THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS (Volume 1 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 33

Mike closed the door to his apartment and wrapped his arms around Karen. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

She grinned. "Show me?"

He kissed her passionately, and then grasped her hand and led her in the direction of his bedroom. Once again, the two born-again lovers recaptured the joy of their love and the ecstasy of their bodies. Fate had given them a second chance, and the rapture of the moment had rendered their problems irrelevant. For them, tomorrow was never.

The following morning, they enjoyed a late breakfast in bed. Then they set out for Servito's farm. When Mike's car emerged from the underground parking garage at his apartment building, the lovers failed to notice the black Mustang parked directly across the street. The driver was George Lanotti, and he was photographing as fast as he could click his Minolta.

Inside Servito's farmhouse, Mike examined the files and invoices in Servito's office while Karen took the stairway to the second floor. She entered the master bedroom and immediately noticed the bed was unmade. Both pillows had deep depressions, reeked of perfume, and were heavily marked with mascara. Rage and disgust exploded inside her when she found a discarded lipstick cartridge in the en suite bathroom's waste-basket. She ran down the stairs and hurried from the farmhouse, slamming the door behind her.

Startled by the noise, Mike hurried to the door. He saw Karen leaning against his car with her face buried in her hands. He ran to her and took her in his arms. "What happened?" he asked.

"This is insanity!" Karen shrieked, pressing her head against Mike's chest. "I don't care what the consequences are, I just want out."

"I don't understand. Why do you suddenly want out?"

Karen lifted her head and stared into Mike's eyes. "I gave that animal a son and nine years of my life!" she hissed. "This is my reward!" She removed the lipstick cartridge from her pocket and shoved it into Mike's gaze.

"Where did you get that?"

"Upstairs in the bathroom. Go upstairs and smell the sheets and pillows in the master bedroom. He's running a goddamned whore house out here!"

Mike kissed her forehead and wiped her tears. "Don't run, babe. Let it burn. Let's bring the son of a bitch down."

She broke from Mike's arms and walked away. After she'd gone several yards, she stopped and turned to face him. Her frown gradually transformed into an evil grin. "You're right. Let's go back in there and nail the son of a bitch!" she said. She hurried to him, reached for his hand, and led him back to the farmhouse.

Lanotti had watched the whole event from the cover of the trees, no more than a hundred feet away. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, but passed on the photo opportunity.

"Did you find anything?" Karen asked.

Mike nodded. "Let me show you something." He took her hand, led her to Servito's office, and pointed to numerous stacks of invoices on the floor. "I've been going through the files one drawer at a time. I pulled out anything that looked interesting. So far, everything looks interesting, but not incriminating."

Karen descended to her knees and began to flip through a stack of invoices. She studied one for several seconds. "Why did this appear interesting to you?"

"Good question. It shows that Niagara Oil & Gas sold gasoline to Triple K Gas Bars in Rome, New York. It also shows that Triple K paid New York State Road Tax and Federal Sales Tax to Niagara Oil & Gas. Niagara Oil & Gas is legally bound to remit the tax to the government, but I'm willing to bet Niagara paid it to Servito instead. I just wish there was some way we could prove it."

"Is Niagara Oil & Gas a refiner?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, why did it collect the tax?"

"Niagara Oil & Gas is a licensed wholesaler. It bought the gasoline from a refiner on an ex tax basis, collected the tax from Triple K, and presumably remitted it to the government."

"Suppose Niagara Oil & Gas decided not to remit the tax. How does the government control that?"

"The government licenses qualified wholesalers to collect tax on their account. Niagara Oil & Gas had to post a large bond to get that license, to ensure that the government gets its tax money. They also do frequent audits of wholesalers' books, just to keep them honest."

Karen nodded, but retained a puzzled expression. "If Niagara Oil & Gas is frequently audited, how could it keep any tax money?"

"Imports and exports," Mike replied. "Take that invoice for instance. I bet Niagara Oil & Gas bought that gasoline from a refiner in Canada, trucked it across the border, and sold it to Triple K in the United States. The purchase of gasoline in Canada wouldn't show up in the tax records in New York."

"Wouldn't the Americans get some record at the border?"

"Yes, but unless U.S. Customs physically verified the ultimate destination of the gasoline, and matched the delivery to the export manifest, the records would die in the files. Because the gasoline was bought for export, the Canadian Government assumed the gasoline left the country, and that the American taxes were paid and collected by American governments. Unless an anomaly showed up in American records of gasoline tax receipts, there would be no problem. If an anomaly did show up, the job of finding the cause would be horrendous. The feds would have to cross reference every single gasoline transaction, and physically verify them all."

"Do you think Jim's evading taxes?"

"If he's taking a couple million a month to Grand Cayman, I'd bet my life on it."