Oil Change: A Nina Bannister Mystery (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 4)
Page 22
“The meeting took place,” said Liz. “And exactly where it took place we’ll never know.”
“But Holder—of all of these people, if truth be known—was and is a professional assassin.”
Liz shook her head:
“Edgar never had a chance.”
“All right, but then…”
“Then comes the beautiful part, Nina, if you want to look at it that way. Edgar, you have to understand, had been calling Holder off and on during the night. On one of these calls he might have said that he didn’t understand the readings. Might have suggested to Holder that the two of them get in touch with the brilliant professor Daruka Narang.”
“So when I called Holder…”
“He was probably shocked to get the call. But he’s not dumb. And immediately it came to him. He imitated an Indian accent…”
“…we know these people can imitate any accent…”
“…pretended to be Narang, and suggested you fly to Lafayette.”
“Why didn’t he just meet me in Bay St. Lucy?”
Liz shook her head:
“No, no, it wouldn’t have worked. You were already suspicious of anybody working for LP so you wouldn’t have given the disk to Holder himself. And a professor of Narang’s rank was probably not going to go flying off around the country to look at some phantom disk.”
“So I went to Lafayette. And met two ghosts.”
“Whom, like the fake Annette said, we’ll probably never see again.”
“And once you did that, Nina, everything fell into place for them.”
“They got the disk.”
“Which was their first priority. But once they had the disk, they had the chance to take what could have been a monstrous, disastrous, terrorist attack…and make it infinitely worse.”
“The fake Narang…”
“..or somebody, we’ll never know who.”
“Wrote a story so horrific, with such urgent overtones, that you would have to write it, and The Times would have to print it.”
“And, of course, I would write it and vouch for it, because I had the word of …”
“Me.”
“You. The solid and dependable Nina Bannister, solver of the Robinson Case and The Reddington murder.”
“The data couldn’t be false, at least in your mind, because I had gotten it directly from Aquatica’s computers.”
“So The Times printed it, and all hell broke loose.”
“Now,” Nina continued, “let me be sure I understand this. The ghost team knew, first, that the environmentalists would demonstrate all over the country, insisting that big oil rigs were inherently dangerous and should be shut down. But the ghosts also knew that engineers and scientists would descend on Aquatica…”
“…looking not for the subtle marks of plastique being somewhere hidden by cement…”
“…but for the problems,” Nina continued, “outlined in The Times story.”
“Which were fake problems to begin with.”
“So Aquatica would get a clean bill of health, in the spotlight of world attention.”
Liz nodded:
“And so Aquatica would also do something very stupid.”
“Like plan this gala.”
“Making them the most juicy terrorist target in the history of the world.”
Nina thought for a time, then said, quietly:
“It gets worse and worse, the more you think about it.”
“Yes it does, Nina, yes it does. Before, the attack was going to kill a hundred and twenty or so innocent oil workers. Innocent…”
“But anonymous.”
“Now…”
Nina nodded and said:
“Now it’s going to kill political leaders, celebrities…”
“The cream of the coast—and of the country.”
“We’re just delivering them all up for the slaughter. Not only that––”
Liz interrupted:
“Not only that, but I’m just beginning to realize: the explosion will be so massive that no one will be able to pinpoint plastique as its cause. And, if no terrorist group claims responsibility…”
“Which none probably will…”
“The whole disaster,” said Liz, “ the destruction of all these lives plus the entire ecosystem of the gulf coast, will go down simply as a horrible affirmation that The Times story was right.”
“No oil rig will ever be trusted again.”
Liz:
“Because this is the safest one ever built.”
Nina:
“And it turned out to be nothing but one huge floating hydrogen bomb.”
“Our oil industry will be destroyed.”
“My God,” Nina whispered.
It seemed the only reasonable thing to say.
They parked as near the terminal as was possible, given the chaos that was going on around them. It was only six o’clock, but transport helicopters, some belonging to the Aquatica fleet, some privately owned, were hovering everywhere, ready to take formally-dressed guests out to the rig.
“What is our plan?” asked Nina, slamming the door and squinting into the late afternoon sunlight.
“We tell them we’re invited out to Aquatica for the party. I think I can make them believe that.”
“It’s true.”
“Well, that puts me at a disadvantage. But I’ll have to chance it.”
“Then?”
“Then we find the drill master, who, I guess, is the head man out there.”
“His name is Phil Bennington. I’ve met him twice; he’s a nice guy.”
“Okay, we somehow get to him.”
“All right.”
“Then we just tell him the truth. His second in command is a highly paid operative, a kind of ruthless international spy, working for some terrorist organization. This man and a group of a several others, having deceived the Aquatica security measures, have secreted a certain amount of plastic explosives in the vessel’s well linings, and they plan to blow up the entire rig in approximately two hours.”
“And how do we know this?”
“A strange woman just came by and told us. Then she disappeared.”
“So that’s our plan?”
“That’s our plan.”
“And you think they’re going to believe us?”
Liz shook her head.
They were approaching the terminal.
“They would have believed us.”
“Back when we had credibility, you mean.”
“Yeah, then.”
“Well, we don’t have any credibility now, Liz. We have absolutely no credibility.”
Liz stopped and glared at her, almost shouting:
“And so what? So damned what? Do you have a better plan? This is an utterly fantastic story! We’ve already told one utterly fantastic story and been revealed as complete idiots. So now we’re going to come at them with another story, even more absurd? Nina, no one out on Aquatica is going to believe us; but no one here is either. No one anywhere is…”
“Until the damned thing,” Nina said quietly, “blows up.”
Liz nodded:
“And then it will be a little late, won’t it? So if my plan seems a little rough around the edges, I’m sorry. But unless you have something better…”
“No, I don’t.”
They were both quiet for a time.
Then Nina said, almost whispering:
“If you want to dance with the girls at the county fair, you must first go to the country fair.”
Liz stared at her:
“What?”
“If you want…”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. What is that, something you people say in the South?”
‘I don’t know. I just…”
Liz shook her head in disgust and walked on, saying:
“Maybe I don’t want to live here after all. County fair indeed.”
They walked into the terminal.
One of the gates was being
used as a boarding area for Aquatica passengers.
“All right,” said Liz as they approached the smiling young man seated at the desk. “One thing we know. One thing we can depend on. We have been invited to this thing. They will take us out there. What we do when we get there is anybody’s guess. But county fair or not, kiss the girls or whatever, they will take us out there, that much we know.”
Liz stepped up to the counter:
“I’m Liz Cohen and this is Nina Bannister. We want to be taken out to Aquatica. We’re on the guest list for tonight.”
The young man looked over a list that sat on the desk in front of him:
“I…I…ah, here you are. I’m sorry, but you’re slated to go on the seven o’clock helicopter.”
“We’re what?”
“You’re booked on the seven o’clock helicopter. Were you not informed of that?”
“No, we…Nina?”
“Yes?”
“I haven’t been reachable for a few days. Did you…”
The man behind the desk smiled:
“The flight schedule was mailed to you two days ago, ma’am.”
“Nina?”
Nina could feel herself blushing.
“I’ve been throwing away all my mail for the last week or so.”
Liz stared at her.
“Great.”
“I’m sorry.”
Then Liz turned back to the counter attendant.
“Listen, we’ve got to get out there.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the rules are very strict. So many people are going. We can’t just do first come, first serve. And space on the copter is limited. And by the way, ladies…”
He looked at them, and seemed embarrassed:
“You do realize that formal dress is required for the occasion.”
“Formal…”
Liz was, Nina could tell, losing her temper.
‘“The occasion,’ you jerk, “is going to be a great deal different than you imagine it—or any damned body imagines it, if you don’t get us on one of those helicopters!”
“I’m sorry but…”
“WE’VE GOT TO GET OUT THERE, DAMMIT! THE WHOLE THING IS GOING TO EXPLODE. YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO US.”
The young man was, in fact, listening, as were most of the people who were waiting to board, and most of all the other people in the airport.
Liz took a deep breath then, and said:
“I’m sorry.”
“That was perhaps,” Nina whispered, “ill-timed.”
“Yeah,” replied Liz, “yeah, sometimes I lose my temper a little.”
The young man was making a telephone call.
“I’ll have someone from security come,” he said, quietly.
Someone from security came.
He was, in fact, a Mississippi State Trooper.
This, thought Nina, is not good.
“What seems to be the problem?” growled the huge man in the Smokey the Bear hat.
The boy behind the desk answered:
“These ladies feel there is to be an explosion out at Aquatica.”
“A what?”
“An explosion.”
And from that, simply all hell broke loose, with more and more policemen showing up, and Liz getting madder and madder, and finally calls to LP headquarters being made, and more finally still—in about twenty minutes—a limousine pulling up to the terminal and one of the LP lawyers whom Nina had seen at her first LP meeting one week ago, got out.
He entered the terminal, stared hard at Nina and Liz, and almost shouted:
“You two!”
And that was not good either.
“What in hell are the two of you trying to pull here?”
“I know,” said Liz, “that…”
“Haven’t the two of you caused enough trouble already? Everybody involved in this mess has been more than gracious to you! I and several other colleagues had insisted that you both be brought up for criminal charges! We were voted down, and you were shown every possible courtesy, even up to being invited out to the rig tonight. And now you show up here like this? With another wild story? Do you think this is funny? Is this your way of making a name for yourselves? Are you just trying to create scandals at everyone else’s expense? Do you know how damaging these ridiculous accusations can be?”
“Listen,” Liz insisted, “if you’ll just let us…”
She was interrupted by the attorney, who said to the nearest state policeman:
“Will you please escort these women back to wherever it is they came from?”
‘Yes, Sir.”
Then, to both of them:
“If you ever have anything to do with this corporation again––either of you—I will have you jailed, and believe me, I can do it.”
He turned and left.
The two women were then summarily escorted out to Liz’s rental car.
They were escorted back to Nina’s shack.
Once there, they were left in the front seat of the car while their cortege of police escort vehicles pulled away.
Liz was silent.
“Okay,” said Nina. “We tried your plan. Now we’ll try mine. I have a way to get us out to Aquatica. Maybe the only way. And once there—I’ll find our tool man for us. Now come on.”
She led the way to her Vespa.
It was a strange phenomenon, but things were coming together for Nina Bannister. This mistake, that bit of incongruity—it was all beginning to make sense.
She felt a strange kind of confidence as she puttered through Bay St. Lucy that she had not felt before, since Edgar’s death.
And the first thing she knew, was that the two of them, she and Liz, had a stop to make before going back to Aquatica.
They made the stop.
And within two minutes of that stop she was talking to Hector Ramirez in the front yard of the Ramirez home.
“My brother is gone,” he said, the sad almond eyes reflecting the darkness that was creeping over the city. “My brother is gone, and they are having a big party.”
“I know, Hector.”
“They believe he was selling drugs.”
“Some of them believe that.”
“It is not true.”
“I know it isn’t.”
“You go out there tonight? Everybody drink champagne?”
“I go out there. I go out there right now. But no, Hector. No champagne for me.”
He looked at her.
“Why do you go?”
“I think I know something, Hector.”
“About Edgar?”
“Yes.”
“About what happened to him?”
“Yes. But Hector, I need your help.”
“Of course I help.”
“The phone. Edgar’s phone. You remember I brought it back to you that night?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“You still have it?”
“I have. I keep in my room.”
“Excellent. And you haven’t called anybody with it, or received any calls?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then please go and get it for me.”
“Do you think…”
“I don’t know exactly what to think, Hector.”
He walked toward the house, but turned at the door, and said:
“But I know what to think.”
“Yes? What?”
“I think nobody get over on Ms. Bannister.”
Then he entered the house.
Within a minute, he was back with the cell phone.
He handed it to her, and she left with Liz.
Five minutes late, they were at the far end of the wharf, where Penelope’s boat The Sea Urchin was moored.
Penelope, to her great relief, was sitting in the boat, eating a small carton of fried chicken.
“Penelope,” she said. “I want to hire you for tonight.”
Penelope put down the red and white box, looked up, and said:
“Where are we
going?”
It was a strange thing. Penelope spoke only in obscenities.
Unless business was being discussed.
Specifically, the business of fishing.
“Where are we going?”
“You know of the Aquatica?”
“Sure I do.”
“Can you get out to her?”
She nodded:
“I go out there every now and then. Ten miles or so. I’ve got her coordinates plotted into my navigation system.”
“How long would it take to get out there?”
“Maybe an hour and a half.”
“Okay. It’s five thirty now. We should get there at seven. That should work. Why do you go out there?”
“Sharks. They vent a ton or so of garbage off that rig every week or so. Lots of sharks.”
“You fish for them?”
She shook her head:
“Naw, I just like to go out there at night and shoot at them.”
“You go out to Aquatica and shoot sharks with a pistol?”
“It’s fun.”
“Don’t they mind?”
“I go at night. They never know I’m there.”
“And you do this with fishing parties?”
“Nope. Just by myself.”
Liz, hearing all of this, shook her head and said:
“God, I like this woman.”
Nina nodded:
“The two of you have a lot in common. Penn, there’s something I have to tell you before we go.”
“All right.”
“The rig is filled with explosives. It may blow up.”
Penelope nodded, thoughtfully, then said:
“We’ll need more beer.”
“That’s possible.”
“And the two of you?”
“Yes?” answered Nina.
“There’s a locker over there about fifty yards up the quay. I use it to store stuff. Take these keys, if you will, and open it.”
“What are we looking for?”
“A forty-five automatic.”
“We’re not going to be shooting any sharks tonight, Penn.”
Penelope simply shook her head:
“I get these feelings sometimes. I’m getting them now.”
“What kind of feelings?”
“Just…there are things to shoot besides sharks.
Yes, there are, Penn. Yes, there are.”
She and Liz went to the lockers, while Penelope went half a mile or so in the other direction to buy beer.