Danny and Sean sit, stunned and following orders for what seems a millennium. Not moving. Not saying a word. Not even a whisper to one another. Then after several moments the barkeep returns and shouts, "Hey, you louts are goin' to have 'ta leave. Me ole' lady will have a chunk of me arse ... What in the name of ... Oh, Jesus, Joseph and Mary, what happened here? Did ya have to kill these two Neanderthals?"
"No, dear Jesus, no. Two men just snuck up behind us and shot 'em both dead as doornails."
"Oh, Jesus, Danny me lad. Oh, Mother of God. Saints be with ... what the Hades is ..."
Danny is on his feet, in the barkeep's face. "Listen, Donohue. Call the police. AND, we weren't here. NOT HERE. You were in the back closing and came out and found this. Understand? Do it. I tell you on my dear father's grave, and on my mum's heart, all we know is that we were here talking to the Muldoons when two men came in, shot these two, and told us to stay put or we'd be dead." Sean is now beside his brother. The complexion of their faces and the vacuity of their eyes explain the veracity of their words. "These two men were not Irishmen. Nor Brits. All you need to say is that you were in back cleaning up, didn't hear or see a thing, and came out and found this. Agreed? WE weren't here. So don't fook-up and mention how many, or that they didn't have accents. You didn't see anything but these two drinkin' late again."
"Agreed, lads. I know what's happenin' and I'm not part of the movement, and I have family. So, go and don't be seen. I'll make the call. And then someday soon, when the sun is rising bright, it might be well for all ye to move on. Londonderry may not be for you and yours. Go!"
Danny and Sean Shanahan leave quickly, out the back, down the alley and on their way to their Mum's cottage.
Donohue removes the lad's mugs, washes them clean, and rings the local constable's office.
Then he waits for all hell to break loose he supposes. And with the constables and others, possibly a Saint will come as well and calm my soul for saving another's.
When Hunter is done briefing Marnee in detail of the villa and their plan for tomorrow morning, afternoon, and night, he shoves his chair back from the small table in his room. Asks, "Any final questions? Any?" He pauses, "Or suggestions? Anything?"
"No, I've got it. I am ready. I did check my room for messages."
"Yeah? And?"
"Only one. My two friends are coming to visit me the day after tomorrow. Late morning."
"Well, we should be done and gone, if our luck holds. Do you need, or should you leave them a message? Tell them something? Anything?"
"Luck holds?" Her eyebrows raise, "Luck?"
Hunter smiles, "Yeah, luck is when opportunity and preparation meet. Pisces is comin' and we're prepared." He pauses, then asks, "What about the other plan, or thoughts, or dreams? Or were they just wild midnight slashes at my heart?"
"Well, if we live through all this, then on our way to Capri or wherever, I plan on finding out exactly where the two of us are in our midnight scramble. But, just so you know. So you understand. I am serious. I want to live ... a life, and I believe I found a person of the same ilk. So, no, not wild slashes, but to be more precise like the proverb says, 'I see with my heart on this'. "
"Good. Me too, dagummit. Now, we get some sleep. Rest. We've got a long day tomorrow, and after for me I hope a long life of lemons and such."
He moves around the small table and pulls Marnee's chair out. She stands and cants her head to one side. Hunter leans forward and kisses her ear, nips her lobe, then runs his tongue down her neck to her shoulder, leaning into her.
She squirms, wiggles. Warms, in fact her internal thermostat rises quickly, and she begins to get wet and sticky. Marnee turns around, and they kiss, long, wet and hungrily.
Hunter releases her and says, "Damn. Whew!" shakes his head. "Ahhh, well, I suppose the plan is right. Let's get some sleep. I'll meet you for an early breakfast, O-dark-thirty."
"This is not fair." She sighs, "At least one more before I go."
They do, and release.
The night ends, perhaps too soon but then, perhaps life begins.
The constable arrives, and not far behind is the British military. Then the entourage of investigators, and of course a coroner. Donohue sticks steadfastly to his story. The weapons are found and will be given the normal ballistic tests and of course the authorities will also find no serial numbers. Gone, filed off. And no prints. Nothing. Along with no witnesses. Just a closed pub; the utterly "ded as a dorenail" Muldoons, as the Old Irish would say; and Donohue's unshakeable story. The knowledge of who the Muldoons were and what they were about leaves no end of possibilities. Except for the PIRA, it is basically a good end for bad rubbish, and perhaps for them as well. Or by them, or somebody.
On the way, Sean tells Danny to go ahead. "I'm goin' to see Mary Kate. See if she'll have me, and if so, we'll be comin' right behind ya."
"Okay, but don't dally and don't say a word other than we just got back, and she was the first person you wanted to see."
"I hear ya."
"Good, go on your way and you can give her that kiss you've been trying to smack on me." Danny turns for home with long strides, hurrying through the dark hearing his and Sean's hearty chuckle.
Within minutes Sean is at Mary Kate's door tapping lightly but continually because of the hour, and because of the time it takes for a light to come on. Her uncle answers the door and greets Sean like a long lost son, and asks, "What do ya want at this hour as if I didn't know."
"I just got back and I need to see Mary Kate, sir. Tis urgent."
From the top of the inside flight of steps, Mary Kate shouts, "Let 'em in, and you get up here as quick as you can, Sean. Hurry now."
The uncle groggily smiles and nods, still not fully awake, nor sober. Sean brushes by him and takes the steps two at a time reaching Mary Kate who is standing at the top. Her arms outstretched in a worn, lightweight robe, open in the front, with only a short nightie beneath. Her nipples attentive already and a wet warmth is forming between her legs.
They fall into one another's arms, and immediately indulge in a homecoming kiss fitting of a knight returning to the princess. The groping and the kiss restlessly continue as her uncle brushes past grunting an approval and disappears into his room.
After several kisses and gentle, hungry clutching, Sean tenderly holds Mary Kate by her shoulders and says, "Mary Kate, I love ya. And I want to marry ya now. No waitin'. And I want for us to get away from here and live. I mean live. Not day to day, but forever. Will ya marry me?"
She shrugs off his hands and throws her arms around Sean's neck, and kisses him in a manner that leaves no doubt as to the answer. When pulling away slowly, she says, "I will indeed marry you, Sean Shanahan. And now will be fine, but I'm guessing we'll have a problem finding a priest at this hour. But, we'll do it as the sun rises, and if no one will marry us, we'll do it ourselves. And Sean darlin', we're goin' to consummate this day one way or the other before the sun gets too high in this Irish sky or me thighs will be stickin' together like a mussel."
Sean kisses her again with anticipation, and whispers, "Shouldn't I ask your uncle for permission? Again? Did I? Or something?"
"We'll be tellin' 'em, not asking, and then be off with ourselves to skip stones on the river once more and be makin' wild music and love together." She drags him by the arm toward her uncle's room.
As Hunter and Marnee walk along the dock, he says, "I've hired a crew of three for some of this venture. And, if and when necessary, I can handle her alone. I may retain them for a time, or at least one, the old crew chief. Perhaps a long time."
"Good. Now, what about breakfast, and the plan for the day? You've obviously changed it already."
"No change. Just didn't tell you one or two details. The crew is one detail and the other is we're going to have breakfast on board. On the after-deck like the rich folks do. And watch for Pisces to enter the harbor this morning, and he will. In fact, our slip will have us in position not only to see it, but
up close and personal."
Marnee says, "How close and personal?"
Hunter pulls her to a stop. Says, "This is my, our, boat. The Marnie," pointing to the name on the stern, then upward to the entire craft.
She gasps, "My God. Oh, Hunter, it's so big. It's huge."
He laughs. "I hope you'll be sayin' that again."
She shoves him hard, practically off the edge of the dock. "Naughty." Then she says with a much more serious tone, "But, you've spelled my name erroneously, or someone painted it incorrectly."
He breaks into laughter. Hard enough for tears to form in his eyes. After he chokes to a halt he says, "No, it's a Marine joke, and I'll tell you about it over breakfast. But, I didn't know you when I got the boat and named it, but now it's all the more apropos."
"And the remainder of my question?"
Pointing to the next slip, he says, "This is Pisces' slip. He'll pull in right next to us. We'll see him and what he's hauling. And he won't know us from Adam and Eve."
Marnee accentuating her movement, touches her rib and says, "We are a lot alike." She chuckles and grabs Hunter's shirt at his rib cage and pulls him close and gives him a peck on the lips.
A crewman shouts in Italian from the flying bridge, "Coming on board, Skipper?"
They look up, release one another. Hunter nods, shouts, "Aye."
She murmurs, "Later."
They climb on board.
Marnee and Hunter finish eating their breakfast and pretend to relax and enjoy a morning coffee as they watch the Sorridenta approach. As it nears and turns its bow out, away from the slip, Hunter waves to the skipper. He waves back. Pisces is on the bridge, staring at Hunter for a moment, then returns to watching the business of backing his boat into the slip making it much easier to offload and a lesser distance to carry whatever they bring ashore.
Marnee says, "There are two women up on the bridge with him."
Hunter nods, "Yeah, see him. And the crewmen there on the after deck. But, here comes the young man from the villa to assist. And another. A much older guy and it's not Rocco."
"Have you seen him before?"
"No. You?"
"No, but then I haven't seen anyone around Rocco live exceedingly long."
"Got a point. Have to find out who this rascal is. The boy works on the cars, drives occasionally running errands, and helps maintain the property. And he's the one that's been making the nightly rounds at the villa. That won't last long."
As the Sorridenta gurgles to a stop, crewmen leap to the dock and tie her down, starting with the stern lines. As they do, Marnee nonchalantly waves a greeting to the two women leaving the bridge. Then she and Hunter continue their pretense of self-interest. Hunter smiles, gives Marnee a peck on the lips. She clasps one of his free hands as they gaze at each other and chat. None of this takes too much play-acting.
With the Sorridenta tied up, Marnee and Hunter watch as Pisces directs the young man and his elder as to what needs to be done regarding the luggage. He calls the man Benito when giving directions. As the ladies come to the afterdeck to debark, both give Benito a hug and huge smiles and talk with him for a few moments. He excuses himself, gives some directions to the boy as Pisces and the ladies debark and head down the dock toward the office and parking area. Pisces gives no more notice of his slip mates. That attitude is not being returned in kind however.
Hunter whispers, "I take it the older guy is with the ladies. I'm guessin' he works for the one that Pisces has his arm around now."
"I think you are correct. I wonder who the other one is? She doesn't look, dress or act like a domestic."
"Well, my deprived Marine mind tells me it's a threesome, or possibly he brought a concubine for Rocco. That would be a helluva gift."
Marnee gives him a playful slap on the back of his hand, "Hey, you are giving that woman more of a look than I appreciate. And is that your 'M-a-r-i-n-e' mind, or your 'M-a-r-n-i-e' mind?"
"The former, and neither of those gals are in your class. Not even close. Now that they're close to being out of here, let's get to the bridge and get a better look-see at the parking lot." They get up and hasten to the bridge.
By the time Hunter and Marnee get to the flying bridge's starboard rail the boy and Benito have finished loading the Black Mercedes 280 sedan, not only from the boat, but also additional bags and boxes from the smaller '71 white Mercedes 280 SL Roadster. There are some more hugs. Longer ones, and then Benito gets into the white car and drives away, toward the highway, not town.
Hunter mumbles, "He's leavin' town. Good. Helleva lookin' car. Like my Vette better."
Marnee snuggles close, whispers, "I'll take the 280 SL, but let's get our minds back on business."
"Really. Yeah, right, back to business."
As they do, the young man opens and holds the front right door for the ladies, and they squeeze into the seat. Pisces gets behind the wheel while the young man fits himself in the back seat among the surplus boxes and luggage. It's a tight fit. The Mercedes is riding low in the back.
They are off quickly, no tires screeching but no time lost, and disappear out of the lot, and head in the general direction of the villa.
Hunter turns to his crew chief, the older man and most experienced of the three, and in Italian issues some instructions for the day, and this evening. Ending with, "Have this baby with a full load of fuel, and be ready to leave anytime, but most likely this evening. The two of us are taking a trip."
The old man smiles, adds a congratulatory wink and follows with, "Yes, bossa."
Marnee adds, "We are going out and about for some fun today, and when we return we will be tired and wanting to get moving as soon as possible. I am looking forward to this cruise."
Hunter says, "That's underway, not moving," and laughs.
The crew chief says, "Yessa, ma’am. And Bossa." Smiles again.
Marnee gives Hunter a more than playful punch on the arm. Smiles, and whispers out of hearing of the crew chief, "After we get 'underway', I have high hopes to get you moving, Marnie."
"Sounds like a plan. Now, let's go below and ensure we have all the provisions we need. Everything, to include your Limoncello and that Blume Marillen Apricot Eau-De-Vie I ordered. Even though we'll be puttin' in for fuel several times, I'd sooner it only be that. Okay?"
"Let's go," urges him forward, "and take that look around."
Hunter nods, points the way below and they leave, and as they do, he adds, "We need to be ready every time now. Weapons. Everything."
At the villa, Rocco stands, frowning, his hand resting on the cradled phone in Pisces' study. Where the hell is MacBeer? What was all that stalling about and who the hell was that on the phone?
He shakes his head, carries his concerned look with him as he goes onto the veranda. The look disappears as he sees his boss is back, and a young woman is staring at him as she scrambles out of the Mercedes. Halter, no bra and exceedingly short shorts. Her smile is telling. Rocco's grin starts at the corner of his mouth, then spreads rapidly to his entire jaw. My surprise. Momma-mia! He mentally kisses his thumb and fingertips.
He hurries toward the sedan and regardless of his fascination with Estella, he heads directly toward Pisces. Business is always business, and Pisces is always first. Foremost. All else follows.
He and Pisces hug in a mafia-like greeting. Whisper some comments to each other, then Pisces, with his arm around her, introduces Rocco to Chiarina. Then with a sweeping motion of the other hand toward Estella, he makes the grand introduction.
Estella stands with both hands on her hips, head canted to one side, gazing at the big Italian. Rocco bows, then smiles wide again with his arms stretched out, palms of his hands up. Stell nods her head several times, a grin appears, and she leaps into Rocco's arms and hugs him. Clings to him for several moments, then whispers in his ear, "I like." Then pushes away, asks, "You?"
Rocco grins. "I like. Let me show you around Mister Catalano's villa." She hooks her arm through his and they tu
rn toward the house. Rocco stops suddenly, turns and says, "Bossa?"
Pisces nods, stares hard, says. "Yes. Go." Then smiles.
Chiarina clutches Pisces, head on his shoulder. He pulls her tight and whispers, "Whether this is the way it will be, will be up to you and Estella. Not him. He is expendable."
She lifts her head, half turns toward Pisces, says, "Roberto, what does that mean?"
"It means that all this," his free arm sweeping towards the villa, "is for the three of us. Any more is of our choosing. We are going to live." He pauses and louder exclaims, "Live!"
CHAPTER 30
"Squeeze, don't pull.
Watch, don't blink.
Move, don't wait."
A Gunslinger's rule.
Hunter and Marnee stroll past the Pisces villa. It's past noon. They pause for a moment across the street. Hunter says, "Wait 'til we walk-on, then glance up this side of the main house and you'll see a shuttered window. The only one with the shutters closed. It's an enlarged pantry of sorts off the kitchen. The shutter lock is a snap to open, and the window's lock is broken. I don't think any of the help realizes it. That's how I got in. That's our entry point tonight. Okay?"
"Yes."
"Well, take a look." Marnee gets a glance as they tramp on up the grade toward the end of a street that rivals Lombard Street in San Fran or at least Snake Alley in Burlington, Iowa. Is certainly the most crooked street in Taormina.
The two are wearing combinations of dark brown and green slacks and long sleeve shirts to blend with the terrace they are about to adopt. Each have a thin layer of neutral make-up on their faces to subdue any glare. Weapons are tucked in the rear waistbands of their slacks. Silencers already attached. Gloves jammed in pockets as are dark ski-mask covers for their heads and extra magazines for their weapons. They continue past the villa, up the hill where Hunter points out a winding path that leads to a semi-wooded portion with heavy undergrowth and rotting lemons. It's an abandoned citrus orchard. It is seventy-five yards from the Pisces villa and elevated enough so one can look down onto the villa's grounds. It looks onto the two-story side of the main house where the bedrooms are and onto the huge veranda. The patio is situated so its occupants, seated at the table, or by the pool have a view down toward the town, the beach and out to sea to the Ionian coast. No afternoon or evening sun to contend with, and in late afternoon the house itself provides a measure of comfortable shade. Or the folks can simply move to the covered segment of the veranda. Pisces in his selection and improvements has thought of everything pleasurable to include the four-person Jacuzzi and the wood-burning oven. For pizzas probably.
Ded Reckoning Page 30