Stuart Woods - Dirty Work

"See," Stone said, "it flies."

They crossed the coastline and entered clouds. The airplane began to shake. The pilot came on the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "this is the captain speaking. We apologize for the turbulence, but I'm afraid we'll be dodging thunderstorms along our route today, so please keep your seat belts fastened."

Dino let go of an armrest long enough to yank his seat belt tight enough to cut off circulation to his legs.

"This is going to be great," Stone said, as the airplane leveled off.

Dino looked out the window. "We're flying awful low."

"It's a short flight, Dino. There's no point in climbing higher; we'll be there in twenty minutes."

The airplane suddenly dropped a couple of hundred feet.

"Jeeesus!" Dino said through clenched teeth.

"Nothing to worry about," Stone said, sounding unconvinced. He was feeling a little queasy himself.

The airplane banked sharply to the right, kept that course for ten minutes, then banked sharply to the left. Items were falling out of the overhead racks.

Then, unexpectedly, they were on the ground, just as a rain squall struck the airplane. It did some weaving as it braked, but then they were at the terminal.

"I want a drink," Dino said.

"When we get to the hotel," Stone replied.

The rain continued as they got into a taxi, and what little they could see of the town of Charlotte Amalie through the rain-streaked windows seemed drab. The taxi climbed steeply for a few minutes, then deposited them on the doorstep of a small hotel. Shortly, they were in their adjoining rooms.

"You want a drink now?" Stone called.

"I want a blood transfusion," Dino called back. "Leave me alone."

"Our dinner table is in twenty minutes," Stone shouted. "Get changed."

Twenty minutes later, they walked out onto a broad terrace overlooking the twinkling lights of the town. The rain had passed, and the night was filled with stars. A pair of cruise ships anchored in the big harbor far below were bathed in their own lights, while the anchor lights of sailing vessels bobbed around them. They found a couple of comfortable chairs, accepted menus from the waiter, and Stone ordered two pina coladas.

"I want a double Scotch," Dino complained.

"Shut up, you're in the tropics," Stone explained.

The drinks were icy cold and delicious. Stone flipped open his cell phone to see if he could get a signal. He did, and he dialed Bob Cantor's number and got the out-of-range recording. "Either Bob's on a boat somewhere or he's turned his phone off," Stone said.

Dino looked out at the view. "Can you blame him? I'd do the same in this place."

They listened to the piano player as the bar filled with arriving customers.

"Did you call the DA's office this morning, about getting Herbie's charges dropped?" Stone asked.

"Who had time?" Dino replied. "You yanked me out of my office before I had time to do anything."

"Call him in the morning," Stone said. "It'll be easier to convince Herbie to go back to New York if the manslaughter charge has disappeared."

"Yeah, okay," Dino said. "Now can I drink this ridiculous drink and enjoy the view?"

"Be my guest."

"You'd better believe it."

The waiter came and took their orders. "It'll be twenty minutes or so," he said. "Would you like another pina colada?"

"You betcha," Dino replied.

"What, no Scotch?" Stone asked.

"We're in the tropics, dummy."

Stone laughed. "I'm sorry we couldn't bring Mary Ann along."

Dino looked at him as if he were mad. "You bachelors," he said, "don't understand anything. The duty-free shopping alone would break you."

"Break me?"

"We're on your nickel, remember?"

"My nickel doesn't extend to duty-free shopping. It won't support a camera or a Rolex, you remember that. Besides, you're not going to have time to shop. We have to find Herbie."

"And how do you figure to go about doing that?" Dino asked.

"If Bob Cantor won't answer his phone, then I don't have a clue," Stone said.

Then a flashbulb went off in their faces.

"Good evening, gentlemen," somebody with a New York accent said. "Here's my card. Can I print that great shot for you? Only twenty bucks."

As his eyes readjusted to the available light, Stone looked up into the smiling face of Herbie Fisher.

Herbie's smile collapsed. "I, ah…" He couldn't seem to get it out.

Stone was too stunned to speak for a moment. Finally, he said, "Hi, Herbie."

Herbie turned and sprinted across the terrace like a terrified rabbit, then out through a door.

"Come on!" Stone said. He and Dino struggled out of the deep soft chairs, around the table, and ran after Herbie. Stone got a glimpse of him fleeing the parking lot, and he turned on the speed, losing a loafer in the process. "Get him!" he yelled at Dino, then went back for his shoe. By the time he caught up, Dino was standing in the street, looking around.

"Which way did he go?" Dino asked.

"I don't know. I had to stop for my shoe."

"You're a big fucking help, Stone."

From behind a little stand of trees beside the street, they heard a car start, then the sound of tires spinning on gravel. Stone ran around the trees in time to see a yellow jeep disappear around a curve. "Well," Stone said, "at least we know what he's driving."

"A jeep?" Dino said, laughing. "Haven't you noticed that half the tourists on this island are driving rented jeeps?"

"It's a yellow jeep," Stone pointed out. "They're not all yellow."

"I'm hungry," Dino said.

They walked back into the hotel and out onto the terrace, where two new pina coladas were melting.

"Your table is ready, gentlemen," the waiter said. "Right this way."

They settled into a banquette near the door, where they could still see some of the view, and accepted a glass of wine.

"How the hell are we going to find him?" Dino asked, as he dug into his first course.

"He'll call his uncle Bob as soon as he can, but he's having the same problem contacting him that I am. As soon as Bob gets within range, I can explain things to him, and he'll explain them to Herbie."

"And how long do you figure that will take?" Dino asked.

"Well, Bob's been down here for at least four days. Maybe he's ready to go home."

"What if he's on a three-week vacation?"

"Don't say that."

"When does Herbie have to appear in court?"

"The day after tomorrow."

"Oh, swell."

"I called Tony Levy and told him to get a postponement, no matter what."

"Who's the judge?"

"Kaplan."

"You're fucked," Dino said, chuckling. "You're out of a quarter of a mil, and by the time you get home, Irving Newman is going to own your house."

"Dino, you're ruining my appetite."

"Have you called Irving?"

"No. I'm hoping he hasn't heard that Herbie jumped. How could he know?"

"Well, when Herbie doesn't show the day after tomorrow, and Tony Levy is standing in front of Kaplan with his dick in his hand, Irving is going to suspect something. He's got a guy in every courtroom, you know."

"I know. Can we just drop it?"

"And Irving is not the kind of guy to just trust you for a quarter of a mil."

"It's not a quarter of a million, it's two twenty-five."

"Oh, that'll make all the difference," Dino said.

"Really, Dino, you're ruining my dinner."

"Of course, you've got some bucks in the bank. You could write Irving a check."

"I'd have to sell stock, and my portfolio is way down. I have hopes of it bouncing back, but it would cost me dearly to write that check right now."

"Didn't you have to make a margin call last week?"

"Dino, if you keep talking about this I'm going to go back to the room, find your gun, and shoot you."