Have a Nice Night (20 page)

Now, she began to relax. She found she was able to pray. As she prayed, her fingers caressed the shaft of the knife concealed under her black sweat shirt as the fingers of a nun would caress her rosary.

Moving silently, his sweat-beaded bald head glistening in the moonlight, Manuel crept out on the terrace. He moved forward until he could see Anita, half concealed behind the orange tree. He watched her for a long moment, then satisfied she was still praying, he returned to the living room.

'She is still at it,' he said. 'There will be no trouble.'

'Look!' Fuentes exclaimed, and pointed to the elevator door. The sign OCCUPIED had lit up.

'Now!' Manuel smiled viciously. 'The woman will come out first. I will handle her. You point the gun at the man, and remember, no shooting.'

In the private elevator that rose from the hotel lobby up to the living room of the penthouse, Maria Warrenton was in a gay mood. She had won twenty thousand dollars at the Casino.

'You see?' she said, giving Wilbur a kiss. 'I told you I was in a winning streak. Let's have champagne and caviar sandwiches. The excitement has made me hungry.'

Longing to go to bed and sleep, Wilbur forced a smile. 'If that's what you want, that's what you'll have,' he said and as the elevator came to rest, he pushed open the door, standing aside to let Maria pass him.

She walked into the living room, then came to an abrupt stop as a thick arm encircled her throat and she felt a painful prick against her cheek.

A deep, threatening voice growled in her ear, 'Scream, lady, and I'll slash you.'

The smell of body dirt and male sweat made her cringe. For a moment, she was paralyzed with shock, but there was steel in her.

'Get away from me!' she said in a low, hard voice. 'You stink!'

Wilbur found himself facing a short, fat man wearing a soiled white shirt and tattered jeans. In his right hand, he held a revolver. Wilbur's army training helped to absorb the shock, but looking at the enormous, vicious ape of a man holding his wife, his heart began to pound.

'Do you hear?' Maria said, still keeping her voice low. 'Get away from me!'

Manuel released her and stepped back, smiling.

'Don't let there be trouble,' he said, and waved a glittering stiletto knife. 'No one wants to get slashed. Just take it easy. Sit down, both of you.'

Maria looked at Wilbur and shrugged. 'A hold-up I suppose.' She went to the settee and sat down. 'What a bore!'

Marvelling at her courage and steady nerves, urged on by Fuentes, Wilbur went and sat by her side.

'Take the money,' Maria said contemptuously, 'and go away. You two stink.'

She tossed her handbag at Manuel's feet. He kicked it towards Fuentes who picked it up, opened the bag and gaped at the pile of money Maria had won at the Casino.

'Look!' he said to Manuel. 'Look!'

Manuel paid no attention. He was staring evilly at Maria.

'Yes, lady,' he said. 'We stink because we are poor. We are not like you. You also stink to me.'

He moved forward so swiftly neither Maria nor Wilbur had time to react. The glittering blade of the stiletto seemed to brush across Maria's dress. The razor sharp blade cut across the shoulder straps. The front of the dress fell into Maria's lap.

Maria stared at her ruined dress, then up at Manuel. 'You bastard!' she exclaimed, her eyes flashing.

'Yes, lady,' Manuel again smiled evilly. 'Okay, so I'm a bastard, but you are lucky. Instead of cutting your pretty dress, I could have cut your pretty face. I could have cut off the tip of your pretty nose. So you're lucky.' He moved forward. 'So from right now, lady, you keep your mouth shut. One more word out of you and you'll lose your pretty looks.'

Maria's beauty meant more to her than anything else in the world. She turned cold. Courage oozed out of her. She grabbed hold of Wilbur's hand.

Wilbur, aware that Fuentes was standing behind him, gun in hand, controlled his urge to spring at Manuel. This bald, bearded ape of a man chilled him. Looking at the evil smile, he was sure this man would disfigure Maria, given the slightest excuse.

Speaking hastily, he said, 'Maria, they are here for the diamonds. Take them off and drop them on the floor. Then they will go away.'

With trembling fingers, Maria reached for her earrings, but Manuel shook his head.

'No, lady, keep your pretty diamonds. What would a poor, stinking Cuban like me do with diamonds?' He shifted his stare to Wilbur. 'We want money, Mr. Warrenton! We want five million dollars! We don't leave here until we get this money in one hundred dollar bills!'

Wilbur stared at him. 'We haven't that amount of money. Take the diamonds and go!'

Again Manuel smiled evilly. 'Your pa has. We'll wait. Call him. Tell him unless we get five million dollars in one hundred dollar bills, I will cut your goddam ears off and I'll slice your wife's face to pieces!'

Standing in the shadows, Anita listened, her fingers still caressing the haft of her knife.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

In the safe room, with the safe door now open, Brady was unlocking the security boxes. He worked with speed and dexterity, whistling Love Is The Sweetest Thing, his favorite theme song when he was working. As he opened each box, he handed it to Bannion who emptied the contents into the brief case.

After opening fifteen boxes, Brady paused and flexed his fingers. He grinned at Bannion.

'Like a dream!' he said softly. 'Boy! This is better than picking apples.'

Bannion was aware of a far away stabbing pain. He was tense. Sweat beaded his face, but he managed a smile.

Brady turned back to open more security boxes. Thirty minutes after the two men had entered the safe room, all the security boxes were emptied.

'Okay,' Brady said, having replaced the empty boxes and shutting and relocking the safe door. 'Now for the Warrenton diamonds. Leave the case here. We'll come back the same way.'

He looked at his watch. The time was 02.50. 'They should be in bed. Gun okay, Mike?'

'Yes.'

'Then let's go.' Brady pulled down the ladder that would take them to the roof.

'I'll go first.'

Silently, he climbed the ladder, pushed open the trap door and emerged out onto the roof, overlooking the penthouse terrace. Bannion, breathing heavily, forced himself to climb the ladder. The two men stood in the semi-darkness, looking down at the lighted terrace.

Brady stiffened when he saw the living room lights were on.

'Hold it!' he whispered. 'They're not in bed yet.'

His whisper in the stillness and silence of the night carried to Anita who was standing in the shadows by the terrace door. With the swiftness of a lizard, she hid herself behind a big potted flowering shrub, kneeling down and staring up at the terrace roof. She saw two men, lit by the moonlight. The light reflected on their white shirts.

Brady surveyed the dimly lit terrace.

'Okay, Mike, we can't waste time. Let's see what's going on.'

Silently, he lowered himself from the roof to the terrace, followed by Bannion. Brady motioned Bannion to remain where he was, then he silently moved to the entrance to the living room.

Anita, crouching further into the shadows, watched him as he passed her within touching distance. He peered into the lighted living room, then he stiffened. He saw the back of a shabbily dressed man. He saw the back of the heads of Maria and Wilbur, sitting on the settee. He saw a powerfully built, bald and bearded man with a glittering stiletto knife in his hand, facing them.

In the quiet of the night, he heard this bearded man say, 'So, Mr. Warrenton, you call your pa. Tell him to bring five million dollars in cash.' The deep voice rose a note. 'You hear me?'

Brady understood the situation immediately. The Warrentons were being held for ransom. Shifting his gaze to a big mirror across the room, he could see the Warrentons, sitting side by side, a frontal exposure. He saw the woman was wearing her fabulous diamonds. He had to restrain himself from whistling Love Is The Sweetest Thing. This was going to be a pushover. He turned his head and beckoned to Bannion who came silently and joined him.

'Take the fat one first,' Brady murmured. 'Then the bald guy.' His voice was just a whisper against Bannion's ear. 'Then the other two. Fast shooting, Mike.'

Bannion drew the powerful air pistol from its holster. Still keeping in the shadows, holding the gun in both hands, his arms extended, his body in a crouch, he aimed at the back of Fuentes' fat neck.

Wilbur was saying, 'I can't call my father at this hour.'

Bannion squeezed the trigger. Wilbur's voice drowned the faint plop of the gun.

Fuentes started, then rubbed the back of his neck. 'Goddam mosquito,' he muttered.

'Call him!' Manuel barked as Bannion took aim and again squeezed the trigger. The tiny dart hit Manuel in the center of his forehead.

'Hear me! Call him right now!' He rubbed his forehead thinking, as Fuentes had thought, that he had been bitten by a mosquito.

Shifting his aim, Bannion shot the third dart into the back of Maria's neck, then again shifting his aim, shot the fourth dart into the back of Wilbur's neck. Both of them reacted, clapping their hands to their necks.

Manuel's eyes widened as he saw Fuentes drop his gun, clutch at the back of the settee, then slide out of sight. Then he too felt consciousness leaving him. He took two staggering steps forward, then like a felled tree, he smashed down on an occasional table, and spread out on the floor. Wilbur and Maria also succumbed to the powerful drug and went limp on the settee.

'Very nice,' Brady said. 'Beautiful shooting, Mike.'

Waving to Bannion to remain where he was, Brady moved into the living room. Swiftly, he removed the earrings, the collar and the two bracelets. He dropped them into a wash leather bag which he put in his pocket.

'Come on, Mike,' he said, running out onto the terrace. 'Let's go. As I told you: smooth as cream.'

The two men hoisted themselves up onto the roof and down into the safe room.

Fifteen minutes later, the contents of the security boxes and the Warrenton diamonds were on their way to Claude Kendrick.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Bannion had removed his disguise and had changed into his chauffeur's uniform. Maggie lay on the settee, her eyes closed, moaning softly to herself. Brady, paying her no attention, put a call through to Haddon who was waiting.

'Perfect, Ed,' he said. 'Worked like a charm. No problems.'

'Well done,' Haddon said and hung up.

Bannion came into the living room, carrying a suitcase. 'Lu, there's an early plane to Los Angeles. I must get it.' His white face and sunken eyes told their story. 'I can't wait. Okay?'

'Sure,' Brady said, 'The porter will get you a taxi.'

He went to Bannion. 'Don't worry, Mike. You've done a swell job. The money will go to the doctor. You have my word.'

The two men shook hands, then Brady called the night porter for a taxi.

Maggie sat up. 'You're going to see Chrissy, Mike?'

'Yes.'

'We'll miss you.' She slid off the settee and kissed him. 'Keep in touch. Lu, give him our telephone number.'

Brady shook his head. 'No. If something happened to Bannion and the telephone number was found on him it could lead to trouble.'

Bannion understood. 'That's okay,' he said. 'It's better this way.' He heard the sound of the approaching taxi. 'I'll get off.'

He looked at Brady. 'Bye and so long.'

He gave Maggie a gentle pat on her shoulder. 'It's been great knowing you,' he said, then nodding to Brady, he left the chalet.

They listened to the sound of the taxi as it drove away.

'Is something wrong?' Maggie asked. 'He looked so sad.'

'Let's get some sleep,' Brady said curtly. 'Come on, Maggie! I'm tired if you're not.'

'But, Lu, for him to go off like that! He looks so ill. There is something wrong, isn't there?'

Brady put his arm around her and moved her towards the bedroom.

'He's worried about his daughter. Everyone these days has worries. Let's get some sleep. I'm tired.'

'You're tired!' Maggie snorted. 'That guy was like a sex-starved bull! Tired? I'm dead!'

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

From the terrace, Anita moved like a phantom to the doors of the penthouse living room. There she paused and looked at the bodies of Manuel and Fuentes lying as if dead. She looked at the inert bodies of the Warrentons on the settee.

She had watched Brady and Bannion climb up on the penthouse roof and disappear. She had watched Bannion using some kind of gun that was practically noiseless, and here was the result!

Cautiously, she entered the living room. On the floor by Fuentes, was a revolver. She snatched it up and backed away. Her unhinged mind worked slowly. It was more than five minutes before she accepted the fact that these two men who had brought disaster into her life, lay at her mercy.

She approached Fuentes and kicked him savagely in the face. When he didn't react, she became relaxed, and a cruel, crazy smile lit up her face. She put down the gun and fingered the haft of her knife. A murderous surge ran through her to cut this man who had tempted Pedro: cut him to pieces. Then she paused and surveyed this deluxe room and at the lush carpet she had cleaned so many times. It was a beautiful carpet. How often, when she had been using a vacuum cleaner, had she wished to own such a carpet!

She put the knife back into its sheaf, then catching hold of Fuentes' ankles, she dragged him out onto the terrace. She left him lying in a patch of moonlight and returned to the living room.

She stood over Manuel, staring down at him. Had he lied to her? She felt sure he had, but, after his dramatic speech that his friend at the hospital had lied to him, she was unsure.

Then she remembered the device that would explode the bombs. Kneeling, she searched Manuel's pockets. No device. So he had lied to her!

She had a struggle to move Manuel's great body, but determination lent her strength. She was panting by the time she got Manuel lying by Fuentes' side.