by Stuart Woods
Prince turned back to Cat. “I must apologize,” he said, “but of course everyone who was at the discotheque has to be questioned.”
Cat shrugged. “Of course. I would like to have the pistol back if it’s recovered,” he said.
“Not the radio?”
“I can buy a radio anywhere,” Cat responded, “but I don’t like being in this country without a pistol.”
“Of course.” Prince turned, put his feet on the couch, and placed a pillow at his back. “I have something else to ask you,” he said to Cat, “and I want a full and complete response.”
“What would you like to know?” Cat asked.
“Why do you think that my name is Prince?”
Cat cocked his head. “I’m sorry, isn’t that your name?” he asked, playing for time. He had blown it somewhere along the way, but where? Then he remembered. He had said it to Vargas when he reported the burglary.
“Where did you hear this?” Prince demanded.
“At the reception on the first night,” Cat said. “Perhaps I misunderstood.”
“From whom?”
Cat wrinkled his brow. “From nobody in particular—I mean, it didn’t come from anyone I met. As I remember, I was standing, waiting for a drink at the bar, and someone behind me was talking. Someone said, ‘Anaconda? Doesn’t the man have a name?’ And someone else said, ‘Yes, it’s Prince.’”
“Who was this person?” Prince wanted to know.
“I’m sorry, it was no one I knew. I didn’t even turn around, so I never saw his face. He seemed pretty sure of himself, though. He was quite definite.”
Prince stared at Cat for a long moment without speaking. Finally, he said, “I understand you were looking at airplanes this morning.”
“Yes, I went jogging, and I ended up there.”
“You were asking quite specific questions about an airplane.”
“Yes, the Maule. I saw one demonstrated once, and I was curious to know the technique.”
“You are a pilot?”
“Yes, a very new one. I only got my license recently. I was hoping your man would give me a demonstration, but he said he only barely made it into the clearing and that it wouldn’t be possible to take off from there until more land had been cleared. Apparently, a short-field takeoff isn’t as easy as it looks.”
“So I’m told,” Prince said. He stood up. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” he said.
Cat stood. “Will you and your friend join us for some tennis again tomorrow morning?” He nodded at Jinx, who was still absorbed in her painting.
“Fine, eight o’clock?” Prince replied.
“How about seven?” Cat said. “I find I wake up early in the jungle.”
“Seven o’clock then,” Prince said.
Cat followed Vargas to the door, then stopped and turned. “By the way, if my pistol shouldn’t be recovered, do you think I might have a replacement? I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about the street crime in this country.”
Prince walked toward him. “I think we can find you something to take away with you,” he said. He looked down and brushed something off his trousers.
Something caused Cat to look at Jinx. She was no longer looking out the window, painting what she saw. She was looking directly at him. Suddenly, she did something that struck him speechless. She gave him a broad wink.
Cat followed Vargas back downstairs, breathing rapidly. Jinx was coming out of whatever prison she had built in her mind, he knew she was. He had a memory of her, a tiny thing, learning how to wink one eye and keep the other open. It had been one of their personal forms of communication ever since.
He tried to contain his exhilaration. She knew who he was, but did she understand what was going on? And if she did, could she keep her wits about her until tomorrow’s tennis match? She could if she was the old Jinx, he knew. He wondered if, after all she had been through, she could ever be the old Jinx again.
34
“I’M SUPPOSED TO HAVE EVERYTHING BETWEEN ST. AUGUSTINE and West Palm Beach.” Dell smashed his fist down into the water.
“Easy,” Cat said. “Don’t call attention to yourself.”
They were in the pool. Dell pushed off and swam a couple of fast laps, and when he stopped he was breathing hard. “In a couple of years I’d have had enough money to last me the rest of my life, anywhere in the world.”
“If you’d lived long enough,” Cat said. “Look, Dell, the way it’s done is, you get some education, you find a kind of work you like, you get good at it. You rise in a company, or you go off on your own, the way your uncle and I did. First, you make a living. Later, if you’re good enough and lucky enough, you make some money. It may sound dull, but it’s very satisfying.”
“It may be good enough for you, but it’s not good enough for me,” Dell said. “I know you don’t understand that, but it’s just not fast enough. I don’t want to wait until I’m your age. That’s why I’ve got to do it. That and the fact that if I go back without at least the million I brought down here, I’ll get blown away by my own partners.”
“Look, Dell, I’ll make up what your partners have lost. What is it, seven hundred thousand? I’ll sell something—the house, if I have to.”
“What about my three hundred grand? You think I didn’t bust my hump for that? Risk a lot?”
Cat fought hard to keep his temper. “All right,” he said finally, “I’ll make that up, too. It may take some time; I can’t sell company stock without Ben’s agreement.”
Dell whirled on him. “Listen, there’s fifty million bucks in cash in that house, and I know where it is. It’s in a big closet hidden behind a wall in the communications room. Straight ahead, as you walk in the door; a bookshelf pulls out. Not a vault, or anything, just a closet. I ought to be able to carry away four or five million.”
“That place has got to be manned twenty-four hours a day, you know. What are you going to do about that?”
“Whatever I have to,” Dell said. “I’d have a better chance if you helped me.”
“I’ve offered to help you, already,” Cat insisted. “I’ve offered to get you out of here alive, for a start; I’ve offered to make good yours and your partners’ losses. What else do you expect from me?”
“Help me get at that cash.”
“No,” Cat said quickly. “This is the way it’s going to happen. Some time between seven and nine tomorrow morning, I force Prince down to the clearing, and I force the helicopter pilot to fly us all out of here. That’s it. If you want to come, be there early, don’t get seen going or arriving. Stay in the brush until we’re all there.” Cat hauled himself out of the pool, grabbed a towel, and walked briskly back to the cottage. He was sweating again by the time he got there, and he reveled in the cool of the air-conditioning on his skin.
Meg came out of the bedroom. “Did you find Dell?”
“Yes. He wants to try and steal some of the cash we saw the other night.”
“Jesus! Is he nuts?”
“Yes, probably. I’ve told him the plan. We’ll take him with us if he’s there. It’s all I can do.”
“You’re right, it is all you can do. I’m glad you’re smart enough to know that.”
“There’s something else.” He paused.
“Yes?”
“Well, I don’t really know; it’s just that Jinx winked at me when I was in Prince’s suite today.”
“Winked at you? What does that mean?”
“Well, it’s something we used to do, since she was a little girl. It was sort of a private joke; we’d wink at each other when nobody was watching.”
“You think she’s coming out of it, then?”
“Maybe, and that worries me.”
“Why does it worry you? Won’t it be a lot easier to get her out of here if she knows who she is and what we’re doing?”
“I hope so, but I don’t know. I don’t know what sort of mental shape she’s going to be in, in the middle of all this. You said, yourse
lf, that in her present state, she might resist coming with us.”
Meg came and stood behind him and rubbed his shoulders. “Look, there’s no use making yourself crazy about this. You know what you’re going to do, and chances are, it’ll work. Try and relax.”
Cat sighed. “There’s just so much that can go wrong—so many loose ends, so much I have no control over.”
The telephone rang, and they both jumped. Cat answered it.
“Mr. Ellis, this is Vargas. Will you come to my office, please? We’ve found your burglar.”
Cat hung up. “Vargas says they’ve found the burglar.”
“Maybe you’ll get the radio back.”
“Christ, I hope so.” He got into some clothes and walked quickly to the main house. Vargas’s office was empty. He went into the communications room, where a lone man was on duty.
“You seen Vargas?”
“He was there a minute ago,” the man said. “He’s probably gone to the can or something.”
Cat looked around the room at the equipment. The printer manual with his photograph was still on the shelf where he had put it. Then he saw something he hadn’t seen before—a small radio with the name “King” on it, the same name as the radios in his Cessna. Cat pointed at the radio. “You talk with airplanes?”
“Just with the chopper you came in on, and we can only reach him a few miles out. We don’t have much height on our antenna, and he always flies low.”
“Who do you talk to on the high-frequency radio?” Cat asked.
“Whoever we want to,” the man answered. “We call a marine operator—which one depends on the time of day—atmospherics and all that. We give ’em an account number, and they call whatever number we want, just about anywhere in the world.” He looked up at Cat. “You’ve got to have an approval, though, from the Anaconda or Vargas.”
“Oh, I don’t need to make a call,” Cat said. “I just wondered how it all worked.”
“Mr. Ellis?”
Cat jumped. Vargas had walked up behind him.
“I have something for you,” Vargas said, walking back into his office.
Cat followed him. “You’ve caught the burglar?”
“Yes,” Vargas replied, “a kitchen worker at the discotheque. He committed the murder, too. He has already been dealt with.”
Cat didn’t want to know what that meant. “Did you find my pistol?”
Vargas opened a desk drawer and placed the .357 magnum on the desk. “Yes, but I will keep it for the duration of the conference. It will be returned to you when you depart.”
Cat nodded. “Okay.” He turned to leave, hoping against hope.
“Oh,” Vargas said.
Cat turned around. “Something else?”
Vargas placed the radio on the table. “We found this, too.”
Cat smiled. “Oh, good.” He picked up the radio. “Thanks a lot.” He turned and left the room, feeling Vargas’s eyes on his back, hoping he hadn’t had the radio inspected by one of his communications specialists.
On the path back to the cottage, he made a point of not looking at the radio, but as soon as he was through the door, he went over it carefully. There was a large dent in the case. He turned the power knob. Nothing happened. It should be making static noises, but nothing happened.
“Does it work?” Meg asked.
“No. Do you have a small screwdriver, by any chance?”
“No.”
Cat thought for a minute. “How about a manicure kit?”
“Sure.” She went into the bedroom and came back with a small leather pouch.
Cat took one of the small tools and got the screws out of the back of the case. It was densely packed with electronic bits and pieces, most of which looked familiar.
“Can you fix it? You are some sort of engineer, aren’t you?”
“That’s right, but before I can fix it, I’ve got to figure out what’s wrong with it. So far, everything looks normal.” He chose another tool, and with some difficulty, removed a circuit board to reveal another layer of electronics. “Oh, shit,” he said.
“What is it?”
Cat picked up the tweezers and reached into the radio. He came out with some small pieces of material.
“What is that?”
“It’s what’s left of a printed circuit board. Whatever made the dent in the case smashed it into several pieces. It looks like custom work, nothing standard.”
“Can you fix it?”
Cat shook his head. “If I had it in my shop, and most important, if I had a schematic of the board, maybe. Probably not even then. Certainly not here and with nothing.”
“Well,” Meg sighed, “at least we’re no worse off than we were this morning.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “On the other hand . . .”
“What?”
“How did it get damaged? It looks as if someone stomped on it. Why?”
“It was probably an accident.”
“I hope so. I hope nobody’s had a look inside the thing. Anybody who knows anything about radios would know it’s no ordinary Sony.”
“Oh, come on. If Prince knew anything, he’d have been all over us by now.”
“Maybe. But if he is onto us, he knows now that we can’t hurt him. Maybe he’s playing cat and mouse with us.”
35
THEY SAT AT THE LONG TABLE AT DINNER. CAT REFUSED WINE; so did Meg. They didn’t do much with the food either. Jinx was at the far end of the table, too far away for Cat to get any sort of reading on her state of mind.
“I’m scared,” Meg said.
Cat laughed. “Isn’t everybody?”
“I’ve never been in a spot quite like this,” she said. “Being a journalist usually bought me protection, but I doubt it would be much help if I flashed my credentials here.”
“I think you’re right.” Cat threw his napkin on the table. “Excuse me. I’ll be back in a minute.” He got up and asked a waiter for directions to the men’s room, knowing quite well where it was, just across the foyer from Vargas’s office. He had nothing specific in mind; he just wanted a few minutes in that communications room, and he was groping for a way to achieve that.
As he walked past Vargas’s office, he could hear the quiet whir of the Cat One printer coming from the radio room. He used the men’s room, and as he was about to leave, a man in a uniform came into the men’s room and went into a booth. Maybe, Cat thought, just maybe. He walked quickly across the hall into Vargas’s office, then into the communications room. He wasn’t sure what he would say if someone was in there. No one was. The duty man was across the foyer on the can. Cat went to the printer, switched it off, and lifted the cover. Using his ballpoint pen, he changed the settings on the dip switches, then closed the cover and switched the printer on again. Nothing happened. The printer was now useless. He started out of the office, but he heard an all too familiar sound from across the foyer—a flushing toilet. The noise disappeared as the men’s-room door closed. The radioman was on his way back. He was trapped. Then he heard footsteps and the voices of two men. He had a moment.
Cat turned to the only refuge he knew about. Quickly, he followed Dell’s instructions. The bookshelf, dead ahead as you walked into the room, opened. He began looking for the door handle, feeling behind the books. He heard footsteps on the marble floor again just as he found it. The shelf swung out silently, and Cat stepped inside the closet, pulling the shelf closed behind him. Standing in the dark, he heard the voices of two men as they entered the communications room.
“Oh, shit,” one of them said. “The goddamned printer’s down.”
“You sure it’s plugged in?” the other man asked.
“Of course—it was running just a minute ago. Vargas is really going to be pissed. He wanted this job done by morning, and it’s a big one.”
“Let me take a look at it,” the other man said.
Cat heard a scraping noise as the cover was lifted.
“Jesus, that’s Greek to me,�
�� the man said.
“You think there’s a reset button or something? What’s that, there?”
It was obvious to Cat that both men were looking into the printer. Their backs would be to the door. He felt under his arm, to be sure the pistol was still there, pushed open the door, carefully closed it behind him, and tiptoed into Vargas’s office. There, he took a moment to catch his breath, then he walked back into the communications room. “Excuse me,” he said. Both men turned around. “I was wondering if I could borrow a soldering iron. I’ve got a broken circuit board on a portable radio, and I think I can fix it.”
“Sorry,” the radioman said. “I haven’t got one here. You’ll have to see maintenance about that, and they won’t be around until tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, thanks anyway,” Cat said, turning to go. “Got a problem there?”
“Yeah, the printer’s down.”
“That’s a Cat One, isn’t it? I used to sell them. Want me to have a look at it?”
“I’d really appreciate it,” the man said.
Cat walked to the printer and removed the cover. “Have you got a small screwdriver?” he asked.
“Hang on,” the radioman replied. He went and rummaged in a drawer. “How’s this?” he said, holding up a screwdriver.
“Ideal,” Cat said. “Just give me a minute.” He wondered how the hell he could get rid of them for a few minutes.
“Listen, Tom,” the radioman said to the other man, “you want to do double shifts? You do twelve to eight tonight, and I’ll do tomorrow night. We’ll both get more sleep.”
“You think Vargas would mind?”
“What the hell? The room will be covered, and he never comes around here in the middle of the night, anyway. He’s never set foot in that office before nine, and you know it.”
“Sure, okay. I’ll relieve you at midnight. See you then.” He left the room.
Cat reached down with the little screwdriver and reset the dip switches. He closed the cover. “Let’s try it now,” he said. He switched the machine off, then on again. It puffed away, the print head moving fast, back and forth across the paper.
“Hey, that’s fantastic,” the radioman said. “My ass would have been in a wringer if I hadn’t gotten this job done tonight.”