Стюарт Вудс - Contraband

“Tell me more names.”

“I heard him mention two: Hedger and...”

“C’mon, Dixie.”

“I’m thinking. No, it’s gone. It was a famous name, like an artist’s.”

“Am I supposed to guess?”

“It’ll come to me.”

“Make it come to you faster.”

“Who makes them little floating things?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, them little floating things that folks hang over kids’ cradles to keep ’em quiet, you know?”

“Mobiles?”

“That’s right!”

“The name was Mobile?”

“Naw. I saw one in an art gallery once, with the artist’s name on a card in the window. It was fucking expensive, too.”

“Alexander Calder?”

“That’s it! Not the first one, the second one.”

“Just ‘Calder’?”

“That was the name Mr. McWilliam used.”

Stone, Dino, and Viv were sitting on the fantail, sipping gimlets, when Max trudged up the boarding steps and flopped down amongst them. Dino came to her immediate rescue with a gimlet from the bottle in the ice machine.

“You look a little frazzled,” Stone said.

“If you had spent most of your day locked in a little room with Al Dix, you’d be frazzled, too.” She raised her glass and took a gulp.

“We’ve been waiting all day to hear from the FBI guy in Naples,” Dino said.

“Nothing?” Max asked.

“Nada, zip.”

“The feds are slow to respond when they’re on the giving end of the conversation. They’re very quick when they’re asking.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dino said.

“Looks like we’re going to have to wing our way back to New York tomorrow,” Stone said. “Dino’s pretending he has to get back to work.”

“Dino is working here,” Max said. “I’ll vouch for him.”

“They work who also sit and wait for answers,” Dino said.

“I’m sure someone will point out that you can wait for answers in New York,” Viv said.

“What are we doing for dinner?” Max asked.

“We have a table at Louie’s Backyard in an hour,” Stone replied.

Max drained her glass and set it down. “Well then, I’d better go leap into a shower to get Al Dix’s breath washed off. See you shortly.” She went below.

“So,” Dino said to Stone, “why do you want to rush back to New York? More time with Robbie?”

“I’m steering clear of Robbie from now on,” Stone replied.

“How come?”

“Well, she tends to pounce, sometimes at inopportune moments.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Also, she’s still a murder suspect,” Stone said. “I’m not comfortable with that.”

“That’s Herbie’s problem,” Dino pointed out.

“Yeah, and Herbie’s not comfortable with it, either.”

“She’s going to be a richer lady, what with her newfound cash supply,” Dino said.

“Well, I don’t know if Herbie has mustered the courage yet to tell her that she is going to have to pay income tax on all of Randy’s estate, unless his accountant can show that he’s already submitted a tax return and a check to cover it. And from what we know of Randy, I don’t think he would have taken that step, otherwise the cash would be in his bank account instead of his safe.”

“You have a point,” Dino said. “But she’ll still come out a winner. She has his apartment and the furnishings. That’s gotta be worth a lot.”

“Do you think Randy really managed to fix horse races?” Stone asked.

“My people checked with the tracks. He hasn’t won more than a thousand bucks in the past three months.”

“He probably bet with his bookie and got better odds.”

Dino laughed. “If he’d bet with a bookie and won that kind of money, he’d more likely get a bullet in the head than a payoff. Oh, that’s right, he did, didn’t he?”

“There’s your motive. You should be looking at Pantero.”

“We’ve looked at him up, down, and sideways. Among those who get away with murder, the wiseguys are usually the winners. We’re lucky we found a body.”

“Pantero must know Randy has a lot of cash stashed somewhere.”

“Maybe Pantero doesn’t know about Randy’s co-op,” Dino said. “He managed to hide that possession from pretty much everybody, including his wife.”

“Still, Randy was getting deliveries of cash there.”

“That must be from the smuggling,” Dino said. “Maybe he has another partner in that racket, instead of Pantero.”

“Anything’s possible,” Stone said.

They made it to Louie’s Backyard before the sun set, and the light was beautiful, even if the sun was setting in the wrong direction. The breeze was nice, too, and that kept it from being too hot.

They ordered drinks and had a look at the menu, then ordered food.

“You feeling better?” Stone asked Max.

“Don’t I look better?”

Stone laughed. “Yes, you do. When are you going to honor us again with your presence in New York?”

“Well, with the smuggling case wrapped, I’m back on the stolen bicycle detail. Have you got an extra seat on your airplane?”

Stone smiled. “I think we can squeeze you in.”

“Good,” she said, “because I’ve already asked for a week’s vacation.” Her cell went off, and she fished it out of her small purse. “Excuse me,” she said, “I want to take this.” She got up, walked a few yards away, and sat on a chair near the deck railing.

“Well, that’s working out well for you, isn’t it?” Dino said, chuckling. “Robbie cast aside, and Max is coming to town.”

“I’m a lucky guy,” Stone said.

“You might remember that Robbie may have murdered the last man who disappointed her.”

“I’d rather not think of that,” Stone said.

“Max will help keep your mind clear, I expect.”

Max came back and sat down. “That was our FBI friend in Naples,” she said. “His team has been grilling the shrimper’s crew since they docked.”

“Have they spilled any New York names?”

“McWilliam, the shrimper’s owner, mentioned Hedger but nobody else.”

“Well, shit,” Dino muttered.

“I almost forgot. Dixie came up with something this afternoon.”

“What something?”

“He said that McWilliam was aboard the shrimper on one of his deliveries, and that he heard the man mention a couple of names. Hedger was one of them.”

“Swell,” Dino said. “Everybody wants to talk about the dead guy.”

“He heard another name, too, and now I’ve forgotten it, just like Dixie did.”

“Concentrate,” Dino said.

“It was an artist’s name.”

“Picasso? Van Gogh?” Stone asked.

“I don’t think they were smugglers,” Max said.

“Then who?”

“Who does those lovely mobiles?”

Stone and Dino looked at each other and spoke simultaneously. “Calder!” they said.

As they were landing at Teterboro, Dino took a phone call on his cell and chatted for a couple of minutes, then he joined Stone on the way to the car. “One of my guys called: he says Roberta Calder gave her employees a cash bonus today.”

“So?”

“I think the operative word is cash ,” Dino said. “In other words, she didn’t write them checks. In fact, she told them it was tax-free.”

“So Robbie is dipping into Randy’s cash reserve?”

“Sounds that way.”

“I’ll nip that in the bud,” Stone said. Once in the car, he called Herbie Fisher.

“Herb Fisher.”

“Hi, it’s Stone.”

“Are you still in Key West?”

“No, we just landed at Teterboro, and we’re on our way into the city. Dino just got some news that should interest you.”