The Big Scam Read Online Free PDF Page B

him because of it.”
    â€œWise guy” had been pronounced with slightly more enunciation, in the way of a person trying to sound familiar with a world in which he had no experience or insight. Before Hansen had worked his way through the management ranks to SAC, the majority of his time as a field agent had been spent in foreign counterintelligence, a specialty that kept its agents at a calculated distance from violent crime. Evidently his only exposure to organized crime had been at the movies. But Vanko preferred having him in charge because he was practical enough not to get in the way. “As much as hard work is necessary in these cases, it’ll never be as productive as a few well-placed moments of paranoia.”
    â€œYou are unbelievable. You get a call that it would be nice to turn Dimino, and the next thing I know he’s in, and we have to slap him to shut him up.”
    â€œThe world is overflowing with best-laid plans. Executing them is the hard part, and last night the troops did that with only a few minor problems. They’re the ones you should be telling this to.”
    â€œOkay, your people did a hell of a job last night.”
    â€œIf you mean that, I’d like to do something for Howard Snow. He was largely responsible for this thing going so well.”
    â€œNick, I seriously doubt that he had that much to do with it. His history is that of a screwup. If it was anybody else, I’d do it simply because you asked, but I can’t. I appreciate you trying to help him, but he’s got major baggage with OPR. Sticking an attaboy in his file isn’t going to help. This is one of the few times I can remember an agent actually being investigated for incompetence. I think we both know he’s terminal.”
    Hansen was right about the Office of Professional Responsibility investigation threatening Snow’s future as an agent, but still Vanko felt he had to try. “Out here, he’s been indispensable.”
    â€œChrist, Nick, he got a search warrant for the church of a high-profile black minister based on the information of an unproven informant. Then he executed it during a Sunday prayer meeting. He damn near started a riot. I suppose he’s a decent enough person, but as an agent, he just doesn’t get it. There’s a common-sense gene or something missing.”
    â€œBut they found the stolen equipment inside the church, exactly where the informant said it was.”
    Hansen took in a deep breath and let it stream out. “Let me give you the three un official reasons Snow is in trouble, each infinitely more important than any official reason, each indisputable. High-profile. Black. Minister. What’s legally right or wrong doesn’t matter. This is the twenty-first century. Politics trump the law.”
    Vanko knew what the SAC said was more true than not. “Could you put a memo in his file anyway? Who knows, it might help.”
    â€œI—”
    â€œPlease.”
    â€œOkay, okay. It’s a mystery to me how you get anything accomplished with that collection of freaks.”
    Freaks. The word made Vanko touch the right side of his face where the skin sagged against two long, thin horizontal scars, one along the hairline and the other immediately under the eye, giving it the appearance of melting wax. The word was invariably stated with disdain, the strongest nonprofane expression against the lower forms of the species. In a culture where most intolerance was spoken in hushed tones, it was pronounced with grinding conviction, a universally acceptable pillorying of those perceived to be clinging to the edges of society—the identification and distancing of caste.
    Vanko picked up the framed photo on his desk. It was taken at the twenty-fifth anniversary of his parents’ restaurant in New Jersey. Everyone was crowded into the room his father liked to advertise as “suitable for banquets.” Years earlier, after a