Jay Giles (21 page)
“Yeah. You’ll be in the sack in no time,” Tory said with a smile.
Fish turned red. “I need another beer.” He turned and went back in the kitchen.
“We need to go,” I said to Tory.
“Okay.” She put her shoes back on, got up. “I’m ready.”
“Good luck tomorrow,” I said to Fish as we headed out the door. “We’ll catch up afterwards, see how it went.”
On the ride down in the elevator, I asked Tory, “What do you think about this dinner and dancing thing?”
“Sounds like a woman with a plan. She’s moving things along.”
The elevator reached the ground floor, the doors opened. “That’s what I’m thinking,” I said, agreeing with her. We walked to the Saab, and I drove her back to the Circle where she’d left her car. On the way, I let her know I was going to meet with Raines in the morning.
She looked over at me. “You want me to go with you?”
“No. I’d rather have you concentrate on the Merrill Lynch/Nevitt connection.”
She groaned. “I didn’t realize you were such a slave driver.”
I chuckled, pulled the Saab into a space next to her car. “I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon; how’s that?”
“I may have died from carpal tunnel by then.” She grinned, got in her car, and drove away.
I drove home, worked out in the gym for an hour, took a shower, read for a little bit, went to bed. Unfortunately, although I was tired, I was also wound up. Too worried to fall asleep.
Everything hinged on what Raines had to say the next morning.
At the dry dock office, I asked for Mike. He turned out to be a short wiry man wearing a wife-beater, faded swimming trunks, flip-flops. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth. “Paul told me you was comin’. Boat’s ready,” he said, flicking his cigarette away.
I followed him out to the docks and a small fishing boat. He untied the lines, indicated I should get in. He jumped in after me, started the motor, guided us out into
Sarasota
Bay
.
I wanted to ask where we were going, but the engine noise made talking difficult. I sat back, tried to enjoy the ride. We crossed the bay, ran north to
Bradenton
. Mike slowed the boat for a no-wake zone, entered a waterway, pulled up to a private dock. He nodded at the house. “Paul’s inside.”
I got out of the boat, started up to the house, hesitated. “Are you going to take me back?”
“Yeah, don’t be all day.”
I walked up to the back door, knocked, looked in. It was the kitchen of someone’s home. Paul opened the door. “C’mon, in.” He led me to the kitchen table. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” I took a seat.
He poured two cups from a Mr. Coffee, handed me one, sat across the table from me. “Why aren’t you a thousand miles away from here?” he wanted to know.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Life is never that simple. Survival is.”
I gave him the Reader’s Digest version of why I didn’t want to go; he shook his head.
“You should leave,” he said when I finished. “You can start over someplace else.”
“I may do that.” I took a sip of my coffee. “Couple of things I’d like to know first.”
He nodded.
“You said Enrico and his nephews were coming to town. When exactly? Is this a special visit? Do they come often?”
His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. He looked like he was going to clam up on me.
“Please. I know it’s sensitive information. I just need to know so I can make my peace with this.”
His face relaxed a little. He stroked his moustache. “Enrico and his entourage will arrive in seventeen days. It’s a regularly scheduled visit. They come twice a year to review the investments D’Onifrio has made on the cartel’s behalf. The difference this time is that Enrico is going to make his decision. He wants all three of them present for the announcement.”
“Do you know where they’ll be staying?”
“They always stay at the same place, the
Colony
Beach
.”
Figured. The Colony, just down the beach from me on Longboat Key, attracted the rich and famous from around the world. A contingent of South American businessmen wouldn’t be out of place at all.
“How long will they be there?”
Raines took a sip of his coffee. “Their reservations are for two weeks.”
“How soon after they arrive do you think Enrico will make this announcement?”
He looked at his coffee cup, frowned. “That’s hard to say. My guess is he’ll want to go over D’Onifrio’s resume with a fine-tooth comb, make sure there’s nothing there that could prove embarrassing. How long will that take?” He shrugged. “If D’Onifrio passes muster, I think Enrico will go ahead, quickly make the announcement. This has been hanging over his head a long time. I think he wants to get it over with.”
“What would happen if something embarrassing turned up?”
“Depends on how embarrassing.”
“Say this stolen three hundred thousand dollars D’Onifrio missed.”
Raines stroked his moustache, thought.
I took a sip of my coffee, waited. This was payoff time.
“You’ve got a couple of factors,” he said finally. “Enrico has already told key advisors on the senior council that he favors D’Onifrio. How invested that makes him, how betrayed he’d feel, I don’t know. I do know that in their culture you don’t make the big guy look bad without suffering the consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?”
“Could be anything from demotion to death. Although—even if D’Onifrio embarrassed him badly—I don’t think Enrico would have him killed. You don’t kill somebody who saved your life. The nephews, on the other hand, would kill D’Onifrio in a heartbeat. They’d jump on an opportunity to eliminate a rival.”
“Which nephew is the bigger threat?”
He grinned. “Depends on whether you’d rather be shot or have your throat slit. They’re both dangerous.”
“Let’s say the nephews decided to eliminate him. Would it happen immediately? Would they do it here? Or would they do it in
Columbia
?”
“Little Ernie’s a hothead. He’d try and do it the day of the announcement. Eduardo might, too. I don’t think either of them is worried about the
U.S.
authorities, if that’s what you’re asking.” He stood, walked over to the Mr. Coffee, held up the pot. I shook my head. He poured some in his cup. “D’Onifrio won’t go down easily, either. He’ll be prepared for anything, probably armed to the teeth.”
“Are you saying the nephews might not be able to kill him?”
He walked back to the table, sat down. “Be tough. Even with all the firepower in their entourage, and they’re bringing fifteen bodyguards.”
“But they can’t bring guns into the country?”
“They have people here for that. By the time they get in cars to leave the airport, they’ll be fully armed.”
I finished my coffee. “Does Enrico speak English?”
“A little. The nephews are fluent.” He smiled. “Television.”
“Where do they hold their meetings?”
“Usually at Shore. Although one year when Enrico was ill, they used a meeting room at the Colony.” Raines must have sensed I was running out of questions. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re thinking. But I hope what I’ve told you makes you understand it’s a bad idea. Get away from these people. They’ve killed four of my men. They won’t hesitate to kill you.” He stood.
I did, too. “Thanks for meeting with me.” I held out my hand, we shook.
“Sorry to bother you at home.”
“This isn’t my house. It belonged to one of my operatives. They tortured him to death last week.”
I had a ton of work waiting for me when I returned to the office. “It’s all this gallivanting around you’ve been doing,” Rosemary said, summing up the problem.
She was right. I’d been out of the office way too much. The clients had to be wondering. Worse, I didn’t see how the situation was going to get any better for the next couple of weeks.
I’d had talks with a young broker at Smith Barney, Saul Badgett, about joining the firm. He was a sharp young kid who’d be great to help out and “grow the business.” But I hated to bring him on with Fowler and the N.A.S.D. hanging over my head. It wouldn’t be fair to Saul to have him join, then go out of business.
So I chained myself to my desk and worked. At six, Rosemary stuck her head in to let me know she was leaving. “I’m impressed,” she said. “You got a good bit accomplished.”
I still had a pile in front of me. “Guilt,” I told her. “I don’t want the clients feeling I’m neglecting them.”
She smiled. “Well, I haven’t heard any talk about stringing you up by your thumbs yet.”
“Only because you’ve covered for me so beautifully.”
She blushed, made a face. “Oh, go on.”
“Just want you to know I appreciate all you’re doing.”
She beamed. “See you in the morning.” I heard her lock the front door as she left.
I went back to the stack, was almost to the bottom when the phone rang.
I picked up the receiver, hit the button. “
Seattle
on Stocks.”
“Matt. Tory. I wanted to call and let you know I’ve done all I can on this Merrill Lynch investigation. I haven’t found anything. Sorry.”
So was I. If she’d found something, anything, I could have gotten Nevitt off my back. “You said it was going to be tough.”
“I tried everything I know to try. Whoever’s guilty has hidden it really well.”
“The Nevitt connection. Anything there?”
“I’m afraid not. I cross-referenced him with everybody at Merrill Lynch. No matches.”
“Thanks for trying,” I said, discouraged.
She rang off.
I tried to go back to work. But after her phone call, my heart wasn’t in it. I turned off my computer, left for home. I stopped at Publix, picked up a salad. In my present mood, I needed something simple. No preparation. No cleanup. Back at the condo, I ate my salad right out of the plastic container, washed it down with wine in a plastic cup. Dinner over, I rinsed the plastic, put it in the recycling bin, and got out my Blackberry. I wanted to enter what Raines had told me while it was still fresh in my mind.
When everything was entered, I stared at it, tried to sort it out. My plan had been vague at best. Get information about D’Onifrio’s sloppiness to Enrico and crew, see if I could start a fight between them. What Raines had given me confirmed that was possible, not probable. I wasn’t going to be able to get anywhere near Enrico or the nephews.
I worried about it for more than two hours. Frustrated with myself, I got up, put on a pair of swim trunks and a tee shirt. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone for a midnight walk on the beach to sort things out. I left my shoes by a chair on the pool deck and walked to the Gulf’s edge. It was a warm night with a sky full of stars, just a touch of a breeze. I walked on the wet sand, letting the waves wash over my feet as they ran up on the beach. Usually, a walk at the water’s edge relaxed me. Tonight, my mind was too confused, conflicted to enjoy this simple pleasure.
“Well, well. It’s just you and me. How about that?”
William Wilder stood ten feet in front of me, a gun in his hand.
I froze.
He took a couple of steps forward. He was dressed in a fancy shirt and tie. Braces held up his trousers. His concession to being on the beach was no suit jacket. He was grinning wildly.
“What do you want?” I was scared, but I was also tired, and that made me irritable.
He laughed. “Oooh, getting brave are we? You won’t feel so brave when I tell you want I want.” He raised the gun and pointed it at my head. “I want to put a hole right between your eyes.” He pretended to pull the trigger. “Poof, you’re dead.” He put the gun down. “You’re lucky. Tonight is not about what I want, it’s about what Mr. D’Onifrio wants. He wants to see you.”
“Great, I’ll call him in the morning, go by the bank.” I started to turn to walk back to my condo.
“Not tomorrow. Now.”
I stopped, half turned around. “What if I don’t want to go now?”
He grinned. “He said I could pistol whip you, not so bad you couldn’t talk, but pretty bad.”
I didn’t doubt him. In fact, he was probably hoping I’d give him trouble so he could hurt me. I took a deep breath, blew out. “Where are we going? I don’t have any shoes on.”
“Poor baby, doesn’t have any shoes. You’re going to have to walk over broken glass, too.”
I followed Wilder to his car, thankful I was walking on sand, concrete, and asphalt. He drove us to D’Onifrio’s house, a huge, walled estate on the water south of town. A guard opened the gate at the end of the driveway. Wilder pulled up in front of the house, stopped, turned off the engine. “Ring the door bell. He’s waiting for you.” I got out and walked up to the door. The driveway was loose gravel that felt like broken glass. I reached the door, pressed the bell.
Ding dong, ding dong, ding ding ding dong, it echoed inside.
The door was opened by a young blond woman wearing a man’s white dress shirt and nothing else. I could tell there wasn’t anything else because she only had the very bottom button buttoned. Ann, the girl from the bank.
“Close your mouth and come on in,” she smiled at me. “He’s waiting on you, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I shut my mouth, remembered Tory’s description of this place as the Playboy mansion South.
“This way.” She led me down a long hall to a media room in the back of the house. A porno flick was playing on a projection TV system with a screen so large the assembled body parts looked life-size.
D’Onifrio was sitting on a leather sofa, watching. Ann tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, looked at her, then at me. “Sit.” He pointed at a chair next to the sofa.
I sat. Or rather, perched. Nervously.
He stared at me, his face tired, his hair disheveled. He was wearing a black satin robe. I don’t think he had anything else on. Not even his hearing aids. There was no whine. “Fish tells me his involvement with this woman is going well. Wilder tells me he thinks it’s going well. I want to know what you think.”
I swallowed. “I think she’s bought the idea that Fish is a multi-millionaire and she’s starting to put the moves on him. It’s actually going faster than I thought—”
“How fast?” he said, his face turning more intense.
“Pretty fast, I think.” I fumbled for words.
He scowled. His eyes looked away from me, back to the screen, back to me.
“They went to dinner and dancing together. She suggested the dancing. I think that’s pretty good, considering she’s only known him a couple of days.”
“How much longer will it take?”
I shook my head. “The way she’s acting, I don’t think it’s going to be too much longer.”
“Not good enough,” he glared at me, his eyes narrowing. “My depositors are demanding an accounting. Every day the money is not where it belongs makes them angrier.”
“I’m trying to—”
“I want you to feel the pressure I feel,” he shouted at me. “What do I need to do to make you move faster? Do I need to torch your business? Do I need to hurt one of your friends? Do I need to hurt you? I will do whatever I need to do to get the money back. Understand?”
“I hear you,” I said quietly.
Now that he’d threatened me, he smiled. “Good.” He turned away from me, watched the screen.
I assumed that meant he was through with me. I stood and returned the way I’d come in. Wilder was waiting for me outside, standing by the car. When he saw me, he got in, started the engine. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, but I wanted to get home. Reluctantly, I opened the passenger door and got in.
We rode to Watergate in silence. He pulled in the entrance, stopped the car, looked at me, grinned. “End of the line.”
I felt lucky to be home. I opened the door and climbed out.
“Last guy I killed took two days to die,” he told me before I closed the door. He laughed hysterically, hit the accelerator. The car threw gravel on me as he pulled back out on
Gulf of Mexico Drive
. I turned and walked down the drive to my building.
As I walked, I tried to assess what had just happened. D’Onifrio had wanted to personally pressure me. That had to mean the pressure on him was getting really intense. Confirmation of what Raines had told me earlier in the day.
My watch said two-fifteen when I entered the condo. I closed and locked the door behind me, poured myself a glass of wine, took my second shower of the evening, got into bed, and tried to will myself to sleep. I tossed and turned, becoming more and more agitated until the shrill ring of the phone shattered the night’s quiet.
The bedside clock read three-fifty as I grabbed the receiver off the cradle. No phone call at this time of night is good news. “Hello.”
“Is this Mr. Matthew Seattle?” a male voice asked.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Mr. Seattle, this is Sarasota Metro Fire Department.”
