Sleeping in those conditions wasn't possible, at least for me. I was lying awake, holding on so I didn't get tossed from my berth. To pass the time, I thought through my situation vis-à-vis Mary and my client.
While I was sailing along with the autopilot on this afternoon, I composed a response to Mary. I kept it generic.
Glad to hear from you. I'm doing well. I've been away from Island Girl for a couple of days, but I'll be back aboard tomorrow. Don't worry about the family records; I have a copy. Your copy's where you left it.
I'm not surprised at the size of your family. Guess it's that Irish Catholic thing, huh? I've heard more rumors about that foreign-born person we were talking about. He's got an interesting background. I'll tell you more when I see you.
Speaking of getting together, my time is yours. I just finished up a little business, and I don't have anything on my agenda. Would love to see you. Time and place of your choosing. Keep me posted and allow time for me to sail if you want to reconnect on the boat. I'll be back aboard tomorrow night, but she's two day's sailing east of our old place. Let me know where to meet you; lots to catch up on.
As for my other female correspondent, I was in something of a quandary. There were other ways for us to communicate besides the satellite phone. She cautioned me against using them. That was a red flag; had she not said that, I would have already been in touch with her. Reading between the lines, I was on my own until I heard from her again.
That made me a free agent, for the moment. If something happened to her, her boss would be in touch, but I was in a strictly passive role as far as that was concerned. Her boss knew all about me, but I knew nothing about her boss. Hence my willingness to encourage Mary to count on my help.
That could all change, though, depending on who got to me first. I couldn't hazard a guess as to who would win that race, and I wasn't sure who I would prefer, either.
If Mary won and I cast my lot with her, I would probably be finished with my client. But I didn't know for sure. And at this stage, I didn't know if that was a bad thing.
Severing my ties to my client would be complex, but I wasn't unprepared. I had plenty of money stashed in obscure but accessible places, and several identities my client didn't know about. There was facial identification to worry about, but I knew my way around that pretty well. They would never dare to release my fingerprints. That could cause unimaginable problems for the government, given the places the prints might have been found.
All they could do without embarrassing themselves would be to send somebody to kill me. Given how much I knew about their tricks, I would be a hard target; I was rumored to be their best assassin. Was I willing to risk that for Mary?
I wasn't sure of the answer to that. But I might risk it for the pure fun of it. With Mary on my team, it would be a hell of a game. But I wasn't sure how I would know if Mary was on my team.
That was my first question for her, and I didn't know how she could answer it to my satisfaction. Early on, Mary was less than honest with me.
When I rolled off the settee berth and crashed to the cabin sole, I realized that I somehow fell asleep. Before my mind engaged my problems again, I moved up to the V-berth in the forward cabin, taking a stack of the cushions from the settee with me.
I crawled into the V-berth and arranged the extra cushions to wedge me in place. I guess I fell back asleep, because the next time I opened my eyes, it was getting light outside.
17
Before the first opening of the drawbridge, I went ashore in the dinghy and took care of my inbound clearance with the Dutch authorities. Back on the boat, I ate breakfast before the first scheduled bridge opening. By the time I got through the bridge opening, the charter company was open for business.
After I finished the paperwork to turn in Best Offer, it was mid-morning. As soon as I stepped outside the charter office, my personal cellphone rang. Surprised, I shifted my duffle bag from my right hand, slinging it over my shoulder. I worked the phone from the pocket of my jeans and answered without taking time to check the caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, Finn. Just keep walking out the marina entrance and across the street. Go out onto Kim Sha Beach and walk along like you're looking at the boats in the anchorage. You got my voice yet?"
"Yes." My client.
"Good. Once I'm sure nobody's following you, I'll approach you. Don't look around for me; I'll spot you. Just play along and act surprised when I call out to you." She disconnected the call.
I did as she said. It was a short walk, although I was stuck for a couple of minutes waiting to get across Welfare Road, which crosses the drawbridge. It's a main artery on the Dutch side of the island, and the traffic was still messed up from the bridge opening half an hour ago.
Walking along the beach just above the surf line, I heard her say, "Finn! I can't believe it."
I turned to see a woman about my age approaching me. She was a little above average height, well-tanned. The orange bikini set off her skin tone with a dazzling effect. There was some gauzy-looking orange fabric knotted around her hips. A big straw hat and sunglasses hid her face.
I smiled and nodded.
"You're the last person I expected to run into here," she said. "How have you been? It's been ages since I've seen you."
Yes. Like since never. That's ages, I guess. "I'm doing all right. How have you been?"
"Great," she said. "Even better since I've run into you. Got time to catch up with an old lover?"
"Sure thing," I said.
She stepped in close for a hug and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "It's great to see you."
"You, too," I say. Never would have guessed who this woman was. Not at all what I envisioned. She's —
"Yeah," she said, her voice soft. "Nobody's following you. You think you're clean?"
"Yes."
"Good." She dropped the hug, snaking her right arm around my waist. "Put your left arm around me and let's stroll along the edge of the water. Act the part — two former lovers, maybe thinking about a fling for old time's sake."
As we walked, she said, "You got my text about the phone?"
"I took care of it."
"Good. I have a new one for you. And one for me, too. Both off the books."
"Okay," I said. "Off the books?"
"Yeah. You and I are both off the books, too."
"What's that mean?"
"Well, in your case, it's nothing new. You wouldn't know it, but you've been off the books ever since you retired. No record of anything about you in the active files."
"But…" I shook my head.
She laughed. Her laugh was nice, fun to hear. "Yeah. You're the ultimate deniable asset. You couldn't tell the difference, could you?"
"No. What about the passport? For the girl?"
"You're a legendary figure. People are thrilled to do you favors, even though you're not active any more. Don't over-think it. We have ways to take care of things like that. You'll always be one of us."
"Nice to know." I tried to keep my voice even, but I guess I failed.
"Just roll with it, Finn. Don't get cross."
"Okay. Sorry."
"I understand. This is probably a good time for me to tell you that you're imagining all this; none of it's really happening."
"Does that mean what I think it does?"
"Probably. This whole situation is way beyond classified. I'm not even here. In fact, I'm no longer a government employee. I've been terminated."
"I'm sorry if I caused — "
She paused and stepped around to face me, putting a finger across my lips. "Nothing for you to apologize for. It's all a matter of optics. My boss needed a scapegoat; his boss is livid over this."
"The George Kelley query?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Yes, exactly."
"Sorry you paid the price."
"Not my first time, Finn, and it won't be my last. But I'm history until we get through this. You understand what I mean?"
"Maybe. Who do I report to, if you're out of the loop?"
"You're retired, silly. You don't report to anybody."
"Really?"
"Really. But I could use your help on a purely informal basis."
"What do I call you, anyway?"
"Nora will do. Nora Thomas, if you need more. Okay?"
"Okay, Nora. You're operating on your own?"
"Yes. No government blessing for my actions. That bother you?"
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"You've trusted me for almost 20 years. I've never led you astray, have I?"
"No."
"And you're a man who sizes people up accurately, or you'd be dead by now. So I know you trust your judgment. You in?"
"I think so. There's one thing bothering me, though."
"Mary Elizabeth O'Brien," she said, smiling, a gleam in her eye.
"Yeah. What do you think about her?"
"She's a lucky woman."
"Huh? What do you — "
"If I were a man and you were a woman, I wouldn't dare say this. If I weren't your boss, I'd be giving Mary Elizabeth a run for her money. But I guess I'm safe. You can hardly report me to H.R. for making an inappropriate comment to a male subordinate when we're both unemployed."
"Ha, ha," I said. "I'm serious. I — "
"Hey, Finn! Come on. Let a girl have a little fun. I was just teasing."
"Yeah, sure. That's what they all say. Hashtag Metoo, huh?"
"All right, be that way. I'm sorry."
"I'm not offended; I was just teasing, too. But if you weren't my boss, Mary might have a problem. I pictured you as — "
"Okay, Finn. Shut up. Back to work. We've both had our fun. Maybe we can talk about the other later; we're going to have time together today. Meanwhile, tell me about Mary Elizabeth."
"I assumed you ran a check on her."
"Yeah. And we got a big fat nothing. At least nothing that she didn't put there for somebody to find."
"That's encouraging. I wondered what you'd discover if you ran her. I'm afraid I don't know much more than you do." I gave Nora a quick summary of my history with Mary, from the time I met her until she went on the run in Ste. Anne.
"Interesting," Nora said. "A hired killer, and an attractive woman to boot. I've heard of women in that game, but I always thought they were urban myths."
"She's no myth. She's flesh and bone, and a stone-cold killer."
"But here's the real question, Finn. Do you trust her?"
"Maybe. Under controlled circumstances."
"Can you elaborate?"
"If our interests are the same, I trust her."
"That's about as good as it gets in our business," Nora said.
"Yeah, but it leaves some exposure. She's out there doing her thing. And she wants me to help. I'm not sure what's driving her, so I don't know about the common interests."
"You're in touch with her, then?"
"Yes."
"How much does she know about you?"
"The usual. Retired Army, no details. But she suspects what I did in St. Vincent."
"Suspects?"
"Circumstantial. It happened while I left her alone, and she heard it on the news. The timing fit, and she knew I took the ferry to Kingstown. Plus, she saw me deal with her attackers in Puerto Real."
"You said you just helped her; she did most of the heavy work."
"That's right. But a pro can always spot another pro. It's what keeps us alive."
"Yeah, I can see that. That's okay. If you trust her, you and I could use her help."
"Like I said, I trust her as long as our interests are the same."
"I think they are. I'm not sure she knows that, but it won't take much to convince her."
"Why do you say that?"
"Now we're getting to the sticky part. If I tell you this next bit, there's no backing out, okay? Mary Elizabeth or no Mary Elizabeth. Her participation will be your call, but if you and I keep talking, you're locked in. We clear on that?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's go up to my room. We can get a room service lunch, if you like. I've got things to give you."
18
Nora kept her arm around my waist and walked me to one of the beachfront hotels. An elevator from the beach level took us to a third-floor exterior walkway that looked out over the water.
"Act like you're about to score, Finn," she said, looking up at me with an expectant grin and squeezing my waist.
I did my best. "Somebody watching?"
"You never know. It's best to stay in character. Besides, I like the way it feels. We desk jockeys don't get to do much playacting."
"You're pretty convincing," I said.
She giggled. So much for staying in character. We stopped in front of a room. I was a little nervous when she took a key card out of her bikini top and swiped it through the door's lock.
I needn't have worried. Once the door latched behind us, she was all business. She ditched the hat and the sunglasses and unzipped a carry-on bag that was on a luggage stand. She rummaged for a second and handed me a new satellite phone.
"The unlock procedure's the same as the old one," she said. "But the location tracking is disabled on this one. Are you going back to the BVI this afternoon?"
"I planned to. That okay?"
"Sure. But use this." She handed me a dog-eared passport in the name of John Fincastle. "Like the fort in the Bahamas."
"Any reason to think the one I've been using is compromised?"
"No. It was clean when I checked yesterday. But it never hurts to keep 'em guessing."
I nodded and put the passport in my pocket. I unzipped a hidden pocket inside my duffel bag and put my old passport in there.
She handed me an envelope. "John Fincastle's life story. I'll give you a chance to read it before you leave me."
"Okay."
"You hungry? The food here's good."
"I'm okay. You go ahead."
"I'm going to order for both of us, then," she said, reaching for the room phone. "For appearance's sake."
She ordered two mahi-mahi sandwiches with fries and four Heinekens. When she hung up the phone, she messed up the freshly made bed. "In case the waiter notices," she said.
I nodded, but kept silent.
"Okay, Finn. Have a seat." She gestured at a small round table in the corner and pulled out a chair for herself. "Ready for this?"
"Sure. You said you thought Mary Beth's interests are the same as ours?"
"Mary Beth," she said. "Okay. Not Mary Elizabeth, then. Yeah. The FBI thinks she killed a couple named Dailey in Florida a few months ago. Wealthy property developers, but they were really laundering money for a guy named Rory O'Hanlon. O'Hanlon was a kingpin in the Irish Mafia. He was also Mrs. Dailey's brother."
When she paused, I said, "That matches what I heard, too."
"From Mary Beth?"
"Sort of. She gave me bits and pieces, with some embellishment. Not about killing them, though. She claimed she used to work for them when she was in college and that she found them, dead. Butchered, she said."
"The butchered part's right," Nora said. "What else do you know?"
"What you told me is a good match for what I got from Frankie Dailey. He — "
She held up her hand. "Frankie Dailey? You said something on the phone a while back about him and bad fish, but I wasn't clear on what you meant. He's still missing."
"Yeah. He's going to stay missing." I told her more about my encounter with Frankie in Ste. Anne. "There was another guy with him, but I don't know who he was. Just muscle, not important."
"Frankie Dailey told you O'Hanlon hired Mary Beth to kill his parents? Why would O'Hanlon do that? Mrs. Dailey was his sister."
"Frankie caught them skimming and ratted them out to his uncle, according to what he told me."
"His own parents?"
"Yeah. Nice guy, huh?"
"So your girlfriend butchered them?" she asked.
"Sounds like she may have. Frankie said she was supposed to retrieve the money and a bunch of incriminating files that the Daileys had. The files were locked in a safe. My guess is that she had a little trouble convincing them to give her the combination."
She was quiet for a few seconds, thinking about that.
"The FBI says O'Hanlon and several of his minions were found dead on a yacht named Aeolus in Ste. Anne, Martinique. You know anything about that?" she asked.
"Maybe," I said. "Circumstantial, again, but according to Frankie, O'Hanlon's boys snatched Mary Beth off the street in Ste. Anne. Frankie came to get me; they were going to question both of us. I didn't like the sound of that, so I tied him up and left him on my boat. I went to see if Mary Beth needed help. By the time I got to Aeolus, the local cops were counting the bodies, trying to figure out what happened. I got a text from Mary Beth as I was leaving the scene. She was glad to see I survived my encounter with Frankie. Said she would be in touch when she could. I went back to the boat and finished dealing with Frankie and his pal."
"So you think she killed them? How many were there?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Not enough, apparently."
"I think I like this woman," Nora said. "Sign her up."
"For what?" I asked.
"I don't know yet. You said she was supposed to retrieve some incriminating records?"
"Yeah, and money."
"The money doesn't matter. What do you know about the records?"
"They're in my laptop."
She raised her eyebrows and blinked. "What?"
"In my laptop. You got a memory card?"
She took a cheap cellphone from somewhere in that cloud of fabric around her hips and popped the back off. Using a fingernail, she extracted a microSD card and handed it to me.
I unzipped my duffle bag and retrieved the laptop. It took a couple of minutes to copy the files to her card. I pulled it out of the computer and gave it back to her.
'What's on here?" she asked.
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