Филип Керр - A Five Year Plan

‘Then why are you asking me?’

‘You’re right. It doesn’t matter. Now reach around the waste pipe and manacle the other wrist.’

When she had done it, he dangled the keys and said, ‘I’ll put these in my safe. I assume you know where that is. My guess is you already tried to open it when you searched my room. The key to the radio room’s there as well. It’s a four-digit combination. The first number’s keyed in. It takes about two hours to work your way through the 999 remaining possibilities. The ship’s crew are all locked up in the workshop, but it shouldn’t take them more than a few hours to break out. I’ve told them you’re here, so you shouldn’t have long to wait. Of course, we’ll be gone by then.’

He took out a roll of surgical tape. Just in case she started hollering and putting the crews on the Russkie boats on alert.

‘I’m sorry about this,’ he said. ‘Really I am. You have the most attractive mouth—’

‘Save it for the judge, asshole.’

‘Anything I can get you first? A glass of water, perhaps?’

‘How about a glass of water and a goodbye kiss?’

‘Easy.’ Still apologizing, Dave fetched her some water from the faucet and helped her to drink. She swallowed most of it but as he moved closer to kiss her, she squirted a jet of water right back in his face.

Laughing she said, ‘There you go. There’s your kiss. A big wet one you’ll always remember me by.’

Dave picked up a towel and wiped his face. Trying to smile he said, ‘In the next life you’d better come back as a fountain.’

‘You should thank me. You may never feel this clean again.’

When he had finished taping her mouth he asked her if she could breathe all right. She nodded sullenly.

‘Sure you won’t change your mind? Come with me? We could be good together.’

She shook her head.

‘OK, if you should ever change your mind...’

Kate looked the other way.

‘Then keep an eye on the Tuesday editions of the Miami Herald. Classified section. Lost and Found. Look out for, "Lost at Sea. Siberian Husky. Answers to the name of Rodya." It’ll say No Reward, just to stop any cowboys from telephoning. There’ll be an answering service. You can leave a message. If you want.’ Dave paused and let out a long sigh. ‘I hope you do.’

Kate kept her head averted. A second or two later she heard the door close behind him.

‘What took you?’ growled Al. ‘Or did you feel impelled to fuck that Fed bitch again? For old times’ sake.’

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Dave told him. ‘The way it turned out was something rather more poetic than just a straight fuck.’

Al laughed. ‘Nothing’s more poetic than a straight fuck, shit for brains. Except maybe one that deviates up her ass or something. All those books in prison must have turned your dick to Jell-O.’ Al wiped his sweating forehead and bare arms with a bar towel he had taken from the last boat he’d been on. ‘You were right about one thing though.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘This FBI shit works better than a gun. You just tell people what to do, snap your fingers like Mary fuckin’ Poppins, and they do it. It’s better than a gun. And no questions asked.’

Dave said, ‘It’s like I was telling you. Alias Smith and Jones. There’s no need to shoot anyone if you’re wearing that badge on your chest.’

‘Tell that to David Koresh. One thing though. You do uncover a lot of bad shit when you just walk in on people uninvited. That bitch on the Jade for instance. Rachel Dana?’

‘What about her?’

‘Bitch was in bed with one of the girls in her crew. Pair of them as naked as the day they hatched. I didn’t know whether to flash my dick or my badge. Lesbians, the pair of them. I swear they were both attached to the same fuckin’ dildo. Like they was on a life-support system.’

They were on the Duke’s port stern stack, looking back up toward the bow of the ship. Al threw the towel into the pitching sea with disgust and lit a cigar.

‘I’d forgotten about your homophobia,’ said Dave. He shrugged, ‘Hey, whatever floats your boat.’

‘I’m not homophobic,’ Al insisted. ‘But I just can’t figure that dildo shit. I mean if you’re a dyke, it means pussy’s your thing. If you want eight inches of length inside you, you might as well choose the real thing, right? ’Sted of some plastic dick looks like it belongs in a toy store. I mean, how do you figure it?’

‘Doctor Ruth, I’m not,’ said Dave. ‘What did they say, after you interrupted them?’

‘They were kind of pissed at me. But I told them I didn’t care what they got up to. Or what got up them. They could fuck a cat with a broken back for all I cared just as long as they stayed on their boat. Less they wanted to get their heads blown off.’

‘That was cute,’ said Dave. ‘OK, how many boats have we got left to visit?’

‘Apart from our three Russians? Just the one.’ Al pointed at the Britannia. ‘ That one. The getaway from it all boat.’

‘Good work. You’ve been busy.’

‘Like I said. This FBI thing works like beetlejuice.’

‘Take a breather. I’ll handle the Britannia.’

‘Be my guest. Hey did you know Calgary Stanford is on this ship? The movie actor? He was hitting a pipe when I caught up with him. Lousy doper.’

‘Takes all sorts to make a world, Al. Least that’s what it says in the Bible, doesn’t it?’ Dave started to walk down the stairs toward the stern of the Britannia.

‘How the fuck should I know?’

‘Well, you’re the Catholic, aren’t you?’

‘Ain’t you heard? Catholic Church don’t like people reading the Bible. They used to grease you for it.’

In the moonlight the sea looked like something animate, like the scaly skin of some enormous reptile. Perhaps even the one he was feeling like. He thought he’d given Kate a choice — to come with him or to stay on the boat. But really he’d given her no choice at all. And she wouldn’t have been the girl he loved if she’d agreed to come with him. He knew that and it didn’t make him feel any better about himself.

Dave stepped onto the deck of the Britannia still unaware of the special cargo that was concealed inside the yacht’s enlarged fuel tanks. He was set to impress those on board with his impeccable credentials. With all that he and Al still had left to do, he’d forgotten that Kate Furey and her Fed friends had been keeping someone else under surveillance. There was no way he could know that the Britannia’s crew might feel a little less sanguine than most about being boarded by the FBI. His heart was still in bed with Kate. His mind was already boarding the first Russian boat where he expected to encounter the real resistance. Not to mention the money.

The Britannia looked quiet enough, although the owner’s taste left something to be desired. Flashing his Maglite around the lounge, Dave liked the furniture well enough, but the art on the oak-panelled walls was the worst kind of kitsch — the kind of bland stuff you bought with both eyes on the room’s color scheme. He went downstairs. When he had real money he was going to buy some real art. Paintings. Not interior decoration.

Below deck, in the three en-suite staterooms, all was quiet. Dave opened the first door to find a twin-bedded cabin. There were clothes all over the place but the beds were empty. He opened the second door to find a sophisticated art deco room more to his taste, and a double bed with a naked man and woman staring at him blearily through the hard flashlight he’d aimed at them. There was no window or porthole in the cabin, so Dave closed the door quietly behind him and turned on the light.