Cuban Sun (6 page)

“Miami? Impossible!” said Mr. Clarke.

“Is it? I have it on reliable information that it has been in Miami since 1996.” Sofia conjured her best dreamy voice. “Imagine! To drive that beautiful car just as Caracciola himself did. The feel of a one of a kind machine in your hands, knowing how many records it set.” Sofia smiled to herself; both men looked as though they were indeed imagining themselves in driving goggles and scarf.

Mr. Clarke spoke first. “True, how could someone have that type of car and not drive it?”

Moreno scoffed. “You’ve been in your ivory tower in Coral Gables too long my friend. Anyone foolish enough to actually drive the car would be carjacked within three seconds of getting it on the street. The car probably doesn’t run anyway. It’s likely only a showpiece.”

Sofia nodded but struggled to focus on the rest of the conversation. Something had just clicked. The car may not run, nor would that necessarily be the intent but the owner would still have to call in a mechanic for insurance purposes. She remembered that her grandfather always had a private mechanic do a workup for his “Italian beauties” as he referred to his collection of antique Alfa Romeos. Sofia sat through the rest of the dinner finding it difficult to make pleasantries. She had enjoyed the food and even the conversation but now she was anxious to be done so she could get the next piece of information. When the last scrap of sweet caramel flan had been cleared from their plates, Sofia bid her dinner partners good evening and quickly exited onto the large terrace that was screened from the rest of the interior courtyard. She pulled her cell phone from the Prada clutch and quickly dialed hoping this man was still awake.

A familiar voice answered. “Sofia?”

“Rick, hi, I’m sorry to call so late.”

“It
is
you. I saw your number come up and couldn’t believe it. How is law school treating you?”

“It’s going well, thanks Rick. I hope you’re well too?” Sofia was impatient to get to the point of her call but years of training in politeness won out.

“Yes, the business is going well. I wish you would reconsider my offer to have you come on board as one of my lead investigators, or is that why you called?” His tone sounded hopeful and Sofia smiled. After college, Rick McCrory knew that Sofia was anxious to get out from under her father’s thumb and generously offered Sofia a position as one of the lead investigators in his insurance firm. In the end, she opted for a four year break as a counselor in Outward Bound before going to law school, but she had been tempted by the offer. The job was not that of a normal insurance adjuster. This insurance firm insured not homes or businesses but extremely high end cars, antique furniture, art and even wine collections. In fact, it was the same company that conspired with her father’s associate in the scandal regarding a historical military collection. This occurred before Rick had taken over of course. Yes, she had been tempted by his offer, a high salary, research; the ability to work around significant pieces was all very appealing.

She infused a smile in her response. “I’m afraid not Rick, I’m where I’m supposed to be. But, I’m hoping you can point me in the right direction with a case I’m working on.”

“I’ll do my best, go ahead.”

“Well, I’m looking for a private mechanic in the Miami area. One who is very discreet and specializes in antique Mercedes.”

“Is this a legal thing? You’re not looking to sell him to the D.A. are you? If so, I can’t help you. People like that are far too valuable to my work.”

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to do something like that. This is for a client.” She had not technically lied. Indeed, Joe and Helena were her clients in the loosest sense of the word and she was not looking to get the mechanic arrested. She sensed his hesitation and added, “I know Grandfather and Father trusted your opinion for this kind of thing and I thought if anyone could help it would be you.” Sofia knew that a little flattery could go a long way.

He sighed and gave a small laugh. “Sofia, you could always talk me into anything, even at school. Ok, there’s a guy in Little Haiti named Seydou who does work for me. He is discreet in the extreme. He’s the best there is if you’re getting something appraised or worked on, but I doubt you’ll get any client information out of him even if you mention my name.”

“Is Seydou a last name?”

“No idea and I’m smart enough not to ask.”

“Thanks Rick, that’s exactly what I needed.”

“No problem. And Sofia, if you ever need a job…”

“You’ll be the first person I call. Thanks again.”

Sofia wrote down the address Rick gave her and headed to find Quint. He was with Helena and Joe in the entry hall saying their goodbyes.

Once out of the house Quint turned an excited look on Sophia. “You got it didn’t you?”

Sofia was excited too, but didn’t want to get their hopes up too high. After all, she still had to find this Seydou and somehow convince him to tell her where the car was. If he was even the one who had worked on it.

“Not exactly. I got some information on the car though. I’m going to Little Haiti and check it out.”

“The hell you are!” Joe and Quint said in unison. Both looked horrified at the prospect.

Joe continued, “It’s midnight. There’s no way we’re letting you go out there.”

“I have to”, Sofia argued. She summarized her conversation with Rick but didn’t mention his name or the business. She knew a thing or two about discretion herself.

“Well you’re not going alone.” Quint interjected. “I’m going with you.”

Sofia was touched at his concern but exasperated by his protectiveness.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ve been to plenty of places on my own. I backpacked through three countries by myself and was just fine.”

Quint shook his head. “Not wearing that outfit you didn’t. That’s not a great part of town for you to be looking like that.”

Helena agreed, “The Prada bag alone paints a target on you. Quint will go with you.”

Quint nodded once. Obviously, this discussion was over. Sofia fumed as she got in Quint’s leased BMW and gave it one last try. “If a gang jumps us in the parking lot what good will you be anyway?”

Joe said, “Good point.” He tossed a Kel Tec handgun to Quint who checked it and stowed it in a hidden holster before climbing in the car himself. Sofia was shocked but made an effort not to show it. She’d seen enough security details to observe that Quint knew how to handle a firearm and she wondered how a Law professor came to get that kind of knowledge. As Sofia looked away, Helena reached her hand in the passenger window and dropped something in Sofia’s hand. The pair of four carat pink diamond studs glinted in the light from the house. These were the earrings that Helena had been wearing at dinner. Helena correctly interpreted Sofia’s puzzled look.

“They have built in GPS. Joe and I can track you two. Text us the address and if you deviate from your course, we will know something has happened.”

Sofia turned to look up at Helena who stood at the car’s side. “You have GPS in your earrings?”

Helena laughed. As Quint put the car in first she said, “You don’t think Harry Winston makes all their money on mundane retail sales do you?” As they drove Sofia wondered how two lawyers over fifty would be helpful in a gang situation and why they had GPS devices hidden in jewelry. Nonetheless, she followed Helena’s directions removing her own earrings and replacing them with the pink diamonds.

Arriving at the address Rick gave her, she was secretly glad Quint insisted on accompanying her. Not that she was going to tell him that. They were now in a fairly seedy part of town, so much so that Sofia did not want to get out of the car in her bright persimmon dress. She felt it would be like waving a flag in front of a bull. She grabbed Quint’s black trench from the back seat and shook out her hair to cover the earrings. She turned to Quint who was scowling at the dilapidated garage.

She said, “If I’m lucky, maybe they’ll just think I’m a call girl.”

He looked doubtful “In a BMW?”

She tried to maintain lightness in her tone. “Hey, don’t I look high priced?”

Quint gave Sofia a grudging smile and moved to get out of the car. She stopped him with a hand on his arm. The familiar electric feeling surged through her again.

“No, stay here. Guys in this line of work are very suspicious and scare easily. I’m much less intimidating than you.”

“How do you even know he’s there? This place looks locked up tight. No way anyone is still working in there.”

“Don’t be so sure. My grandfather’s guy lived over his garage so he could receive calls at all hours from overseas and do internet consults. And, don’t let the building fool you. It’s just to keep cops and criminals away. Hiding in plain sight.”

Quint looked impressed but dubious. “Alright. I’ll be right here with one hand on the door and the other on the Kel Tec.”

Sofia approached the door and pressed the buzzer. A screen lit up illuminating the face of a man in his late thirties wearing coveralls. “Yeah?” Over his Latin-accented English she heard machinery and tools being industriously applied inside.

I’m
d
efinitely in the right place
, she thought.

“I’m looking for Seydou. I need him to do some consulting work. I brought photos.”

“He don’t do that kind of work.”

“Then I need him to come have a look at the piece then.”

“He don’t do house calls neither. If you want work done, bring it here.”

Well,
thought Sofia,
the front is complete
. There was no way would any collector bring a piece down here. He was vetting her. She played a hunch, a gamble, but it was all she had.

“I know he went out for the Caracciola. I’m sure he’ll be intrigued by what I have as well. May I speak with him?” Sofia had said the magic words. As soon as “Caracciola” was out of her mouth, the man’s visage instantly transformed from bored irritation to frank appraisal. Sofia tossed her hair just enough to ensure he caught a glimpse of the pink diamond studs. He did.

“Well, miss, he ain’t here just now, but he usually hangs out at the Marvilla on Friday nights, you could catch him down there.

The Marvilla Club was a hideout frequented by A list movie stars and industrialists alike. Seydou must be more refined than this guy. Her hopes lifted minutely. She thanked the man and quickly walked back to the car.

As soon as she relayed the details to Quint he whipped out his cell and dialed Joe and Helena. “We need an entry to the Marvilla club.” Quint listened and glanced at Sofia. “Are
you
going to tell her that?” He kept listening to Joe but eyes were on Sofia. He glanced away. “Ok, Joe.” Without looking at Sofia he clicked ‘end’ on the phone and put it back on the dash.

“What?” Sofia asked.

“Joe’s going to get us in.”

“Funny enough, I gathered that on my own.
How
will he get us in?”

Quint shifted in the driver’s seat. “He’s going to call and tell them you’re coming.”

“That’s it? Who at the club cares if
I’m
going to be there
?
”

Quint looked at her from the corner of his eye then back to the road. “He’s going to call and tell them Sofia Koury, daughter of Rayan Koury will be arriving shortly.”

“What?!”

“That reaction is why I wanted Joe to tell you.”

Sofia was furious. Joe was using her. Not even for herself, but for her connections, her name. “And what did he say?”

“Um, he said, and I’m quoting here ‘tell her to put on her big girl panties and get over it.” He said it in a rush as if saying the words quickly would stall the explosion. It didn’t.

“Who the hell does he think he is? He can’t just go around and use my name or my father’s without asking. What about privacy?”

“Can I say something without you going completely crazy?”

She was taken aback. “Maybe.”

“It does make a certain kind of sense. I mean, it’ll get you in and give you instant credibility with this guy. If your father and grandfather really were collectors, then he’s probably at least heard of them. The club will no doubt look you up to make sure you’re not some poser, so this is kind of the easy way.” Sofia didn’t reply but sat back in her seat. She saw his point and realized the task would be easier if she were able to use her real name and identity. Making it up on the fly would just add to the stress of the situation.

SIX

Sofia was surprised to find the Marvilla in a relatively bland building compared with the glitz and the glam of the rest of South Beach. Tucked away behind a couple of low-key inns, it looked more like an art-deco office building than a club. The inside, however, was anything but boring. Far from the dark and modern clubs of the strip, the Marvilla Club made Sofia feel as though she had tumbled into a flute of champagne. The entryway opened into an enormous art deco style dinner club room complete with mega wealthy clientele sitting on the all-white furnishings. The dinner tables, conversation areas, bar and dance floor were all soft white. Looking around, the club didn’t appear to be themed, just true to the art-deco style. Champagne colored silk led the eye up thirty foot walls to three crystal chandeliers as big as cars.

This would definitely be the place that an antique car enthusiast would seek out. A seventeen piece jazz ensemble was playing on the stage and at that moment, Sofia wanted to forget finding Seydou, grab Quint and dance all night. Sofia emerged from her reverie at a short jab from Quint’s elbow. She looked to find him nodding toward the far end of
bar. An elegant dark haired man in his early forties was looking directly at Sofia. He looked as though he knew exactly who she was. She spoke to Quint. “His friend at the garage must have called him already.”

“Probably. You want me to come over with you?”

“No, but I think I’m going to need a drink after this.”

“I’ll keep an eye on you”. He grinned and headed to the opposite end of the bar.