One Step to Danger

by John Gubert

  The wife had been staying in Rio and was recognised by a former colleague of her husband who was in the city for business. Police had been following her for twenty four hours before they arrested her husband in the early hours of the morning; and then arrested her as she attempted to leave the hotel to visit her husband.”

  I noted that there was no mention of Jacqui or me. I realised that could be a ploy although I doubted it. I also thought that the fact that the police felt my parents might be killed was a good thing. That could relax vigilance at the airports.

  “That’s why you were tracked. It was pure coincidence. They will try to find how you got to Madrid, but their chances of success are almost zero. The trail is too difficult and random. It’s possible also that they believe the Colombian story. If they do that’s good for us.”

  Everyone agreed. We then described what we had done since the arrest.

  I explained how we had raided my mother’s room. Both my parents found my description hilarious. The thought of the two in the bed, bound together and almost naked, slightly shocked them.

  “The poor girl’s reputation will be ruined,” they said.

  “True,” I said and shrugged my shoulders. “But I doubt it will be permanent.”

  “Now look we found the gun. That was stupid bringing it through security.”

  “We didn’t,” said my father. “I bought it in Rio in case we needed it.”

  I was surprised. I had not realised that they were so concerned about their safety and I had not thought they would even know how to go about buying a gun illegally.

  “There was a pile of papers. Do we need them? We took them but did not have time to look at them,” I asked.

  “They are our old passports and other documents. I decided in England at the last minute that we should keep the old documents and I have been carrying them around with me,” said my father.

  “That was a bit dangerous. Couldn’t you have been stopped by the police or customs and been searched?” I queried.

  “I don’t think so. At worst we would have been stopped. Police and customs never really look through papers.”

  “Anyway they will save us quite a bit of bother. We thought we were going to have to get a hideaway for the three of us while Jacqui crossed over the border to get some new papers from the USA.

  I can’t see any risk in using them for you as they think you are kidnapped and, in any event, they think you are travelling under the De Roche name. They won’t be bright enough to look for the Ryders as well, even if they were on alert.

  I can’t believe that the local police didn’t go through your papers. There is no reason why they would have left them in that case. The room did not appear to have been searched. My guess is that they were planning to tidy things up some time today. They seem to have been very slapdash. They had only posted a guard and hadn’t planned really what to do about the stuff in the room.

  Anyway it’s important to move about and get to a safe haven. And the best one will be the health club in California. It’s isolated and we will blend in well once we have as tan and that can be arranged almost immediately with a tanning machine.”

  At that point Jacqui returned. She had hired a car and wanted us to leave at once. “We don’t need to check out. That way they will think we are still here. And it is not unusual in airport hotels for people to leave without paying. They took a credit card imprint and they will just pass the bill to the card. The only risk is that they associate me with the De Roche name. In time they may, but for the moment we are OK.”

  I told Jacqui about my parents’ new use of their real identities. She laughed, “That will make the journey easier. But we had better all change identities again in the USA as my name could be uncovered here and then the Ryder name would also be associated with me through immigration.”

  “I have to use the De Roche name myself as I have no alternative. But I am thirty years younger than the fugitives and so that should not be dangerous. But I’d like to get a new identity as soon as possible. Forty eight hours without trace may make the police revisit their theories.”

  We took our cases. We had enough luggage for four although my parents had nothing but the clothes they were wearing and the papers I had bought. That would not be a problem as we could stock up again when we got to the USA.

  “Let’s move then,” I said. “Everybody take a piece of luggage. Another good thing about these airport hotels is that, as you either prepay or leave the voucher, nobody stops you if you are carrying luggage. Especially as nobody in places like this is really keen to help you.”

  Minutes later we were down to the garage and piled into the car Jacqui had rented. It was the sort of medium sized car that everyone ignores on the road. The idea was to drive to Sao Paulo and then take a plane that would bring us to Mexico. From there we would drive up to the US, crossing near San Diego into California.

  “We will be a good eight hours on the road. I daren’t take the fast road as the police could be watching it. The one I have planned is not bad. Apparently there are a lot of visitors who want to see the real Brazil. And they use these types of road. So that’s what we are. Our alibi is that we are nature lovers who are in search of beauty. At least that’s an excuse to allow us to explain why we are avoiding Brasilia.”

  “I gather the road’s OK for the first hundred miles. That’s good as it will mean that we will be clear of the Rio area that bit quicker. And the further away we are the safer we will be. But we need to be careful. The police will be on the look out for us soon. So we have to exit Brazil. And I would prefer to be out of Mexico. We can stay in the US at the health farm for a couple of months at least. And that will be enough time to kill the enthusiasm of the police.”

  We headed out of the airport and picked up the right road quickly. In the end the journey was quite fun. Jacqui and my parents had never really talked for any period of time. They chatted away merrily and seemed oblivious of the dangers that we faced. I suspected that was a good thing for, in the event of the police stopping us, I could see no option other than a shoot out. And I did not fancy doing that with only one gun. The one I had taken off the policeman had been emptied in the attack on the car.

  I carefully made sure that we did not attract attention. I dutifully obeyed all the rules I could think of.

  After three hours I pulled in and let Jacqui take over at the wheel. We had actually covered half the planned distance. I suspected the journey would slow down now for we had got off the main roads and could get stuck behind slow moving trucks and buses at this stage. I suspected that Jacqui’s temperament was better suited to such driving.

  After a further two hours, we changed shifts again. The night had by now drawn in and there was an ominous silence in the now deserted roads.

  “Should we make a stop over?” I suggested. “Any hotel is hardly going to be luxurious, but it may be better than braving these roads.”

  “No,” said my father sternly. “We would stick out like a sore thumb in a provincial off the track hotel. We need to get to the airport and on to a plane to Mexico. We look like adventurers at the moment in these outfits. I think we’ll be all right. I find my grey hair rather attractive. I am less certain about your blond curls, Charles. They’re slightly effeminate although if you keep your arm around Jacqui, the rumours shouldn’t be too convincing.”

  It was in that relaxed mood that we covered the rest of the journey to Sao Paulo. The first option to leave was by a British Airways flight to Santiago. I took four seats on it, mainly because it left in an hour.

  I went back to the others. “We have got four seats on the Santiago plane. The good news is that it will be by BA. The bad news is two had to be economy. I hate to say this, but I think that our senior citizens need to be in the back. We can hardly play the impoverished traveller with the luggage that Jacqui bought. I got these two holdalls for you. We should stuff some casual clothes in them. Nobody is going to worry if you travel light. The back cabin wi
ll also be less personal and so you should be able to blend into the background much more easily. Jacqui and I need to change into something smarter.”

  Everybody agreed with the plan. We watched my parents through customs and emigration. And then, without any problems, they boarded the plane. Finally a Miss Di Maglio and a Mr De Roche went into club class. It was not surprising that there was a Mr and Mrs Ryder in the rear section. The name was not an uncommon sounding one.

  Plane journeys are rarely exciting and this one wasn’t. We landed and avoided immigration by heading straight to transit. We joined up now as we felt the risks of us being trailed were sufficiently low. The plan was to change airline to make it more difficult to trail us. My father and I went to one of the toilets and got rid of the holdalls, transferring back the clothes into our smart luggage.

  Next stop was Lima and we repeated our exercise there for Bogota and then on to Mexico City. By this time we were exhausted and distinctly grubby.

  An airport hotel beckoned. I turned to my parents and suggested, “We’ll book in separately. That’s a safe precaution. Let’s meet again at ten tomorrow morning. That will give you time to eat from room service, wash and have a really good long sleep. There’s a direct flight to Houston tomorrow and we’re going to have to try and get it. If it’s full we’ll revert to the old plan and drive up to San Diego. The problem is that we’re all too tired for too long a drive now. So if we can avoid it, even if it is a bit riskier, I think we should.”

  Everybody wearily agreed. Half an hour later our room echoed with splashing water. Soon after, a plate of the plastic food that marks a hotel dependent on the transit passenger was served and eagerly consumed. The beds were functional. At least they were clean. And within an hour or so of entering the room, we were fast asleep.

  The next morning, I went over to the airport. The planes were only half full and so getting a seat on the Houston flight was easy. I headed back to the hotel. It was with some trepidation that I waited for my parents at ten the following morning. The clock moved on and they did not appear. I paced up and down in reception, impatiently glancing around.

  “Sorry we’re late. We only realised the time change half an hour ago. We’d adjusted our watches but not enough.”

  I turned round gratefully when I heard my mother’s voice and explained our plans. “I suggest we board at the last minute. Jacqui’s upstairs giving herself a beauty treatment. If you want one, Mum, I suspect she has all the creams you would need. We have time.”

  We all agreed and so the women made up while my father and I watched television. There was no news from Rio. I got the impression that this disappointed my father. It definitely did not bother me.

  Even customs and immigration at Houston were pleasant. They believed that we were in the USA on business. Transit was helpful and we got onto a flight to San Francisco.

  As it touched down and we drove in an air-conditioned limousine to Union Square and our hotel, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “All right. We have two days here. Jacqui can organise the paperwork. And we will also organise security.” They knew I meant guns. I now felt safer when armed. I had dumped our previous weapons before we boarded the plane at Sao Paulo.

  “You two need clothes. Dad should see a doctor for a check up. But that would be risky.”

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “Me too,” said my mother. “My teeth don’t worry me at all.”

  “I’m not going ahead with the dental treatment. And if you are going to get outfits here in San Francisco then we may do without that trip to Italy you had planned. We can do the haircuts here in any case. I would like to avoid borders for a bit. And, in any event, we can run the Asia business from here if we need to.”

  I turned to my father, “You’re the expert but I reckon they’re going to go wild.”

  “They are,” he said, “and they’ll go wilder. And when they have gone really berserk, we’ll strike. I suspect that is going to be sooner rather than later, but not for a few weeks yet.”

  CALIFORNIA

  That night we all slept the sleep of the innocent. Jacqui must have woken up first. The curtains were wide opened and the September sunshine flowed into the room.

  I turned to look for her and saw her walking out of the bathroom. She was dressed only in her panties and bra.

  Jacqui noticed the look in my eyes. “Oh no,” she said, “I’ve just done a grade one make up and we need to get out. We’ve a busy day ahead of us.”

  “But we’ve been so exhausted for the last couple of nights that we have just crashed out,” I protested.

  “Think of me and my body all day,” she retorted, “And then we can really enjoy ourselves tonight. I’ll even take you to a night-club where you can plot your moves.”

  I sighed and got up. She looked at me and arched her eyebrows. “Mmm. I must wear these things more often. They appear to have a greater effect than the advertisement claimed.” She looked down at them, “Definitely x rated stuff this La Perla.”

  She turned to me “Come on or it’ll be a cold shower.”

  I dressed, planning for the day. Above all, we needed to get some new papers. We had never thought that we would have to change our identities yet again. That did not matter as far as our finances were concerned. The arrangements with the Swiss banks were such that they had no interest in our real identities as long as we had the passwords or other arrangements in hand to access our accounts. But not everyone was that easy. We needed new passports, credit cards and permits for cars or guns. It was lucky that Jacqui had memorised long ago the names of suppliers of a variety of goods in all the main cities of America as well as key countries overseas.

  We would need the papers to get the cards. We would need the papers to get the guns, for now we could not exist without them. We had to get some cash till we got our credit cards.

  I marvelled though how Jacqui was able to rustle these up at a moments’ notice. She had explained to me that one of the reasons why the Mafia owned some small banks was, in fact, to be able to issue credit cards. In America, you can’t exist without a piece of plastic, and it was getting more difficult in Europe and Asia. But in America, large sums of cash created suspicion. So we needed to put our finances in order.

  We went for one of those rich American breakfasts that please and add to the obesity of a nation. After that, I called my parents. My father had had all the papers brought to his room and was catching up on events in Asia. My mother said that he was going to be there all day and would use room service. She planned to go shopping and would have liked to meet us for lunch. We explained our unusual shopping list of papers, cards and weapons.

  “I doubt we will be able to do all we need in that time,” said Jacqui. “But how about getting together for a drink at six or seven? Perhaps six would be better. We can then wonder over to Fisherman’s Wharf for a meal.”

  “OK dear,” said my mother. “I’ll stock up on clothes for myself and your father. I don’t need him there. The way he is these days, he just pulls on what first comes to hand.”

  We made sure she knew the direction and got a scolding, “Don’t be silly. I know the area a bit and can speak a version of the language at least. I’ll wear the wig and that black outfit. Nobody’s going to recognise me. And I know I have to pay in cash. We have plenty of that for the time being thanks to Jacqui. We must pay her back soon.”

  “You know you’ll have to play the dumb foreigner,” I said. “Otherwise they’ll be wary of your cash.”

  “I understood that the first time you said it to me. I may be older than you but I am not yet senile you know. I can fend for myself.”

  I laughed, “Point taken.”

  Jacqui had raided her account earlier through one of the cash machines at the airport. So, my mother was stocked up with ten thousand dollars. That should suffice.

  We grabbed a tram from the hotel and then a cab to a fairly dubious part of the city.

  The grim tenement
s towered together. The place was grimy. The streets were covered in litter and other evidence of human misery. The needles were propped up against the verges, having abandoned their skeletal hosts long before.

  People hung around the street corners. They looked at us as we passed. Their looks were both angry and challenging. We avoided eye contact but the antipathy of the bottom rung of the city’s underclass made me distinctly nervous. This was not a healthy district for Jacqui and me. We did not belong here. And this part of the city disliked intruders.

  Jacqui looked around it, “I doubt I would come here on my own for fear of being mugged or raped. I wish we were armed but I want our papers first. By the way the man we are seeing works freelance for my father. I doubt he will do anything funny.”

  The man in question looked like an absent minded university professor. He had white hair that fell over his collar and ears. His face was unmarked. He looked slightly owl like with small wire rimmed glasses and a high forehead. He seemed to be wearing a strange assortment of shabby but clean garments. Brown suit trousers, a cream jacket, a green shirt and a speckled tie. It was hardly haute couture, but it actually suited him.

  “Darling, sweetie, hello,” he cried at Jacqui in an incredibly camp voice. “Who’s the hunk? Is he girl only?”

  Jacqui kissed him on the cheek. “I’m fine. The hunk is Charles. He’s very conservative and just into me this week. And it’s the same the next one as well.”

  “I hope you’re not doing anything naughty. You’re pure Italian blood you know. They only marry virgins. I hope your studies didn’t teach you bad habits.”

  Jacqui laughed. “Oh the horror of a good education. I’ll have to remain a spinster or marry outside the family. Look, seriously I need your help. I want four new identities. We all need a passport, driving licence, social security and the lot. Give us Italian nationality. That allows us to go freely anywhere in Europe.”