“I’ll see him as soon as I’m ready to. When you have evidence of theft, on the scale I’m talking about, you can’t trust anyone.”

Lenghe pulled over a bucket of popcorn. “I’m addicted to this stuff, you know. But it’s better than cigarettes.”

“And a number of other things.”

“You know, you’re dancing around the issue pretty good, son, so I’m just going to come out and say it. Have you finally found out about your father’s mines?”

Lane sat forward in his seat. “I’m sorry … what?”

“I told William to cut the shit with those diamond mines in Africa. Dumbest idea on the planet. Do you know, I went there with the wife last year—I’ll bet your dad didn’t tell you that I checked them out, did he? No? They’re not even holes in the ground. Either he got swindled or—well, the other option doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“Diamond mines?”

“And that isn’t all of it. WWB Holdings had a lot of different businesses under its umbrella. He said there were oil wells in Texas, and of course, now you can’t give crude away. A railway or two. Restaurants in Palm Beach, Naples, and Del Ray. And then some tech start-up that I don’t think ever went anywhere. Something about an app? I don’t get why the hell people waste their time with that shit—pardon my French. There were also a couple of hotels in Singapore and Hong Kong, a fashion house in New York City. I think he even invested in a motion picture or two.”

Lane was very aware of having to keep his voice level. “How did you hear about all this?”

“When you’ve got eighteen holes to get through on a golf course, things come up. I always told him, stick to the core business. All these bright ideas can be tempting, but more than likely, they’re just black holes, especially when you don’t know the given industry. I’m a farmer, plain and simple. I know the ins and outs of the seasons, the land, the crops and a single kind of cow. I think your father … well, I don’t want to disparage the dead.”

“Rip his memory to shreds, I don’t care. I’ve got to know, and anything you can tell me will help.”

Lenghe was silent for a time. “He always took me to Augusta. You want to know why?” When Lane nodded, the man said, “’Cuz those boys would never let a dirty-fingernail type like me in as a member. And while we were going around the course, he would talk about all these investments he was making. He had to compete about everything—and that’s not a criticism. I like to win, too. The difference between us, though, is that I know exactly where I come from and I’m not ashamed of it. Your father was really aware that all he had was not his own. The truth is, without him marrying your mom, Augusta wouldn’t have had him as a member, either.”

“I think that’s right.”

“And you know, I’d always wondered where he got the money to put into those ventures. Guess you’re just finding out now that he’s gone.”

Lane took a handful of popcorn on a reflex and chewed the stuff down even though he didn’t taste anything of it. “You know,” he muttered, “I always got the sense he resented my mother.”

“I think that’s why he was so determined to find these other opportunities. I mean, I get proposals all the time, from friends, associates, financial planners. And I throw them in the trash. Your father was looking for something that was his, always in search of a grounding. Me? I was only at Augusta because I like the course and I love golf.” Lenghe’s powerful shoulders shrugged, the seams of his polo struggling to hold in all that muscle. “Life is a lot more fun if you mow your own grass. I’m just saying.”

Lane fell silent for a time, looking out the oval window at the brown and gold UPS planes that were taking off one after the other in a distant part of the airport. Charlemont was smack-dab in the middle of the country, and that meant it was a perfect shipping hub. Like the BBC and the Sutton Distillery Corporation, UPS was one of the largest employers in the city and state.

It was almost unimaginable to think his family’s enterprise could fail. God, there were so many people who depended on it for their paychecks.

He’d never even thought of that before.

“Do you have any information on these businesses?” he said. “Any names? Places? I’ve got a buddy of mine going through the corporate accounts and he’s found the disbursements, but when he searched for anything under the name of WWB Holdings, he came up with nothing.”

“Your dad was pretty vague, but he did tell me some things. I can think on it and e-mail you what I know.”

“That’d be great.”

“So … what can I do for you boys? I’m very sure you didn’t come here for information you were unaware of my having.”

Lane cleared his throat. “Well, as you can guess … with senior management shut out and this internal investigation I’m conducting, the business is entering a period of transition that—”

“How much grain do you two need on account?”

Mack spoke up. “Six months would be great.”

Lenghe whistled. “That’s a lot.”

“We’ll give you excellent terms,” Lane said. “A big interest rate and you can take a security in an entire warehouse worth of bourbon barrels. And bear in mind, no matter what happens internally, our product is selling well and bourbon is hot right now. Cash flow over time is not going to be a problem.”

Lenghe made a humming noise, and you could practically smell the wood burning as he thought things over.

“You and I have a shared acquaintance,” he said. “Bob Greenblatt?”

“The investment banker?” Lane nodded. “I know him.”

“He says you’re quite the poker player.”

“I’ve thrown some cards with him.”

“You’ve taken him for some money, you mean.” Lenghe sat back and smiled as he wiped his fingers on a paper napkin. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’m a bit of a gambler. My wife’s a good Christian. She doesn’t really approve—she turns a blind eye, though, you know.”

Lane narrowed his eyes. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Well, I got an invitation to your father’s visiting hours. From your butler guy. E-mail was a surprise, but sure saves on postage money, so I liked that. Anyway, I’ll be coming into town for it, and what if you and I were to have a little friendly wager on some Texas Hold ’em. We could play for grain. Here’s the thing. Your family’s account was the first big one I ever had.” Lenghe nodded at Mack. “And your daddy’s the reason I got it. I took a bus all the way across three states because I didn’t have the money for a car, and Big Mack, as we called him, met with me and we hit it off. He gave me a quarter order. Then a half. Within three years, I was the sole corn provider and later, I put in the barley.”