“Then why is nobody shooting at us?” Gigi asked.
“Because they want us— me—alive,” Larry replied, looking at the chart in his hand. “There’s a flashing buoy where we turn left for Stuart. When we get there, stick with me; they’re not looking for a couple.”
Gigi got out her cell phone and pressed a speed-dial button.
61
MANNY FELT HIS cell phone vibrate, and he pressed a button on his Bluetooth earpiece. “Yes?” he said.
“It’s Gigi,” she shouted over the whine of the outboard motor. “It was a setup; we’re running for Stuart Harbor, and we’ll make our way home from there.”
“I understand.” Manny hung up, reached into his inside coat pocket, extracted a sheet of paper and handed it to Evan. Evan unfolded the sheet and read: “There’s a gun on you, so don’t say a word or do anything I don’t tell you. The job is done. Open your briefcase on the seat beside you, and hand me the money under the table. Don’t be obvious. Then leave the briefcase there, get up and go to the men’s room, down the hall ahead of you, to your right. Stay there for five minutes, then do anything you like. Nod to tell me you understand.”
Evan nodded, opened the briefcase and handed over the envelope with the money. Manny checked it without lowering his head, then put the sheet of paper back into his pocket and nodded. Evan got up, and went to the men’s room.
As soon as he left, Manny slid out of the booth, walked around the screen behind him, opened the back door to an alley and got into a waiting car, driven by his secretary. “Go,” he said. She drove fast down the alley, made a right, then a left, and stopped.
“Go straight home; you’ve been there all evening. There’ll be people at the offi ce tomorrow. Play dumb, and hang on to the box I gave you.” He took a bundle of cash from the envelope and handed her the rest. “Put this in the box and seal it; I’ll call you in a couple of days on your cell with instructions on where to send it. See you later,” Manny said. He got out of the car and into a dark blue sedan, not his own. Five minutes later he was off the island, headed for Miami International Airport and a flight to Mexico, where he owned a house.
HALF A BLOCK from the Steak Shack, Stone and Dino watched as two carloads of men poured onto the sidewalk and ran inside the restaurant.
“That’s it for Manny,” Dino said.
Stone’s cell phone buzzed, and he opened it. “Yeah?”
“It’s Evan. Manny got the call, I gave him the money and he sent me to the men’s room. What’s going on?”
“The state cops are all over him,” Stone said. “We’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up. “Let’s go,” he said to Dino. They arrived inside the restaurant to see a lot of men standing around, talking on cell phones.
“Look for a gray Toyota,” one of them within earshot was saying.
“Woman driver.”
Stone went over to the booth where Evan was talking with a man in a suit. “What happened?” he asked. “Where’s Manny?”
Evan gave him a big shrug. “He handed me a note with instructions, I gave him the money and went to the men’s room. When I came back he was gone. The note said the job was done.”
“Shit,” Stone said.
GIGI MOTORED INTO Stuart Harbor faster than the law allowed.
“Head for the Pirate’s Cove Hotel Marina,” Larry said, pointing at a sign. “Pull up next to a ladder.”
She did so and climbed up the ladder.
Larry switched off the engine, and while holding on to the ladder with one hand and his duffel with the other, pushed the Whaler under the dock. “Walk, don’t run,” he said. “Hold my hand, and make conversation. Laugh.”
She did as she was told. They walked ashore and to the hotel’s garage.
“Look for something older, something eighties or nineties,” he said. She pointed at an elderly Lincoln Continental, and she followed his directions and got behind the wheel.
It took Larry less than half a minute to hotwire the car. “Back out and go slowly up the driveway,” he said. “Take your first left, then your fi rst right.”
Shortly, they were on A1A, driving south. Larry produced a cell phone and made a call. “Hello, sugar,” he said, “Plan B. Meet me at the place in fi fteen minutes.” He hung up. “That was my wife,” he said. “We’re going to dump this car a few miles down the road, then we’ll head south in our car. We’ll drop you in Florida City, where you can get a cab to Key Largo and your boat.”
“Okay,” she said. “Nobody knows where I am, so I can just say I’ve been on the boat the whole time.”
“That’s the girl,” Larry said.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATE R he said, “Turn right, and drive behind the filling station.” The station was dark, having been closed for months.
She followed his instructions.
“Stop here,” he said, “and flash your lights, then shut it down.”
She did so, and a car across the street flashed its lights.
“You’ve got your money, right?”
“Right here in my bag,” she said.
Larry raised his hand and shot her once in the head, then he opened her bag, removed the money and put it into his duffel. Taking her bag with him, he got out of the car, wiped down the areas he had touched, ran across the street and got into the car.
“Hey, sugar,” he said, kissing her. “Stop at the first Dumpster you see; I want to get rid of something.” A couple of minutes later she did, and he tossed Gigi’s bag away. “Okay,” he said, “let’s head for the Everglades.”
“Is the girl not coming?” his wife asked.
“She didn’t make it,” Larry said. “She knew my name.”
“So does Manny,” she reminded him.
“If he got out, it won’t matter,” he said. “We’ll watch the news for a while before we go home.”
An hour later, they were comfortably ensconced in the little cabin in the swamp.
MANNY ABANDONED THE car in long-term parking, after wiping it down, and took the bus to the terminal, wheeling the suitcase he had in the trunk.
He approached the AeroMexico counter.
“May I help you, señor?” the young woman asked.
“Are there still seats on the ten o’clock flight to Mexico City?”
She tapped a few computer keys. “We have only one fi rst-class seat,” she said.
“That will do nicely,” Manny said, taking out his wallet. “Oh, God,” he said, sliding the license across the counter, “I’ve left my credit card at home. Will cash be all right?” He slid his fake passport across the counter.
“Of course, señor,” she replied.
He took some hundreds from the packet of Evan’s money in his inside pocket and counted out the money.
She gave him his change and printed out the boarding pass. “Any luggage to check?” she asked.
“Just my carry-on,” he replied.
“Your fl ight will be boarding in forty minutes, señor,” she said.
“Gate sixteen, to your right.”
“Thank you, señora,” Manny said. He grabbed the handle of his bag and made his way through the crowd. He stood in the security line for ten minutes, then emptied his pockets of everything metal and set his carry-on on the conveyor belt for X-raying. At a signal from the security guard, he stepped through the metal detector. A soft beep sounded.
“Sir,” the guard said, “please step back, remove your shoes, put them on the conveyor belt and step through again. Swearing under his breath, Manny followed his instructions. On his second trip through the metal detector it beeped again.
“Sir,” the guard said, “please remove your jacket and hand it to me.”