The Evening News (47 page)

The car immediately ahead had moved forward, leaving a gap
.”
Both of your drivers can pass around to the left, sir. Just follow me to
the barrier, then join the onward traffic. Again, I'm sorry for what I
said
.”

The trooper motioned the hearse and GMC truck out of line, at the same time
signaling a car behind to continue forward. Glancing back, Miguel could
still see no sign of the Plymouth Reliant. Well, he reasoned, Carlos would
have to take care of himself
.
The trooper preceded them on foot until they were level with the portable
booth they had seen from a distance, then waved them by. The road ahead was
clear
.
As the hearse passed him, Trooper Quiles snapped a smart salute, holding it
until both vehicles were gone.
Put to its first test, Miguel thought, their cover story had worked. With
the challenge of Teterboro still to come, he wondered: Would it work again?

During the weeks they had been at Hackensack, Miguel had visited Teterboro
Airport twice to study the layout
.
It was a busy airport used exclusively by private planes. During an average
twenty-four hours some four hundred flights might land and take off, many
of them at night. About a hundred aircraft made Teterboro their base and
were parked along the northeast perimeter. Along the northwest perimeter
were the headquarters buildings of six companies which provided operating
services for visiting and resident aircraft. Each company had a private
entrance to the airport and handled its own security
.
Of Teterboro's six service companies, the largest was Brunswick Aviation
,
the one which, at Miguel's suggestion, the incoming Leatjet 55LR from
Colombia would use
.
During one of his visits Miguel masqueraded as the owner of a private plane
and met with Brunswick's general manager as well as the managers of two
other companies. From those meetings it became evident that, for the
purpose of loading an aircraft, certain areas of the airport were more
secluded and private than others. The least private and most popular
arrival and parking area was known as the Table, centrally located near the
operators' buildings
.
The least-used parking area, regarded as inconvenient, was at the south
end. Requests for space there were granted gladly since it relieved
pressure at the Table. Also nearby was a locked gate, opened on request by
any of the Teterboro operating companies
.
Armed with this knowledge, Miguel had sent a message to Bogoti through his
contact at New York's Colombian consulate, advising that the incoming
Leaijet should request space at the south end near the gate. Then today
,
making one final use of a cellular phone, he had called Brunswick Aviation
requesting that the south gate be opened from 7:45 to 8:15 P.m
.
Miguel knew from his earlier conversations at Teterboro
t
hat such a request was not unusual. Owners of private aircraft often had business they preferred others not to know about and the airport's operators had a reputation for discretion. One of the airport managers had even described to Miguel an incident concerning an incoming load of marijuana
.
After observing suspicious-looking bales being moved from an airplane to
a truck, the manager had telephoned police, prompting the drug
traffickers' arrest. But afterward the aircraft owner, a regular
Teterboro user, complained bitterly about invasion of his privacy when
,
as he put it, "This is supposed to be a discreet, dependable airport
.”

Now, as the hearse and truck neared Teterboro, Miguel directed Luis
toward the south gate. Though he did not expect to avoid security
attention entirely, he was gambling on its being more informal there than
at a main entrance
.
There had been a stressful silence in the hearse since the encounter with
the State Police. But with tensions easing, Socorro told Miguel, "Back
there you were imagnificol
”

“
Yeah
,”
Luis added
.
Miguel shrugged
.”
Don't relax. There may be more to come
.”

As they neared the airport fence, he checked his watch: 8:25. They were
already a half hour late, also ten minutes after the time he had asked
for the south gate to stay open
.
When the headlights of the hearse lit up the gate, it was closed and
locked. Beyond was darkness-no one in sight. Frustrated, Miguel slammed
a fist on
to the dashboard, exclaiming, "
Mierdal
”
Luis got out of the hearse to inspect the lock. From the truck behind
,
Rafael joined him, then walked back to the hearse
.”
I can blow that
mother open with one bullet
,”
he told Miguel
.
Miguel shook his head, wondering why one of the Learjet pilots had not
met them here. In the darkness he could make out several parked aircraft
inside the fence, but no lights or activity. Could the flight have been
delayed? Whatever the answer, he knew they must use the Brunswick
Aviation main entrance.
He told Luis and Rafael, "Get back in
.”

As they turned away from the south gate, the Plymouth Reliant fell in
behind. Obviously, Carlos had come safely through the police roadblock. His
instructions were to follow as far as the airport entrance, then wait
outside until the hearse and truck returned
.
Approaching the brightly lit Brunswick building, they saw that another gate
blocked their way. Beside it, at the doorway to a guard post, stood a
uniformed security man. Next to him a tall, balding man in civilian clothes
was peering intently at the oncoming hearse. A police detective? Once more
Miguel felt a tightening of his gut
.
The second man stepped forward. Probably in his early fifties, he moved
with authority. Luis lowered his window and the man asked, "Do you have an
uncommon shipment for Seftor Pizarro
?
”

A wave of relief swept over Miguel. It was a coded question, prearranged
.
He used an answering code he had memorized, "The consignment is ready for
transfer and all papers are in order
.”

The newcomer nodded
.”
I'm your pilot. Name's Underhill
.”

His accent was
American
.”
Goddamn, you're late
!”

"We had problems
.”

"Don't bother me with them. I've filed a flight plan. Let's get going
.”

As
he went around to the passenger side, Underhill motioned to the guard and
the gate swung open
.
Clearly, there was to be no security check, no police inspection. Their
cover story, so painstakingly prepared, was not needed. Miguel found he
didn't mind at all
.
It was a squeeze with four on the hearse front seat, but they managed to
close the door. The pilot directed Luis as the hearse moved onto a taxi
strip between blue lights and headed for the airport's south side. The GMC
truck was behind
.
Several aircraft loomed ahead. The pilot pointed to the largest, a Learjet
55LR. From its shadows a figure emerged
.
Underhill said tersely, "Faulkner. Copilot
.”

On the Learjet's left side a clamshell door was open; the
l
ower half included steps from the fuselage to the ground. The copilot had gone inside and lights were coming on
.
Luis maneuvered the back of the hearse close to the Lear's steps for
unloading. The truck stopped a short distance away and from it, Julio
,
Rafael and Baudelio jumped down
.
With ev
eryone assembled around the Learj
et doorway, Underhill asked, "How
many live ones are flying
?
”

"Four
,”
Miguel answered
.”
I need those names for the manifest
,”
the pilot said, "also the names
of the dead. Apart from that, Faulkner and I don't want to,
know anything
about you or your business. We're providing a contract charter flight
.
Nothing else
.”

Miguel nodded. He had no doubt both pilots would earn golden pay for this
journey tonight. The Latin America-U.S. air routes were loaded with air
crews, Americans and others, who flirted with the law, taking high risks
for big money. As for these two, Miguel didn't care one way or the other
about their wish to distance themselves from what was happening. He
doubted, though, that it would make any difference if they fell into real
trouble. The pilots would share it too
.
With the copilot supervising and Rafael, Julio, Luis and Miguel lifting
,
the first casket containing Jessica was transferred from the hearse to
the jet. Making the turn through the fuselage doorway was difficult, with
barely an inch to spare. Inside, the right-side seats had been removed
.
Straps to hold cargo in place-in this instance the caskets-were attached
to tracks on the floor and other fittings overhead
.
By the time the first casket was loaded, the hearse had been moved away
and the truck backed in. The other two caskets followed speedily, after
which Miguel, Baudelio, Socorro and Rafael boarded and the clamshell door
was closed. No one bothered with goodbyes. As Miguel seated himself and
looked through a window, the lights of the two vehicles were already
receding
.
With the copilot still fastening straps around the caskets, the pilot
flipped switches in the cockpit and the whine of engines began. The
copilot went forward and the radio crackled
as tower clearance was asked for and received. Moments later they were taxiing
.
Reaching over from his seat, Baudelio began connecting external monitoring
equipment to the caskets. He con
tinued to work at it as the Learj
et took
off, climbed swiftly through the darkness and headed south for Florida.

On the ground, some unfinished business remained
.
As the hearse and GMC truck emerged from the airport, Carlos, waiting
outside, put the Plymouth in gear and followed the hearse to Paterson, some
ten miles west. There Luis drove the hearse to a modest funeral home which
had been randomly selected in advance and parked on the establishment's
lot. He left the keys inside, walked quickly to the Plymouth and drove away
with Carlos
.
Perhaps, in the morning, the funeral home owner would wrestle with his
conscience about calling police or waiting to see what happened, if
anything, about an apparent gift of a valuable hearse. Whatever the
outcome, Carlos, Luis and the others would be far away
.
From Paterson, Carlos and Luis traveled six miles north to Ridgewood where
Julio had, by this time, driven the GMC truck. He left it outside the
premises of a used-truck dealership which had closed for the night. It
seemed possible that an unclaimed, almost-new truck might eventually be
absorbed, its presence never reported
.
The other two picked up Julio at a prearranged point nearby, then the trio
returned to the Hackensack hideaway for the last time. There, Julio and
Luis switched to the Chevrolet Celebrity and Ford Tempo. Without further
delay, they and Carlos dispersed
.
They would leave the cars at widely divergent points, with the doors
unlocked and ignition keys in place-the last in the hope that someone would
steal the cars, thus making any connection with the Sloane family
kidnapping highly improbable.