“You have five minutes before the floor manager gets back from lunch,” Mr.

Vance said, his voice flat and clipped as he straightened a stack of ledger sheets.

I took the blue folder out of my leather shoulder bag and laid three sets of bank transfer receipts on his dark desk blotter.

“These are the wire logs from the SoHo shell account from December nineteenth through January third.”

Mr.

Vance pulled a heavy magnifying glass over the paper, tracing the printed lines with a manicured fingernail.

“Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars, transferred in three separate amounts.”