Chapter 38
THE LOCKBOX
Rebekah insisted she go with me to the airport. I didn't resist as I was anxious to get going. It was early afternoon and it was a forty-five-minute drive to DFW from our home. As we were driving, I gave her a word by word account of my conversation with Mo. It sounded even more bizarre when I repeated it.
"Why would someone want you dead?" Rebekah asked.
"I don't know. I'm supposed to read the newspaper to figure it out."
"The newspaper. What's in the newspaper?"
"It's got to be something to do with Iran-Contra hearings."
"Oh, I've been watching them on TV. What did Huntington have to do with them?"
"I'm not sure. It appears he was selling arms to Iran. Luther Palmer was in on the deal too. Huntington told me Palmer was in Beijing but he must have been in Iran."
"So, maybe Huntington knew too much," Rebekah suggested.
I nodded. "I think you're right. Maybe the CIA needed to get rid of him so that he couldn't testify."
"And that's why they want to get rid of you. They're afraid Huntington might have told you something."
"He didn't tell me squat."
"But they don't know that. I'm so worried. What if they try to kill you again? What if there is a bomb in the locker at the airport."
"No. I can trust Mo."
"I don't know. Maybe you should call Detective Besch."
"No, Mo said explicitly not to tell anyone about the call."
"But there may be a bomb in there!"
"I don't think so. I think Mo was just warning me to back off for my own safety."
"Stan. You can't open that locker," Rebekah pleaded.
"It's okay. I think it's just some money."
"But can you take it?"
"I don't know. It's not like I did something illegal."
"But you might be participating in something illegal and not even know it."
"Then, I lack mens rea."
"Mens what?"
"Intent. I don't have any criminal intent."
"Let's just turn around and go home."
"No, we've come this far. Let's just see what's in the locker."
Traffic was light at DFW and it didn't take us long to get to Gate 22 in Terminal A. Rebekah continued to try to persuade me to call Detective Besch but my gut feeling told me it was okay. Rebekah refused to follow me to the locker. She stayed thirty yards away when I opened it. When I looked over at her, she was biting her fingernails.
Sweat was beading on my forehead as I placed the key in the lock. I held my breath and started to turn it.
"No, don't!" Rebekah screamed.
I looked over my shoulder and Rebekah was running toward me. The lady next to me turned quickly and looked at Rebekah like she was crazy. I turned the key, opened the locker, and pulled out a small navy blue sports bag. I looked around and saw that people were staring at us. I took Rebekah's hand and walked a little way away.
"I should have left you at home," I said.
We found two seats off in a corner and I opened the bag.
"It looks to be about a hundred grand in cash," I said.
"A hundred thousand dollars?"
"That's just a rough estimate."
"But why so much?"
"I don't know. I guess they really want me to keep my mouth shut.'
"What are you going to do?"
"Put this in a safety deposit box for safe keeping, I guess, until I can sort things out."
On the way home Rebekah was very quiet. I felt bad about what had happened and having put her through so much trauma. I prayed I'd never hear from Robert Huntington or the CIA again. I took her hand and squeezed it gently.
"I'm sorry, honey. I should have just left the money in the locker."
She looked away. There was a moment of silence. Then she said firmly, "No. You're right. You couldn't have done that. They blew up your car and almost got you killed for godsakes. You deserve that money."
I smiled and replied, "Okay, then. We'll keep it. I was worried about how I was going to pay for my new 300ZX. Now I can pay cash for it."
"That's fine, but we need to put the rest of it in the kid's college fund."
I laughed. "What college fund?"
"Exactly. We need to start a college fund."
"Fine with me. That will be one less problem we'll have to worry about."
She took a deep breath and laid her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her without taking my eyes off the road. She sighed and said, "Promise me all the excitement is over?"
I squeezed her and said, "Everything is going to be fine, honey. Don't worry."
As we continued down the road, I prayed my optimism would prove to be well founded. Deep down, however, I wasn't so sure. If we continued our investigation of Congressman Manning and Speaker Potts, we'd soon have to deal with a whole new set of enemies.
Black Monday, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 7 Page 38