All Lies

by Andrew Cunningham

  Paulo!

  Sabrina and I stiffly stood up and climbed out of the ditch. I saw Emil and the two locals emerge from their hiding spots. Finally, Mario rose from the ditch—the same ditch we were in, only thirty feet further down.

  Sabrina saw the blood on my arm and let out a little gasp.

  "You've been hit!"

  "No, it's okay. Just a flesh wound." That always sounded brave when they said it in the movies. I thought I did it well.

  Paulo emerged from the woods, a big smile on his face.

  Sabrina went up to him and gave him a big hug. "You saved our lives."

  Paulo turned five shades of red, but loved every second of the hug.

  "I think two are dead," he said to me when he had recovered. "One is alive. He will not die."

  "That was dangerous for you," I said. "Thank you."

  "We heard shots from the boat. Much shooting. We knew it was trouble for you." He held up his rifle with a smile. "See? It comes in handy again."

  We followed him into the woods, where Luis was standing over the one I had been speaking with, judging by his location. He was hurt—probably by Sabrina's bullet—and was sitting against a rock. Blood was running down his arm from a shoulder wound, but he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

  I was about to ask him a question when I heard the familiar sound of flesh on flesh behind me, and then a grunt. I turned to find Mario lying on the ground, his face bloody and his glasses broken. Standing over him was Sabrina.

  "You deserve a lot worse than that," she spoke calmly. Never cross Sabrina.

  "I wasn't really going to hurt any of you. I just wanted my share of the gold."

  "Your share?" I asked. "What makes you think you have a share in this?"

  "My great-grandfather was involved in this, just like yours. I deserve as much as you."

  "Which is exactly zero," I replied. "I told you before that we're not keeping any of it. Just because your great-grandfather stole it doesn't mean you have any claim to it. He stole it. It wasn't his in the first place."

  "Yes, but the people he stole it from had stolen it themselves."

  "Shut-up, Mario. You have no say an any of this."

  He stayed on the ground nursing his face. Sabrina was rubbing her knuckles, but had a look of satisfaction in her eyes.

  I turned toward the wounded assailant.

  "Now you're going to do some talking."

  "Fuck off. I'm not saying a word."

  "Really? You really want to go that route? Think about it. You're here alone in the middle of the Amazon. No colleagues, no guns, and you're wounded. You screwed up the job you were hoping to get paid for, so you can forget about that. You are totally on your own. The people of Fordlandia don't like you and we don't like you. We can make you disappear. You've tried to kill us numerous times; you killed Sabrina's sister; you killed an innocent man in Nebraska; and you killed a total of four of Mario's men. Everyone who has any connection to this you've either killed or attempted to kill, except the Flynns, and they were probably next on your list."

  Lying in the ditch had given me time to think, and I was beginning to make some connections. Something Mario had said about Flynn being the only person who seemed unaffected to that point, as well as some things Mikey had said in his book were beginning to bother me. So I took a chance throwing Flynn's name out there.

  But it had the desired effect. He had a momentary look of surprise as I said Flynn's name, then it vanished. But it was enough for me.

  "You wouldn't leave me out here," he said. "I know your kind."

  "You don't know my kind at all," I answered. "Someone once said to me that to protect yourself, you have to be willing to kill your attacker." I gave a sidelong glance at Sabrina. "Trust me, I would have no trouble killing you. You give us the information we want and I will make sure you get some medical help."

  "But you'll turn me over to the police."

  "Of course. But at least you'll be alive. And somehow I doubt if prison would be a new experience for you. So it's your choice. And unlike you or Mario over there, I keep my word."

  There was silence while he considered his options, but he really had no choice, and he knew it.

  "We were hired by Bill Flynn and his wife. He wanted you and your girlfriend gone, her sister gone, Guidry gone, and anyone else who knew too much gone. He didn't tell me why, but he said he wanted the slate completely wiped clean. And he paid us well. The guy had money."

  He grimaced. The pain was beginning to set in. "Our instructions were clear. Everyone connected to this thing was supposed to die."

  Chapter 35

  Bill and Amanda Flynn. The two who wanted nothing to do with the past, who gave me Mikey's book with a good riddance, and who seemed so relieved when they found out they could finally turn in the stolen art. They were the masterminds behind this? Of all the lies we'd had to sort through, theirs was the most convincing.

  One of the locals brought a bandage and some antiseptic and Emil worked on the man's arm while he talked. By now, most of the population of Fordlandia—a couple of dozen or so—was observing the scene.

  He didn't have a lot of information that was useful, but he was able to fill in a little of Bill Flynn's history. He had been working on and off for Flynn for a few years, "taking care of things that needed taking care of." Although Flynn had never seen the inside of a jail cell, he was well-known to law enforcement and had been suspected of running drugs for years. Foley, the wounded man, confirmed that all those suspicions were true. Foley said that Flynn came from a long line of crooks dating back to the beginning of the 20th century.

  "Did he say why he needed you?" I asked.

  "Naw, that wasn't how it was done. He just gave me an assignment and I did it. No explanations." Then he added, "I think this one had something to do with his father. The old man died about six months ago and Flynn was real distracted about something right after his death. When this chick showed up at his door asking questions about something, that's when he called me. I was supposed to kill her and you and Guidry. It was supposed to be an easy job. But then your girlfriend came on the scene and you started to travel around asking questions. He was obsessed that anyone connected with this should die. Was it all about gold?"

  He didn't rate an answer, so I ignored it.

  Foley had nothing else of consequence to say, so we sat him on the wagon with the gold and made our way to the dock. I was trying to figure out how this was all going to be taken care of logistically, but Emil saved me the trouble.

  "I have a fast boat," he said. "I can take Foley to Santarém and turn him over to the police. I know a lot of government officials there—the advantages of coming from a wealthy family. If you want to give me names of whoever they need to contact in the states, I can give them all the information. I can take you too. I'm sure you're anxious to get back and to get word to the authorities up there. I can get you to Santarém in a third of the time it would take Luis and Paulo."

  We agreed that it was probably a good idea for us to move quickly, so we took him up on his offer.

  "What about the gold?" he asked.

  "We don't want to put more responsibility on your shoulders, but do you have any suggestions?"

  "There are a lot of organizations here that could use the money. A lot of poverty. I can find out the names of some reputable gold dealers and distribute the cash. I'd give some to the residents here, as well."

  "You wouldn't mind doing all that?" asked Sabrina.

  "I have a lot of time on my hands. It's the least I can do."

  "We want three of the bars to go to Luis and Paulo. After all, they did save our lives."

  "I'll have them meet me in Santarém. By the time they get there I should be able to cash in three of them."

  "What about Mario?" asked Sabrina.

  "Yes, what about Mario?" said Emil, looking at me.

  "He's almost more trouble than he's worth," I answered. "Other than to orchestrate some minor cr
imes in the U.S., he really hasn't done anything of consequence. He's lost four of his men. My suggestion is that we leave him here and let him find his own way home. I'm sure there will be another boat of tourists coming through here soon. He can catch a ride with them."

  "Works for me," said Sabrina. "The less time we have to spend with him the better."

  Once all the arrangements were set, we said our goodbyes to Luis and Paulo. They were sad that we weren't going to accompany them home, but they seemed to understand. Emil stood by to translate anything Paulo seemed to miss. We paid them the rest of what we owed them, and then sprang the news on them of the gold bars. Paulo's eyes lit up and he hugged Sabrina—funny how he never hugged me. He then told Luis, who had a typical Luis response, who just nodded his head wisely. Obviously it would take a lot more than that to rattle him.

  Mario was upset that he wasn't included in Emil's boat, but once we explained that if he came he would be turned over to the police in Santarém, he wisely chose to wait for the next boat.

  Paulo hugged Sabrina a half a dozen more times before we left, but finally we were on our way. We watched Fordlandia grow more distant as we headed upriver. We each tried to say something significant about our time there, but no words came, so we just sat in silence. It was going to be a while before we would be able to accurately describe the uniqueness of what we had just experienced.

  When we arrived in Santarém, the police were waiting for us at the dock, courtesy of a phone call Emil made from his satellite phone. There was also an ambulance for Foley and me. Emil had patched up my arm, but we all thought it prudent to have it checked out at the hospital. Meanwhile, Sabrina called Marsh in Boston and laid out the whole situation. She brought up the eggs, Flynn, Foley, and other items we hadn't told him before—either because we withheld it or didn't know it at the time. She told me afterward that he was naturally pissed that this was the first he had heard of much of it. He said he would be waiting for us at the gate at Logan when we arrived in Boston. I was not looking forward to that encounter.

  He was not familiar with Flynn, but would put in a call to the Vermont State Police. However, it was decided that nothing would be done until after we arrived. Foley's sketchy information wasn't going to be enough to hold him and might just scare him away. Meanwhile, Marsh was going to see the District Attorney about getting extradition orders to bring Foley to Boston.

  Saying goodbye to Emil was hard. He had been the biggest surprise in our quest. I think we were both a bit envious of his total freedom in life. Granted, I think he was bored and lonely at times, and in all honesty, I didn't see him staying in Fordlandia much longer. It was too remote, even for him. However, he would always make the most of his freedom. I had a feeling he would always find himself in interesting places and situations.

  We all hugged and we thanked him for everything so many times, he finally told us to get lost. With one last round of hugs, we took a taxi to the airport, preparing to leave Brazil behind.

  *****

  We flew out of Santarém that night and arrived in Boston late the next afternoon, bedraggled and exhausted. Marsh, as promised, met us at the gate and escorted us back to my house in East Boston. He accompanied us up to my apartment and we filled him in on all that we could until we couldn't keep our eyes open any longer. We planned to meet the next day at his office to plot our course of action. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

  Marsh also told us that he had heard back from the Vermont State Police. Flynn was, in fact, on their radar and had been for quite some time for a variety of activities, but they had nothing tangible to charge him with. He was also told by the D.A. in Boston that despite Foley having killed two men in Brazil, he didn't see any problem getting him back into the states to face charges.

  Mo and Seymour—who actually ventured from his apartment—each stopped by to see us while Marsh was there. Both looked relieved to see us back in one piece. We promised to fill them in as soon as we could.

  We went to sleep that night wiped out but troubled. We sensed that the next day was going to bring movement of some type. But would it bring closure?

  Chapter 36

  We knocked on the Flynns' door. I adjusted the wire attached to my body. This was another first in my life. I seemed to be having a lot of them these days. And I wasted ten years working in that hell hole?

  I tried not to glance over my shoulder to confirm the presence of the Vermont State Police and Marsh. I didn't want to look nervous, which I was, or give away the plan, which it would. Sabrina took my hand. She sensed my nervousness. I'm sure she was not particularly calm, but she was better at projecting it.

  Amanda Flynn wasn't as good at it as Sabrina. She opened the door and let out a little "ooh," before recovering. Well, that told us all we needed to know. They didn't expect to ever see us again.

  "May we come in?" asked Sabrina sweetly.

  Okay, so Amanda hadn't actually recovered. She didn't say a word. She was the deer, we were the headlights. Finally, she looked over her shoulder and yelled for Bill. His reaction was almost as good as his wife's. The beer he was holding slipped out of his hand, but he caught it before it hit the ground.

  "I thought we were done with you." Did that have a double meaning? "You said we wouldn't see you again."

  "I notice you haven't turned in the paintings yet," I answered.

  "Are you my mother? We haven't had time to do it. It's none of your business."

  "It kinda is. Actually, it's all our business, made more so by your attempts to kill us."

  "What?" Flynn drew the word out in a high-pitched voice. "What the fuck?"

  "Cut the acting. Foley gave you up."

  "Who's Foley?" Flynn was game, but the sweat was beginning to well up on his forehead.

  "Just the guy responsible for the deaths of at least a half dozen people. And since he worked for you, it makes the two of you responsible. That's life in prison."

  "I don't know the guy. I have no idea what you're talking about."

  "I've got to admit," I said, "you're good. You had us fooled. We were actually appreciative of your help. Giving us Mikey's book was a stroke of genius. It put us in the middle of nowhere so Foley could kill us, while at the same time allowing us to dig up the gold. Was the book even real? Did Mikey even write it?"

  "It was real. But we had no idea what was in it."

  "Uh huh."

  "Seriously, I don't know this guy Foley."

  "Flynn, it's over. We found the gold, Foley is in the hospital in Brazil and is going to be extradited up here to testify against you, we're still alive and Mario is still alive."

  "Mario who…" He started the sentence but didn't seem to have the energy left to finish it. He finally said, "You can't prove any of this. Foley's obviously a crook. He's not credible. Other than him, you have no proof. It's his word against mine."

  "And ours. If you tell us where the eggs are, we can try to have them go easier on you."

  "That's too funny. Your word against ours. Do you have any idea how deep in this shit you are? And to anyone listening—yeah, I know you're wearing a wire—I'd watch this guy if I were you. I have no idea where the eggs are, and that's the truth. But you do."

  "I do?"

  "Mikey was a mean son of a bitch, but he didn't have the eggs. Your great-grandfather did, which means he passed them down to your grandfather, your father, and now you. The only person who can possibly know where they are is you. You've figured out everything else so far, so you must have figured out where the eggs are."

  I looked over at Sabrina. This wasn't going as well as we hoped. In fact, it wasn't going well at all. Bill Flynn was calling into question my honesty at a time when he should be cracking under the pressure and admitting his guilt. No wonder the police hadn't been able to make anything on him stick. We were going to have to try a different avenue. But what?

  Sabrina took over.

  "So you're telling us that you had absolutely nothing to do with Foley and h
is henchmen? Even though he identified you by name in the middle of the Amazon jungle? Is that what you're saying?"

  "Yes, that's what I'm saying. Wow, you're swift."

  Uh oh. Obviously Bill Flynn had a short memory. Had he really forgotten that you just didn't do that with Sabrina? Apparently he had.

  Sabrina's face clouded over. She took a step toward him. He involuntarily took a step back and tripped over a chair, landing flat on his back. It was all I could do not to laugh. He was done for. He clambered to his feet, trying to retain some sense of pride. It didn't work. The moment he was up, she stuck a finger in his chest. She must have got him in his solar plexus, because he doubled over.

  "I write mysteries for a living," she said. "If I wrote someone as stupid as you into a book, no one would believe it. You don't get it, do you? You're finished. They will find the connection between you and Foley. They're not idiots. Your best defense is to say that you did hire Foley, but it was only to follow us, not kill us."

  "You do realize they are listening to you."

  "So? I just want them to arrest you. I don't care what you confess to and what you don't. I just want you out of circulation. We're tired of looking over our shoulders."

  He was cooked and he knew it. He probably knew it the minute we came to the door. He looked over at Amanda, who didn't say anything. One would expect that at this point in the game, she would be weeping, or at least have tears in her eyes. Nope. If anything, she looked defiant. She was definitely as much a part of this as he was.

  "Yeah, we hired Foley," Bill finally said. When she heard we, Amanda snapped her head up and looked at Bill with venom. Ah, the sudden end of a beautiful marriage.

  "What do you mean we," she snarled. I had never actually heard someone snarl something before, but there was no doubt about this one. "This was you, you and your fucking family. If your father hadn't shown you Mikey's stuff, none of this ever would have happened."