"Yep, and the other guy having red hair," Sam agreed. "And speaking English to him without much accent, and the Puerto Rican numbers on the bow of the boat that dropped them off on Blacksnake. It all fits, especially with Vengeance headed for Puerto Rico. I still think he was part of it, though, no matter what Pietro says."
"I don't know," Wallace said. "Pietro is usually pretty persuasive, and he said Joseph was adamant about that. It doesn't matter, at this point. If he wasn't part of it, it was certainly his fault that whoever they were got wind of the diamonds. Dumb shit. He told Pietro he thought those stones he gave the girls were only worth a few hundred dollars – thought he'd skimmed maybe a few thou all together." Wallace shook his head.
"I've meant to ask before, but where did Pietro come from?" Sam asked.
"Serbia, originally. He ended up down here running from some war crimes tribunal."
"We gonna send him to Puerto Rico to look for Velasquez?" Sam asked.
"I don't think so," Wallace replied. "I don't know how far to trust him. He's good at questioning people, but he's a real screwball. I think Willie's the guy for the job."
"But he's such a dimwit," Sam protested, "and he always looks like he'll wet his pants if somebody so much as yells at him."
"You're right on both counts. That's what makes him a good candidate for the job. He's just smart enough to get it done, but not smart enough to think of going into business for himself if they try to bribe him. And he's too scared to get into any trouble," Wallace concluded with a chuckle.
Sam shook his head, unconvinced. After a moment, he said, "Your call. But what if I ask Toby to fly down from Miami and meet Willie in Puerto Rico? He's bilingual in English and Spanish and he's got a U.S. passport. He's pretty level-headed, too -- not a guy to use muscle unless he has to."
"That's a good idea, Sam. Send him along; once he's there, find out from him how to get Willie together with him."
Chapter 12
"Wind's backed a bit," Dani remarked as Liz came on deck to relieve her.
"What's our new course, then?" Liz asked.
"Wind's oscillating a little, but I'd say we're averaging around one-forty, one-forty-five."
They both looked up, studying the sails and the wind vane at the masthead for a moment.
"Want to fall off the wind a little?" Liz asked.
"We could, but we'd lose speed and the ride would get rolly. The wind may back more with that new cold front, depending on how strong it is," Dani said, thinking aloud. "Then we could jibe and maybe make the Virgins on the starboard tack."
"If we hold this course, we'd probably hit Anguilla or St. Martin," Liz said. She glanced down at the GPS on the pedestal and punched buttons as she steered. "Yes. A little under 300 miles -- say about midnight tomorrow night."
"Well, let's just ride the wind shift for now. We'll see what the forecast looks like on the next update, and we can talk to Connie when she comes on watch. Think she's stuck on going to the Virgins?" Dani asked.
"I doubt it. She wants to see it all, so she probably won't care where we start; she's already asking about extending the charter for another month. I think she's ready to move in with us." Liz chuckled. "Nothing like picking up crew and getting paid for it."
"I do wonder what her story is," Dani said. "A plane buzzed us when I was relieving her a few hours ago. I commented that it was probably the DEA or somebody looking for something; no other reason for them to be out this far at sea. She got sort of nervous. I'm not sure I would have noticed except for your comment the other day about her looking over her shoulder in Nassau, but I saw the worry-lines on her forehead and she suddenly seemed preoccupied."
"She's still good company," Liz remarked. "Easiest charter we've done since we bought Vengeance."
"You're right about that. No complaints about her; it's just idle curiosity. What's a young, pretty woman like her doing kicking around the islands alone?" Dani asked. "She doesn't seem worried about money, either."
"You're a fine one to ask questions like that, Dani," Liz laughed.
A wry grin split Dani's face. "Right. I guess people might wonder the same about you or me, but it is work, for us."
****
Toby Rodriguez sat in a bar in the airport in San Juan, nursing a beer while he waited for Willie Davis. From his small table near the entrance, he could look directly across the concourse at the arrival gate for Willie's flight. The departure from Nassau had been delayed; the plane had been caught in some nasty weather somewhere in the southeastern U.S. and was late arriving in Nassau.
Until now, Willie had been just a voice on the phone as far as Toby was concerned. Toby knew that Sam Alfieri thought Willie was a lightweight, but Willie was a favorite of Sam's Bahamian partner, Wallace Rolle. Sam stuck to managing relationships and financial transactions these days, leaving the logistics to Rolle and his extended organization.
Toby had grown up in Miami, part of a big family whose Cuban origins long predated Castro's revolution. He had once run one of Sam's shrimp boats, but by the time Sam's smuggling business had been shut down a few years ago, Toby had long since moved on to establish his own nefarious businesses. He felt fortunate to have escaped being caught up in the aftermath of Sam's problems and had helped his old boss get started again after he got to the Bahamas.
Toby was semi-retired now, enjoying a financially comfortable life in Miami. His son, a Wharton graduate with an MBA, was one of the new breed of criminals who stole more in a few days using computers than Toby's whole generation had stolen in a lifetime. Toby wasn't even sure that his son qualified as a criminal, but he at least had the right attitude, and he had access to some skilled computer geeks who sometimes did a little work for Toby. At the moment, they were watching for Vengeance in the U.S. Customs database. Sam was expecting that she would clear into either Puerto Rico or the U.S. Virgin Islands in the next few days, and when she did, Toby would know all about it.
For all that, Toby was a relatively young, vigorous man and he missed the action; he thought his son's generation had it all wrong. Life was all the sweeter when the struggle was mano a mano, so Toby kept his hand in by serving as Sam's alter ego in Miami, since Sam's legal problems required him to stay in the Bahamas. Toby was excited at the prospect of doing some real work for a change.
The tinny, hard-to-understand announcement, first in Spanish and then in English, alerted Toby to the arrival of the flight from Nassau. He picked up the Miami Herald from the table in front of him and held it as if reading it, so that the front page would be readily visible to the passengers filing from the gate. From the corner of his eye, he watched for a slender man of average height wearing a red shirt and a Panama hat. Just as he began to wonder if Willie had missed the flight, he spotted the man, moving slowly and looking confused.
Toby wondered if Willie was drunk, the way he almost staggered into the waiting area. He watched the man stop and look around, obviously searching for someone. When he finally spotted Toby with the Miami Herald, a big grin split his face and he came straight to the table and pulled out a chair, dropping his duffle bag as he started to sit.
Toby fixed him with an icy stare, and Willie froze. "T-Toby?" he asked, eyes darting from side to side.
Toby clenched his teeth and shook his head slightly, amazed at the man's careless approach. "Sorry," Willie said, releasing the chair and reaching for his bag.
"Sit down, dumbass," Toby hissed.
Willie dropped the bag again and sank into the chair, frowning in puzzlement.
"You check to see if there were cops? Or if anybody's watching you or me?" Toby asked in a low voice.
Willie's frown deepened as he shook his head. "You Toby?" he whined.
"Yeah, and you're dog-meat if you don't start paying attention," Toby growled. "It's a wonder you ain't locked up somewhere."
"But I thought…"
"I doubt that," Toby cut him off. "Now shut up and listen."
Willie nodded, the muscles in his ja
w jumping as he looked down at the tabletop.
"I got a rental car, a white Prius. Now I'm going to get up and go get the car. Can you tell time?"
Willie nodded sullenly, still refusing to look Toby in the eye.
"Okay. I'm going to leave $10 on the table. That's for the waitress, not for you. Understand?"
"Yeah."
Toby put a $10 bill under his empty beer mug. "You keep an eye on the clock over the bar behind where I'm sitting. Give me 10 minutes and then get up and follow the signs to curbside pickup. Don't order a drink; don't talk to anybody, and don't go anywhere else except straight to curbside pickup. Walk out to the curb when you see me coming; try to pick a spot where there's not a car, and I'll stop. You throw your shit in the back seat and get in the front passenger door, quick-like. Got it?" Toby asked.
"Yeah."
Toby folded the Miami Herald carefully and stood up. He walked away without looking back, leaving Willie staring forlornly at the clock.
A few minutes later, Toby pulled the car up to the curb and Willie got in as instructed. As Toby pulled away, Willie said, "Can you stop somewhere? I gotta take a leak."
"Why the hell didn't you go in the terminal while I got the car?" Toby asked, scowling as he stole a glance at Willie.
"You said not to," Willie whined.
Toby shook his head in disbelief.
****
"That was Toby," Sam said, pressing the disconnect button on his cell phone. He and Wallace sat in rocking chairs on the shaded porch that enclosed three sides of Wallace's house. They gazed out over the turbulent, turquoise water off Lyford Cay. The waves, driven by the strong northwest wind from the latest cold front, were crashing over the shallow coral heads, filling the air with salt-mist. "He and Willie linked up at the airport in San Juan. They're booked in a hotel close to Puerto del Rey Marina; figure that's as good a place to start looking for Vengeance as any."
"Still sounds like looking for a needle in a haystack to me," Wallace said.
"Yeah, it would be, except Toby's got some contacts through his family in Miami."
"I thought you said they were Cuban," Wallace objected.
"They're Cuban-American. His family's been in Florida since the early days of Batista's regime. He's connected. He'll get word as soon as Vengeance clears U.S. Customs."
"What if they go to the Virgins?" Wallace asked.
"Same. B.V.I.'s covered, too."
"Then how do they pinpoint the location?" Wallace asked.
"They'll know where the yacht was when it cleared. It won't move too far from there for a few days, most likely -- not after nearly a week at sea. Those two gals running the boat will be tired."
"You make it sound easy," Wallace said.
"We wish. Once we find the yacht, we still have to get the diamonds. Hell, we're not even sure they're on the boat, or who's on the boat, for that matter."
Chapter 13
Dani sat in the cockpit watching the sky grow lighter with the coming of dawn. She braced her bare feet against the opposite side of the cockpit to steady herself as Vengeance rolled rhythmically through 15 degrees to each side of vertical. As she took a sip of her coffee, Connie appeared at the top of the companionway ladder.
"Can't sleep?" Dani asked her.
"I did, but the rolling woke me up just now. Did it just start?"
"Yes. The wind died down, and the tide's slack, so there's nothing to hold us against the swell." Dani took another sip of coffee.
Connie ducked back below, appearing again in a moment with her own cup. She braced herself at the top of the ladder and looked around at the shoreline. They were anchored in a large, mostly empty bay. She recognized the airport complex at the north end, remembering that they had steered on the beacon flashing against the night sky when they came in a few hours ago.
"This is St. Martin?" she asked, a perplexed look on her face. "I thought there'd be more, um…"
Dani chuckled. "There is. This is just Simpson Bay. There's a lot more going on in the lagoon, and even more in Phillipsburg and Marigot."
"So what time will the drawbridge open?" Connie asked.
"The first opening is for outbound vessels from the lagoon at 9:00; the inbound opening is at 9:30. You can just make out the bridge channel over there next to that hotel on the beach," Dani pointed as Connie scanned the shoreline in the rapidly growing light.
"What's our agenda?" Connie wanted to know. "I'm surprised Liz can sleep through this rolling."
"You learn how," Dani said, smiling. "Once she's up and we've had breakfast, we'll cover the sails and straighten up on deck. We'll probably have time to launch the dinghy and get the outboard on it before the bridge opens. Once we're in the lagoon, we'll anchor and go ashore to clear in with the authorities on the French side."
"How does that work? The border, I mean. It seems strange. Liz said the border runs right through the lagoon."
"You won't notice it; neither in the lagoon nor ashore. It's more like a county line in the States than an international border. St. Martin's a real free port; the French and the Dutch have shared it for nearly 400 years without much friction, even when Europe was at war back in the 1700s and 1800s."
"How long will they let us stay? I mean visas and all that?"
"As long as we want; it's good for business."
"That's a switch from the Bahamas," Connie reflected.
"It's a switch from everywhere. There's nowhere else quite like it. They take 'free port' seriously. Shopping is great; there's nothing you can't buy here, and mostly at the best prices in the world."
"I think I'd like to stay here in St. Martin for a while," Connie said, "And really get a feel for it. Liz said it's just a day's sail between islands from here on."
"That's right; it's easy sailing, and the islands are all different and all beautiful. You're the boss; we'll come and go whenever and wherever you want."
"Speaking of that, I'm hooked. I want to extend the charter for at least another month. Can we do that?"
"Of course we can do it. It's what we do; we'll just let our booking agent know while we're here. I don't think we have anything that she can't reschedule with somebody else. We're yours for as long as you like, and glad to have you aboard."
"I smell bacon," Connie said. "Liz must be up. And thanks, Dani. You guys are great; I'm having a blast and I don't want to rush through the islands."
****
Willie was enjoying himself. While the medium-priced tourist hotel was nothing special for Puerto Rico, it seemed luxurious to him. He had showered and shaved and was standing out on the balcony of his room, taking in the view. From what he could see, Puerto Rico was lush and green. The contrast to the Bahamas was dramatic. He stepped back inside to answer the knock on his door; his room service breakfast was ready. After he signed the tab and tipped the waiter, he sat down at the small round table and turned on the television, watching CNN as he enjoyed his bacon and eggs.
He could get used to living like this, he thought. He would even put up with the abuse from Toby Rodriguez, if this was his reward. Toby had told him they probably wouldn't have much to do today; he didn't expect to hear about the yacht until late in the day, but he had warned Willie not to stray from the hotel and to keep his cell phone on, just in case.
Their plan was to go on a scouting expedition once they knew where Vengeance was berthed. Toby had stressed that the most important thing was to find the diamonds; if they could recover the diamonds, they could deal with the Velasquez woman and whoever else was involved at their leisure. Toby was hoping that the people would go out to dinner to celebrate their landfall, leaving the boat unattended so that Willie could search it; he hoped to be able to tell Sam more about the people who had stolen his diamonds. He had learned the hard way that it was important to know who your enemies were before confronting them.
Willie was comfortable with that; he was the Bahamian equivalent of a second story man – a good, competent, sneak-thief who had ripped o
ff a lot of yachts, occupied or not. His first choice was to avoid confrontations, but the prospect of three defenseless women had some appeal, too. He knew the Velasquez woman, at least, was attractive. If forced into a confrontation, he was prepared to enjoy it. He finished his breakfast and stretched out on the sofa, scrolling through the pay-per-view offerings. Relaxed and with a full belly, he was soon asleep.
****
In the room next door, Toby was sitting in front of his laptop. He had checked his email and was busy updating his stock portfolio when the chime alerted him to the arrival of a new message. He finished his spreadsheet entries and saved the file, clicking the email icon on the task bar at the bottom of the screen. He saw that the new message was from EJWYachting.com, the charter broker listed on Vengeance's website.
Using a Gmail address that he had created specifically for the purpose, he had enquired as to the availability of Vengeance a couple of days ago and had received an automated, 'out of the office' reply, offering an alternative broker's name and contact information in case he wanted to consider other yachts. He had opted to wait, given that he wasn't interested in any other yachts, and then he had forgotten about his query after Wallace's pilot had spotted Vengeance. He opened the email and saw that it was signed by Elaine Whelan, the president of EJW Yacht Charters, LLC. Scanning the email, he learned that Vengeance was booked for the next month; as far as she knew, the yacht was available after that. If he wished to charter sooner, she had some other nice yachts available, or, if he could let her know the dates and locations he had in mind, she would verify Vengeance's future availability and location. He tapped out a noncommittal reply and sent it, thinking that it wouldn't hurt to keep the dialog open, just in case.
He thought for a minute, and decided that it might be wise to have a contingency plan in case they didn't find the yacht right away. He composed an email to the hacker who was monitoring the U.S. Customs database for him, asking him to keep tabs on any email between the charter broker and Vengeance.
Bluewater Ice: The Fourth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 4) Page 7
