Funny Money td-18 Read online




  Funny Money

  ( The Destroyer - 18 )

  Warren Murphy

  Richard Sapir

  The San Diego branch of the Secret Service is receiving some absolutely perfect counterfeit U.S. currency in the mail, and getting nervous. A flood of these bogus bucks could cripple the economy. But plans for using the funny money are more devious than that - and it's all the work of an utterly gorgeous impossible brilliant female scientist and her not-quite-human associate, Mr. Gordons. She's holding the world's monetary system, as ransom for a NASA space-age computer program so advanced its use on earth is limited. In space? That's another matter - a matter for Remo Williams, the Destroyer, to settle before the future of America -- and the world -- becomes the property of a beautiful, diabolical creature and her unstoppable sidekick!

  ***********************************************

  * Title : #018 : FUNNY MONEY *

  * Series : The Destroyer *

  * Author(s) : Warren Murphy and Richard Sapir *

  * Location : Gillian Archives *

  ***********************************************

  CHAPTER ONE

  On the last day that his arms were attached to his shoulders and his spinal vertebrae still formed an unbroken, flexible column, James Castellano took down his .38 police special from the top shelf of his foyer closet.

  It was in a Thom McAn shoe box, secured with heavy electrical tape that his children could not pick or bite through, even if they had discovered it in the small ranch house in the middle-income San Diego neighborhood where Castellano lived.

  But the children were long gone now and had children of their own. The old tape cracked in his hands as he picked it off at the kitchen table where he sat eating a hard early summer peach and listening to his wife, Beth Marie, complain about prices, his salary, the new elements moving into the neighborhood, the car needing repairs, and of course, their not being able to afford the repairs.

  When Castellano heard a pause, he would say "uh huh" and when Beth Marie's voice would rise, he would say "that's awful." The last layer of tape came off with the top of the box, uncovering a price of $7.95; Castellano remembered the shoes as being finer and stronger than those he now paid $24.95 for.

  The pistol was nestled in a bedding of white toilet paper and was caked with a Vaseline-like substance someone at Weapons had given him years before. There was a note to himself on a three-by-five card, hand-printed in old fountain-pen strokes with a blob in the corner.

  The hand-printed card was a ten-step program he had written for cleaning the gun. It began with removing the sticky substance and it ended with "point it at Nichols's face and pull the trigger."

  Castellano smiled reading the card. Nichols, as he remembered, had been an assistant district supervisor of the Secret Service. Everyone had hated him. Now the hate seemed somewhat obscene because Nichols had died more than fifteen years ago of a heart attack, and now that Castellano himself was an assistant district supervisor for counterfeit currency—"funny money" as they called it—he realized Nichols had not been such a hard boss. He had just been precise. Well, you had to be precise. It was a precise business.

  "Uh huh," said Castellano, examining the absolutely clean barrel against the bright overhead kitchen light. "That's awful."

  "What's awful?" demanded Beth Marie.

  "What you said, dear."

  "What did I say?"

  "How awful it's becoming," said Castellano, and seeing that Step Eight called for the insertion of six bullets, he scraped around the bottom of the box until he found them.

  "What are we going to do about it? These prices are killing us. Killing us. It's like you're taking a pay cut every month," said Beth Marie.

  "We'll eat more hamburger, dear."

  "More hamburger? That's what we're cutting down on to save money."

  "What?" said Castellano, looking up from his gun.

  "I said we're cutting down on hamburger to save money."

  "Good, dear," said Castellano. In place of Step Ten, which at this date would have required digging up Assistant District Supervisor Nichols's long-dead body, Castellano flicked on the gun's safety catch and put the pistol in the inside pocket of his gray seersucker suit jacket. He would get a shoulder holster at the office.

  "Why the gun?" asked Beth Marie.

  "The office," said Castellano.

  "I know it's the office. I didn't think you were about to hold up the Bank of America. Have you been demoted to agent or something?"

  "No. It's something special tonight."

  "I know it's something special. You wouldn't be taking your gun out if it weren't something special. I know I'm wasting my time even asking."

  "Uh huh," said Castellano and kissed his wife on the cheek. He felt her hug him more strongly than usual and he returned the hard embrace just to let her know that the comfort of their relationship had not smothered his love.

  "Bring home some samples, dear. I hear they're getting better every day."

  "What?" asked Castellano.

  "Oh, don't look so worried. I read it in the paper. You didn't tell me anything. You never tell me anything. I read that there's a lot of counterfeit twenties around. High-quality ones."

  "Good, dear," said Castellano and kissed Beth Marie warmly on the lips. When she turned to go back into the kitchen, he patted her on her ample backside and she shrieked, just as shocked as she had been when they were first married and she had threatened if he ever did that again, she would leave him. More than twenty-five years and 70,000 pats ago.

  At the federal building in downtown San Diego, Castellano entered the blessed air-conditioned coolness of his office that made staying in a requirement for this hot summer day. In the afternoon, a messenger from Supplies brought him a shoulder holster and showed him how to put it on.

  At 4:45 P.M., the district supervisor called to ask him if he had his weapon. Castellano said "yes," and the supervisor said, "Good, I'll be back to you."

  At 7 P.M., two and a half hours after Castellano normally left to go home, the supervisor phoned again and asked whether Castellano had gotten it.

  "Got what?" asked Castellano.

  "It should have been there by now."

  There was a knock on his door and Castellano told his supervisor about it.

  "That must be it," the supervisor said. "Phone back after you have looked at it."

  Two men entered his office with a sealed manila envelope. The envelope was stamped in black ink: "For your eyes only." The two men asked him to sign for it, and when Castellano signed the receipt, he saw that his supervisor had signed it, and strangely enough so had the Undersecretary of the Treasury and the Undersecretary of State also. This envelope had been around. Following proper form, Castellano waited until the two men were out of his office before opening the seal of the envelope. Inside were two small envelopes and a note. The first small envelope was marked: "Open this first." The second warned: "Do not open without specific telephone authorization." The note from his supervisor said: "Jim, tell me what you think."

  Castellano opened the first envelope at the corner and shook out a mint-fresh fifty-dollar bill. He held it in his hands. The paper felt real. The most common mistake in counterfeiting was the paper. An experienced bank teller, ruffling through stacks of bills, could spot funny money easily, sometimes even with his eyes closed. There was a feel to counterfeit, a cheap paper kind of feel because the rag content was usually deficient.

  This bill felt real. He rubbed the corners of the bill against a piece of plain white paper, very hard. The green ink smeared off. This was a test not so much of the ink but of the paper. The special money paper of the United States government was not porous enough
for the proper ink to dry. So far this bill looked good. In the corner of his office, underneath blowups of now-famous counterfeits—like the Hitler fifties that were so good they just let them stay in circulation—was the ultraviolet light. Many counterfeiters, in an effort to get the right feel, which would fool a bank teller, would use commercial high rag content paper.

  The flaw was that commercial rag paper was made of used cloth and used cloth had been washed at least once and all detergents left traces that would show up under ultraviolet light. United States money was made with unwashed rags. New rag content.

  Castellano examined this bill under the eerie purplish light which made his white shirt cuffs seem to glow. There was no shineback from the bill and Castellano knew how this group must have done it. They had bleached fresh one-dollar bills. This paper was real.

  Doing that, though, posed a different problem for a counterfeiter. They had real paper with proper rag content but also a printing headache. Government money was printed on big sheets and cut down. But if a counterfeiter bleached individual dollar bills and then reprinted the paper in a higher denomination, the printing register would not be perfect. The printing might not be centered exactly. The back of the bill might differ in placement from the front. On this bill, the borders were perfect.

  Under a magnifying glass, Castellano looked at the lines in the face of Ulysses S. Grant. The engraving lines were clean and uninterrupted, the skillful work of a master engraver, the sort of lines on valid bills. A photo plate made for an offset printing press could sometimes achieved this sort of lines, but could not print them on the slick high rag content paper he was holding. On this sort of paper, offset ink would run and smudge and blot. Obviously the counterfeiter had hand-engraved plates and as Castellano examined the bowl of the five that made up the fifty in the corners of the bill, he softly whistled his admiration. A craftsman had made this bill.

  The last item he checked was the serial number. On rare occasions, a counterfeiter who had an excellent plate, correct paper, perfect register, and proper ink, would make the last common mistake. The serial numbers would be fuzzy. Those large crisp numbers on a bill somehow always got short shrift from a counterfeiter, who might even spend years engraving the rest of the plate. Castellano examined each number.

  "Sonuvabitch," he said and dialed his supervisor on his office phone. "Are you happy now? It's nine thirty and I've worked five hours overtime. I've been toting around an old pistol since morning wondering what I'm going to have to use it for and now I find it's an old, old trick that doesn't work on the greenest recruit. I don't need any more identification training. I'm the chief of that branch."

  "So you say the bill I sent you is genuine?"

  "It's as real as my anger."

  "You'll swear to it?"

  "You know damn well I will. You sent me a genuine. We would get these in training to trip us up. You probably got it, too. Each sample was better than the one before until they were giving you real ones to examine and you were pointing out flaws in the genuine."

  "Would you bet your job on it?"

  "Yes."

  "Don't. Open the second envelope and say nothing over the phone."

  Castellano tore open the second envelope labeled "Do not open without specific telephone authorization." Inside was another fifty-dollar bill, mint fresh. Castellano fingered the bill, glancing at the fine engraving around Grant's face.

  "I've got the envelope opened," Castellano said into the phone, cradled between shoulder and cheek.

  "Then compare the serial numbers and come on over."

  When James Castellano compared the serial numbers on the two fifty-dollar bills, he said softly to himself: "Jesus, no."

  When he reported to the supervisor's office with the two bills, he had two questions framed: Was there a mistake at the Kansas City mint? Or was America in serious trouble?

  Castellano didn't bother to ask the questions. He knew the answer when he entered the supervisor's office. It looked like a command post just before launching a small war. Castellano had not seen so many weapons since World War II. Four men in suits and ties cradled M-16s. They sat against the far wall with the blank bored expressions of men controlling fear. Another contingent stood around a table with a mockup of a street corner that Castellano recognized. He often took his wife to a restaurant on the southwest corner and when one of the men at the table moved a hand, Castellano saw that the restaurant was sure enough there in miniature.

  The supervisor was at his desk, checking his watch with a thin blond man who had a long reddish leather case on his lap. Castellano saw that it was sealed with a shiny combination lock.

  Seeing Castellano, the supervisor clapped his hands twice.

  "All right, quiet," he said. "We don't have much time. Gentlemen, this is James Castellano of my department. He is the one who will make the exchange. Until he—and no one else—signals that we have a valid exchange, I don't want anything walking out of that street corner."

  "What's up?" said Castellano. His mouth tasted brassy nervous and as the coldness in the faces of these strange men impressed itself upon him, he felt grateful they were all on the same side. He hoped.

  He wanted a cigarette badly even though he had given up smoking more than five years before.

  "What's happened is that we have been lucky. Very lucky, and I don't know why. I am not at liberty to tell you who these men are but needless to say we are getting cooperation whether we like it or not from another department."

  Castellano nodded. He felt moisture forming on his right hand which held the small envelopes with the two bills. He wished he was not holding them. He felt the men with the M-16s staring at him and he did not wish to look back at them.

  "We don't know how long these bills have been in circulation," the supervisor said. "It is just possible that if they've been on the streets any length of time, they might be a major factor in inflation. They could be making our currency worthless. I say 'could' because we just don't know. We don't know if a lot of this has been passed or if this is the first batch."

  "Sir," said Castellano, "how did we wind up knowing anything? I didn't realize this was queer until I saw the duplicate serial numbers."

  "That's just it. We got lucky. The forger sent them to us. This is the second set. The first set had different numbers. To prove they were forgeries, he had to produce identical serial numbers for us."

  "That's incredible," said Castellano. "What does he want from us? With his plates and printing process, he can buy anything."

  "Not anything, it seems. He wants this sophisticated software—computer programming—that's, well, part of our space program and not for sale. Jim, don't think I'm treating you like a child but I can only explain it to you the way it was explained to me. NASA, the space agency, says that when you send things into space they must be very small. Sometimes you have to send very complicated things into space and they have to do very big jobs. This all comes under a new discipline called miniaturization. These very small things can do very complicated things like reproduce the reactions of the retina of an eye. Okay. This program the counterfeiter wants is a close facsimile of what NASA calls creative intelligence. It's as close as you can get to it anyway, unless you want to build something the size of Pennsylvania. Understand?"

  "The guy who makes the fifties wants that thingamajig," said Castellano.

  "Right," said the supervisor. "He's willing to swap the gravure plates for them. Twelve fifteen tonight on the corner of Sebastian and Randolph. That's the mockup of the corner. Our friends will tell you what takes place there. Your job primarily is to make sure the gravure plates are valid."

  Castellano saw a gray-suited man with immaculately groomed hair at the corner of the mockup signal him with a blackboard pointer to come closer. Castellano went to the model and felt like God looking down at a little San Diego street corner.

  "I am Group Leader Francis Forsythe. You will identify the plates on the corner. The man you will meet w
ill be identifying the computer program. You will not leave the light of that corner with the plates. You will be picked up by an armored car. You are not to leave anyone's sight with those plates. Should the contact attempt to retrieve the plates for any reason whatsoever, you are authorized to kill said contact. Are you weapons-familiar?"

  "I've got a .38 here."

  "When was the last time you used it?"

  "Nineteen fifty-three or -four."

  "That's wonderful, Castellano. Well, just put it in the contact's face and pull the trigger hard and often if he tries something. Let me warn you again. You are not to leave that corner with the plates under possibility… no, make that probability of death."

  "You'd shoot me if I disappeared with the plates?"

  "With pleasure," said Forsythe and gave the street corner a tap with his pointer.

  "Well, I wasn't going anywhere anyhow. What good would the plates be to me? I don't have access to this guy's paper source. What would I print queer on? Paper towels?" asked Castellano.

  "It'll take paper towels to pick you up if you try to leave that corner," said Forsythe.

  "You must be CIA," said Castellano. "Nobody else on this earth is that stupid."

  "Let's calm down," said the district supervisor. "Jim, this plate process is so important it's more than just a counterfeit. It could literally wreck our country. That's why everything is so tight. Please try to cooperate and understand, okay, Jim? This is more than just another bogus bill. Okay?"

  Castellano nodded a tired acquiescence. He saw the man with the red leather case come to the table. Forsythe's pointer came down on a rooftop.

  "This is our primary sniper post and this man will man it. It has the least obstruction and best view. Show Mr. Castellano your weapon."

  Castellano watched the fingers work the combination on the red leather case so quickly no one could get a track on it. The case snapped open, revealing a fine-tooled thick rifle barrel and a metal stock set in red velvet. There were eight two-inch-long stainless steel cartridges, each tipped with a white metal substance that appeared to have been sharpened. Castellano had never seen cartridges that thin. They were like swizzle sticks.

 

    Acid Rock Read onlineAcid RockKill or Cure Read onlineKill or CureDeath Therapy Read onlineDeath TherapyChinese Puzzle Read onlineChinese PuzzleMafia Fix Read onlineMafia FixMurder Ward Read onlineMurder WardBrain Drain Read onlineBrain DrainSweet Dreams Read onlineSweet DreamsKing's Curse Read onlineKing's CurseSlave Safari Read onlineSlave SafariOil Slick Read onlineOil SlickUnion Bust Read onlineUnion BustDeadly Seeds Read onlineDeadly SeedsHoly Terror Read onlineHoly TerrorMurder's Shield Read onlineMurder's ShieldSummit Chase Read onlineSummit ChaseThe End of the Game td-60 Read onlineThe End of the Game td-60Death Check Read onlineDeath CheckDeadly Seeds td-21 Read onlineDeadly Seeds td-21Union Bust td-7 Read onlineUnion Bust td-7Shock Value td-51 Read onlineShock Value td-51Ghost in the Machine td-90 Read onlineGhost in the Machine td-90Date with Death td-57 Read onlineDate with Death td-57Fool's Flight (Digger) Read onlineFool's Flight (Digger)Infernal Revenue td-96 Read onlineInfernal Revenue td-96Brain Storm Read onlineBrain StormCoin of the Realm td-77 Read onlineCoin of the Realm td-77The Empire Dreams td-113 Read onlineThe Empire Dreams td-113Walking Wounded td-74 Read onlineWalking Wounded td-74Blood Lust td-85 Read onlineBlood Lust td-85Fool's Gold Read onlineFool's GoldMarket Force td-127 Read onlineMarket Force td-127Lucifer's Weekend (Digger) Read onlineLucifer's Weekend (Digger)Firing Line td-41 Read onlineFiring Line td-41Blood Ties td-69 Read onlineBlood Ties td-69Time Trial td-53 Read onlineTime Trial td-53Next Of Kin td-46 Read onlineNext Of Kin td-46When Elephants Forget (Trace 3) Read onlineWhen Elephants Forget (Trace 3)Feeding Frenzy td-94 Read onlineFeeding Frenzy td-94Holy Terror td-19 Read onlineHoly Terror td-19Power Play td-36 Read onlinePower Play td-36The Wrong Stuff td-125 Read onlineThe Wrong Stuff td-125Spoils Of War td-45 Read onlineSpoils Of War td-45Timber Line td-42 Read onlineTimber Line td-42Lost Yesterday td-65 Read onlineLost Yesterday td-65By Eminent Domain td-124 Read onlineBy Eminent Domain td-124The Ultimate Death td-88 Read onlineThe Ultimate Death td-88A Pound of Prevention td-121 Read onlineA Pound of Prevention td-121Dead Letter (Digger) Read onlineDead Letter (Digger)Terror Squad Read onlineTerror SquadBottom Line td-37 Read onlineBottom Line td-37Created, the Destroyer td-1 Read onlineCreated, the Destroyer td-1Ground Zero td-84 Read onlineGround Zero td-84Murder's Shield td-9 Read onlineMurder's Shield td-9Encounter Group td-56 Read onlineEncounter Group td-56The Last Alchemist td-64 Read onlineThe Last Alchemist td-64Shooting Schedule td-79 Read onlineShooting Schedule td-79Troubled Waters td-133 Read onlineTroubled Waters td-133Voodoo Die td-33 Read onlineVoodoo Die td-33Killing Time td-50 Read onlineKilling Time td-50Kill Or Cure td-11 Read onlineKill Or Cure td-11Profit Motive td-48 Read onlineProfit Motive td-48Fade to Black td-119 Read onlineFade to Black td-119Disloyal Opposition td-123 Read onlineDisloyal Opposition td-123Oil Slick td-16 Read onlineOil Slick td-16Look Into My Eyes td-67 Read onlineLook Into My Eyes td-67Last Call td-35 Read onlineLast Call td-35High Priestess td-95 Read onlineHigh Priestess td-95Death Sentence td-80 Read onlineDeath Sentence td-80Brain Drain td-22 Read onlineBrain Drain td-22Child's Play td-23 Read onlineChild's Play td-23An Old Fashioned War td-68 Read onlineAn Old Fashioned War td-68Wolf's Bane td-132 Read onlineWolf's Bane td-132Smoked Out (Digger) Read onlineSmoked Out (Digger)Acid Rock td-13 Read onlineAcid Rock td-13Ship Of Death td-28 Read onlineShip Of Death td-28Mugger Blood td-30 Read onlineMugger Blood td-30Sue Me td-66 Read onlineSue Me td-66Rain of Terror td-75 Read onlineRain of Terror td-75Cold Warrior td-91 Read onlineCold Warrior td-91Syndication Rites td-122 Read onlineSyndication Rites td-122Mob Psychology td-87 Read onlineMob Psychology td-87Bloody Tourists td-134 Read onlineBloody Tourists td-134Death Therapy td-6 Read onlineDeath Therapy td-6Mafia Fix td-4 Read onlineMafia Fix td-4Hostile Takeover td-81 Read onlineHostile Takeover td-81Killer Chromosomes td-32 Read onlineKiller Chromosomes td-32King's Curse td-24 Read onlineKing's Curse td-24Last Rites td-100 Read onlineLast Rites td-100Bidding War td-101 Read onlineBidding War td-101Angry White Mailmen td-104 Read onlineAngry White Mailmen td-104The Head Men td-31 Read onlineThe Head Men td-31Political Pressure td-135 Read onlinePolitical Pressure td-135Once a Mutt (Trace 5) Read onlineOnce a Mutt (Trace 5)In Enemy Hands td-26 Read onlineIn Enemy Hands td-26Remo The Adventure Begins Read onlineRemo The Adventure BeginsLast War Dance td-17 Read onlineLast War Dance td-17Misfortune Teller td-115 Read onlineMisfortune Teller td-115Skin Deep td-49 Read onlineSkin Deep td-49Unite and Conquer td-102 Read onlineUnite and Conquer td-102Murder Ward td-15 Read onlineMurder Ward td-15Dangerous Games td-40 Read onlineDangerous Games td-40Created, the Destroyer Read onlineCreated, the DestroyerThe Final Crusade td-76 Read onlineThe Final Crusade td-76Summit Chase td-8 Read onlineSummit Chase td-8The Final Reel td-116 Read onlineThe Final Reel td-116Dying Space td-47 Read onlineDying Space td-47Assassins Play Off td-20 Read onlineAssassins Play Off td-20Pigs Get Fat (Trace 4) Read onlinePigs Get Fat (Trace 4)And 47 Miles of Rope (Trace 2) Read onlineAnd 47 Miles of Rope (Trace 2)Bloodline: A Novel Read onlineBloodline: A NovelUnnatural Selection td-131 Read onlineUnnatural Selection td-131Judgment Day td-14 Read onlineJudgment Day td-14Line of Succession td-73 Read onlineLine of Succession td-73Midnight Man td-43 Read onlineMidnight Man td-43The Last Dragon td-92 Read onlineThe Last Dragon td-92Total Recall td-58 Read onlineTotal Recall td-58Balance Of Power td-44 Read onlineBalance Of Power td-44Sole Survivor td-72 Read onlineSole Survivor td-72The Sky is Falling td-63 Read onlineThe Sky is Falling td-63Survival Course td-82 Read onlineSurvival Course td-82Death Check td-2 Read onlineDeath Check td-2The Seventh Stone td-62 Read onlineThe Seventh Stone td-62Deadly Genes td-117 Read onlineDeadly Genes td-117American Obsession td-109 Read onlineAmerican Obsession td-109Slave Safari td-12 Read onlineSlave Safari td-12Bay City Blast td-38 Read onlineBay City Blast td-38Sweet Dreams td-25 Read onlineSweet Dreams td-25Feast or Famine td-107 Read onlineFeast or Famine td-107Chinese Puzzle td-3 Read onlineChinese Puzzle td-3Chained Reaction td-34 Read onlineChained Reaction td-34The Final Death td-29 Read onlineThe Final Death td-29Brain Storm td-112 Read onlineBrain Storm td-112Getting Up With Fleas (Trace 7) Read onlineGetting Up With Fleas (Trace 7)Father to Son td-129 Read onlineFather to Son td-129Dr Quake td-5 Read onlineDr Quake td-5Lords of the Earth td-61 Read onlineLords of the Earth td-61Trace (Trace 1) Read onlineTrace (Trace 1)The Color of Fear td-99 Read onlineThe Color of Fear td-99The Last Monarch td-120 Read onlineThe Last Monarch td-120The Eleventh Hour td-70 Read onlineThe Eleventh Hour td-70Engines of Destruction td-103 Read onlineEngines of Destruction td-103The Arms of Kali td-59 Read onlineThe Arms of Kali td-59Killer Watts td-118 Read onlineKiller Watts td-118Terror Squad td-10 Read onlineTerror Squad td-10Target of Opportunity td-98 Read onlineTarget of Opportunity td-98Arabian Nightmare td-86 Read onlineArabian Nightmare td-86Waste Not, Want Not td-130 Read onlineWaste Not, Want Not td-130White Water td-106 Read onlineWhite Water td-106Dark Horse td-89 Read onlineDark Horse td-89Return Engagement td-71 Read onlineReturn Engagement td-71Last Drop td-54 Read onlineLast Drop td-54Prophet Of Doom td-111 Read onlineProphet Of Doom td-111Blue Smoke and Mirrors td-78 Read onlineBlue Smoke and Mirrors td-78Air Raid td-126 Read onlineAir Raid td-126Failing Marks td-114 Read onlineFailing Marks td-114Bamboo Dragon td-108 Read onlineBamboo Dragon td-108Terminal Transmission td-93 Read onlineTerminal Transmission td-93The Last Temple td-27 Read onlineThe Last Temple td-27Identity Crisis td-97 Read onlineIdentity Crisis td-97Funny Money td-18 Read onlineFunny Money td-18Master's Challenge td-55 Read onlineMaster's Challenge td-55