NO EASY WAY OUT a gripping action-packed thriller (Johnny Silver Thriller Book 4)

by PAUL BENNETT

‘While I was bravely creating a diversion . . .’ said Pieter.

  ‘While you were bravely creating a diversion,’ Bull continued, ‘they were not as stupid as we thought . . . ’

  ‘You have to be pretty stupid to get killed for so little,’ said Stan.

  ‘But they came at lunchtime rather than in the evening,’ said Bull, ‘because they weren’t after money. They must have heard a rumour about drugs being available there. They needed a fix and that was the place to score. They died for a fix.’ He shook his head. ‘Helluva crazy world.’

  ‘Then there’s Senora Sanchez,’ I said.

  ‘The one who gave away that we were going to attack the vegetable truck.’

  ‘The one who didn’t give us away,’ I said. ‘I owe her an apology. It was Estevez. We put him in a very difficult position. We were going to hijack his drugs. So he reckons to stop us by sending in reinforcements. They weren’t lousy shots, they’d been told not to kill us. Not before we’d rescued Maria.’

  ‘God, you’ve got a devious mind,’ said Pieter, ‘to come up with all this.’

  ‘Have you only just realised that?’ said Bull. ‘That’s one of the reasons we’ve survived so long. He out-thinks the bad guys.’

  ‘And you outshoot them,’ I added.

  ‘Pleased to be of service, pilgrim. Now what the hell are we going to do about the fiesta?’ he said.

  ‘And the drugs,’ I added. ‘We’re sitting on millions of dollars of heroin.’

  ‘With Miguel eyeing it.’

  ‘I’m not worried about Miguel,’ I said. ‘I think that Maria has brought about a Damascene moment in him.’

  ‘What the hell’s that?’ said Red.

  ‘He’s had a sudden revelation that the world of drugs is not for him.’

  ‘Then why the hell didn’t you say that rather than the Damascene thing? You know they are against Comanches for university places. Otherwise we’d be top students and run the country.’

  I nodded, as if to say point taken. It pays not to challenge Red when he’s in Comanche mode.

  ‘Then what are you worried about?’ said Stan. ‘We just turn the drugs over to the authorities and go home.’

  ‘You’re forgetting the elephant in the room,’ I said.

  ‘Elephant in the room!’ said Red. ‘I give up.’

  They all looked at me.

  ‘Toomey,’ I said. ‘Hands up all those who think he’s innocent.’

  There was silence for a few seconds while they pondered. Then everyone kept their hands down.

  ‘He set us up,’ I said. ‘He was in Estevez’s pocket at the time when our revered drugs lord is in trouble. Estevez can’t risk any of his people — after all, he’s not supposed to have any knowledge of that kind of person — so he goes to Toomey, who picks us as the weapon of last resort. If we succeed in freeing Maria, everyone is happy and can get back to normal, that is making obscene profits out of the misery of drugs. If we fail, then he just has to dig deeper to find some more cannon fodder.’

  ‘So what are we going to do about Toomey?’ said Bull. ‘We can’t let him get away scot free.’

  ‘I have the start of an idea,’ said Stan.

  ‘And will this be sneaky?’ asked Bull.

  ‘I reckon so,’ said Stan.

  ‘Then I’m liking it already,’ said Bull.

  ‘It involves one of Rosa’s dresses.’

  ‘I’d like to say I like it more, but I’m unsure,’ said Bull. ‘Might not be good for my image.’

  ‘So this is what I think we should do,’ said Stan. And there were no dissenters.

  Chapter Twenty

  No one knew what to do next, including us. The helicopter crash and the death of the patron of the village could be said to kind of put a slight dampener on proceedings. My first thoughts were for Senora Estevez and her daughter, so I sought them out in the stunned crowd that had gravitated to the burning helicopter. Maria was being comforted by Miguel; Conchita Estevez had a blank expression on her face. I put my arm around her and led her in the direction of the house. Once inside, we trooped into the main living room and collapsed on the vast settees that dominated the room. I sat down next to Conchita and took her shaking hands in mine. Maria went over to a cocktail cabinet and poured four glasses of brandy. I encouraged Conchita to drink her glass in one gulp, which she did and then coughed.

  ‘I apologise if I seem heartless,’ I said, ‘but there are some practical issues we need to sort out. We will need to report this incident — let’s call it an accident from here on in — to the police. If we don’t, then it will look suspicious and, with any investigation, the whole house of cards will fall down. Maria, will you handle that?’

  ‘Si, Senor Silver,’ she said, nodding. ‘I will do anything you ask.’

  I turned back to Conchita. ‘How much of your husband’s business affairs did you know about?’

  ‘I knew nothing,’ she said. ‘I suspected nothing. I can’t believe what you have told us. He seemed such a caring man. So proud of his country.’

  ‘If the authorities find out that your husband was a drugs baron, they will sequester all your funds. In simple terms, that means they will take all your money and you will effectively be left destitute. I wouldn’t want to see that happen for a variety of reasons. Do you understand?’

  ‘Si. I understand.’

  ‘Then this is what we do. We tell the authorities that it was a simple accident. The pilot had been drinking at the fiesta. He shouldn’t have agreed to fly your husband. He must have pressed a wrong button or something. The whole helicopter is a burnt-out shell so there won’t be any evidence to the contrary. Agreed?’

  She nodded her head.

  ‘What do we do with the drugs?’ Miguel asked. ‘I could take them if you wish. Use my father’s contacts to dispose of them.’

  ‘You mean sell them?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have on my conscience the miseries that will cause. No, I have plans for them.’

  I took a moment out to take a sip of my brandy. It was exceedingly good — as good as the damned coffee.

  ‘Now we have to think of the village,’ I said. ‘I apologise again, for I am going to blackmail you. If you do as I say, I will stick to the story. If you don’t I will feel the obligation to tell the authorities the truth and then, as I have said before, you will lose everything. Is that clear to you all?’ There were nods from all of them. ‘Your husband, I suspect, has bankrolled this village for many years. Without his patronage it would have suffered a slow death as the men drifted away from the hard life here and the next generation would then follow them. You have to continue that patronage.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ said Conchita. ‘You seem to have left me no option.’

  ‘I want you to increase the size of the farm so that more of the people from the village will be employed. And,’ I said, turning to Miguel, ‘you must start a farm, too. No more drug business. You must go legitimate or I have simply replaced one drugs lord with another.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I am cut out for that business in any case. All the misery, all the death — I have a conscience, too, although it has taken many years, and the help of Maria, for me to find it. Since I know nothing of farming, I will ask one of the men from the village to be my farm manager. It will feel good not to be looking over my shoulder for the police coming to arrest me.’

  ‘Between you,’ I said, ‘you will expand the school and the number of teachers. Every child here should have the opportunity to learn and grow with the village. If they still want to leave when they are old enough, then so be it, but this way they will have more options available to them. I want everyone in the village to have the opportunity to prosper with it.’

  ‘Anything else?’ asked Maria. ‘While you’re blackmailing us, you might as well make the price as big as possible.’

  ‘I will let you know whether you need a new priest once I have spoken t
o Padre Patrick and seen what his role was in the drug smuggling. For a man who jumps quickly to condemn, he must suffer condemnation too, when it is due. He that lives by the sword, must die by the sword — metaphorically speaking, of course. Now we can wait no longer. Maria, you phone the police. Miguel, gather the people together and tell them the story and get their agreement to stick to it, if asked.’

  ‘And is that it?’ Conchita asked. ‘Aren’t you going to ask for money, too?’

  ‘I have forty-five thousand dollars courtesy of Miguel and another twenty-five from Toomey, after expenses. We’ll keep all of that for services supplied, if not exactly rendered, in Miguel’s case. We want nothing else.’

  I downed the rest of the brandy and squeezed Conchita’s hand.

  ‘I must go now,’ I said. ‘There are still things to tidy up before the police get here. I appreciate that you, Conchita and Maria, will feel sorrow even though he was a bad man. The time for mourning will come, but it is not now. There is too much to do first. Goodbye, my friends.’

  I walked to the door and turned around, like Columbo. I didn’t do the finger-to-the-head bit, although I was tempted.

  ‘One more thing,’ I said. ‘Maria, why is your room so tidy?’

  She laughed. ‘My father was a snooper. Had to find out everything about a person. I don’t know whether he was just overly curious or if he had a problem, given what I now know. With insecurity, would I, one who was studying law, find out what he was up to and betray him? He would go through my things — search my drawers and wardrobes, look under the bed. It made the room seem dirty, violated even. In the end, it was easier simply to remove most of my things and keep them at university — deprive him of stealing my personality by his constant peaking and seeking. I purposely depersonalised the room and, as a consequence, myself. I felt that if he found nothing then he might stop looking.’

  ‘I suspect that he had started to have paranoid tendencies — we’ve already heard Miguel talking about looking over his shoulder for the police to come and arrest him. I wish you all well,’ I said. ‘We will wrap up things tomorrow and go home. Maria, look after your mother. She needs all the help you can give. Whatever your plans for a future with Miguel, put them on hold for a while. Move back in here and be around when she needs you, which may be much and often. Adios amigos. And, if I have this right, via con dios.’

  ‘And with you,’ Maria said.

  If we stay here much longer, I’ll be speaking like a native. Impressive, huh?

  * * *

  Next on my list was Padre Patrick. He was standing with the crowd around the helicopter, moving among them, touching hands and trying to keep them from settling into shock. He didn’t seem pleased to see me.

  ‘We need to talk,’ I said to him. ‘Whatever your feelings are towards me, mine are double that for you. So, hypocrite, let’s go somewhere quiet.’

  He led me to a small house close to the church that presumably went with the job. It was little different, I imagined, to the others in the village, except that it had a shelf in the main room which had a large statue of the Madonna and three offering candles on it. He lit the candles, which gave an eerie glow to the room, went into the kitchen and came out bearing a bottle of Irish whiskey and two glasses. He motioned me to a cane chair to the left of a fireplace, poured me a measure, handed it to me and sat down opposite to me in what looked to be the only comfortable chair in the house. Whatever he spent his salary on, it was not furniture. I took a sip of the whiskey — smooth as silk — and looked him in the eye.

  ‘Last time we met,’ I said, ‘you were talking about the commandments and “Thou shall not kill more than one”. How are you on “Thou shall not steal”? Steal people’s lives away so that they only exist for the next fix? How much did you know about Estevez’s visits and the drug smuggling. Something must have struck you as not being right.’

  ‘He was a rich man and rich men have their eccentricities.’

  ‘Don’t bullshit me, preacher man. I may be a lot of things that you disapprove of, but I am not stupid.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Patronising of me. Another thing to add to the list of my sins. I did think something was strange about always having a new statue of Our Lady and this whole business of sharing it with another village. Wouldn’t have cost much to have one each, seeing that it was made of papier mâché. And then, like you found out today, there was the issue of the weight.’

  ‘So you turned a blind eye?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that, my son.’

  ‘So how would you put it? And, by the way, don’t call me my son. I’d be ashamed to have a father like you. Think again of the damage drugs can do. You were part of an industry that deals out death. You are a disgrace to your profession.’

  ‘Alright,’ he said, after taking a gulp from his glass. He needed Dutch courage as much as Irish whiskey. ‘I take your point. All I can say is that I did it for the good of the village.’

  ‘And for your own good. Protecting your livelihood.’

  ‘There was that too, I admit. I had come to love this place, but mostly it was for the village. Without Estevez’s patronage it would have withered and died. There’s a lot of good people here. I couldn’t let anything happen to them.’

  ‘Hell and damnation, preacher. What are we going to do with you?’

  ‘Would another glass of whiskey help?’

  ‘Wouldn’t do any harm.’

  He filled up our glasses and took a sip this time. This glass was for pleasure rather than anaesthetising his conscience.

  ‘How are you on lying for a good cause?’ I asked.

  ‘I’d have to say three Hail Marys afterwards.’

  I told him the story I had worked out and the agreement of Conchita, Maria and Miguel to it. I also told him the rest of the bargain I’d extracted.

  ‘Get all the people inside your church and rehearse them in what they will say when the police arrive. You need to reinforce what Miguel tells them. Give it your imprimatur. Make it clear it won’t count against them when they meet St Peter at the pearly gates.’

  ‘That I can do,’ he said. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Don’t be too quick to judge your fellow man. Remember the bit in the Bible about beams and motes. And, finally, stick around for them. They’ll need someone to rely on during the transition to a new vibrant and thriving village. There’s going to be a lot of changes, a lot of challenges. Guide them.’

  He nodded. ‘I got you all wrong, didn’t I?’

  I gave a shrug. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time and I don’t think it will be the last. Sometimes you can’t avoid doing a bad thing if you want to do a greater good.’

  ‘Any more bad things to come?’

  ‘Just the one and then we can all go home.’

  ‘Via con dios, Johnny Silver. I’ll pray for you.’

  ‘I’d appreciate that. Some divine intervention would be good.’

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I met up with my friends outside the church. They were just finishing loading the heroin into the boot of Stan’s hired car. All we could do now was wait.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ Toomey said when he arrived back. ‘I heard the call-out in my car. Something about a helicopter crash.’

  ‘Your friend Estevez and his pilot. Burned beyond recognition by now. If you want to see the wreck, it’s at the back of Estevez’s ranch.’

  ‘What about the heroin?’ he said, getting onto the subject he was most interested in.

  ‘I wondered how long it would be before you brought that up,’ I said. ‘We have the heroin safe and sound.’

  ‘Then I’ll take it and be on my way.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘We don’t trust you with it, but we’re willing to make a deal.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he replied.

  ‘Our thought was that now Estevez is dead, we would try to make a fistful of dollars from the heroin.’

  ‘
You can’t do that. The heroin is my responsibility as an agent of the DEA.’

  ‘An agent who was feathering his own nest. You have been in league with Estevez all along. No point denying it now. Tell us about it. How did it start and how long has it been going on?’

  ‘We — the DEA — intercepted a shipment in one of Estevez’s trucks. We decided to let it through so we could catch the man at the top rather than just a delivery driver.’

  ‘So you traced back and found Estevez. You blackmailed him so that he cut you in on the profits. What was your percentage?’

  ‘Ten per cent. Small percentage, big money.’

  ‘Why? That’s what I don’t understand. You’ve got a secure job, well paid, I imagine. Did you just get greedy?’

  ‘I want to retire in style rather than scratching an existence in some second-rate town with the other old folk.’

  ‘What I don’t get is trying to extract the money from drugs. You must have witnessed many times the misery that drugs cause. What turned you into the rotten apple?’

  ‘It was a losing battle. We were never going to win against the drug lords. Remove one and another steps in and fills the vacuum. You can see that with Estevez and Rojo. Where there was one, there was then two. It was all going so well until Rojo came along. I admire the kid, that he spotted the opportunity of Estevez’s trucks delivering the heroin across the border, but he didn’t — couldn’t — know what he was getting into. He was shaking a stick at a wasp’s nest. When you do that, someone gets stung.’

  ‘You must regret getting us involved now. You know we’re not going to let you get away with it.’

  ‘So what are you going to do? Stick me against a wall and shoot me? You’re not the type. You wouldn’t kill me in cold blood. Hand over the drugs and get back to your petty lives.’

  ‘I have an offer for you.’

  ‘Go on. Hit me with it,’ he said, sighing.

  ‘You against me. Fair fight. See who’s quickest on the draw. Winner takes the heroin and does with it what he will.’

  ‘You do know that we have target practice every fortnight in the DEA?’

  ‘We shoot for real, not for practice. How about it Toomey?’