by Stuart Woods
“You think he’ll do it?” Dino asked.
“We’re about to find out,” Stone said.
Dino took out his cell phone. “I’m going to go call Wally,” he said, going out onto the screen porch.
Tommy stood up. “And I’m going to go call Mike Levy.”
Evan came back into the living room and sat down. “I made the call; the secretary and my grandfather are both on board.”
“Evan,” Stone said, “have you ever done any acting?”
“Yes, in high school and university theater. I played both leads and character parts.”
“Well,” Stone said, “we’ve got an important role for you.”
“Oh?”
“How much cash do you have on hand?”
“Do I have to pay to play?”
“Only temporarily.”
“I’ve got about sixty thousand in my briefcase. You may remember that I’ve given you forty thousand over the past week. Why don’t we use your money?”
“I’ve already wired it to New York,” Stone lied. “Unlike you, I don’t like to travel with a lot of cash.”
“To each his own,” Evan said. “I’ve always found cash on hand comforting.”
“It just makes me nervous.”
“What kind of role do you want me to play?”
“It’s the lead,” Stone replied.
2 47
54
MANNY WHITE O P E N E D his desk drawer and picked up the throwaway cell phone that was ringing. “Yeah?”
“You know who this is?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said. “I wish you every profi table happiness.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“So how’s the new life?”
“On hold,” she said. “The old, old man has had a stroke, and he’s flown north. You should pull our friend off. He’s very hot here, anyway.”
“Okay. Shall I send him north in pursuit?”
“No. I don’t know how long he’ll be there; he hasn’t called me yet.”
“Call him, then.”
“I can’t; he left in a hurry when I was out, and he forgot his phone.”
“Okay, I’ll pull our guy out.”
“Tell him to avoid the airport. They’ll be checking cars on the highway, too.”
“You’ve got a boat, haven’t you?”
2 4 8
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“Yes.”
“Take him up the road someplace, where he can rent a car.”
“They’ll be watching up there, too.”
“Then take him up to Key Largo. I’ll meet you there and drive him home.”
“I guess I could do that.”
He gave her the name of a marina. “You know it?”
“Yeah.”
“When will you be there?”
“I can leave first thing in the morning,” she said. “Tell him to call me on this number, and I’ll tell him how to find the boat.”
“Okay, I’ll call him now. We should be in Key Largo by late tomorrow afternoon. I’ll call you a couple of hours out and give you a better ETA. Hey, since you got some time off, you want to do a little work?”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? I’m never going to work again.”
He laughed, too. “Can’t blame you. Call me tomorrow.” He hung up.
She hung up, too, and she didn’t have to wait long for the call.
“Yes?”
“Hi, it’s Larry Lee,” he said.
“That’s the name these days, huh?”
“Always has been.”
“Manny told you what he wants to do?”
“Yeah, and it sounds good to me; I don’t like being holed up like this.”
“You know where the Key West Yacht Club is?”
“Yeah, I’ve driven past it.”
“There’s a thirtytwo-foot motorboat with no name on the stern—an old one, mahogany and white—just inside the main gate. Meet me there at seven A.M. tomorrow morning, and ditch your car somewhere else first. If you get there before I do, let yourself onto the boat; the lock is broken on the cabin doors.”
2 4 9
S t u a r t W o o d s
“Okay, see you at seven.”
“Call me ten minutes before you get there, so I’ll know you’re on the way. I’ll call you if anything changes.” She hung up, happy for something to do with herself. She liked being on the water. AFE W B L OC KS away, late that evening, Tommy sat down with Evan next to a phone. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said.
“I’ve made some arrangements with the phone company. You’re going to call your grandfather’s number in”—he looked at his watch—“two minutes. There’ll be a click, and then you’ll get a dial tone. Dial Gigi’s number. She’ll see the Connecticut number on her caller I.D. Don’t be too definite about when you’re coming back.”
“I get the picture,” Evan said. He waited until Tommy cued him, then he dialed the number, got the dial tone and dialed Gigi’s number.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” he said.
“There you are,” she replied. “Where are you?”
“I just got to Grandfather’s house,” he said. “I’m sorry to run out like that, but it was an emergency.”
“How is he?”
“Hanging on by a thread, apparently. I sat with him for a couple of minutes, but he’s in a coma. His doctor didn’t want to take him to the hospital, said there was no point. He has a living will and a do not-resuscitate order.”
“Maybe that’s best, then.”
“It’s what he wanted. How are you?”
“I’m okay. I think I’ll move back onto the boat tomorrow, though; I miss being on the water.”
“Good idea.”
“I may even cruise around some. You can reach me on my cell.”
“Another good idea.”
2 5 0
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“Do you know how long you’ll be there?”
“No way to tell; it could end tonight or in a couple of days, according to what the doctor said. I’ll arrange a small, graveside service. Most of his friends are dead, so there’s no point in doing the whole church thing.”
“Come back to me soon,” she said. “I love you, and I miss you.”
“Same here, babe. You take care.”
“You too.” She hung up.
EVA N H U N G U P.
“Did she buy it?”
“Sure she did,” Evan replied. “She has no reason not to. Does this plan you and Stone and Dino are working on provide for putting her away?”
“Not directly, but if we get Manny in a tight enough squeeze, he’ll implicate her.”
“I hope so,” Evan said.
2 5 1
55
GI G I WA S AL R E AD Y on the boat when her cell phone buzzed.
“Yes?”
“It’s Larry. I’m across the street—I’ve ditched the car.”
“Come ahead, then.”
“Okay.” He hung up.
She started the engines and checked the gauges. A moment later there was a knock on the hull, and Larry Lee stepped into the cockpit. “Good morning,” she said.
“Good morning. We ready to head out?”
“We’ve got to stop at Key West Bight for fuel, so you go below and stay there, until I call you up. I can handle the fueling.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to handle everything,” he said. “I know nothing about boats. I’ll try and do what you tell me, though.”
He threw his bags below and took a seat.
Gigi tossed the lines ashore and edged out of the berth and into the channel. In an hour they’d be on their way to Key Largo. Larry looked pretty good, she thought. She had fucked him a couple of times before; maybe she would again. It would make an interesting change from Evan.
2 5 2
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
EVA N S AT I N the li
ving room with Stone, Dino and Tommy while they briefed him.
“Okay,” Dino said, “Wally Millard is on board; he’s the guy who’s recommending Manny to you. If it should come up in your conversation with Manny, Wally is medium height, stocky, gray hair. He’s ex-NYPD, now a P.I. A lawyer friend referred you to him; you had all your meetings with him at Elaine’s. Be vague about what kind of work he did for you.”
“Okay,” Evan said. “What’s Elaine’s?”
Dino looked at Evan as if he felt sorry for him. “It’s a very popular restaurant in New York, at Eighty-eighth and Second Avenue.”
“Got it.”
Tommy handed Evan a typed sheet of paper and a map. “My friend Mike Levy has agreed to be the target,” he said. “I want you to commit all this to memory, except the map, which you can show Manny. There are written directions to Mike’s house, both from I-95 and from the Intracoastal Waterway, but I want you to strongly suggest an approach from the water. Mike has a Boston Whaler at a little marina just south of there; it’s marked on the map. Tell Manny the shooter can use the boat, then leave the keys in the locker under the steering wheel.”
“Why do you want an approach from the water?” Evan asked.
“Because it’s easier to see the shooter coming. If he comes by land, he could leave his car anywhere and sneak through the woods. Mike’s making a dummy that he’ll put on the back porch, which overlooks the waterway. There’s a floating dock there with the initials M.L. on a sign. He can shoot from the boat or from the dock.”
Evan read the instructions over carefully. “All right. Why do I want Levy killed?”
“A business partnership gone wrong—there’s some insurance money. Don’t try and give too much detail; you don’t want a guy 2 5 3
S t u a r t W o o d s
like Manny to have any more information than he actually needs to accomplish the hit. The more you tell him, the more he’ll ask.”
“Okay.”
Stone handed Evan an envelope. “Here’s your money back. We’ve wiped all the fingerprints off, and all the bills have been marked with a tiny dab of a fluid that won’t show except under ultraviolet light. Also, we’ve left the bands from South Beach Security in place; that will lend credibility. Offer him forty grand, and go as high as sixty if you have to. You’ll give him half the money up front and let him propose how you give him the second half. That’s probably when the state cops will bust him, so you have to call us and give us a location. Otherwise, they’ll have to put a tail on you.”
Tommy gave him a wallet. “You’ve got a driver’s license, a Social Security card and some miscellaneous I.D., all in the name of Howard Worth. It’s an identity we did for a drug cop; all we did was make a new license with your photo from my cell phone camera.”
Evan put the wallet in his pocket. “Do you want me to identify myself by that name?”
“No, that stuff is just in case he searches you. Tell him your name is Joe, just Joe. All he should know about you is that name and the number for this phone.” Tommy handed him a phone. “Memorize the number. It’s a throwaway. Don’t call anybody but Manny from this phone.”
Stone handed him another phone. “Use this for general purposes, like calling us.”
“Am I going to have to wear a wire?” Evan asked.
“No,” Tommy said, handing him a well-used briefcase. “The briefcase is wired, so keep it within about eight feet of you and Manny. It’ll pick up everything and record it. It’s a solid-state recorder, very small, and it’s concealed under the lining of the case. We’ve put a few pens, paper clips and other junk in there, just to look like you use it every day, but there’s room for the money, too.”
“Got it,” Evan said.
2 5 4
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“It’s okay if you’re a little nervous,” Stone said. “Anybody would be, under the circumstances. Try and stick to the script we’ve talked about, but you can improvise, if you think it will help. Just don’t talk too much; you might make mistakes.”
Stone described Manny’s office, so he would know what to expect. “Okay, you ready to make the call?”
Evan took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay.”
MANN Y ’ S S E C R E TAR Y B U ZZE D him. “There’s a man who says he needs to talk to you, says it’s urgent.”
“What’s his name?”
“Joe, just Joe.”
Manny picked up the phone. “Manny White.”
“Mr. White, my name is Joe. I’d like to speak to you about a job, a very important job.”
“So speak,” Manny said.
“Not on the phone,” Evan said. “I can meet with you around midday today, if you’re available. In your office or wherever you choose.”
“Give me some sort of idea about what you want,” Manny said. “I may not do your kind of work.”
“Wally Millard, in New York, says you might be able to help.”
“Oh, okay, then. How about one o’clock, in my offi ce?”
“Then we’re good.”
“You have the address?”
“No.”
Manny gave it to him, then hung up and called Wally Millard.
“Millard.”
“Hey, Wally, it’s Manny White.”
“Hey, Manny, how you doin’? Funny you should call. I sent you some business yesterday.”
“Yeah, he just called. Who is he?”
2 5 5
S t u a r t W o o d s
“He doesn’t want to do names. Calls himself Joe. But I’ve done a couple jobs for the guy, and he’s always been straight with me. Pays well and on the dot, too.”
“Okay. If you’re vouching for the guy, he can’t be all bad.”
“I was never sorry I worked for him,” Wally said.
“Thanks, pal,” Manny said, then he hung up. WE’R E ON F O R one o’clock,” Evan said.
“Then we’d better get started,” Stone said. He called the airport and asked for his airplane to be refueled and pulled out of the hangar.
2 5 6
56
ST O NE L A ND E D A T Tamiami Airport, rented a car and drove to South Beach. When they were a block from Manny White’s office building, he stopped. “Okay, you take the car from here,” he said to Evan. “Put my cell phone number in your personal phone on a speed-dial button, so if you get into trouble you can call us. When you’re done, drive back to this point and pick us up.”
“Okay,” Evan said.
“There’s parking behind his building, and you can go in the rear entrance.”
“Got it.”
Stone had the feeling he was a lot more nervous than Evan. “Don’t hurry it; he’ll think you’re panicky.”
“When do I want this hit done?”
“As soon as possible. Tell him you’re under some time pressure, but don’t tell him why. Tonight is okay, tomorrow. Don’t agree to anything later than that, and insist on knowing when they’re going to do it. Tell him you want to be well away from the action.”
“Okay. Can I go now?”
Stone and Dino got out of the car, and he drove away. 2 5 7
S t u a r t W o o d s
MANNY WHITE ’ S S E C R E TAR Y buzzed him. “Mr. White,” she said, “your appointment is here.”
“Send him in,” Manny said, and he rose to meet the young man who entered his office. They shook hands, and Manny indicated a chair. “Have a seat, Joe.”
“Thank you. Wally Millard sends his best regards.”
“How did you meet Wally?” Manny asked.
“My New York lawyer sent me to him when I needed some work done.”
“What sort of work?”
“We don’t need to go into that,” Evan said.
“Tell me about your problem,” Manny said.
“I’m in business with a man, and it’s not working out. I want to sell the business, and I have a buyer, but my partner wants a lot more out of the deal than he put in.”
“So you want a sort of business divorce?”
“You could put it that way.”
“And it won’t be amicable?”
“No, and I’d like it to be permanent.”
Manny stood up and walked around the desk. “Stand up, Joe,”
he said, “and take off your jacket. I need to take some precautions.”
Evan stood up and watched as Manny went through his coat pockets and felt along every seam.
“Unbutton your shirt and pull out your shirttail,” Manny said. Evan did as he was told.
Manny lifted his shirt and inspected his chest and back, then made sure there were no wires attached to the shirt. He patted Evan down carefully, paying particular attention to his crotch. “Drop your pants to your knees,” Manny said.
Evan did so and stood still while Manny pulled down his shorts 2 5 8
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
and parted the cheeks of his ass. After Evan had pulled up his pants, Manny checked his shoes and socks.
“All right, you can get dressed,” Manny said. “You’re clean.” He picked up Evan’s briefcase and opened it.
Evan took out the envelope with the cash. “We’re not ready to get to this yet,” he said.
Manny emptied the briefcase onto his desk, then felt the inside for lumps, then he raked the detritus from the case back into it and set it on the desk.
Evan put the money back into the case.
“All right,” Manny said, “tell me what you want.”
Evan took a pad from the briefcase and wrote, “I want him dead,”
then showed it to Manny.
“I understand you. What’s the man’s name?”
Evan wrote “Michael Levy” and the address.
“Where is this?”
“North of here a couple of hours, about eight or nine miles south of Stuart, on the Intracoastal Waterway.”
“How far from I-95?”
“Six or seven miles, but your best opportunity would come from a boat, which I will provide.” Evan took the map from his pocket and spread it on Manny’s desk. “There’s a little marina up this creek, right here. It’s private and untended, and I have a Boston Whaler tied up there. It’s black and has the name Waverider on the bow. The key is in a little locker under the steering wheel, and the outboard has a push-button starter.”
