NEW YORK CITY
Raymond felt better than he had in days. Things seemed to have gone well from the moment he’d gotten up. Just after nine he’d called Dr. Waller Anderson, and not only was the doctor going to join, he already had two clients ready to plunk down their deposits and head out to the Bahamas for the bone marrow aspirations.
Then around noon Raymond had gotten a call from Dr. Alice Norwood, whose office was on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. She’d called to say that she’d recruited three physicians with large private practices who were eager to come on board. One was in Century City, another in Brentwood, and the last was in Bel-Air. She was convinced that these doctors would soon provide a flood of clients because the market on the West Coast for the service Raymond was offering was nothing short of phenomenal.
But what had pleased Raymond the most during the day was whom he didn’t hear from. There were no calls from either Vinnie Dominick or Dr. Daniel Levitz. Raymond took this silence to mean that the Franconi business had finally been put to bed.
At three-thirty, the door buzzer went off. Darlene answered it and with a tearful voice told Raymond that his car was waiting.
Raymond took his girlfriend in his arms and patted her on the back. “Next time maybe you can go,” Raymond said consolingly.
“Really?” she asked.
“I can’t guarantee it,” Raymond said. “But we’ll try.” Raymond had no control over the GenSys flights. Darlene had been able to go on only one of the trips to Cogo. On all the other occasions, the plane had been full on one of the segments. As standard procedure, the plane flew from the States to Europe and then on to Bata. On the return trip the same general itinerary was followed, although it was always a different European city.
After promising to call as soon as he arrived in Cogo, Raymond carried his bag downstairs. He climbed into the waiting sedan and luxuriously leaned back.
“Would you like the radio on, sir?” the driver asked.
“Sure, why not,” Raymond said. He was already beginning to enjoy himself.
The drive across town was the most difficult part of the trip. Once they were on the West Side Highway, they were able to make good time. There was a lot of traffic, but since rush hour had not begun, the traffic moved fluidly. It was the same situation on the George Washington Bridge. In less than an hour Raymond was dropped off at Teterboro Airport.
The GenSys plane had not yet arrived, but Raymond was not concerned. He positioned himself in the lounge, where he had a view of the runway and ordered himself a scotch. Just as he was being served, the sleek GenSys jet swooped in low out of the clouds and touched down. It taxied over to a position directly in front of Raymond.
It was a beautiful aircraft painted white with a red stripe along its side. Its only markings were its call sign, N69SU, and a tiny American flag. Both were on the fin of the tail assembly.
As if in slow motion, a forward door opened and self-contained steps extended down toward the tarmac. An impeccably dressed steward in dark-blue livery appeared in the doorway, descended the stairs and entered the general aviation building. His name was Roger Perry. Raymond remembered him well. Along with another steward named Jasper Devereau, he’d been on the plane every trip Raymond had made.
Once inside the building, Roger scanned the lounge. The moment he spotted Raymond, he walked over and greeted him with a salute.
“Is this the extent of your luggage, sir?” Roger asked as he picked up Raymond’s bag.
“That’s it,” Raymond said. “Are we leaving already? Isn’t the plane going to refuel?” That had been the procedure on previous flights.
“We’re all set,” Roger said.
Raymond got to his feet and followed the steward out into the gray, raw March afternoon. As he approached the luxurious private jet, Raymond hoped there were people watching him. At times like this, he felt as if he were living the life that was meant for him. He even told himself that he was lucky he’d lost his medical license.
“Tell me, Roger,” Raymond called out just before they reached the stairs. “Are we full on the flight to Europe?” On every flight Raymond had been on, there’d been other GenSys executives.
“Only one other passenger,” Roger said. He stepped to the side at the base of the stairs and gestured for Raymond to precede him.
Raymond smiled as he climbed. With only one other passenger and two stewards, the flight was going to be even more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. The troubles that he’d had over the previous few days seemed a small price to pay for such luxury.
Just inside the plane, he was met by Jasper. Jasper took his overcoat and jacket and asked if Raymond wanted a drink before takeoff.
“I’ll wait,” Raymond said gallantly.
Jasper pulled aside the drape that separated the galley from the cabin. Swelling with pride, Raymond passed into the main part of the plane. He was debating which of the deeply cushioned leather chairs to take when his eyes passed over the face of the other passenger. Raymond froze. At the same time, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut.
“Hello, Dr. Lyons. Welcome aboard.”
“Taylor Cabot!” Raymond croaked. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I suppose not,” Taylor said. “I’m surprised to see myself.” He smiled and gestured toward the seat next to him.
Raymond quickly sat down. He berated himself for not taking the drink Jasper had offered. His throat had gone bone-dry.
“I’d been informed of the plane’s flight plan,” Taylor explained, “and since there was a window of opportunity in my schedule, I thought it wise for me to personally check on our Cogo operation. It was a last-minute decision. Of course, we’ll be making a stop in Zurich for me to have a short meeting with some bankers. I hope you won’t find that inconvenient.”
Raymond shook his head. “No, not at all,” he stammered.
“And how are things going with the bonobo project?” Taylor asked.
“Very well,” Raymond managed. “We’re expecting a number of new clients. In fact, we’re having trouble keeping up with demand.”
“And what about that regrettable episode with Carlo Franconi?” Taylor enquired. “I trust that has been successfully dealt with.”
“Yes, of course,” Raymond sputtered. He tried to smile.
“Part of the reason I’m making this trip is to be reassured that project is worth supporting,” Taylor said. “My chief financial officer assures me that it is now turning a small profit. But my operations officer has reservations about jeopardizing our primate research business. So, I have to make a decision. I hope you will be willing to help me.”
“Certainly,” Raymond squeaked, as he heard the characteristic whine of the jet engines starting.
It was like a party at the bar in the international departure lounge at JFK airport. Even Lou was there having a beer and popping peanuts into his mouth. He was in a great mood and acted as if he were going on the trip.
Jack, Laurie, Warren, Natalie, and Esteban were sitting with Lou at a round table in the corner of the bar. Over their heads was a television tuned to a hockey game. The frantic voice of the announcer and the roar of the fans added to the general din.
“It’s been a great day,” Lou yelled to Jack and Laurie. “We picked up Vido Delbario, and he’s singing to save his ass. I think we’ll be making a major dent in the Vaccarro organization.”
“What about Angelo Facciolo and Franco Ponti?” Laurie asked.
“That’s another story,” Lou said with a laugh. “For once the judge sided with us and set bail at two million each. What did the trick was the police impersonation charge.”
“How about Spoletto Funeral Home?” Laurie asked.
“That’s going to be a gold mine,” Lou said. “The owner is the brother of the wife of Vinnie Dominick. You remember him, don’t you, Laurie?”