Long Way Down (27 page)

Within a couple of minutes J.T. located a hospital on the outskirts of town, and they rode the rest of the way in silence. They found the place, and Sam steered into the driveway designated for ambulances and stopped a few feet from the entrance.

La Salle opened the door and said, “We’ll finish this later.” He got out of the car, holding his gun hand behind the case, and staggered toward the door.

Sam drove away, watching in the rearview mirror as La Salle dropped his free hand by his side and went into the building.

“He didn’t have the gun,” Sam said. “Check the back seat.”

J.T. reached into the floor behind Sam’s seat and came back with La Salle’s gun. “Yeah, here it is. His head must have been working okay. He knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to go into the ER carrying a gun that had just been used to kill three men.”

J.T. wiped down the gun, and twenty minutes later he tossed it out the window as they crossed the Miami river.

The clock on the dash read 3:00 AM, so the man with the boat had already taken their retainer and gone home. They drove to a hotel on Miami Beach, and after checking in Sam went to his room and called Candi’s cell phone. She answered after several rings, sounding sleepy.

“Where are you?” Sam asked.

“I just got back to the island. Why?”

“La Salle is still alive.”

“What do you mean?” Sleep left her voice and alarm took its place. “I saw him fall and he looked dead.”

“Yes, he did. But we just dropped him off at the hospital ER and he walked in the door. You need to get out of there as soon as you can.”

Candi was silent for a moment and said, “He won’t be able to get back to the island before morning. I’ll leave at first light.”

They said their goodbyes and Sam hung up. His phone chirped before he dropped it on the nightstand. It was J.T.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know about something. You know when you called me from your cell phone before you went out on the airstrip to meet La Salle?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I connected the phone to my computer and started a recording. I didn’t get a chance to break the connection until we got in the car to take La Salle to the ER.”

“Why would you record the conversation?”

J.T. hesitated before saying, “I guess I wanted something I could pinch La Salle with, in case he flew in there, and, you know…took the statue and blew you away.”

Silence. A couple of seconds passed. Sam knew J.T.’s reason had to be a self-serving one.

J.T. continued, “I checked out the recording, and it picked up everything. Barge admitted stealing the statue from the museum and gave the order to execute us. La Salle admitted killing Philly Moran and the man on the plane, and as much as admitted killing Miro. I’m not sure what it’s worth, now that you’re okay, but it seems like it could come in handy.”

Maybe it could.

“Can you clean it up, take out the parts we don’t want in there?”

“Sure.”

They hung up and Sam went to bed and slept until 10:00 AM. Sun shone through the window and a gull stood on the patio ledge, squawking. Vacationers probably fed the gulls regularly, and this one had come by for his snack. Sam got up, showered and called J.T. They met in the restaurant at 10:45 and had breakfast.

J.T. remained quiet for most of the meal, probably thinking about the fortune he almost had. Finally, he said, “There’s something I wish you’d explain to me.”

“Sure.” Sam poured a second cup of coffee and stirred in cream and sugar.

“Why’d you tell La Salle the statue’s a fake?”

“I was hoping he wouldn’t take it.”

J.T. raised an eyebrow. “That’s the only reason?”

“What other reason would there be?”

J.T. nodded. “Okay, that’s what I thought.”

“You get a chance to work on the recording?”

J.T. nodded. “The quality’s almost perfect. I enhanced the voices and eliminated most of the background noise.”

They paid for breakfast and left the hotel. Sam called Jack Craft on his boat line and told him they would drop by.

“Sure,” Jack said, “I heard from Gideon. Sounds like we should celebrate.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you might hold the beer for later.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

They drove to the marina and parked, and went straight to
The Clipper
. Jack stood on the deck, waiting, and asked them inside. He offered them something to drink and they both declined. They sat in the chairs in the lounge and Jack raised an eyebrow.

“So, what’s the problem?”

“No problem. I just wanted to let you in on something.”

Jack leaned back and crossed his legs. “Tell me.”

“I want to ask you something first.” Sam said.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did Barge hold you responsible for La Salle stealing his collection?”

Jack looked at them and smiled. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I met Thomas Beeker--the guy who became La Salle--in Mexico City several years ago. He worked for the Government, investigating a company that did business with Gideon Barge. The man who owned the company asked me to talk with Beeker and try to get him to back off. Beeker was pretty ruthless, even back then, and I sensed that he could be paid off. I negotiated a settlement, so to speak. Beeker wanted me to recommend him for a job as a security consultant with Gideon Barge. I think you can figure out the rest.”

Sam shook his head, wondering how Jack had lived as long as he had.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Sam smiled and said, “Nothing,” then nodded at J.T. “Play the recording.”

J.T. opened his computer and played the part to do with Gideon Barge. The voices came to life; J.T. had altered his own voice and Sam’s to sound like those of other people, and had taken out any references to their names.

The recording finished and Jack’s eyes tightened at the corners, as if he might smile. “Pretty damaging stuff for someone like Gideon Barge. There are probably a dozen people who would love to have that recording.”

“I’d say.”

“Why did you play it for me?”

“We gave Barge a fake statue.”

Jack’s eyes widened and he stood up and stepped to the bar. “I see,” he said over his shoulder. “Sure I can’t get you something?”

“Yeah, we’ll take whatever you’re having,” J.T. said.

Jack came back with the glasses and handed them out. He sat back down, took a long drink, and sighed.

“Barge certainly thought it was real from the way he sounded when he called.”

“It’s a good fake.”

Jack shrugged. “Then he might never know the difference, unless someone tells him.”

“That’s right.”

“What are you going to do with the recording?”

Sam smiled. “I’m going to give it to you.”

Chapter 27

T
HEY RODE to the bank and cleaned out the safe deposit box. Back in the car, Sam counted the money, gave J.T. half, and said, “You can have all the gold pieces we found, too.”

J.T. glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Sam started the car. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’ll probably hang around and soak up some rays. I can find a buyer for these things better in Miami than up north.”

Sam drove to the car rental agency and picked up his own car. J.T. took the Chevy and said he would turn it in before he left town. They agreed to meet back at Sam’s boat in a couple of hours and have a celebration drink.

****

SAM PARKED his car next to the Custom Parts building and went inside. Lenny Berne heard the bell on the door and came into the office.

“I hoped you would forget about coming back.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Sam said.

Lenny opened his safe and took out the package wrapped in newspaper.

Sam peeled away the paper and looked at the statue. It looked exactly as it had when he’d left it there. “Are we square on the bill?”

“Sure, the rest of that gold is going to get me out of debt. I wasn’t so sure when you called back and asked for two copies, but there was plenty left. What are you going to do now that you’re a rich man?”

Sam glanced at Lenny. “What makes you say that?”

Lenny leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I checked it out on the Internet. That thing has to be worth at least seventy or eighty million dollars.”

Sam smiled.
Yes, at least
.

“Thanks, for holding it for me,” Sam said, ignoring Lenny’s question.

He rewrapped the statue and put it inside a bag Lenny gave him.

“Let me know if anything else like this comes along,” Lenny said.

“I’ll do that.” They shook hands and Sam left.

****

J.T. SHOWED up at two o’clock with a bottle of champagne. He also had a girl with him, and Prince Alfred followed them down the dock. The dog saw Sam standing on the boat and trotted across the gangway. Sam reached down and scratched his ears. Whatever injuries Grimes had inflicted on him seemed to be gone.

“I thought you’d want to see him,” J.T. said, nodding toward Prince Alfred. “This is Amy. She patched him up after Grimes hit him with the crutch. He had a small gash on his jaw and she took a couple of stitches.”

Prince Alfred turned and saw a pelican squatted on a dock timber. He licked his lips and laid down on his stomach on the deck, his eyes glued to the bird.

Amy had long dark hair, blue eyes, and a blushing smile. Very attractive. She leaned against J.T. and caressed the back of his neck. J.T.’s face turned red and he pulled her toward a chair under the awning.

“Amy worked for a vet, but Grimes shot him and now she’s out of a job. I’m going to help her set up a pet grooming business. She’s really good with animals.”

Sam wondered why Grimes would shoot a veterinarian, and decided he didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to be reminded of Grimes any more than he had to.

J.T. popped the cork on the champagne and filled glasses from the galley. He passed them out and clinked his with Sam’s and Amy’s.

Prince Alfred got tired of watching the bird, saw some fish jump, and dived into the water. He looked like an otter swimming toward the school of skipjack.

“Amy and I are going down to Grand Cayman for awhile. Why don’t you and Candi tag along?”

Sam nodded absently. He’d spoken with her right after visiting Lenny Berne. “Candi wants the recording. She gave me an e-mail address you can use.”

“Yeah, okay. What about Grand Cayman?”

“I’ll check with her.”

They drank the entire bottle, then went to the marina restaurant and had several more drinks and dinner while Prince Alfred guarded the boat. After that, they brought a piece of steak back for the dog and J.T. and Amy left with him for parts unknown. Sam went inside and tried to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t shut down. He still had questions, like what Gideon Barge might do if he found out about the fake statue, and how Jack would take him down. He also wondered about Grimes. They hadn’t seen him since they left him unconscious inside the seaplane in the Keys. And Sam contemplated what he would do with the real statue that now rested in the secret storage spot in his closet. If he sold it he’d never have to work again. Maybe buy an island of his own, get a bigger boat, sail around the world. He wondered if the statue could be sold without Gideon Barge getting wind of it. Finally, after a few minutes, he fell asleep, and a dream vision of Candi climbed into his bed.

****

TWO WEEKS later, J.T. sat in the shade of the hotel cabana on Grand Cayman, watching Amy sunbathe by the pool.

“She’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Yes, she is,” Sam said. He found himself marveling at J.T.’s good fortune, meeting someone like her at the airstrip while Grimes did his dirty work inside the hangar.

They had been at the hotel for two days.

“When will Candi get here?”

“Tomorrow,” Sam said. “She had to wrap up a few things.”

J.T. nodded, eyes behind the sunglasses still on Amy. “You know, I think we might find a few more gold pieces on that wrecked plane if we dive it.”

Sam took a sip of his beer and put it on the table next to his lounge chair.

“What about La Salle’s set-up? We might be killed by one of his missiles.”

J.T. shook his head. “I went out there last night and La Salle’s men had left. The computer was still running, so I disabled the program, shut down the system, and pulled the plug.”

“They’ve abandoned the place?”

“Looks that way, but if they come back, it’ll take them weeks to fix what I did, if they can do it at all.”

Sam nodded, not too sure he wanted to go back down to that plane. At night when he dozed off, he still could see the man belted in the seat, hair swirling above his dead face.

“Let me think about it.”

“I rented a fast boat and some diving gear. We pick it up tonight at ten.”

“How long will it take us to get there?”

J.T. shrugged. “Couple hours, maybe, no more.”

****

J.T. HAD rented a thirty foot boat.

“You sure this is big enough?” Sam said. “We have to go sixty or seventy miles. It could get rough out there.”

J.T. looked up at the night sky. “It’s clear as a bell. This should do it.”

They would be a long way from anything when they reached their destination, and thirty feet of boat seemed pretty small in all that water. Sam had the satellite phone he’d taken from the thug who worked for Barge, but he wasn’t sure who he would call if they had a problem.

They left the dock at 10:15 and ran the engine full throttle for almost three hours before reaching the coordinates. Sam had looked at his watch several times in the last half hour while glancing at the GPS unit. The water remained smooth, with almost no chop. They dropped anchor, suited up and checked out their gear and lights. Everything seemed to work, so they went into the water about 1:30 AM.

The plane and its surroundings looked the same as they had left it. They went straight to the broken wing and sifted through the sand around it, finding nothing for almost an hour. Then J.T. uncovered another bird of prey, larger than the last, and another small cup.