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Rapp could tell by his tone that he wasn’t impressed. “Did you find the money trail?”
“The start of it. Chase Manhattan provided the funds for closing here in the States.”
“Where’d the money come from before it got to Chase?”
“Nassau, and that’s going to take a little longer to crack.”
“Why?”
“Royal Bank of Nassau . . . very good security. I’ll crack it eventually, but it’s going to take the better part of a day if not the weekend.”
“Shit.” All this international banking secrecy drove Rapp nuts.
“Give me a few hours. I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“Good. Get to it. I’ll be down to grab the phone in a few.” Rapp looked back at Kennedy and said, “I think you should call George and Catherine. Try to explain our predicament.”
Kennedy looked at the clocks on the wall behind her desk and then hit the intercom button and asked her assistant to get Butler and Cheval on the phone. “Tell them it’s urgent, please.”
“Any ideas?” Rapp asked.
“A few. Nothing great, though.”
“I think I might be able to thread the needle.”
Thirty seconds later Butler and Cheval were on the line. “I’ve got Mitch here with me,” Kennedy said into the speakerphone as Rapp joined her at the edge of the desk.
“Hello, Mitch,” Cheval said, “you were going to send me those DNA samples from the six terrorists.”
“Sorry, Catherine, but I might have something better.” Rapp filled them in on the double homicide in Iowa, the explosives, and the fake IDs. “One of these guys looks vaguely familiar to me. I could swear I’ve seen a photo of him recently.” Rapp shared a look with Kennedy and added, “He looks Moroccan.”
There was a prolonged silence and then Cheval asked, “Why don’t you send me the photo?”
“On its way shortly. When you get it . . . maybe you could run it by your people in North Africa and see if they get a hit. Maybe it matches a passport on file.”
“I will do that.”
Butler cleared his throat and asked, “What about the other photo?”
“He looks Saudi to me,” Rapp replied.
“I see,” Butler said. “What exactly are you looking for, Irene?”
“Just trying to be careful, George. You know how this works. If we put these guys on our watch list and tip off the FBI, they’re going to want to know how we figured out who they were. So far, Mitch is running with the idea that they don’t look Hispanic like their names would suggest.”
“Yeah,” Rapp said, “I’m thinking Moroccan and Saudi.”
“I just received the photos,” Cheval said. “The one man is definitely Moroccan. I think I can get independent confirmation for you within the hour.”
“By independent, do you mean something the FBI could use in court?”
“Yes. I would be careful with this other photo, though. I’m not sure the Saudis will be much help. They might even begin to destroy evidence.”
“I’m not sure we need confirmation on both photos at the moment,” Kennedy said. “The Moroccan should be good enough to pass the entire thing off to the FBI nice and clean.”
“Anything from my end?” Butler asked.
Rapp leaned in. “If you could show the second photo to the right people, George, that would be great.”