Стюарт Вудс - Contraband

“I’ll make a call,” Dino said.

“We’ll need to stake out his airstrip,” Stone said, “if we’re going to get access to the airplane.”

“That, I think I can manage,” Max said. “Dino, what do you hope to learn from tracking the airplane?”

“I hope to learn where he transfers his cargo, and I’d like to know what he offloads onto.”

“My guess would be something like a shrimp boat,” Max said. “They fish out in the Gulf, so they wouldn’t attract any notice.”

“Then I’d like to know where the shrimp boat, or whatever it is, goes to unload the cargo.”

“Probably somewhere on the Gulf Coast of Florida,” Max said, “or it could be as far as Alabama or New Orleans.”

“Wherever it is, we need to know,” Dino said.

“I take it you expect the goods to end up in New York,” Max said.

“I do, or it could just be the cash that ends up there.”

“Whoever is delivering,” Stone pointed out, “isn’t going to be delivering anymore — at least, not to the same address.”

“Good point.”

“What was the name of that bookie Randy was betting with? Somebody who used to work for Datilla the Hun, before his timely death.”

“I don’t remember his name,” Dino said, “but I’ll make a call.”

“Seems like if Randy picked up on these smugglable goods, he would look for partners among his mob connections. I mean, he wouldn’t run down to his bank and say, ‘I’ve got this great investment idea, and I need a loan.’”

“Okay, I’ll get my people to turn Little Italy upside down and see what shakes out.”

“And I’ll get the landing strip staked out,” Max said, “and revisit Dixie’s nearest and dearest, such as they are, and see if I can get a line on where he’s living now.”

“An excellent start,” Stone said. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Bacchetti, you’re both looking a bit peaked. Why don’t you take my car home, and I’ll hitch a ride in the morning.”

“I’m just getting started,” Dino said, sitting up.

“Get your ass out of here, Dino,” Stone said, “and be quick about it.”

“Come on, Dino,” Viv said. “Stone and Max have other things on their minds.”

“Oh, well,” he said, getting to his feet.

Viv kissed him on the cheek. “And, if you’re still wide awake when we get home, I’ll see if I can think of a way to entertain you.”

The Bacchettis left, and Max and Stone hurried upstairs.

Stone’s phone rang at seven AM; he groped the bedside table until he found it. “What?” he said irritably.

“Hedger’s bookie’s name is Pantero,” Dino said. “And the tracking gear is being shipped this morning, will be here mid-morning tomorrow. It was sent to Max’s address.”

“Did you order somebody to install it?” Stone asked grumpily.

“I figure that, between us, we can get it to work.”

“Electronic geniuses that we are?”

“What we need is your guy, Bob Cantor,” Dino said.

“And who’s paying and transporting him?”

“First, let’s see if Max knows somebody, before we start infringing on my discretionary budget.”

“You have a discretionary budget?” Stone asked.

“Maybe,” Dino said.

“Go ahead, admit it.”

“If I do that you’ll stop coming up with more ideas that make me infringe on it.”

Stone felt Max’s hand working its way up the inside of his thigh. “Let’s talk later,” he said. He hung up and rolled toward Max, who had reached home base. “Good morning,” he said.

“We’ll see,” she said, taking hold of a handful of hair and pulling his head down to her crotch. “I believe you may be right,” she said as she warmed to his touch. “It is a good morning.”

When they had exhausted each other, Stone made a stab at getting down to business. “The tracking device has shipped to your address and will be delivered tomorrow morning. Do you know an aircraft avionics technician?”

“A what?”

“Somebody who works on aircraft radios and other instruments.”

“Legally?”

“If you insist. Dino and I are on your turf.”

“I mean, I know a guy who used to do that for a living, but he did a little time for possession, and the FAA yanked his license.”

“I don’t much care about his paperwork. Dino has ordered the airplane tracking gear, and we need somebody to install it.”

“Then Hobo is your guy.”

“I don’t need a hobo,” Stone said, “just a technician.”

“Hobo is what they call him, because that’s what he looks like. I mean, he’s not going to show up in freshly pressed coveralls.”

“I don’t care about his wardrobe. Just get hold of him, will you?”

“I’d rather get hold of you,” she said.

“After breakfast,” Stone replied. “I need my strength.”

“You keep a girl waiting for weeks, then you want to talk about installation? Install this,” she said, giving it a squeeze and getting a reply.

“After breakfast.” Stone sighed, then rolled over to deny her access.

After breakfast and another tussle with Max, Stone found himself on the phone with Hobo.

“What can I do you for?” the man asked.

“I need a piece of electronic equipment installed in a light aircraft.”

“What kind? Garmin? King?”

“Let’s just say it’s of indeterminate origin.”

“You make it yourself?”

“Somebody made it, but we weren’t introduced.”

“Does it need wiring?”

“It’s going to need a power supply and an antenna connection,” Stone said.

“Is it going to blow up and kill somebody?”

“Nothing like that. It’s going to broadcast a signal.”

“Where do you want it on the airplane?”

“Someplace where it won’t be noticed by the pilot.”

“I see,” Hobo said, as if he didn’t see. “When can I take a look at it?”

“It won’t be here until mid-morning tomorrow,” Stone said. “How about if Max picks you up around then.”

“Let me speak to Max again,” he said. Stone handed her the phone.

“Yeah, Hobo?”

“Is this legit?” Hobo asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m still on parole, and I don’t want to get shipped back to the farm.”

“Hobo, if this were legit, I’d be calling a licensed avionics shop.”

“There’s a lot of risk involved here. How much are we talking about?”

Max covered the phone and spoke to Stone: “What are you paying?”

“What do you suggest?”

“Five hundred ought to get him out of bed.”

“Okay.”

“Hobo, it’s five hundred for a couple hours’ work.”

“Daytime or nighttime?”

“What do you care? You want the job?”

“Yeah, okay, but only because it’s you.”

“It’s not me, and don’t tell anybody it is, understand?”

“I got it.”

“I’ll call you and arrange a time to pick you up. We have to wait for FedEx.”

“Okay, I’ll be right here.”

Max hung up. “He’s not as flaky as he sounds,” she said.

“I hope not,” Stone replied.

“He looks as flaky as he is, though.”

“Tell him to take a shower and change clothes before we meet. We’ll be working in small spaces, I expect.”

“I know. We also have to ascertain that the airplane is where it used to be. I’ll get a patrol car to take a look.”

“Oh, and when you call him back, tell him to bring his own tools.”

“What tools will he need?”

“He’ll know,” Stone replied.

There was a shout from downstairs.

“Gimme ten!” Max shouted. “It’s Tommy, my partner.”

“We met before,” Stone said, “when he picked you up at the yacht.”