“I can’t see here,” another voice complained in a normal tone. “Can we move to another table?” There was a renewed shuffling of feet followed by the sound of heavy bodies sinking into chairs. “You realize that all these table locations could be bugged, of course,” the same voice said softly. It had a hollow sound, as though the walls were farther removed. Where was the microphone, I wondered?
“Naaaah. They’d have to hire too many more guards just to listen in.”
“You didn’t move me the last time,” Erikson said.
“The story is that nothin’s bugged till after the third visit.”
“So we qualify.” Erikson’s tone was thoughtful.
“That’s why I figured we should move.” A note of urgency entered Slater’s voice. “What’s the word?”
“Your story holds together. The money was actually sent down there just before everything blew up. Although it was never publicized, I found out that the guarded money truck was waylaid. There’s still only your word that you were part of the hijack gang.” There was a brief pause. I could picture the two men sitting there eyeing each other. “How many men do you claim were with you?”
“Not how many men I claim were with me,” Slater’s voice rasped irritably. “We were there, damn it. Four of us. Big Al Lusky, Pancho Valdez, Digger McAllister, an’ me. Digger an’ I were the only ones who made it off the island, an’ Digger bought the farm a year later in a bar in Tangier.”
“Making you the sole survivor of the hijack.”
“How many times I gotta tell you that?”
“How many men were guarding the shipment?”
“Five,” Slater’s voice replied. “A guard with the driver, an’ three more in back with the cash. Al an’ Pancho got careless after we stopped the truck an’ the sacks were passed down. They caught it from a machine gun in the truck’s front seat. Digger lost his cool an’ lobbed a grenade into the truck. I know there were five of ‘em in the truck, although nobody stopped to count the pieces afterward.”
“And the money has never been recovered?”
“Nobody could find it.”
“But you can find it?”
“You’re damn right I can.” Slater’s tone was positive.
“You waited long enough to say anything about it.”
“Listen, at first I was gonna sweat out this jolt here an’ go back myself. Then after the trouble I had in Statesville”—there was a pause—“well, I’m not goin’ anywhere for a while.”
“Not for forty years.” Erikson’s tone was dry. “Not without outside help. It makes me wonder why with this on your mind you didn’t stay out of trouble until you were eligible for parole.”
“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, man!” Slater’s voice hardened. “You don’t act in these places. You react. I didn’t want trouble, but I was pushed. The warden moved me over here to Joliet after I killed that joker in case his friends came lookin’ for me. By that time the friends knew better.”
“You’d never have made it back there for the cash by yourself, anyway.”
“I wasn’t goin’ by myself. I had a man in mind for the job. A good man. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still in.”
“Who’s the man?”
“His name wouldn’t mean nothin’ to you. All you need to know right now is that he’s got ability we’ll need at that end of the line, an’ for a bonus he can shoot the left teat off a female mosquito at a hundred yards.”
“I’d need to know considerably more about him than that.” Erikson’s tone was icy.
“He’ll tell you himself when I introduce you.” Slater’s voice was just as cold. ”If we ever put this thing together. Did you talk financing to your people?”
“We don’t have a deal yet. As you just pointed out. But if and when we do, there’ll be no cash thrown around. We’ll get you out of here, and we’ll take care of some of the arrangements, but there’s no intention of sending good money after bad.”
“You chintzy, chicken-livered nickel-nursers!” Slater’s voice complained bitterly. “All right, then. All the more reason you got to take my man. This job’s gonna take cash, an’ he’ll produce it.”
“Speaking of cash, how much did you say was in the hijack?” The question was slipped in smoothly.
“Who adds up bills when they’re runnin'?” Slater’s tone was suspicious. “Pancho Valdez said the take would be two million U.S., an’ he was high enough up in the treasury department there to know.”
“More than twice that was sent down there.”
There was a soft whistle. ”Four million?”
“Plus two hundred thousand.”
“Maybe Pancho was figurin’ on givin’ us a fast count,” Slater suggested. “All I know is that whatever was there is still there.”
“Did you open a sack after the hijack?”
“Sure we did.”
“What did you find?”
“Bundles of thousand-dollar bills wrapped in green bands.”
“You didn’t take even a few samples?”
“Where were we gonna spend it? It was supposed to be a temporary cache, but a week later the whole face of nature changed down there, an’ all I wanted was out. Then while I was plannin’ on how I was goin’ back I got grabbed on the phony deal that landed me in Statesville.”
“Let me ask you why—”
Slater’s voice overrode Erikson’s. “What’s all the futzin’ around about? You know I was in on the heist. You know how much cash was sent down there. You know it’s never been found or the bills would’ve been traced. Are you gonna go for this thing or aren’t you?”
“You’re sure nobody saw you hide the cash?”
“Nobody left alive.” Slater said it sullenly. “Don’t bug me, man. I’m tired of sittin’ in this stinkin’ hole. I wanna know what you’re gonna do. Just kind of keep it in mind you’re not the only fish in the ocean.”
“Just the only fish that can spring the locks on this place for you.” There was a short silence. “In that climate paper money could have rotted away in the length of time you’ve been tucked away here. I’d hate to sweat the action and find pulp.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not.”
“Why should you worry when you’re trading your share for life on the outside?” For the first time there was an edge in Erikson’s voice.
“That’s right,” Slater agreed. His tone was unexpectedly jovial. “But don’t worry about it. The cash is okay.” His voice changed. “You don’t sound like you did the last time you were here. Don’t tell me the wheels turned you down on the project an’ you’re thinkin’ of makin’ the play yourself?”
“What makes you say that?”
“The way you’re flingin’ around expense money.” Slater’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“Let’s just say that everything is being left to me to decide.” Again there was a brief silence. “And I’ve decided. We’ll set it up for five men.”
“What the hell! Four can handle it.”
“No. We’ll use five. You and your pro with the cash. Me and a man I’ll choose. Plus a boat operator to get us out.”
“Have it your way. When do you spring me?”
“It will take a while to set it up. In the meantime, give me a lead and I’ll contact this buddy of yours for you.”
“Quickest way I know to run him underground,” Slater countered. “I’ll have a pal put out a flag for him. Sometimes he don’t surface for a good long time. Say, hadn’t you better open up that briefcase an’ make out like you’re doin’ a little lawyerin'?”
“Good idea.”
There was the sound of a clasp snapping open and then the rustle-rattle of paper. A period of silence followed before Erikson’s voice was heard again. “That’s it for now, Slater,” he said. “You’ll hear from us.”
There was a commingled shuffling of feet followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. “Let’s see those hands, Slater!” a guard’s voice barked.
There was the slam of metal as a barred gate opened and closed. I pictured the detention room and Slater waiting between two locked doors for the guard to let him back into the cell block.
Then the sound died out.
Slater leaned forward and switched off the tape recorder.
“Where was the microphone?” I asked him.
“It was a minimike under my shirt collar.”
“You didn’t trust Erikson?”
“Did I have to give myself any the worst of it? Some of our talks were more complicated. I wanted to listen to him again before I decided he was the one.”
“He seems to think he was the only one.”
“That’s Erikson.”
“How could you get even a miniature recorder inside?”
“A few dollars spread around’ll get you most anything.”
“What about this Erikson? Who are these people both of you refer to? The syndicate?”
“The people who put me on the street.”
Evidently that was all I was going to hear on that subject. “Why is he ex-Navy?”
“Because he likes money. An’ when we split the take from this job, he can buy his own navy.”
The bravado was typical of Slater. I remembered. “You might as well get him up here,” I said. I didn’t see how it could do any harm to listen.
Slater went to the phone and had the bar paged again. “Room 304, Karl.” He chuckled. “Straight goods this time.”
“Introduce me as Earl Drake,” I said when he hung up.
Slater nodded. Neither of us said anything until there was a knock at the door. Slater opened it. “Karl-with-a-K Erikson, Earl Drake”—Slater made the introduction as the Viking entered the room.
Erikson and I shook hands. His hand was twice the size of mine. He had pale blue eyes, and they were itemizing me right down to the corns on my feet. Then the icy-looking blue eyes swung to Slater. “Have you told him?”
“No details.”
The eyes returned to me. “Are you aboard?”
So there it was. “If I have no reservations about where the Spanish is going to be spoken.”
“Cuba.”
“Cuba? There’s a big money touch in Cuba?”
“Big,” Slater affirmed. “Havana.”
Erikson began to speak in the manner of a man who has given a lot of thought to his subject. “Six weeks before Castro made his breakout from the Sierra Maestras, a section of the U.S. State Department sent cash to Batista. The money disappeared in the backlash of the revolutionary overthrow. With Castro in the saddle, the U.S. had no hope of recovery even if the State Department or the CIA could find out where it went. In fact, State officially disclaimed that any cash had ever been sent to Batista. Nobody wanted to be pinned with the donkey’s tail of backing a loser. Eventually the money was written off.”
Erikson jerked a thumb at Slater. “At the time, he was working in one of Meyer Lansky’s casinos in Havana. A man in Batista’s cabinet came to a Lansky underling with word of the conveniently available cash. It was hijacked while being transferred in an armored car.”
“You’re talking about what—eight or ten years ago?” I asked Erikson. “That’s a long time. Why should the cash still be there?”
“Because nobody could find it,” Slater answered for him. “If anything happens to me, the bundle will be there till the end of the world.”
“He convinced me,” Erikson said. “Or I wouldn’t be here. He also said that you would advance the stake to finance the recovery.” I didn’t say anything. “We’d assemble in Key West,” Erikson continued. “I’ll get us onto the naval base there and from the base to Guantanamo with forged orders. We’ll break out from Gitmo through the U.S. and Cuban fortifications into the interior and from there make our way to Havana. One member of our group knows a place for us to stay in Havana that he claims is safe. He also has a fast fishing cruiser and a first mate who will make the run from the Keys to the vicinity for our pickup when we have the cash.”
It didn’t sound enthralling. “We fight our way from Guantanamo to Havana through the Cuban army?”
“It should be more subtle than that.” Erikson leaned forward and helped himself to one of Slater’s cigarettes. He tapped it several times on the back of his wrist. His way of talking with his entire attitude indicated a man who had confidence in himself. “Although nobody ever said this project would be a Methodist tea. Slater vouched for you, and I’ll vouch for our fourth man. Slater will—”
“I know you think your pick is prob’ly hell on wheels,” Slater broke in, “but Drake an’ I could find us a fourth man who’d be for real.”
“No,” Erikson said. “My man already has a suitable boat, for one thing. And I’m not about to line myself up one against three on a proposition like this.”
“I still think—” Slater tried again.
“No.” Erikson cut him off with finality.
I found Erikson’s one-against-three remark interesting. I’d been thinking of myself as one against three if I took on the project. Now here was Erikson putting Slater on my side. If Slater stayed lined up permanently on any side, he’d changed from the Slater I knew.
Erikson’s hard blue eyes were upon me again. “About financing the project,” he said. “We’ll need a headquarters in Key West. A deposit on the boat. Arms. Quite a lot of arms and ammunition. Naval uniforms and gear to enable us to play the part while we’re getting to Guantanamo. Cuban uniforms to get us to Havana. A first-class shortwave receiving station in Key West and a first-class backpack transceiver to take with us. Around fifty thousand dollars in working capital, in other words. Do you have the money?”
I didn’t have $5,000. “He always has the money,” Slater answered for me before I could find out what kind of liar I was.
There were still some things I wanted settled. “We’ll be setting up the shortwave receiving station in the Key West headquarters, I take it?” I asked Erikson.
“Not necessarily. It could go in the boat.”
I was beginning to get the shape of an idea. “I’d rather see it on dry land.”
“That would mean another operator if it wasn’t the cruiser’s first mate who was monitoring the channel.”
“I’ll supply the operator.”
“No,” Erikson said. He said no in the manner of a man who has had a lot of practice saying it. “We don’t need—”
“He’s sayin’ he wants someone watchin’ his back while we’re still on the mainland,” Slater interrupted. “Right?” he said to me.
“Right.” I fixed Erikson with as hard a stare as I could manage. “I’d like to make certain that it’s not just my money that gets to Cuba.” Erikson hesitated. “Take it or leave it.”
“I might leave it,” he warned. “I see no reason—” He broke off and started over again. “Let’s sleep on it.” His voice overrode Slater’s when Slater tried to speak. “We’ll meet here again day after tomorrow.”
Slater muttered something under his breath, but I had no objection. I figured that Erikson had his own reason for the adjournment, probably a desire to check me out, if possible. I had no qualms on that score. Mr. Erikson would run into a brick wall. “Day after tomorrow it is,” I said.
“Same time,” Erikson said shortly. He made Slater leave the room first and followed five minutes later himself.
The ex-Navy man evidently didn’t want Slater and me to put our heads together again.
Among the members of the proposed group I’d met so far, the element of trust seemed to be in short supply.
I thought the whole thing over while I went downstairs to dinner.
I didn’t have the cash, and with two fast-knitting but still-broken fingers on my left hand, I had little enthusiasm for making a solo play to get it.
I didn’t have the money, but Hazel did.
I knew that she could run a boat and that she could navigate.
She could learn to operate a shortwave receiver.
Wit
h the touchy kind of project this one was apt to turn into, I’d need all the insurance I could get.
If she took any interest at all, Hazel could supply several different kinds of insurance.
CHAPTER FOUR
I DROVE OUT to the airport at twelve thirty A.M. to pick up Hazel. I stayed in the shadows across a strip of macadam that separated the floodlighted cabstand from the parking lot. When Hazel appeared, I watched for five minutes while she strolled up and down the platform, fending off starters and cabbies. I wanted to be sure she hadn’t been followed. Then I waved to her. She spotted me in the parking lot and crossed the road to join me.
“I was beginning to wonder if I’d made the trip for nothing,” she said as I took her bag from her. She slipped her arm through mine.
“Not a chance. How are things up north?”
“Quiet, except for the sheriff. He’s getting heat from the parents of the kids, so he’s throwing some of it off. He came out to the ranch whining that he was going to send them to talk to me. I told him that if he did, I’d tell them to talk to Ned Higginbotham. Ned’s the undertaker who laid out Gunnar, and Ned had a few things to say about the condition of the body. Nobody ever showed up at the ranch.” She nudged me in the ribs. “How do you like this store-boughten outfit?”
She had on a bright green dress that somehow didn’t clash with her bright red hair. “Too much of it,” I said as I opened the car door for her. She smiled. “You’ll need an alias to use at the hotel while you’re registered.”
“How about Belinda Bigteats?”
“Very appropriate.”
“Why do I need a separate room?” she pouted.
“Because hotels don’t care what kind of an orgy is going on as long as everyone in the orgy is paying for a separate room. You may not even get to see the inside of yours.”
“That sounds better.”
Walking through the lobby of the Aztec, I paused at the entrance to the cocktail lounge. “Want a drink before we go upstairs?”
Operation Fireball Page 4