The Partner by John Grisham
They found him living in a shaded brick house on Rua Tiradentes, a wide avenue with trees down
the center and barefoot boys dribbling soccer balls along the hot pavement. They found him alone, as best they could tell, though a maid came and went at odd hours during the eight days they hid and watched. They found him living a comfortable life but certainly not one of luxury. The house was modest and could've been owned by any local merchant. The car was a 1983 Volkswagen Beetle, manufactured in Sao Paulo with a million others. It was red and clean, polished to a shine. Their first photo of him was snapped as he waxed it just inside the gate to his short driveway. They found him much thinner, down considerably from the two hundred and thirty pounds he'd been carrying when last seen. His hair and skin were darker, his chin had been squared, and his nose had been slightly pointed. Subtle changes to the face. They'd paid a steep bribe to the surgeon in Rio who'd performed the alterations two and a half years earlier.