H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre (31 page)

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Authors: H.J. Gaudreau

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - Treasure Hunt

BOOK: H.J. Gaudreau - Betrayal in the Louvre
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Chapter 7

 

Sol rented a room above a small meat market.  Mr. Spadoff went home for the day at six, the market was closed, lights off.  They circled the block twice.  Sol was careful to keep his speed up and tried not to draw attention to the car.  Nothing moved, no one sat in some dark car.  It looked normal. 

On the third trip past the store they slowed to a crawl and Dolly peered through the windows inside the market.  A small red glow flared in the back behind the meat counter.  Dolly spotted the cigarette just as Sol began to brake, intending to park next to the front door.  “GO, GO, GO!!” she yelled.

Sol stepped on the gas and the Chrysler lurched forward, caught its wind and sped off.  The door of the meat market burst open and two men ran out.  By the time they reached their car Sol and Dolly were ghosts in the night.

Thirty minutes later, certain they’d not been followed, Sol turned off Jefferson Avenue and coasted to a stop ten yards from the boathouse.  Sol moved Dolly’s two bags from the car to the Chris-Craft. 

“We’re all set doll.  I just need one thing.  Run up there to the market and get me a razor and some blades would ya?  A man’s gotta look presentable when we get to Canada.”

“Where’s the market?”  Dolly asked.

Sol walked Dolly to the door and pointed.  “Around that shed, up the hill, between those two warehouses and down the street to the corner.”  Dolly agreed and was on her way. 

Sol watched Dolly as she rounded the small tool shed and walked to the alley leading to the street.  “She’s got a great ass,” he said to himself.  He then turned and headed into the boathouse.  Sol boarded the Chris-Craft and quickly checked the forward liquor hole.  No one had tampered with it; the money was safe.  He jumped to the side of the boathouse and grabbed a hose connected to two fifty-five gallon drums.  The drums were on an elevated stand and gravity fed the hose.  It took twenty minutes to fill the fuel tanks.  When he had finished Sol checked his watch, muttered “Damn, bet she got lost.  Where the hell is she?”  Unfortunately, it was a question that Sol would never have answered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE

COLLINGWOOD

LEGACY

 

 

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