“Your trunk open?”
“No, it’s locked. Bring that back.”
“Adam, are you coming or must I go alone?”
By that time she was striding up the dock toward the ramp with the sniper gun under her arm. She passed some sailors who were hauling a boat, too busy to notice, thank God. He had no time to lock up the boat, but he threw a coil of line across the hatchway. He snatched up the tote and he followed. They got to the car. It was close by, thanks again. He opened the trunk; he’d lied about it being locked, and threw all of the weaponry into it.
Claudia climbed into the passenger seat and waited for him to join her. When he did, she poked his leg. She asked, “Are you angry?”
He answered, “I’m not speaking to you.”
“Yes, you are. You’re going to remind me that I’m nuts.”
“Nuts is what you are in general. This, specifically, is willful. I am very upset with you, Claudia.”
“If I hadn’t grabbed those weapons, you’d still be back there stalling. I have to go, but not without you.”
“To willful, add scheming. And manipulative.”
“Start the car. I promise to be good from now on.”
“Will you do as I say?”
“I’ll try to do as you ask. What is it that you’d like me to do?”
That still sounded willful, but it opened the door. She agreed that his wishes should not be ignored, especially regarding their mutual well-being. He outlined…suggested…the rules of engagement. Having agreed that it did make sense to go armed, she agreed that if the hospital had metal detectors, they would abort the Ragland visit. If they got to Ragland’s floor and there were people in his room, they would also abort and return.
“And if you see a camera of any description?”
She nodded. “We’re out of there fast.”
“And if Ragland is alone? Or just Ragland and his wife?”
“I go in by myself. You don’t want to; that’s okay, and I only stop in for two minutes.”
Fat chance that he’ll be alone, thought Whistler. They’ll leave and maybe she’ll come to her senses before any damage is done.
“And if he’s alone, or only him and his wife?”
“I don’t know. I just see what sort of feelings I get.”
“No, you know what I mean. What are you going to say?”
“We tried not to get involved because you’re a married man. I’m not supposed to be with you. I’m a silly little bimbo, but I did want to help. I learned first aid and CPR at beautician school in Toledo. They made me take first aid because I wasn’t good with scissors and I kept nipping off parts of ears.”
“Claudia…”
“As for you, you’re a lawyer with three kids at home and a wife who has all the money. She doesn’t know that you’ve been screwing her beautician. If she finds out, she’ll dump you and she’ll take all your toys, including the boat, which she owns, not you. You’ll deserve it because you’re a scum-sucking rat, and, oh, by the way, I think I’m pregnant.”
“Um…Claudia…”
“If I have to be a bimbo, Adam, you can be a rat.”
This was not, of course, what they had discussed. She was simply to look
in, say hello, how are you feeling? Sergeant Moore said you wanted to thank me. The best way to thank me is to say no more about it. We’re very private people and we hope you’ll understand that we’d rather not be bothered by reporters. If the thrown knife comes up, she has no idea how anyone could think that she could do that. This would be a true statement. Well, sort of. If she’s asked about the bullet she’s supposed to have moved, that one’s easy, just explain what really happened.
“I’m teasing you, Adam,” she said. “I’ll be good.”
“Just remember. Two minutes. I’ll be waiting down the hall.”
Kaplan was almost sure that it was Whistler who passed them going northbound on the Cross Island Parkway. A beige Ford Taurus, man driving, woman with him, heading in the opposite direction.
“You’re sure?” Lockwood asked.
“It looked like them, yeah. But, we’re coming to the bridge. Let’s see if their boat is still out there.” The arching bridge afforded a view of Palmetto Bay and the Sound. Kaplan glanced toward the place where Whistler’s boat had been anchored.
“Boat’s gone. No, there it is. It’s tied up at the fuel dock.”
Lockwood said, “I know. I saw from the plane. You got any idea where they’re going?”
“Who knows?”
“The airport, I bet. The mother’s coming in, right? Let’s go down there and check out the boat.”
“Didn’t Aubrey say don’t go anywhere near?”
“That’s near Whistler. He’s not there. We just go look around.”
“What, we go climb on board? What if that wasn’t them? He sees you, he blows off the top of your head. How about we do what Aubrey says for a change?”
“Screw Aubrey.”
Kaplan raised a hand. He said, “Vern…we’re not stopping. If you do this, you are strictly on your own.”
“You’ll see who does the blowing. It’s not going to be Whistler.”
“Good. You can practice on the Crow guy.”
“Why would Aubrey want to give Whistler a pass? What are these ‘other
plans’ he says he has?”
“Ask him later. Right now, let’s take care of the wacko.”
From the bridge, they stayed on Palmetto Bay Road. Two miles further, they approached Sea Pines Circle. “We go straight here,” said Kaplan, “but just off to the right is where the shoot-em-up was.”
“Where? One of those buildings?”
“That bar on the end. Jump & Phil’s.”
Lockwood said, “Swing in there. Let’s take a look.”
“For what? It’s boarded up.”
“It’s good I get the lay of the land here.”
With a shrug, Kaplan turned to the right off the circle and proceeded for another hundred yards. He said, “On the left. See? Windows covered with plywood. Oh, wait. It looks like they’re open.”
There were outside tables on a tree-shaded terrace that was off to one side of the restaurant. There was an outdoor bar and a built-in TV for customers who wanted to watch sports events. A waitress was setting the tables for lunch and another was stocking the bar. The one at the bar was…oh, yeah…that girl, Leslie. The two owners were sweeping up the last of the glass.
“See the blond one?” Kaplan pointed. “That’s the one who you tried to tell Aubrey was probably the one who carved him up. She look like a killer to you?”
“So, who does?”
“You for one. It’s like you’re wearing a sign. You also can’t get two whole sentences out without talking about killing someone.”
“Whistler’s girl friend…she look like a killer to you?”
“Good point,” said Kaplan. “Her, I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“Let’s get closer to this one. I can’t see her face.”
“Vern, she can’t see yours either. You should keep it that way.”
“You said she was on the boat with Whistler and those others? Then she knows what that meeting was about.”
“So we what? Order brunch? Ask if she’ll fill us in?”
“Just go in and swing around so I can see.”
Kaplan did as he was told, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t need Leslie to look up and spot him. She knew his face from all those times at the bar. She’d certainly noticed his red Cadillac from all the times he’d pulled up in it. She’d remember how he ducked out last night before the police could show up. It could enter her head to take down his plate number and give it to that cop friend of hers. Not likely, but possible. Why take the chance?
“Which reminds me,” he told Lockwood, “we have to boost another car.”
“What’s the matter with this one?”
“We’re going to hit Crow leaving this parked out front? I also don’t need his bloo
d and fibers in my trunk. You’re sure that you’ve done this before?”
“Don’t get smart.”
“Fine. I’ll shut up. Let’s go boost.”
“You know what we should be boosting? That bar girl, is who.”
“Vernon, I don’t want to hear this.”
“We sweat her a little. Like you said, she fills us in.”
“Then what? No, don’t tell me. That’s two sentences already.”
“If I can’t touch Whistler, you know what we should do?”
“I told you. I don’t want to hear this.”
“We finish with her and we cut off her head. We toss it in the back of Whistler’s boat. We toss it back where they were eating their breakfast. There’s a word for that. What’s the word?”
“Fucking sick?”
“A calling card. That’s it. From me to him. That’s what I think I’ll do before we’re done here.”
“Vernon…”
“Not now, though. You’re right. Let’s find a car.”
Harry Whistler was airborne in the Gulfstream 4. His pilot, Erich Bierman, who once flew for Lufthansa, had been with him for more than ten years. The co-pilot, younger, had been with him for five.
Captain Bierman had computed the amount of fuel that would be burned while crossing the Atlantic from Geneva. That fuel, once consumed, would leave the plane light enough to land on Hilton Head Airport’s short runway. Taking off, fully fueled, would not be possible, however. They would have to reroute through Savannah or Charlotte, refuel, and fly back from there.
Just as well, thought Harry. He told the captain that he and the twins would get off the plane on the island. The captain would then take off at once and make at least three additional stops. That way, anyone tracking his plane would find it harder to know whether he was on board and where he seemed to be heading.
He didn’t like the idea of both twins flying with him, but he’d had little choice in this case. He had always preferred that the twins be split up and arrive at different times by different means, but dressed alike. Even Kate had once thought she must be losing her mind when she saw the same little man keep popping up in what seemed to be two places at once.
As the Gulfstream reached altitude, he tried Adam again. And again, he got an answering machine. He said, “Adam, pick up. Is anyone there? Damn it. Okay, listen to me.”
He related, briefly, his discussion with Bannerman. He recounted his realization, or suspicion, that the entries for Recon-JC in Aubrey’s ledger must refer…might refer…to Joshua Crow. He said that if so, it must be assumed that Aubrey and Poole were involved in the event.
He said, “They may not have been…they should not have been…unless they have both gone out of their minds. But you, for your safety, must assume that they were.”
He said, “As to your claim that you yourself were not involved, I am no longer able to believe you. I don’t know how or why or when this began. I can only assume that, during your travels, you ran into Olivia Torrey. I’m trying to assume that you didn’t know what her husband did for a living. I’m assuming, in short, that you blundered into this because I hope that you wouldn’t be stupid enough to…”
He paused, then added, “Sorry, Adam. I’m a little upset. I know that you’re smarter than that. I’m reminded, however, that your transmitter had an echo ever since…where was it?…Martinique. I’m the stupid one for not realizing before this that a second transmitter would have that effect. If it’s there, then someone has been tracking you, Adam. My guess would be Aubrey, but it could be almost anyone, some unfinished business from your former vocation. Find it, get rid of it, but do so offshore. Get that boat away from the dock.”
He said, “We’re on our way to Hilton Head Island. We’ll arrive between five and six this evening and we’ll do a pass before landing. I’ll expect to see that boat where you’d anchored it this morning. You’ll know my plane, but do not meet my flight. I want you to stay in one place.”
He said, “One more thing, and please do not argue about it. Some of Bannerman’s people are on their way down there. Figure about two and a half hours. I think you’ll know them if you see them, but pretend that you don’t. They’re not coming down to fight anyone’s battles. They’re to look out for you and that’s all.”
He closed by giving his son the number through which he could be reached while in flight. Donald asked, “You’re not telling him Kate’s coming?”
“If he knew that he might go to the airport. Claudia would certainly want to.”
“Except, the thing is, she could have called them already. Maybe that’s why they’re not on the boat. Maybe they already went to get her.”
Harry Whistler shook his head. “Too early by far.” He fished for a note containing Kate’s flight information. It said that she should just be approaching Atlanta where she’d have to change planes to Savannah. He buzzed Erich and asked him to contact her flight and ask that she be summoned to the cabin.
“By the way,” he said to Donald, “Bannerman thanked me for looking into that business with Carla.”
“With Carla? Oh. That thing in Zurich, you mean?”
“The thing you said was ‘just a for instance.’”
“Me and Dennis didn’t think we should bother you with that. She was there for a visit with Lesko and Elena. She went for a walk; two punks tried for her purse, and one of them whacked her in the ear. And it wasn’t a knifing; it was more like a whittling. What Bannerman was afraid of was that she went hunting. You know, like she used to. She’d go out, like, looking lost to see who would take advantage. She doesn’t do that no more. This was random.”
“So she claimed?”
Donald shook his head. “Nah, it’s true. She really doesn’t. Her boyfriend, Viktor, the KGB guy, made her promise she wouldn’t take chances like that. I mean, not just for the hell of it.”
Harry Whistler threw up his hands. “Yeah, but damn it…”
He didn’t finish because the captain had buzzed him. The contact with Kate Geller’s plane had been made. Kate Geller was now on the line.
She spoke first. She said, “Harry, don’t give me any grief. I’m long overdue for a visit.”
“Kate…it’s all right. Do they know that you’re coming?”
“They will now, but I only got their machine. How about you? Did you speak to them?”
He said, “I spoke to Adam early this morning. They’re fine. They were having some friends out for breakfast on the boat. But it got me thinking. It has been too long. So, I’m on my way over myself.”
“You’re calling from your plane?”
“Yeah, I thought I’d pop in.”
A brief silence. “From Geneva? That’s what you call popping in?”
“Well, it’s not as if Denver is just down the street. If you can be impulsive, why can’t I?”
A longer silence. “Harry… what’s going on?”
He said, “Okay, I won’t kid you. I’m worried about them. There are things about this I don’t like.”
“But you did speak to Adam? That was the truth?”
“It was, but he hasn’t answered since. However…”
“So you don’t know whether they’re fine or not. Harry…yes or no. Were they in that bar last night?”
“Yeah. I think so, but it could have been strictly by chance. What happened might be part of something much larger and I’m not sure that Adam is aware of it. I’ve no reason to think that they’re in imminent danger, but I’ve taken some measures to protect them all the same until they’re well clear of that island.”
Another brief silence. “You’re scaring me, Harry.”
“You’re booked through to Hilton Head’s Airport, correct? When you land, I want you to wait in the terminal. A friend of mine, a woman named Molly Farrell, will be flying in a half hour later.”
“What kind of a friend? Like the twins are a friend?”
“This is someone you’ll be more comfortable with, but yes, Molly F
arrell is a pro. She’ll have another woman with her, very small, red hair. The other woman’s name is Carla Benedict. Carla is…well, unusual, but these two will protect you. I don’t want you to go anywhere without them.”
“Protect me? Damn it, Harry…why do I need protection?”
“This is nothing new, Kate. You’ve been protected all along. Like it or not,
it comes with knowing me.”
“Then I’m better off not knowing you, aren’t I, Harry?”
“For today? No, you’re not. So you’ll do as I ask. Tomorrow, you can do as you please.”
TWENTY FIVE
Arnold Kaplan was having serious doubts about hitching his star to Vernon Lockwood. They’d be driving down the road, looking for a car to steal, and Lockwood would be saying, “Let’s get this one or that one.” He’d be pointing at cars that were parked outside stores. It’s like the shopper wouldn’t look out and notice.
Kaplan had picked out the car they would use. He had found it in a lot behind a Bi-Lo Supermarket by a sign that read “Employee Parking Only.” An employee’s car was not likely to be missed before the end of the shift. It was a beat-up green Pontiac, maybe twenty years old that probably belched oil by the quart. On the plus side, it had four doors, a big trunk, and a car this old was low-tech enough that he wouldn’t need tools to hot-wire it.
Lockwood argued, of course. “What, this piece of shit?”
“Vernon…would you look for you in this car? This is not a car people take notice of.”
“That’s if it starts. Go try. I’ll park this one.”
“Park the Cadillac, where? You mean here in this lot?”
“Down the end. Pick me up down the end.”
Nobody, thought Kaplan, can be that fucking dumb. He reminded himself that neither was Lockwood. Not always, at least. But it’s like he wears blinders. It’s like he only has room for one thought at a time and his only thought now… and for like, the past year…has been what he wants to do this Whistler.
Kaplan started to explain that when the owner comes out, he is likely to call the police. The police will come and they’ll see this red Cadillac that no one who works here seems to own. The police will then wonder…never mind. It’s not worth it. He told Lockwood, “We’ll leave it up the road.”
Whistler's Angel (The Bannerman Series) Page 26