by George Jehn
. . .
They entered the eatery as Montgomery was putting his tray on the noisy conveyor belt. “Hey, where were you guys?” he innocently asked.
Christina immediately responded, “Erik was on the phone with his girlfriend. I made the mistake of standing close and all I could hear was, yes dear, no dear.” He’s henpecked and not even married.” Pointing to Woody’s tray, she told him, “Glad you didn’t wait for us. We’ll grab a quick takeout.”
“Okay. I’ll return and get the clearance.” And turning to Erik offered, “And I’ll do your pre-flight inspection, again.”
“Thanks.” As Woody hurried back to the plane, Christina watched him, thinking they definitely did not want to use him.
. . .
Per what had become the norm, there was a delay waiting for connecting passengers. But this time Erik peered through the small peephole in the fortified cockpit door, taking note of the tall, dark-haired male passenger Christina had described taking seat 3-D. Outside, the moonlit, low wispy clouds with dim stars barely visible behind them were quickly replaced with fog and a ghostlike curtain dropped over the entire airport. As they taxied for takeoff on runway 22 Right Erik found himself wishing the entire thing was over.
Christina’s mind was also busy wondering what would be the best method to rendezvous with Juni. After his grandmother’s birthday party, David had mentioned something about a family picnic, which might provide the opportunity?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
When Christina arrived home from work David was in the process of wiring something.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s the new sound stereo system I mentioned a while back. It can be used for music and the TV.”
“Let me guess; you put it on my credit card?”
“Yes. You didn’t say—”
“While I’m thinking of it,” she interrupted with a more important item now on her mind and a feigned smile on her face. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how much I enjoyed your grandmother’s birthday party.”
“From the feedback, everyone liked you too.”
“Didn’t you mention there was going to be another get-together soon, a picnic or something?”
“It’s this Saturday at my Uncle Danny’s beach house.”
“That sounds like fun and I’m off. Wanna go?”
“Sure.”
On Saturday they drove to the gathering held at a modest, three-room bungalow located just a few short blocks from the Atlantic Ocean on Rockaway Beach. It was a warm, bright day and Christina purposely wore a pair of cut-off, tight-fitting shorts. David told her, “Wow! Every member of my family is going to notice you.”
“Hey, we are going to the beach.” Christina was interested in getting only one person’s attention. Forty-five minutes later they pulled up in front of the cottage in one of Long Island’s few remaining Italian and Jewish ethnic seaside bastions. These two diverse, yet in many ways similar cultures had coexisted peacefully for years. Aside from the hi-rise apartments built along the beach, the community consisted of old wooden row houses constructed a long time ago. It appeared as though about half had been either meticulously maintained in their original condition or torn down and replaced by gaudy Mc Mansions. David’s uncle’s place fit the former description. They went around the back of the small home where there was a tiny concrete yard and the only hint of soil was a small tomato garden in a sunny corner. The person she wanted to see, Juni Rosario gave her a peck on the cheek and asked, “How you been?”
“Good.” David wasn’t close by, so she whispered, “I’d like to speak with you, privately.”
“OK…but let’s wait a bit,” Juni stammered, while eyeballing her skimpy outfit. “There would be lots of explaining if we just up and left. I’ll signal you and then meet me on the boardwalk where it’s crowded.”
A smiling Christina nodded her head.
. . .
It was a perfect day for a beach outing, one of those comfortable yet warm New York summer days, with the moist and lazy sea breeze just strong enough to move the dry summer landside heat aside, eliciting mere whispers as the cooler air softly flowed through the entire area. The sky was clear and the air smelled sweet, like the water. It would only be a short time until the insufferable New York heat and humidity settled in for its annual stay, grasp the land by the throat and squeeze it until days like this would become a memory.
The luncheon menu consisted of tasty homemade Italian meatballs with fried eggplant. She and David next decided to go for a swim, so Christina shed the shorts, revealing a skimpy bikini. As if to compete, David slipped into his Speedo, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. They swam in water feeling like a cool blast of icy air wherever it touched the skin, helping to rejuvenate bodies grown lethargic from all the rich food. Next, a softball game was organized with another beach group. Since she wasn’t interested, Christina put on her tank top and headed for the house, leaving David to flex his muscles and play ball. About halfway back she saw Juni walking in her direction. He almost imperceptibly nodded his head while passing. Christina casually changed course and once on the boardwalk looked, but didn’t spot him. Had she misread the cue? An instant later the short man, wearing sunglasses so dark his eyes resembled two black holes, was standing right beside her.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“Never mind.”
Christina thought how much their outfits clashed. Her chartreuse-colored bikini bottom and tank top might garner attention, but Juni’s black pants and stark white shirt, his way of remaining unobtrusive, made him even more conspicuous. He would be more in place walking the streets in New York’s Little Italy in February.
“Let’s stroll a bit,” he suggested. They walked on the boardwalk beachside from the apartments that effectively walled off the beach. Young teenaged boys, rolling through summer on their bikes continually passed them. Others lounged on the benches looking at unconcealed legs, low-cut tops and short-shorts hoping to afford a quick peek. At first she and Juni simply took in the sights; the people and fast-food eateries. Neither uttered a word and their visual spectacle was completed by the summertime mélange of cotton candy and popcorn intermingling with the ocean scent and uncollected trash.
Juni finally spoke. “What’s so important we have to meet this way?” wondering what Christina’s reply might be.
From the little David had told her she thought it would be best to act businesslike and get right to the point. “Even though you and I have only met once before, on the drive home the night after your mother’s party David told me you once worked for a bank and you either quit or were forced out over some missing money...”
Juni removed his sunglasses and looked deeply into Christina’s blue eyes. His were so angry she felt as though they might singe her hair. “He oughta know better.”
“I normally wouldn’t give it a second thought, until recently. I’m only interested in the future, our futures, yours and mine. I need you for a deal where we stand to make a lot.”
“Define a lot.”
“For now, let’s figure approximately three quarters of a million each.”
“I’m all ears.”
They immediately resumed walking, but much slower.
“You gotta promise whatever I tell you stays between us.”
“That goes without saying.”
Christina spoke as they ambled, relating details from her divorces and alimony payments, to Erik’s bank payments, to the perceived threats to Shuttle Air’s future. She purposely omitted her epilepsy or Laurel. He concurred with her concerns about Shuttle Air as she provided a see
mingly rapt Juni with the particulars, including the fact that the Boston supervisor who entered the delay code had also recommended the airline not renew the contract with the government after it expired in September. “That means we have to move quickly.”
Juni asked, “At this point is anyone else other than you and this second officer involved?”
“No.”
“Under no circumstances are you to tell David anything. If he happened to notice us speaking or says anything, threaten to cut him off.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle him.” She waited a moment. “Does this mean you’re in?”
“Not yet,” came the immediate reply, “although I must admit what you outlined intrigues me. But, I can’t commit right now.”
“Why not?”
“What kind of person do you think I am? I run a legitimate business and have a wife and two kids to support.”
“But I thought...”
“You thought what? That crap David told you about? You don’t even know if this will work.”
“It’ll work; with or without you,” she crossly replied, now walking behind him.
After a few moments of awkward silence a frowning Juni spun around stopped, dropped his fake mask and allowed some humanity to show through. “The possibilities are enticing and I can use the dough...”
“It’s the perfect crime,” an uplifted Christina interjected.
“Perfect crime? Perfect marriage? No such things. When it comes to crimes there are only good ones, well planned out ahead of time so the chances of getting caught are minimal. Arrogance only leads to mistakes. With today’s technologies even clever isn’t good enough ‘cause there’s always one small chance somethin’ will be overlooked, no matter how trivial it might seem. I may become involved, but first have to fly to Boston and scope out the area. Gimme me your phone number and if everything works out I’ll get back with you to set up a meeting.”
Christina provided her home number and then removed two maps from her beach bag. “I brought these Boston airport charts in case you were interested.”
Juni seemed to relax just a bit and put an arm around her delicate shoulders. He laid the maps on the boardwalk railing and looked at them. “You know you’ll be prime suspects?”
“If we play our cards right that’s all we’ll be, suspects.”
He liked this woman for more than the obvious reasons. She didn’t seem to have her nose in the air and her feet were firmly planted on the ground. “Sure you ain’t Italian?”
Christina chuckled. “I’m more akin to D.B. Cooper; the guy who hijacked a Northwest 727 back in ‘71, got two-hundred grand in ransom and parachuted out somewhere over the state of Washington, never to be seen or heard from. The cops never discovered his identity. There was lots of speculation, but they had nothing. In this case there should be lots of suspects if we play our cards right.”
“Cooper was a solo operation. But remember, in this case if the cops really suspect your involvement they’ll try everything, including playing you off against each other.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’ll tell you stuff like the other pilot confessed. Or tell you he cut a deal and fed you to them, or maybe the other way around? They can and will lie to you. Tricks are a part of the cops’ game, so don’t fall for their ploys, no matter what they say. The government is allowed to bend all the rules. Consider anything they say to be a lie, ‘cause if they do something like that it will only be a gimmick. Be certain you relay this to the second officer.”
“That’s pretty scary. But we will need a credible way to account for the money.”
“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself.” After a moment Juni added, “Remember, you can’t go throwing money around because unlike Cooper you’ll get nailed. And if you get caught the chances are good I will—if I’m involved.” A fierce darkness came into his eyes again. “You have to launder your shares correctly. I might be able to help ‘cause I still have some contacts in the banking business. I’ll get back to you on that one.”
She handed him a small piece of paper with some telephone numbers.
“What’s this?”
“It’s the second officer, Erik Preis’ home number. He only recently hired on. I also included our work number, the operations offices at both LaGuardia and Boston. If you phone either of us only use a pay phone.”
“I make most calls that way. Since you brought it up, like I’ve said, if you have one, never call to or from a cellphone.” I’ve heard they’re easy to trace. The cops will probably wire your home phones. They’ll get a court order, go back months and check all your calls, and absolutely no emails. Those are the simplest to trace. You’ll be my primary contact. What’s the best time to reach you at work? That would probably be the best place to contact you.”
“We fly the afternoon and evening Shuttles and the first departs at three. We check in at two, so call between two and two-thirty.” She rattled off the operations number and he jotted it down. “If you reach me on the job, tell whoever answers you’re the flight dispatcher and want to speak with Captain Shepard. Dispatchers are FAA-licensed and do all the flight planning and weather checking. They frequently call so no one will be the wiser. In an emergency you can normally reach me at home either before eleven in the morning or after eleven at night.”
“I’d rather not do that because of David.”
She nodded her head in agreement. “Another important thing we haven’t decided is whether or not to bring in the copilot. Mull that over.”
“What’s this guy like? Is he smart or the type who thinks he has to study for a urine test? Do we need him? Can we trust ‘em?”
“I don’t trust him one bit,” she said, while handing him a small spiral pad.
“What’s this?”
“I jotted down my ideas in it. When you’re done, destroy it. I feel uncomfortable having it around David.”
“No problem,” Juni said, placing the small pad in his trouser pocket. “I’ll get back to you as quickly as possible.”
“When?”
“It won’t be long.”
They shook hands and Christina immediately returned to the house, while Juni lingered so they wouldn’t show up together. Leaning against the wooden boardwalk railing he fired up another Marlboro while staring out at the cobalt expanse of water that looked like an unfurled tapestry. Juni was uncertain of his involvement with this attractive lady as her waspy appearance rekindled old memories of his fellow students during his college days. A number had initially sought him out, fascinated with his background. He responded with some bogus accounts of life growing up on the dirty Brooklyn streets, but belatedly realized this information was being used against him. Instead of the anticipated interest came overheard remarks like lowlife, greaseball and wop. Between those comments and what happened at the bank he found it difficult to trust this kind. He’d be willing to bet by now almost every one of those college and bank pricks had been divorced once or twice and had difficulty sleeping or serious stomach or heart problems. His insides began churning and he became angry. “With or without this job some day I’ll have more than all of them,” he mumbled to himself as he flipped his butt onto the beach sand and returned to the party.
Christina felt Juni would come aboard, but wished she knew for certain because the time factor was crucial. If he didn’t, she’d hopefully be able to find someone else. She purposely avoided him and spent the remainder of the day and early evening with David. For dinner there were platters of antipasti, baked lasagna and stuffed fettuccini, followed by four types of charcoal grilled, mouthwatering Italian sausage served over a bed of fresh, sliced home grown tomatoes. After dinner came the usual card game, thi
s time under the open air tiny, illuminated hanging paper lanterns. Goodbyes were exchanged about an hour later and while driving home a pensive David asked, “Where did you go while I was playing ball? I couldn’t find you.”
“I walked to the beach to try and clear my mind. This epilepsy stuff is like a ticking time bomb.”
David said nothing. Once home, he immediately led her into the bedroom. “It was nice today. My family members are getting to know you and a few mentioned you looked very hot in your bikini. But you would look even better with everything off,” he said as he began unfastening her blouse.
Christina didn’t hear another word. The money was the only thing on her mind.
. . .
On her next workday Christina overheard a conversation taking place in the Boston operations office between two ground supervisors that alarmed her. A number of passengers’ valuables had been reported missing and they discussed how a sting was being set up because they believed it might be an inside job. She couldn’t tell if they were speaking about Boston or LaGuardia and attempted to eavesdrop, but was unsuccessful. She went to the pay phone and immediately called David’s cellphone, the one she was paying the bills for. When he picked up she told him what they were planning.
“I don’t think Boston people would be discussing anything that happened in New York,” he told her.
“They might if the passengers boarded in Boston.”
“Thanks for the info.”
On the final leg she maneuvered the big jet into the gate at LaGuardia, but David wasn’t visible and Christina arrived home a bit later. The place was deserted. She rushed to the door when she heard him drive up. “I hope you didn’t try anything.”
“Not after what you said. But when things die down, I will.”