"What? Do you think I'm stupid?" Willey smirked at me.
When we got back Sofie gave us a key to the house so we could come and go during the night. I was a little tired and decide to take a nap before I had to stay up all night.
At 1: am Willey shook me awake. "Let's go, we have to get to Frank's before the boat gets there." I sat on the edge of the bed rubbing my eyes.
"Come on, Barney. Move it. We don't have time to for you to diddle around." I pulled my pants on over my pajama bottom, stuck my feet into my shoes, no socks, and staggered, half asleep, into the living room. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and we went out the door and locked it behind us. When we got to Jack's I pulled the Wrangler off the road into the bushes. We sat in the Wrangler and watched the employees leave. About 2: am the pontoon boat made its last trip to shore and was tied up. The old guy who operated the pontoon was the last employee to leave. The parking lot was finally empty. We waited another half-hour just to be safe, then I grabbed my camera and we made our way to the service road that went to the back of the island. As I walked I noticed the drawstring on my pajamas had come loose and my pajama bottom had fallen down around my legs. It made it difficult to walk. I shouldn't have let Willey rush me.
Willey unlocked the service road gate. We slipped inside and Willey re-locked it. We made our way to the back door of the restaurant. Willey unlocked that door, too. We went inside and re-locked that door. It was dark in there. We took out our penlights and looked around. We were in a storeroom full of canned goods. There were ship ladder stairs going up to the cupola. Willey went first, I followed. It was hard for me to climb the stairs because the pajama bottom was restricting my legs. If I stopped to pull up my pajamas Willey would have a laughing fit--the idiot. It was his fault for rushing me.
There was no door on the cupola. I would have felt safer if it had a door we could lock. The cupola was about eight feet square. The floor was bare wood and there was a large window in each of the four sides. We were high enough that we could see the Intracoastal and the barrier islands beyond. The night sky was a few shades lighter than the trees on the islands, but we wouldn't be able to see a boat coming if it was running without lights. Willey and I went back down the stairs, and we each carried up a case of canned goods to sit on. I let Willey go first. I didn't want him snickering at me trying to go up and down the stairs.
"What if they don't show up tonight?" I asked, as we settled in.
"Then we'll just have to do it again tomorrow night and the night after that, until they show up." We sat on the Gulf side so we could watch the water.
"Do you think they'll run without lights?" I asked Willey.
"I'm positive they'll run without lights, they're smugglers. They'll come into the Intracoastal and use the spotlights on this building to guide them." I looked out over the water. I couldn't see a thing. But maybe Willey's eyes were better than mine. We sat quietly and stared into the darkness. I looked at the luminous dial of my watch. It was 3: am My eyes were getting heavy and every once in a while I would slip off into sleep, only to be snapped awake again with the feeling I was tumbling over backwards.
"We forgot the coffee," I said.
"I know," Willey said.
We sat and watched, and waited, until 4:30, when the sky was just turning a shade lighter. I was thinking we'd be leaving soon when Willey said, "Look, over there to the left." I didn't see anything.
"It's a little glimmer of light from the spotlights here reflecting off something out there. It's moving this way, this could be it." I was wide awake then. After awhile I found the light Willey was talking about--and yes, it was moving toward us. It was a boat running without lights. The only time a boat runs without lights at night is when the people on board are up to no good.
"Now I see it," I said, and picked up my camera.
"Be careful with that," Willey said.
"Don't worry, I'll be careful."
"Good. Because if they find out we're up here there'll be no escape." That woke me up completely. We watched in silence as the cabin cruiser came closer. It was about a forty footer and it ran quietly. It eased up against the dock and we heard its engines reverse as it came to a stop. In the light from the restaurant we saw a figure dressed all in black jump from the boat to the dock and tie the boat off. Another figure dressed in black came out onto the deck, followed by a half-dozen people. Those half-dozen looked small and slim. They were women, rather young by the graceful way they moved. They were wearing brightly colored dresses.
A gang plank was laid down from the boat to the dock. They crossed the gang plank and started walking toward us. As they came closer Willey said, "They're young girls, Barney. Asian girls." As they came closer I saw that he was right. I aimed my camera at the girls and started shooting. The flood lights on the restaurant provided plenty of light. The camera whirred as I took one shot after another of the girls and the two men with them.
"It's slavery," I said. "They offer to smuggle them into this country and the girls are indentured for a year or two, to men who buy them. They're sold to rich men for a one or two year contract. The rich men pay well for the girls. After their time is up the girls are supposed to be set free, but I wouldn't bet on it. I hope those girls know what they're doing."
As they passed under our window and headed for the access road, we switched windows and saw a white van parked outside the gate waiting to pick them up. When I looked back for the boat all I saw was the stern silently disappearing into the darkness. The whole operation had taken less than five minutes. One of the men opened the gate and helped load the girls unto the van. Within seconds the van was moving out to the main road. It was a smooth operation.
"Let's go," Willey said, and he grabbed his case of canned peas. I put the camera strap over my shoulder and picked up my case of canned corn. We put the cases back where we found them and went out the back door. Willey locked the door. We rushed to the rear gate, but I couldn’t keep up.
"Come on, Barney. Move it." Willey unlocked the gate and re-locked it after we went through. We scurried back to the main road. I lagged behind.
"What's the matter with you?" Willey stage whispered. "We have to catch up with the van before we lose them."
"I can't run any faster, my pajamas came loose and fell down around my legs." Willey got behind me, grabbed the back of my pants, and gave me a world class wedgie. I yelped, but I could walk better. We finally reached the Wrangler, and seconds later we were racing to catch up with them.
"I think I see their tail lights," I said. When the tail lights made a right turn under a street light we saw it was the van full of girls.
"I think they're going to head south," Willey said. "They'll be going to one of the richer places, like Naples, or across the Everglades to Miami or Palm Beach." We stayed far back, and almost lost them a couple of times. We followed them down 19 South, then they turned left on 60 East across the Courtney Campbell Causeway, then south toward the waterfront mansions on Tampa bay. Finally, just as the sun was starting to rise, the van pulled into the gated driveway of a large, Spanish style water front mansion. It wasn't Miami, but it wasn't chopped liver, either. I pulled over to the side of the road and doused the Wrangler's lights. We gave them time to get the girls into the house. Then we drove by the gate and got the street number, 967.
"What's the name of the street?" I asked.
"Just keep going, we'll find it." We watched the mail boxes as we drove by.
"There it is," I said. "Sea Spray Drive. 967 Sea Spray Drive. They must put the girls up there and take them to their separate destinations the next day. Willey took out a notebook and jotted the address down.
We turned around then and headed back to Tarpon Springs. We had finally done a job right, with no complications--except for my pajama problem. It felt good, and so would the money.
I said, "Do you realize that this is the first job we've done for Eduardo that hasn't been about Flaherty? And it went smoothly. Not a hitch."
Willey said, "Except that your pants fell down and you were running like an old lady."
"That wasn't my fault," I said. "You rushed me." When we got back to Sofie's she was asleep in a recliner. She had been waiting up for us. When she heard us come in she woke up and asked us if we were alright. We told her everything went well and sent her off to bed. Willey and I headed for our own beds. I took my pants off and sat on the bed. I spent a full minute looking for my pajama bottom. Finally I realized I had them on. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next day Eduardo called around noon. He must have realized we would sleep late. Willey told him what we saw the night before. Eduardo was amazed when Willey told him they were smuggling young Asian girls. We gave him the address of the mansion and a description of the van. We couldn't get close enough to get the license plate, but we would overnight the negatives from the shots I had taken of the people on the boat.
Then Willey said, "Here, tell Barney," and handed the phone to me.
"Barney," Eduardo said. "We have Mister Snydely here. We're going to work with the Attorney General to hammer out a deal for him to testify in return for immunity. As far as we can determine he hasn't killed anybody. He just helped Flaherty to pull some shady deals and pass bribes on to Senator Buckland and others. But there's a problem," Eduardo said. "Snydely was the subject of a drive-by shooting last night. He says Flaherty is trying to kill him. He wasn't hurt but we have to keep him safe until he's called to Miami to give a deposition. We're transporting him to a safe house in Palm Harbor. I was going to send him to my Yaya's house, but Snydely turned green when I suggested it. It seems she scared the hell out of him.
"The only problem is we don't have a free agent to baby-sit him until he's called for the deposition. Can you and Willey take the job? It pays the same, four hundred each, plus expenses."
"Hold on a second, Eduardo, while I check with Willey."
I told Willey what Eduardo had for us "What do you think, Willey? Do you want to do it?" Willey nodded. "Okay, Eduardo," I said. "We're in. Give us directions to the place in Palm Harbor and when you want us there." Eduardo gave me directions and when we had to be there and Willey wrote it all down.
Then Eduardo said, "Be careful, there's an arsonist in the area of Palm Harbor. He blew up a warehouse and killed four people. But we think it was a mob hit, because the four guys that were killed were known criminals. So he probably won't hit again."
"Thanks for the tip," I said. "We'll be careful." Then I passed the phone to Sofie. Sofie talked to Eduaerdo for a while before she disconnected.
"Sit down and I'll make you some breakfast," Sofie said. "And keep the gun I gave you last night, Willey. Eduardo said you might need it." That sort of took the edge off my appetite, but I managed to eat heartily anyway. I figured we'd be living on take-out for a while.
Sofie said, "I have to visit my niece in Fort Meyers on Wednesday. She just had a baby and I'll be gone all day. Can you boys take Oscar along with you?"
"Sure," Willey said. "Oscar won't be any trouble."
Snydely was sitting in the passenger seat of a black Ford sedan. The agent behind the wheel didn't look old enough to drive. The house was a small stucco cottage. We were home. We got out, Oscar included, and introduced ourselves to the agent, but we couldn't take our eyes off Snydely. This was not the Snydely we knew and hated. This was a man on the run, afraid for his life. He had the furtive eyes of the hunted. After the agent left we unloaded our stuff from the Wrangler and brought it into the house. Snydely and I took the bedroom with two single beds. Willey had the smaller room next to us, and Oscar was to sleep on the couch. Eventually we all ended up sitting around the kitchen table.
"So tell us," Willey said. "What happened to you?"
"They tried to gun me down on the street, and they almost got me," he said. "If I hadn't jumped behind a car I'd be dead."
"Did they find out you've been talking to the Feds?" I asked.
"They must have. Maybe Buckland has a mole in the FBI that tells him what goes on. In any case, I'm a dead man."
"Not so fast," Willey said. "You've got us here to protect you." Snydely gave Willey a blank stare. Clearly he was not impressed with his security arrangements.
"Snydely," I said. "The car that tried to gun you down, was it a big black car with tinted windows?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
I said, "That sounds like the same car that ran the bookkeeper down, and tried to run me down, too." Snydley was getting pale. I decided to drop the subject.
Willey said, "Barney, you didn't tell me you almost got run down."
"I didn't tell you because I knew you would over react."
"I never over react," Willey said.
"You always over react."
Later, I went out for pizza and we ate on our small front porch. I was reading a copy of the Tampa Sun that I had picked up at a nearby variety store. There was a picture of Flaherty and his wife.
"Listen to this," I said to Willey and Snydely. "Flaherty is throwing a big fundraiser at his house for some charity."
"Yeah, Snydely said. "He does that every year. His wife is quite the social climber. Their pictures are always in the newspapers for attending some event for charity. If you didn't know them you'd think they were good people. If I could get in that house I'd go straight for Flaherty's real set of books. Then his next event would be in jail."
"You mean he keeps two sets of books?" I asked.
"Of course he does. If those books got into the wrong hands Flaherty would be doing fifteen to twenty."
"Have you ever seen the books, Snydely?" Willey asked.
Snydely said, "A few years back Flaherty couldn't open the wall safe he keeps them in. He sent me to his house to let the technician in. The technician drilled out the old dial and put a new one in. The technician gave the new combination to me. After he left I opened the safe and found a small flash drive. I took it downstairs, plugged it into a computer, and there they were, the real books. He even mentioned Buckman's bribes by name and amount."
"Do you still have the combination to the safe?" Willey asked.
"Yes," Snydely said. "I keep it in my wallet."
Willey said, "You know, Snydely, if we could slip into that party and get those books into the right hands you'd be a free man again. No more looking over your shoulder wondering if there's somebody following you. And me and Barney could go back to our houses."
Snydeley's eyes widened. "They'll be hundreds of people there. There's no way you could get into that party without being recognized. It's impossible."
"I'll bet they have lots of wait staff at those parties," Willey said. "You know, people who walk around with trays full of drinks and those scallops baked with slices of bacon wrapped around them. I love those things."
"Wait a minute, Willey, ' I said. "Have you forgotten that they've seen us? They know what we look like. They'd grab you as soon as you walked in. You could never pass yourself off as the hired help."
Willey sat up straighter in his chair. "I'm willing to bet I could walk around that party unrecognized," he said. "All I'd have to do is trim my hair and beard, and dye them both brown. They wouldn't recognize me in a hundred years."
"How about me?" I asked. "I don't have a beard to trim and I don't have much hair. How could I disguise myself?"
"Barney," Willey said. "You don't need a disguise. You look like every old Irishman in the world, white hair, pudgy face, dumb expression. You're almost invisible."
"How nice of you to say so."
"Don't mention it."
Then Willey asked Snydely, "What do the wait staff wear?"
"They wear black pants, white shirt, and a black bowtie."
"And where do the catering trucks park with the food?"
"They park at the rear of the house near the kitchen."
Willey said, "In the catering business the staff changes constantly. People are always quitting and they have to replace them. T
hose people are all strangers to each other. Nobody would question us."
Willey went on questioning Snydely. "Where is the wall safe?"
"In the second floor bedroom above the kitchen at the back of the house."
"Where in the bedroom is the safe located?"
"Behind a portrait of Misses Flaherty."
Willey said, "All we'd have to do is mingle with the staff as they get out of the truck. What does the surrounding area look like, Snydely? Are the houses close. Are they walled in? Are they gated?"
"Yes, yes, and yes," Snydely said."The only side that's not walled is the rear, where it's open to the water."
"Perfect," Willey said. "It's on the water. Where is this house, anyway.?"
"It's on Sunset Island," Snydely said. "You have to cross the causeway to get to it--unless you come by boat."
Willey asked, "Is that one of those causeways where you can pull off to the side of the road and sit on the sand in lawn chairs?"
""Yes, you see a lot of that," Snydely said. "Why?"
Willey said, "We could blow up the rubber raft on the side of the causeway the night of the party and launch it right there."
"We left the raft back in the swamp," I said.
"So well go get it." Willey was warming up to his crazy plan. "After dark we'll set ashore in the shadows at Flaherty's place. We'll wait until there's only a few of the waiters around the catering truck and then we'll walk right up and take trays, and head inside the house. Once we're inside we'll find our way to the bedroom, open the safe, and grab the flash drive. Once we get the flash drive we'll wander off like we're going for a smoke.
We'll disappear into the shadows again and head for the raft. We could probably be in and out within twenty minutes. What do you think, Barney?"
"I think you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to be any part of that idiotic scheme."
Willey ignored me. "Snydely, you and Oscar could wait in the raft to make sure nobody messes with it."
Snydely said, "I'm not going along with that. That's a very risky proposition."
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