Микки Спиллейн - The Delta Factor

“She put up a fight,” I said.

“Si. She was much bruised.”

I knelt down and raked pieces of the dishes into a pile and sorted them out. In three minutes I had them assembled enough to see what had been broken. One dinner plate, one cup, one saucer.

As Angelo watched the process curiously, I said, “She wasn’t entertaining. Whoever did it came in the way we did and killed her as she was getting something to eat.”

“I don’t understand, señor.”

“Never mind,” I told him. “Come on.”

He followed me out the back way to the old garage, watched while I jiggled open the padlock and came in through the door behind me. I let the light pick out familiar items, searching for any sign of disturbance, then ran it over the beam that concealed the radio transmitter.

Angelo said, “Señor…”

“No political angle, Angelo. She was killed because of me. Now listen carefully. If Sabin digs in hard enough he’ll come up with either the right answer or some excuse to tear this place apart. There’s a radio setup hidden back here your people can use. When I’m done with it, have it dismantled and taken to some safe place. Can you arrange it?”

“Si, with no trouble, señor.”

“Good. Get somebody on it right away.” I let him hold the light while I checked him out on the operation, then cut in the power, let the set warm up and dialed Art’s frequency, hoping somebody was monitoring the channel. I gave the call signal five times before Art himself answered, made sure of my identity, then told me to go ahead.

I said, “Rosa’s been killed, Art. Nothing on it yet and I haven’t time to explain the details. Did she reach you?”

“Roger, Morgan. The stuff you requested is on the way. I blew a cylinder on the plane so it went out on the only boat available and you were damn lucky. Nothing’s moving around here with the hurricane on the way. It will be landed at José’s place and he’ll get it up to you.”

“Good…” I started to say.

“Hold it. You’re getting some additional cargo besides. Your friend Joey Jolley made it down here and he’s one hell of a scared boy. He wouldn’t talk to me at all and insisted on seeing you so he hopped aboard the same boat too. The condition he’s in I’d keep him under cover if I were you. I got the feeling he thought he was followed, and the guy who’s taking the boat over told me at the last minute that somebody broke into his cabin. He had his course marked out on the chart in the pilothouse and I never gave that a thought because he said some booze was missing and it wasn’t the first time it had happened.”

“Joey mention any names?”

“Not to me he didn’t.”

“You sure no other boats are leaving?”

“Morg, after that last blow that ripped this place apart you couldn’t get anything for hire for a million bucks. The guy coming in to you did it as a personal favor. I saved his neck for him twice. Your luck is still running if the storm doesn’t hit.”

“You kidding? How the hell are we supposed to get out of here? Can’t you get that plane repaired?”

“Not a chance. No parts are available locally and it will be a week before they’re delivered. All I can tell you is that you might be able to take the boat back if you can move that fast. If you don’t get caught in the middle of the blow you might be able to outrun or outride it. It’s a pretty seaworthy job with twin diesels and the captain knows his stuff.”

“Will he stick around?” I asked him.

“I guarantee he’ll wait until the last minute, but when he’s ready to go he’ll cut out and you’ll be on your own. These guys aren’t under orders these days, buddy, and he’s got a wife and six kids to think of.”

“Okay, Art, keep this channel open in case I need another contact.”

“Will do. How’s the project coming?”

“Change of plans. There isn’t time for fancy footwork. It’ll have to be a straight bust out.”

“Think you can handle it alone?”

“Hell, man, who has a choice?”

I heard his low laugh before he signed off and I flipped the power switch. When I had the antenna down and the set back under wraps I made sure Angelo was familiar with its operation, then retraced my steps outside.

For a minute I stood in the darkness smelling the night, feeling the warm, humid air touch my skin. But the warm spot between my shoulders wasn’t there anymore and I knew that whoever had been tracking behind me was waiting someplace else.

At five minutes past seven we parked the truck where we had found it and went back in the way we had come out. On my floor the guard was having a gentle sleep in a sitting position on a pile of packaged laundry, and Angelo waved me on so he could awaken him.

When I opened the door I knew she had come back. The suite was steamy from the open bathroom door and the scent of perfume seemed to dangle in the air. She came out of the bedroom in a fresh dark-blue silk suit, her hair glistening blackly in soft waves down around her shoulders. I went to the radio and turned it up nearly full volume in case there were listening ears.

All I could say was, “Where the hell have you been?”

Only for a second was there a slight trace of anger, then the cold professional attitude returned and she stalked past me to the sofa and sat down. “My contact called me.”

“Damn it! How many times…”

She shut me up with a single look. “It was an emergency. Ortega got his man into Miami to hit the safe-deposit box we had set up. Our people closed in and got him. Unfortunately, there was an error in judgment. They didn’t handcuff him and on the way out he made a break for it and got away. They think they have him holed up in a general area, but there may be the possibility that he can make contact with Ortega if they don’t get to him in time.”

I got it out of my system with a few choice words, then took a deep breath to cool off. “They had to be cute about it. Damn it, they had to be cute.”

“What’s done is done.”

“Don’t be so smug, sugar. It’s your neck too.”

“I knew the risk I was taking.”

“So did I. That’s why I feel like such a sap.” I stopped and looked at her. “Where did you meet this contact?” I kept my voice at whisper level.

“Here in the hotel. He took a lower-level room like a lot of the other local businessmen are doing who have places along the beach. And don’t worry about the guard. He never saw me go either way.”

“How’s this guy keep in touch with the mainland?”

“He has a radio unit built into a recorder he uses for business.”

“Supposing the guy manages to reach Ortega?”

“Then we’ll know about it too. The agency requested cooperation from the Naval Station at Key West to cover all frequencies in case of a transmission and relay the information to us. Since Ortega probably didn’t expect this development they wouldn’t have prepared a code, but in case they did the Navy will have their cryptographers ready.”

“Okay. We’ll just have to go along with it. Who is he and what room is he in?”

She hesitated a moment, then said, “Luis Rondo. Room 203. He’s in the import-export business and has been a resident here eight years. Except for an initial police scrutiny by the police he has been accepted and runs a legitimate business at a profit. He has never been suspected of being planted here by our government. Two years ago he married a native who died a year later of cancer.”

“Good enough.”

“Now, what are your plans?” she asked me.

“First I want to clear Lisa Gordot out of here. That’ll hit Sabin where it hurts and he’ll split up his forces to try to scratch her out. The more we thin out that bunch the easier it’ll be to operate.”