“We wouldn’t expose ourselves to that extent on a single loan.”
“You know what I mean.” “Yeah,” Cameron said.
“Yeah, I do. You got a reason for this? You’re not thinking of asking us to loan a pile of cash to a friend of yours or anything, are you? That doesn’t sound like you. Are we invading this person’s privacy for a reason?”
“I don’t know if you can invade the privacy of the dead,” Ray Dean said. “And the last thing I’d want is for the bank to loan this guy any money. Although, Lord, I’d give something to be a fly on the wall if my father and this man ever met. You know who Drew Harrigan is?”
“Of course I know who he is. He’s a buffoon.”
“He may be a buffoon, but he’s a very influential buffoon, and at the moment he’s dead. Murdered, according to the Philadelphia Police.”
“I did hear that he was dead. Are you saying you’re a suspect in his murder?”
“I suppose half of Philadelphia is a suspect in his murder,” Ray Dean said. “Maybe half the country. I think I can honestly say that Drew Harrigan gave five new people reasons to kill him every time he opened his mouth on the air, and he was on the air four hours a day six days a week for years. I want to know who was bankrolling him.”
“You just said he was on the air four hours a day six days a week. He was a popular radio host. Maybe he didn’t need anybody bankrolling him.”
“He might not need them now, but he would have in the beginning,” Ray Dean said. “I’ve been looking into it. His whole shtick depends on research, on knowing things that nobody else knows. And in order to do that, he’s got to develop sources, he’s got to have equipment, he’s got to have money, and he didn’t have it when he started. I want to know who’s bankrolling him. And don’t tell me maybe somebody started off doing it and isn’t now, because you know that’s not how those people work. Scaife. Olin. Whoever it was, they like to get control and keep it.”
“It wouldn’t be Olin,” Cameron said. “And I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be Scaife, although he provides the money for a lot of this kind of thing. Why do you want to know who was bankrolling him? Do you think his backers killed him?”
“No. I think his drug supplier killed him, but there may be more of a connection there than you’d think. That’s not it, though. It’s just that it’s been bugging me. My guy is still missing. As far as I know, it’s still safest to assume he’s dead.”
“Your guy?”
“Sherman Markey. The homeless man Drew Harrigan—”
“Never mind,” Cameron said. “I remember. You think that if you find out who was bankrolling him, you’ll find your homeless guy?”
“No, I think I’ll find out what the point was,” Ray Dean said. “I made a list of Harrigan’s targets last night. A couple of professors at Penn, one of them being Jig Tyler.”
“The man is a Stalinist asshole,” Cameron said.
“I’m not disagreeing. But, look, there are those two. Jig Tyler for being a Stalinist asshole, as you put it. The other, a woman, for being a ‘lunatic feminist.’ Then there’s two Democratic congressmen, one from Massachusetts, one from Oregon. The one from Massachusetts is in favor of same-sex marriage. The one from Oregon is in favor of assisted suicide. Then there’s a Democratic senator from Illinois and the problem there seems to be that the guy is in favor of some provision in some trade act that is opposed to the spirit of NAFTA, or something. I couldn’t figure that one out, and I’ll bet most of his listeners couldn’t, either. It doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing coherent about it. There’s no point.”
“What makes you think there’s going to be a point?”
“There always is a point,” Ray Dean said, “and you know it. I want to know what the point is. I want to know who was backing him. I want to follow the money. Could you do that for me?”
“Sure,” Cameron said. “It’ll take a couple of days, maybe. Or maybe not. It depends on how secretive they’re being, and how good they are at keeping secrets.”
“If it was us, would you tell me?”
“No.”
“Is it us?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Cameron said. “You know how your father feels about people like Drew Harrigan. Or Reagan Democrats in general. Or the guys in the pickup trucks with the Confederate flags, as Mr. Howard Dean put it.”
“My father never let his personal feelings get in the way of business. I don’t think he’s starting now.”