Geezer Paradise (24 page)

             
Willey said, "She can't have visitors for a couple of days.  Remind me to send some flowers when we get near a florist's shop." 

             
"We'll both send flowers," I said.  I could finally relax a little.  We went out on the deck and I sat in my chair.  We watched the boats go by and life was almost calm again.
Almost
. . . . Suddenly Snydely was there!  I reached for my gun but it was in the house.  Damn.  He must have climbed over the railing.  Snydely casually walked over and sat down in a chair opposite us. 

             
"Good morning gentlemen," Snydely said.  "It's good to see you again."

             
Willey recovered from the shock sooner than I did.  "You're too late Snydely.  We already turned the photos over to the cops." 

             
"I'm not interested in the photos," Snydely said.  "I came here hoping we could come to an agreement."

             
"Like the kind of agreement you made with Mary?" I asked. 

             
Snydely shifted in his chair and looked uncomfortable.  "I heard about that.  I'm truly sorry for what they did to her.  They're dangerous people.  Frankly, they scare the hell out of me.  I'm sorry I ever got mixed up with them."

             
"Where's your gun, Snydely?  Aren't you going to kill us?" Willey chided.

             
"Please gentlemen, I know I made a mistake by working for Flaherty, but I assure you I'm not like them.  I could never hurt anyone."  I breathed a sigh of relief.  I had thought Willey and I were going to meet our maker.

             
"Then why are you here?" I asked.  "What's this about an agreement?"

             
Snydely didn't look as threatening as he had.  In fact, he looked scared.  His lawyerly demeanor had faded.  "It seems I've gotten myself into a tight spot," he said.

             
"Yeah," Willey said.  "Shooting at people can do that to you."

             
"Oh, that wasn't me who shot at you at Ransom's," Snydely said.

             
"Are you saying it was the Senator who shot at us?"

             
"There were only the two of us in that car," Snydely said.  "And I wasn't the one who shot at you.  You figure it out for yourself." 

             
"Is he crazy?" I asked.

             
"Yes, as a matter of fact he is crazy.  He's so strung out on cocaine he can't remember his own name.  He's the one who shot that spear gun at you, too.  Flaherty and Stevens aren't very stable, either.  They're both drunk most of the time, and I think Flaherty is getting paranoid.  I think he suspects me of giving information to the authorities.  Now I have to protect myself from these lunatics.  I feel certain they're going to kill me."

             
I said, "So what kind of an agreement do you have in mind?" 

             
Snydely leaned back in his chair and made a tent with his fingers.  "I'm here because I want you to carry a message to the authorities. Tell them I'll testify against Flaherty and Buckland.  And I think Flaherty and Buckland had Stevens kill the Attorney General's father--pushed him into a trash compactor and squashed him . . . the sick bastards."  Gulp.  I kind of slid down into my chair a little. 

             
"That's what really turned the heat up," Snydely said.  "Now the Attorney General is on Flaherty like white on rice."

             
"Who killed Freddy?" Willey asked."

             
"You mean the lawyer?  I think Flaherty sent Stevens to do that piece of dirty work."

             
"And what do you want for testifying?" I asked.

             
"In return I want them to grant me immunity.  I'll also tell them all I know about bribing Senator Buckland, and I know everything because I was the one who handed over the money.  And, of course, the sooner these people are put behind bars the sooner you two can go back to trailers."

             
"Don't call them trailers," Willey and I said in unison.  "We call them our houses."

             
"Sorry," Snydely said.  "So what do you say?  Will you carry the message for me?"

             
Willey looked at me.  "What do you think, Barney. 

             
I turned to Snydely and asked, "Why should we trust you when you came to the swamp to kill us?  We saw the briefcase with the gun in it." 

             
Snydely said, "First, I don't kill people, Mister McGee.  And second, I came to the swamp with a briefcase with ten thousand dollars in it.  I was instructed to offer you the money for the negatives and any photos you had of Buckland and myself at the restaurant." 

             
I looked at Willey.  He nodded.  "Okay," I said.  "We'll put the offer out there and see what they say.  How do we get in touch with you?" 

             
Snydely took one of his business cards out of his pocket and wrote on the back of it.  "This is my cell phone number.  You can reach me day or night.  Please don't give that number to anyone else, except the authorities."  I figured Flaherty didn't know Snydely's cell phone number or Snydely would have tossed the phone by now.  He handed the card to Willey and stood to leave. 

             
"Thank you gentlemen.  I'll wait to hear from you."  With that he turned and walked to the deck rail.  He threw one leg over the rail and was about to jump to the ground, when he turned.  "Do either of you gentlemen know a Jasper Jones?" he asked. 

             
"Willey said, "He's my nephew, why?" 

             
"Flaherty's goons found him in the swamp and learned he was related to one of you.  They're holding him, and they want to swap him for the photos."  He walked back to us, took out another card and wrote on the back of it. 

             
He handed the card to Willey.  "Here's the address where they have him.  They only have one man guarding him, but my advice to you would be not to confront them.  They'll kill you both, and your nephew.  They can't afford to leave you walking around, you know too much.  Give the police the address and let them handle it."

             
"Damn," Willey said.  "If anything happens to Jasper it will kill Edna."

             
"Wait a minute," I said to Snydely.  "How did you know we were here, anyway?"

             
Snydely smiled, "When I found your Wrangler in the swamp I went to the trouble of having a transmitter installed under the passenger side--on the chassis.  You'll probably want to remove it."  So it wasn't a bomb they planted, it was a transmitter.

             
"And don't worry," Snydely said.  "I'm not going to give your location to Flaherty."  Then he jumped down and disappeared around the side of the house. 

             
I looked at Willey.  "We have to get in touch with Eduardo and tell him about this.  Let him decide the best way to rescue Jasper."  Willey and I sat quietly, trying to digest this turn of events. 

             
The kitchen door opened and Snydely stepped out onto the deck.  He was holding his hands up in the air as if someone was pointing a gun at him.  Sofie came out behind him--holding a pistol with a silencer attached.  Where the hell did she get a silencer? 

             
She had the gun pointed at the back of Snydely's head.  Snydely looked terrified.

             
"Is this one of the men who have been chasing you?" Sofie asked.

             
"Yes," I said.  "But he came here today to make a deal.  He wants to testify against the people he's been working for in return for immunity.  I'm sorry we got you involved in this, Sofie." 

             
Sofie smiled at me.  "I'm glad you're worried about me, Barney, but I can handle people like this.  What do you want me to do with him?"

             
"Well, I don't think there are any warrants out for his arrest," I said.  "So I suppose we have to let him go." 

             
Sofie motioned toward the door with the gun.  "Go," she said to Snydely.  "And don't come back."  Snydely scurried through the doorway.  We could hear him running through the house--he seemed to be in a hurry to leave. 

             
Sofie sat down and put her pistol on the patio table.  "Do either of you own a gun?" she asked.

             
"I have a pistol back in the room," I said. 

             
"Do you know how to use it?"

             
"Yes."

             
"Good," Sofie said.  "I never know when I might need a backup."  She stood up and rubbed the wrinkles out of her apron.  She picked up her gun and said, "I'm just taking an apple pie out of the oven.  Would you boys like a piece?"

             
"Yes," we both said.  And then we had enough manners to say, "Thank you." 

             
"We'll be in right after I make a phone call," Willey said. 

             
Sofie stopped at the kitchen door.  "You don't have to worry," she said.  "You'll be safe here.  That man won't come back."  I believed her.  Willey and I went out to my Wrangler, to remove the transmitter.  It was right where Snydely said it would be.  It was surprisingly small.  I dropped it on the ground and crushed it with the heel of my shoe. 

             
Willey called his sister, Edna--she was hysterical.  Willey promised her we would rescue Jasper.  Then he called Eduardo and told him about Snydely's offer to testify against Flaherty and Buckland, but he didn't mention Jasper.  Eduardo was happy with the news.  We gave him Snydely's telephone number.  Eduardo told us he would be back in about a week.  They were close to wrapping up the terrorist plot. 

             
After Willey disconnected he said, "I knew Eduardo couldn't help us rescue Jasper right away.  And we can't wait that long to get Jasper back.  Edna will have a stroke.  We'll have to do it ourselves."

             
"Do you think just the two of us will be able to pull it off?" I asked.

             
"Maybe we should ask Sofie to help us," Willey said.  "I'd feel a lot safer with her on our side."  We went inside and told Sofie what was going on, and what we needed to do.  Then we asked her if she would help us.

             
"Of course I'll help you," Sofie said without hesitation.  "Now sit down and have some pie."  Yes, we needed Sofie

Chapter Sixteen

IT WAS A warehouse on the outskirts of Palm Harbor.  There was only a sliver of orange moon above, and the darkness was comforting.  The warehouse looked deserted.  Surrounded by trees, it was almost invisible from the street.  We had no idea how to rescue Jasper.  Our only hope was we outnumbered them, or at
least we hoped we did.  We weren't sure how many of them were in there.  One for sure, two possibly, but two at the most.  How many people does it take to watch over someone who was most likely chained to a water pipe?

             
I had my .38 revolver semi-automatic.  Willey had a 9mm Sofie had lent him. Sofie had her pistol--minus the silencer.  We were drawn to the only window that showed light.  I got close and looked in.  The window was grimy and covered with cobwebs, but I could see Jasper sitting on a chair, his right hand handcuffed to a pipe that ran horizontally along the wall.  He looked glum.  Across the room from him sat one of the goons that showed up at the swamp with Snydely.  It was after midnight and the ogre seemed to be nodding off. 

             
There was a second floor but we couldn’t see any outside stairs.  We worked our way around to the rear of the building and found a flight of half rotted stairs leading up to a small landing and a door on the second floor.  We were carrying a pry bar and bolt cutters.  Each of us carried a flashlight.  If we needed more tools we'd just have to improvise.  I started up the stairs with the pry bar.  Willey was behind me shining his flashlight on the stairs so I could avoid the rotted parts.  Sofie held Oscar's hand, her gun in the other hand.  We moved silently up the stairs to the landing.

             
There was a hasp and a padlock on the door.  I put the pry bar next to the hasp and pushed it into the soft wood.  I gently pushed on the bar and the screws came out of the rotted wood.  The door knob turned but it was locked.  I worked the pry bar between the door and the jamb and pushed with all my strength.  The wooden jamb compressed enough to expose the bolt.  The door swung open.  Once inside we turned on our flashlights and looked the place over.  It was filled with steel drums.  I gave one a push.  It was heavy, they were filled with something.  I read the label--it was turpentine.  There was a handrail at the front of the building.  That would be the stairs leading down to the first floor.  As quietly as we could we walked to the front of the building and made our way down the stairs.