Short Straw (6 page)

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Authors: Stuart Woods

Tags: #Suspense, #Thriller, #Mystery

BOOK: Short Straw
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“Well, Mr. Eagle, if you will give me a notarized affidavit to that effect, I will stop further withdrawals on the remaining balance in Mrs. Eagle’s account, pending the results of an investigation by my bank.”


Remaining
funds? How much is still in the account?”

“On Friday last, on faxed instructions of Mrs. Eagle, I wired three hundred thousand dollars to a bank in Puerto Vallarta, and this morning I was going to wire further amounts to banks in Cozumel and Rio de Janeiro, but I have not yet done so.”

“Mr. Rodriguez, I will fax you a notarized affidavit within the hour, and I will FedEx the original document today for delivery tomorrow. How long will your investigation take?”

“It will take a day or two to appoint an outside investigator, for purposes of objectivity. He will interview both you and Mrs. Eagle and anyone else necessary, then submit his recommendations. I should think this would take ten days to two weeks. Then the board of the bank will make a judgment on the matter, so in all, two to three weeks, I imagine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez. I am pleased that we have been able to avoid a complex international legal action in this matter. You will have the fax of the affidavit this morning. May I speak to Mr. Norris, please?”

“Ed?”

“Russell, that was brilliant; thank you.”

“Ed, I think it would be a good idea if I stayed on here long enough to talk personally to the bank’s investigator.”

Eagle thought about this. “Good idea. I’ve already impressed on Mr. Rodriguez the possibility of legal action, should we not get a favorable solution.”

“Good. I’ll be in touch.”

Eagle hung up the phone and buzzed for Betty. He felt enormously relieved. If he could get out of this with the loss of only three hundred thousand, he’d be a very lucky man.

Betty came in.

“Take an affidavit,” Eagle said.

Eleven

V
ITTORIO LEFT THE PUERTO VALLARTA AIRPORT, TOSSED
his carry-on into the back of a taxi and got in.

“Buenos días, señor,” the driver said.

“Amigo,” Vittorio replied, “what are the three best hotels in Puerto Vallarta?”

“Well, señor, there are many fine hotels, but if I must, I will name three.” He did so.

“Okay, let’s start with those.” Vittorio broke the seal on the box containing his guns, which he had checked through, and returned them and the magazines to his holsters. The first two desk clerks took his money and denied all knowledge of Barbara Eagle, under any name. At the third hotel, the clerk came up with a guest named Barbara Kennerly.

“Is Señorita Kennerly in her room now?” Vittorio asked.

“No, I saw her walk through the lobby in her swimsuit a few minutes ago, toward the pool,” the clerk said.

Vittorio asked for a room and checked in. Upstairs, he got into his swimsuit and put the Keltec .380 and his cell phone into his small briefcase, got into the provided robe and walked down to the pool.

Barbara Eagle was lying in the hot sun, lotion lathered on her very handsome body, reading a paperback book.

Vittorio waved at a waiter.

“What may I get you, señor?” the man asked.

“A Diet Coke. And tell me, can guests receive phone calls at the pool?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you take a phone to a guest?”

“No, sir. A guest receiving a call would need to go to the outside bar to receive it.”

“Thank you.” The man went to get his drink, and Vittorio called Ed Eagle.

“Vittorio? Where are you?”

“In Puerto Vallarta.”

“Any luck yet?”

“I’m looking at her across a swimming pool.”

“Can you get her on the phone?”

“Hang on a minute.” The waiter was returning with his Diet Coke. “You see the woman, there?” he asked nodding.

“Yes, señor.”

“I want you to take her this cell phone. Her name is Señorita Kennerly. Tell her she has a call and hand her the phone.” He gave the man the phone and a ten-dollar bill. “Keep an eye on her, and be sure you get the phone back when she hangs up.”

“Yes, señor.” The man placed the open cell phone on his tray and walked around the pool. Vittorio watched sidelong through his sunglasses as the waiter approached. She stared at him for a moment, then picked up the phone.

 

“H
ELLO
?”

“Hello, Barbara,” Eagle said.

“I’ve nothing to say to you,” she said.

“You don’t have as much money as you think.”

“What?”

“I stopped the wire transfer from the brokerage house, and the funds still in the Mexico City account have been frozen.”

There was a long silence. “What do you want, Ed?”

“A divorce. You can keep the three hundred grand you’ve still got, and, of course, you have your jewelry. You can get by on that until another patsy comes along.”

“You bastard,” she said.

“In a few minutes, there will be a file waiting for you at the front desk of your hotel; it contains six sheets of blank paper. All you have to do is to sign at the bottom of each sheet and give the file back to the desk clerk, and it will be done. I’ll send the final papers to you wherever you wish for another signature. We will never have to see each other or speak again.”

“Ed, you think you know what’s happening, but you don’t.”

“Barbara, I don’t
care
what’s happening. Just do as I ask, and it’s over. You don’t want to get in court with me; I think you know that.”

“It won’t be over.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to go into it now.”

“You don’t have to; just sign the sheets of paper.”

“You could put anything you wanted above my signature,” she said.

“I could, but I give you my word that all I will put on the paper will be a brief agreement giving you three hundred thousand dollars and terminating your marital rights.”

“And if I don’t sign the papers?”

“Then you will subject yourself to a punishing legal process, and, given your criminal record, you will very likely go to prison.”

“Ed, do you think I’m stupid? I haven’t broken any laws.”

“Barbara, if you believe that you can escape the legal process, then you have been very badly advised.”

“You don’t know what advice I’ve taken.”

“Whatever that advice is, what good has it done you? If you’d simply divorced me you’d have gotten a decent settlement, but instead, you tried to steal from me. I don’t understand how you could have been so stupid.”

“You are the one who’s stupid.”

“Don’t you realize that you’ve shot a man? That’s illegal, even in Mexico. Do you want to end up in a Mexican jail? Do you have any idea what that would be like? I can assure you it would be very different from the country club where you did your previous time. Sign the papers, and I’ll see that all that goes away; no charges will be pressed.”

The line suddenly went dead.

 

V
ITTORIO WATCHED
as the waiter collected the cell phone from Barbara Eagle and walked around the pool toward him. It began ringing as the waiter approached. He grabbed it.

“Hello?”

“It’s Eagle. She hung up on me. Get her signature on those sheets of paper; I don’t care how you do it.”

“All right. Any other instructions?”

“Don’t let her get away from you until she signs.”

“Right.” Vittorio closed the phone, picked up his briefcase and walked into the hotel. He went to the front desk and asked for the manager. When the man appeared, Vittorio showed him ten one-hundred-dollar bills and explained to him that they would be his, if a desk clerk would inform him if Ms. Kennerly decided to check out and, further, to delay her departure for ten minutes. The man accepted the offer with alacrity, and Vittorio gave him five of the bills. He added a hundred to the offer, in exchange for a key card to her room. “It is purely a domestic matter,” he explained. “Her husband wishes to speak with her.”

 

E
AGLE SAT AT HIS DESK
and thought. What was the matter with the woman? He had offered her an easy way out. She had behaved stupidly, but she seemed to think he was the stupid one. What the hell was going on?

Twelve

V
ITTORIO RETURNED TO HIS ROOM, DRESSED AND PACKED
his things. He had a feeling that Barbara Eagle would be leaving the hotel shortly. As if to confirm his judgment, the phone rang.

“Yes?”

“It is the manager, señor. Señorita Kennerly has ordered a taxi in thirty minutes’ time.”

“Thank you. You’ll have the rest of the money shortly.” He took his bag and briefcase down to the front desk, paid the manager and asked him to keep his bags for a few minutes. He removed the file from his briefcase and went upstairs. First, he listened at Barbara’s door, but he heard nothing. He looked at the surrounding doors and judged the size of her room, then he put an ear to the wall twenty feet down the hallway. He could hear water running, probably the shower.

Vittorio went back to the door, inserted the key card and cracked the door. He could hear the shower running. He let himself in and took a seat at a table in the corner, facing the open bathroom door, then put the file on the table and waited. A moment later the water was turned off, and he heard the shower door open and close. Perhaps ten seconds later, Barbara Eagle walked into the room, naked.

Vittorio hadn’t expected that. She was still wet, and for a woman who must have been forty, she looked spectacular. Her breasts were high, the nipples erect, her belly flat, all her pubic hair waxed away. She had a small tattoo of a bright yellow sunflower between her breasts.

“Good afternoon,” he said, putting a finger to the brim of his hat.

She did not move. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

“There are six sheets of paper in this file,” he said, tapping the file with a finger. “Sign each of them at the bottom, and I’ll leave you in peace.” She continued to stare at him and he at her, but she still made no move toward the table or to cover her body.

“If you don’t sign them, I am authorized to persuade you. I think I would enjoy that.” He knew from his experience that people, especially women, often found his appearance threatening, and he used this to his advantage. He actually considered himself a peaceful, nonviolent person, but threat had its uses.

“I’ll get a pen,” she said, nodding at her purse on the bed. She took a step toward it.

“Stop,” he said, opening his jacket, so she could see the gun at his waist. He took a pen from his jacket pocket and placed it on the file. “Use mine,” he said.

She did not move, just stared at him.

“It would be a mistake to try with me what you did to the other fellow,” Vittorio said. “In fact, he is on his way here at this very moment. I think it would be good for you to be gone before he arrives.”

She still just stood there.

Vittorio reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small plastic box cutter, bright orange. With a thumb, he extended the blade to its maximum, about three inches. “You have such a beautiful body,” he said. “It would be a shame to have it scarred.”

A shudder ran through her. She walked over to the table, picked up the pen, opened the file and signed all six pages at the bottom. “There,” she said. “You can tell him it’s not over.” She walked back to the bathroom door, then stopped and turned. “Now get out of my room.”

Vittorio put a finger to the brim of his hat, took the file and left. He was surprised it had been so easy. He collected his bag and got into a cab for the airport, still thinking about the beautiful, naked body. He was halfway to the airport when a trace of doubt drifted across his mind. He opened his briefcase and took out the file. Each of the pages was signed, perfectly legibly, “Minnie Mouse.”

“Turn around,” he said to the driver. She was a smart woman. She had known he would be looking at her tits, instead of her signature.

As his cab turned around, another taxi passed them, and Vittorio caught sight of Cupie Dalton in the rear seat. When he had told Barbara that Cupie was on his way, he had been bluffing, but there he was. Ten minutes later, they arrived simultaneously at the hotel.

“Wait for me,” he said to the driver.

Cupie got out of his cab, his left arm in a sling. “Oh, there you are.”

Vittorio said nothing. He walked into the hotel and went to the front desk, where the manager stood. Cupie followed.

“Señor,” he said.

“Is she still here?”

“She left in a taxi five minutes ago.”

“She’s gone?” Cupie asked.

“It seems so,” Vittorio replied. “Come on.” He went outside and waved a twenty at the doorman. “The tall American woman, which way did she go?”

The doorman pocketed the twenty and pointed down the road, away from the airport. “That way, señor,” he said.

“What kind of car and what color was the taxi?”

“It was a Ford, dark blue.”

Vittorio beckoned to Cupie and got back into his waiting cab.

Cupie tossed his bag into the front seat and got into the back with Vittorio.

“That way,” Vittorio said to the driver, pointing. “Find a dark blue Ford taxi.”

“Sí, señor,” the driver said.

“And go fast.”

“Sí, señor.”

“What happened? “Cupie asked.

“She signed the papers.”

“Then why are we chasing her?”

“She signed somebody else’s name.”

“And you didn’t check the signature before you let her go?”

“My attention was diverted,” Vittorio said. “Now, please shut up and look for the taxi.”

Thirteen

J
OE BIG BEAR WAS LET OUT OF HIS JAIL CELL AT THE SANTA
Fe County Corrections Center and allowed into the yard for exercise. He found a shady spot in the shadow of the building, near a corner and sat down; he liked to stay as far as possible from the other inmates. These people were criminals, and he had nothing in common with them. He wished he could smoke, but he had given up cigarettes three years before.

He stretched out his legs and rested his head against the side of the building. There was a little breeze, and for a few minutes, at least, he could forget he was in jail. He was aware of the murmur of voices around the corner from him, only a few feet away, but he had no interest in what other inmates might have to say. Until he heard the name Ed Eagle.

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