Blood Orchid Read Free Page B

in charge of the FBI’s Miami office, answered a buzz from his secretary.
    “Yes?”

    “A Howard Singleton from the GSA is on the phone.”
    “Is this about my request for additional office space?”
    “He didn’t say.”
    Crisp punched the flashing button. “Mr. Singleton, this is Harry Crisp.”
    “Good morning.”
    “I hope this is about getting us more office space.”
    “That request is being processed, Mr. Crisp, but this is about something else.”
    “What’s up?”
    “You remember a couple of years back you folks confiscated a piece of property up in Orchid Beach?”
    “Yeah, sure; Palmetto Gardens. There was a huge drug-based money-laundering operation being run from there.”
    “Right. Well, we got authority a few weeks ago to sell the development.”
    “Yeah, that figures. Did you sell it yet?”
    “Yes, but there’s something fishy about the bidding.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “We got only three bids, all of them low, only one of them acceptable.”
    “Listen, Howard, I’m not in the real estate business.”
    “That’s not what I’m calling about. We anticipated bids from two large Miami property developers, and they were both murdered less than a week before bidding closed.”
    “Murder happens.”
    “Sure, but why these two guys?”
    “Who were they?”
    “Manuel Jimenez and Steven Steinberg. According to the papers, they had no connection, except that myoffice had talked with both of them several times about a bid on Palmetto Gardens. Then they get killed right before it’s time to submit sealed bids, way too late for anybody else to get involved who hadn’t already prepared a bid. What does that suggest to you?”
    “You said you accepted a bid?”
    “Yes, from a company called Blood Orchid Properties.”
    Crisp made a note of that.
    “They’re a Panamanian company, registered to do business in the U.S.”
    Crisp kept writing as Singleton gave him what he had on BOP.
     
    Holly’s secretary buzzed her. “Harry Crisp on line one.”
    She picked up the phone. “Harry, how are you?”
    “I’m good, Holly, you?”
    “Good.”
    “How’s Ham? He all healed up?”
    “Sure, a long time ago.” Ham had been shot while playing a key role in an FBI investigation.
    “We’ve always been grateful for his help on that thing, you know.”
    “Then you might tell him so.”
    “I had the attorney general write him a letter,” Crisp said. “What does he want, a handwritten note from the president?”
    “Forget it, Harry. What’s up?”
    “Remember Palmetto Gardens?”
    “How could I forget?” She had put the FBI onto what was happening there and had been very important in cracking the case.
    “It sold the other day.”

    “I saw something in the local paper about it. Whoever bought it got a real deal.”
    “Yeah. Problem is, two Miami developers who were supposed to bid got themselves murdered before they could submit something.”
    “Oh, yeah. I read about that in the New York Times. I even talked to the investigating officer about it.”
    “Why?”
    “We had an attempt on a developer’s life up here a couple of weeks back—a retired developer from New York.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “A single rifle shot, missed him by inches, went in one side of the man’s greenhouse, came out the other. Assassin’s weapon.”
    “You investigated this?”
    “I was standing next to the man when it happened.”
    “Who is he?”
    “Name is Ed Shine.” She spelled it for him.
    “I’ll run it, see if we come up with something.”
    “Okay.”
    “Do you know if he bid on the property?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Can you find out?”
    “I can call and ask him. Why? You think that whoever bought the property wanted Shine out of the way, too?”
    “Could be. Is he still healthy?”
    “Far as I know.”
    “Let me hear from you. Best to Ham.” He hung up.
    Holly’s secretary buzzed again. “A Mr. Ed Shine, on one.”
    There was a convenient coincidence. Holly punched