W Griffin - Hunters

The Lear wasn't in the hangar. There were four Beech craft turboprops and one jet, a Gulfstream III.

"What are we looking at?" Castillo asked.

Fernando pointed to the Gulfstream.

"Jesus, don't tell me you bought that!"

"I didn't. I think maybe you should," Fernando said.

A smiling man wearing a leather aviator's jacket and aviator's sunglasses walked quickly up to them before Castillo had a chance to respond.

"How are you, Mr. Lopez?" he asked.

"Do you know my cousin, Charley Castillo?"

"I have not had that privilege," the man said. "Brewster Walsh, Mr. Castillo."

He enthusiastically pumped Castillo's hand.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Mr. Walsh inquired, then added, "And a steal at seven million nine ninety-nine."

"In other words, eight million, right?" Castillo asked, innocently.

"Can we have a look inside?" Fernando asked.

"It would be my pleasure," Mr. Walsh said.

Castillo, who was tired and wanted to get out to Hacienda San Jorge, was just about to politely decline the offer when he remembered what Fernando had said: "I didn't. I think maybe you should."

He meant that. He thinks I should buy this with Lorimer's money.

He wouldn't have said that unless he meant it. Jesus!

Castillo allowed himself to be waved up the stair door. He looked into the cockpit.

"Are you a pilot yourself, Mr. Castillo?" Mr. Walsh inquired, and, when Castillo nodded, went on, "Well, then you'll really appreciate that panel."

Castillo examined the flight instruments carefully. It was a nice panel, mostly Honeywell and Collins. It wasn't on a par with the panel in the Lear, but then the Lear was nearly brand-new and this wasn't.

"How old is this?" Castillo asked.

"I'm sure you're aware that it isn't how old an airplane is but rather how hard it's been ridden."

"Which makes it how old?"

"Total time, just over eight thousand hours," Mr. Walsh replied. "Just over forty-five hundred landings, which means the average flight was less than two hours. And-and-the engines were replaced at eight thousand hours and are practically brand-new."

"Which makes it how old by the calendar?" Castillo pursued.

"Twenty-three years," Mr. Walsh replied, some what reluctantly. "Hard to believe looking at it, isn't it?"

Yeah, it is. Jesus, it doesn't look that old. It looks practically brand-new.

"And there was a complete refurbishment of the interior just six months ago," Mr. Walsh added.

"Does 'refurbished' mean cleaned and shined?"

"Everything that showed the slightest signs of wear was replaced," Mr. Walsh said.

Castillo looked down the luxuriously fitted-out passenger compartment. When he breathed in, he smiled at the rich smell of fine glove leather.

"It looks new," he admitted.

"It has a maximum range of thirty-seven hundred nautical miles," Mr. Walsh offered, "at four hundred fifty knots."

"That would get you across the Atlantic in a hurry, wouldn't it?" Fernando asked, over Mr. Walsh's shoulder. "I mean, if a person had some reason to go to Europe. Me, if I had my way, I'd never leave Texas, much less the good ol' USA."

"Well, if you wanted to go to Europe," Mr. Walsh said, "this little beauty would take you and twelve of your friends-and their golf clubs and their overnight bags."

"In case you wanted to play a quick round at St. Andrews, for example, Carlos," Fernando said, and then looked at Mr. Walsh. "Ol' Carlos is quite a golfer."

"Me, too," Mr. Walsh said. "I just love the game."

"Anytime anyone's looking for ol' Carlos, I just tell them to check out the nearest golf club," Fernando said.

"What business are you in, Mr. Castillo? If you don't mind my asking?"

"Investments," Castillo said.

"Buy low and sell high, right, Carlos?" Fernando asked.

"I try."

"Word of a steal like this gets around quickly," Mr. Walsh said. "Frankly, I've got several people really interested."

"Well, Mr. Walsh, if you can get somebody to give you eight million for this old airplane I suggest you take the offer. On the other hand, if you'd be willing to shave half a million off your asking price I might be interested. With several other caveats."

"For example, Mr. Castillo?"

"My golfing buddy, Jake Torine, is a much better pilot than I am. I'd have to have him check it out. He lives in Charleston."

"We'd be happy to have your friend fly here at our expense and give him a test hop. He's checked out in the Gulfstream, I presume?"

"Yes, he is."

"But so far as lowering the price is concerned…"

"What I meant was, you would take the airplane-and Fernando-to Charleston and let my friend fly it there," Castillo said. "But if you can't lower the price, I guess that doesn't matter."

"Perhaps-one never knows what will happen, does one?-something could be worked out. If you'd be willing to pay the standard hourly charter rate for the G-III, for example, for the hours it took to fly to Charleston…"

"Which is how much?"

"Ballpark figure, about three thousand an hour."

"Since we're playing what-if," Castillo said, "what if you flew this airplane to Charleston, gave my friend a test hop, all at three thousand an hour, and what if he said the old bird was worth the money, and what if I said, 'Okay, I'll buy it, ' you'd take how many hours at three thousand per it came to off your price of seven million five, right?"

"Mr. Castillo, I'm not at all sure I can shave the price even a little, much less half a million dollars."

"I understand," Castillo said. "You go ahead and sell to whoever is willing to pay that much money for a twenty-four-year-old airplane. Thanks for letting me have a look."

"It's only twenty-three years old, Mr. Castillo."

"Okay. Twenty-three-year-old airplane."

"At the risk of repeating myself," Mr. Walsh said, "one never knows what's going to happen. How would I get in touch with you, Mr. Castillo, if-"

"Fernando usually knows where I'm swatting the ol' ball around at any given time, so just call him. You have his number, right?" When they were on the highway to Uvalde, Fernando said, "I wonder if he'll call today or wait until tomorrow."

"I hope he waits longer than that," Castillo said. "That looks like such a good deal, I can hear Grandpa say, 'Anytime you're offered a really good deal you'd be a fool to turn down, take a cold shower every day for a week and then have another look, a very close look.'"

Fernando chuckled.

"I have something serious to say, Gringo."

"Uh-oh."

"I really should not be playing James Bond with you as much as I have been."

"And is the rest of the sentence 'and I won't in the future'?"

"Hey, Gringo. You need me, I'm there. You know that. But I have Maria and the kids and Abuela to think of."

"Touche."

"All I'm saying is you now have people working for you. Please don't call me unless you really need me."

"Done."

"And you need an airplane. Maybe not that G-III, but an airplane. A bigger one than the Lear. And not just because Maria and Abuela are not only going to smell a rat if you keep using the Lear but are going to start nosing around. Neither of us wants that."

"You're right. So to hell with Grandpa's advice. Let's hope Smiley calls you tonight instead of tomorrow."

"I don't like the way you're agreeing with me so easily."

"What should I do, agree with you hardly? You're right, Fernando, it's as simple as that. I wasn't thinking."

"You're making me feel like a shit, you know that?"

"What I was just thinking was how lucky I am to have you as my brother."

"I'm not your brother, Cuz."

"If you won't tell, I won't."

"What I want from you, Gringo, is your word that when you need me you'll call me."

"Done." "No rest for the weary," Dick Miller now said over the phone. "You never heard that?"