by Stuart Woods
“Okay, and this map gets my guy there from the interstate?”
“Right down this little road,” Evan said, pointing. “All he does is start the boat, untie it and go down the creek a hundred yards or so to the waterway, then turn north. There’s a powerful spotlight in the boat, if they go after dark, but I’d suggest starting at dusk and approaching the place after the sun is well down. The house is here, marked by an X, and there’s a dock. There’s a sign on the dock with the initials M.L.”
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“Will my guy need to go inside?”
“Maybe, but probably not. Mike has a drink or two on his back porch at sunset. Your man can approach him down the dock, as if to ask for directions, or if he’s good with a rifle, shoot from the end of the dock.”
“He’s good with everything. Is your friend armed?”
“He has a shotgun, but he keeps it locked in a cabinet in the kitchen, so it won’t be at hand. When the job’s done, your man should just take the boat back to the marina and tie it up, then drive away.”
“You understand, something like this will be expensive?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Fifty thousand dollars, half up front, the rest when the job is done.”
“I can manage forty, twenty now.”
“You’ll have to manage fi fty.”
Evan pretended to think it over for a few seconds, then he nodded. “All right,” he said, “but there are time constraints. I need it done tonight if possible.”
Manny looked at his watch. “That may be possible. If not, then tomorrow night.”
“No later than that,” Evan said. He took the envelope from the briefcase and removed three bundles of $10,000 each. He removed five thousand from one bundle, then slid the stack toward Manny.
“I don’t give receipts,” Manny said, raking the money into a desk drawer. “How can I reach you?”
Evan wrote down the number of his throwaway cell phone and handed it to him.
“I’m expecting a call from my man soon,” Manny said. “I’ll call you when I know. Here’s how we do the final payment: You and I will meet for a drink around the time of the work being done. When I get a call that it’s complete, you pay the rest.”
“How will I know he’s dead?” Evan asked.
“You can drive up there and take his pulse if you want to, but 2 6 0
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you pay when I get the call. Wally will tell you that I don’t welsh on deals. Anything goes wrong, you get all your money back.”
“I’d rather be out of the state when it happens,” Evan said.
“We’ll be in a public place where I’m known. The waitress and the bartender will remember you, but not me. You’ll have a solid alibi.”
A cell phone rang, and Manny took it from a drawer. “Yeah?” He listened for a moment. “Good news.” He covered the phone and said to Evan, “It’s my guy,” then he continued. “What’s your ETA?” He listened some more. “Are you up for something good tonight? It’s a couple of hours north of here. The usual price. Good. Instead of my picking you up, rent a car. Call me when you’re on your way, and we’ll meet at that place we met last time, say four o’clock? I’ll have all the details and the first payment. See you then.” Manny hung up.
“He’s available tonight,” he said to Evan.
“Good.”
“You and I will meet at a restaurant called the Steak Shack. It’s on this street, about two blocks down.” Manny pointed.
“Good.”
“Seven-thirty and bring the rest of the money.”
“I’ll see you then,” Evan said. The two men shook hands, and Evan left.
Manny stood at the rear window and watched Evan get into a car and drive away, then he called Larry again.
“Yes?”
“Listen, the job is going to involve a boat.”
“I don’t do boats.”
“Put Gigi on.”
“Hello?”
“Listen, kiddo, I need your help for an important job tonight. It needs to be done from a boat, and Larry doesn’t mess with boats.”
“I already found that out,” she said. “He’s useless. How long is this going to take?”
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“You’ll be done by nine tonight. Larry’s renting a car, and we’ll meet at a place he knows, where I’ll give you the details.”
“How much?”
“Ten grand for very little work in advance. All you have to do is get him to a dock in the boat.”
“All right, I’ll see you later.” She hung up. Manny sat down at his desk, pleased with himself. This one was going to be a piece of cake, and it would make up for the failure in Key West.
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STON E A N D D IN O looked up to see Evan and the car coming. He stopped, and they got inside, Stone behind the wheel.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Perfectly,” Evan replied. “He searched me and the briefcase for a wire, but he didn’t find anything. While I was there he got a call from his hit man, and we’re on for tonight.”
“Hey, that’s quick service!” Dino said.
“I told him to use the boat, as we’d planned.”
Stone got on the phone to Tommy Sculley. “Hey, Tommy, we’re on for tonight.”
“Tonight? I’d better get my ass in gear. I’ve alerted the county sheriff, and they’re standing by. I guess I’d better seaplane it up there and land on the waterway. It’s the fastest way to Mike’s place from Key West.”
Evan spoke up. “Put it on speaker.”
Stone did.
“Tommy,” Evan said, “I told him Mike has a drink on his back porch at sunset every night, so you need to be there while it’s still broad daylight.”
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“Okay, I’ll alert everybody.”
“Something else: I’m going to meet Manny White at a place in South Beach called the Steak Shack, at seven-thirty. He’s to get a call there when the job is done, and I’ll give him the rest of the money. The bartender and the waitress are supposed to be my alibi.”
“You done good, kid,” Tommy said. “The sheriff’s guys will bust the hit man when he brings the boat back to the marina, and the state cops can bust Manny as soon as the money changes hands.”
“Tommy,” Stone said, “for God’s sake tell the state cops to be careful. This is apparently a restaurant where Manny is well known, and we don’t want to spook him by having cops at half the tables. Have them look in from outside, or Evan can phone them when it’s done. They can bust Manny on his way out of the place.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Tommy said. “Where are you two guys gonna be?”
Stone looked at Dino. “What’s your preference?”
“We’re here, let’s stay here,” Dino said. “We can go in with the state cops after the money changes hands. Anyway, I’d like to see the look on Manny’s face.”
“Me too,” Stone said. “You get that, Tommy?”
“I got it. Just don’t let Manny spot you, or he’ll walk out.”
“Evan recorded their whole conversation,” Stone said, “so we’ll have him, anyway.”
“Wait a minute,” Evan said, “I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“I didn’t get everything recorded.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m afraid I got a little too clever. I wrote down part of it on a pad, the part where I tell him I want the guy killed, and showed it to him instead of speaking.”
Stone groaned. “You get that, Tommy?”
“Yeah, I got it. Evan, you’ve got to get it all recorded tonight when you meet Manny. Don’t write things down this time, okay?”
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“Okay, Tommy,” Evan said
. “I’m sorry.”
“Just do a good job tonight, and we’ll bag everybody.”
“I swear I will,” Evan said.
Suddenly, Dino yelled, “Everybody duck!”
Everybody ducked.
“What’s this about, Dino?” Stone asked.
“It’s Manny, he just drove past us.”
“Did he see us?”
“I don’t think so, but man, was that close. He’s way up the street now, so you can sit up.”
Everybody sat up.
“I heard that,” Tommy said. “Did you guys just blow this whole deal?”
“I think we’re okay, Tommy,” Dino said. “He didn’t see us.”
MANNY WHITE D R O V E down Collins Avenue and onto the mainland, toward Florida City. An hour later he pulled up at a diner, near where the Florida Turnpike started, and went inside. Larry Lee and Gigi Jones were at a corner booth. Manny slid in beside them and laid his briefcase on the table. A waitress approached. “What can I get you?”
“A Diet Coke,” Manny said.
“Same here,” Larry said.
“Iced tea,” Gigi said.
The woman left, and Manny opened his briefcase and took out the map Joe had given him. “This is gonna be easy,” he said. He showed them the marina and told them about the boat, then gave them every detail he could remember about the cottage and the dock. “The guy has a drink on his back porch every evening at sundown,” he said. “That’s your time to hit him. Just get the boat near the dock in decent light. There’s a sign on the dock with his initials, M.L.”
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“Is the guy going to be armed?” Larry asked.
“He keeps a shotgun locked up, so he can’t get at it in a hurry,”
Manny replied. “If you can use your rifle from the end of the dock, that’s best.”
“Why can’t we approach from the landward side?” Gigi said.
“Too many neighbors to see you come and go.”
“What about people at the marina where the Whaler is?”
“It’s private and unmanned. You can sit in the car and see whether anybody is around.”
“This all sounds good,” Larry said. “It just came up today?”
“Yeah, a friend of mine in New York sent the guy, says he’s okay and …” He opened the briefcase and gave Larry and Gigi ten thousand dollars each. “He brought gifts,” Manny said. The two tucked their money away.
“You two had better get going before rush hour starts up,” Manny said. “Take the turnpike north; there’ll be less traffic than on I-95, and no trucks. I’ll get the check.”
“You’re a prince, Manny,” Gigi said.
“What are you going to do about the car?” Manny said. Gigi spoke up. “I’ll drop Larry off at his house in Jupiter and return the car to Key Largo tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll head back to Key West. I’ll let you know when Evan gets back from Connecticut, and we’ll get him taken care of.”
“I don’t want to go to Key West again, if I can help it,” Larry said.
“I’ve missed twice there; it’s bad luck.”
“I’ll see if I can get him to Miami,” Gigi said. “You’ll have a very nice payday when we get that done.”
The three split up and went their separate ways. 2 6 6
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TOM M Y SCU L L EY S A T in the right seat of the amphibian Cessna 182 and watched the Intracoastal Waterway a thousand feet below them.
“You gotta get lower,” Tommy said, looking at the map, “and right now.”
“Okay,” the pilot replied, reducing power. The airplane, with the drag of the floats, slowed immediately and began to descend.
“Man, everything looks different from the air,” Tommy said.
“Always,” the pilot replied. He pointed at the map. “Is that the creek right before we get to your buddy’s house?”
“That’s gotta be it,” Tommy said. “That’s where the marina is.”
The pilot reduced power further and put in a notch of fl aps.
“Then we better get down fast; we’re nearly there. Watch for boats and other obstructions.”
Tommy peered ahead. The sun was low in the sky, and the western half of the waterway was in shadow. “Damn, we’re really cutting it close,” he said.
“We had headwinds,” the pilot replied, putting in another notch of flaps. “I see a dock up ahead. We clear of traffi c?”
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Tommy checked ahead. A large cabin cruiser was moving south on the waterway, but was not a factor for them. “You’re all clear, as far as I can see,” he said.
The pilot touched down smoothly and slowed. “How can we tell if this is the right dock?”
“It’s the first one up from the creek,” Tommy said. “Can you turn around and come in with my side to the dock? Then I can hop out and hold the plane. Leave the engine running, so you can take off immediately if this is the right place.”
The pilot made a wide turn, set the engine at idle and approached the dock. As he did a man came jogging down the dock.
“That’s Mike!” Tommy yelled. “He’ll catch us.”
The pilot maneuvered closer until the wing was over the dock. The man reached out, grabbed the strut under the wing and pulled them until the floats brushed the fenders attached to the dock. Tommy opened the door and tossed his overnight bag onto the pontoon, then hopped out and closed the door. He gave the pilot a thumbs-up and, with Mike’s help, pushed the airplane away from the dock. A moment later the airplane was picking up speed, and a moment after that it lifted off and headed south, climbing.
“Hey, Mike!” Tommy said, shaking his hand and clapping him on the shoulder. “How you been?”
“Not too bad,” Michael Levy replied. He was a little over six feet tall, on the slim side, wearing shorts, sneakers and a polo shirt. He grabbed Tommy’s bag and started up the dock. “C’mon,” he said.
“I’ll show you what I’ve got done.”
GI G I D R O V E T H E rental car down the paved road, with Larry Lee, which was his real name, in the passenger seat. “Look at that,” Larry said, pointing to an airplane climbing above the tree line, headed south.
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“It’s just an airplane,” Gigi said, checking their map. “Here’s the road to the marina coming up.”
“It’s against the law in Florida to land an airplane on a beach or on the inland waterway,” Larry said.
“Does anybody pay attention to that?” she asked.
“The cops don’t,” he replied.
“Did the airplane have any offi cial markings?”
“No, it looks ordinary enough,” Larry said, “but I still don’t like it.”
She reached the road with a sign pointing left to the Osprey Marina—private.
“Slow down,” Larry said. “Slow way down.” They came to a bridge. “Stop at the top of the bridge,” he said.
“All right.”
The bridge gave them a little elevation to see above the trees, which weren’t very tall.
“We’ve got a nearly empty parking lot, a shack and a fl oating pontoon,” she said. “No more than a dozen boats, and I don’t see any people.”
“There’s one,” Larry said. A man had stepped onto the pontoon from a small motorboat with a cabin and was walking toward the connecting footbridge that rose and fell with the tide. He was carrying a sailing duffel. “Let’s just wait here a minute,” Larry said. The man walked ashore, tossed his duffel in the back of a pickup, got in, started it and drove toward the road.
“Go ahead slowly,” Larry said. “Let him get past us, then stop before you get to the parking lot.”
The truck passed them going the other way as they drove off the bridge.
“He looks like a regular guy with a boat,” Gigi said.
“Yeah, he does. Just pull over about fifty yards ahead at that wide
spot. I want to take a look on foot.”
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“Larry, the place looks deserted.” She sighed.
“Gigi, did I ever tell you that I’ve never been arrested, not even for a speeding ticket, let alone a killing?”
“Yes, Larry.”
“Well, that’s because I’m careful, and I always listen to my own brain, and right now, my brain is a little nervous.”
Gigi pulled over and stopped. “You want me to wait here?”
“Turn the car around and keep the motor running,” he said. She did so, and Larry got out of the car. He crossed the road, entered the woods, which was mostly smallish live oaks, and began running lightly through the trees. He slowed down when he could see the edge of the parking lot, then approached the pavement cautiously. From a few feet into the trees he could see everything. The parking lot was empty, and so was the pontoon. The sun was low in the sky, big and red, with the light filtering through the pollution from I-95. It was dead quiet.
Larry looked around the perimeter of the parking lot, checking for men in the tree line, but he saw nothing. He retraced his steps to the road and went to the car. As he put his hand on the door handle he heard something. Whomp-whomp-whomp. He got quickly into the car. “Chopper,” he said. “Let’s go, but don’t drive over thirty.”
“Which way?”
“Back the way we came,” Larry said.
“I don’t see the chopper,” she said, and then she crossed the bridge and turned right, and there it was.
“State police,” he said.
“But it’s headed away from us, toward I-95.”
“Look,” he said, pointing. “Stop here.”
Ahead of them, several miles away, a column of black smoke was rising, and the helicopter was flying toward it.
“Accident on I-95,” Larry said. “That’s what the chopper is for. We’re okay; let’s go back to the marina.”
Gigi made a U-turn and retraced her route.
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“This time park in the parking lot,” Larry said.
“Are you feeling less nervous?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” he replied.
She pulled into the lot.
“Turn around and back into a spot, near the bridge to the pon toon,” he said. When she stopped, he got out of the car and looked around, listened. “Pop the trunk.”
