”
“Listen, Finlay,” I said. “I don’t care whose it is. All I care is whose it isn’t. Understand? It isn’t my phone. So you call it up and John Doe in Atlanta or Jane Doe in Charleston answers it. Then you know it isn’t mine.”
“He was part of our retail operation,” the guy said. “We closed it down.”