Whistler's Angel (30 page)

“Mr. Lockwood…never mind the barmaid either, if you please. Confine yourself to Whistler and Ragland.”

“
That was it. He never goes near Ragland himself.”

“Not a word sinc
“
e Ragland got there.”

“Then why would you think they know each other?”

“From what my guy saw and he says he’s pretty sure. First he saw Ragland’s wife make eye music with Whistler, and then there’s that wave I just told you about.”

“Yes, you told me. But did Whistler respond?”

“He didn’t get a chance because right at that moment, Whistler’s girl friend spots these two jokers outside and she says, like, we better check them out.”

“No idea who they were? Or why they shot Ragland?”

“My guy’s first thought was that maybe it was us. He knew that you and Poole took some heat from Ragland’s show. That’s why he didn’t wait for the cops to show up, but he hung around outside with the crowd. I told him, no way this would have been us. I told him we’d have done it cleaner than that. And most likely it’s me who would have handled it.”

“We would not have done it at all, Mr. Lockwood. Philip Ragland’s an annoyance. Nothing more.”

“Until now, you mean, because now here’s the question. Why was Whistler meeting Ragland? What would Whistler be giving to Ragland?”

Aubrey was silent.

“You still there, Mr. Aubrey?”

“I’m here. I’m thinking.”

“I say Whistler’s going public. I say Ragland, pretty soon, is going to do another show and he’s going to wave that ledger of yours. We all get indicted, all except Mr. Poole. Poole will say how he’s shocked and disappointed. Meanwhile, Whistler walks away, this time for good. Whistler’s already disconnected himself, and it looks like he had help from the cops.”

“Meaning what?”

“Kaplan was watching while this cop talks to Whistler. He says the cop, at first, is trying to act like a cop while the other cops are around. Pretty soon, though, it’s clear the cop is friendly with Whistler. He says the cop also huddled with the barmaid I mentioned. And this barmaid, like I tried to tell you before, there’s something funny about her. She sees people blown away; she never loses her cool, Whistler gives her instructions and she does what he says. Later on, the cop gets there, she huddles with him and he looks like he’s taking instructions from her. Kaplan says…”

“Mr. Lockwood…”

“Oh, and then at the end there’s these whispers between them. The barmaid pats their arms like she’s saying, ‘I’ll handle this. You two make yourselves scarce.’ Then Whistler and the Geller girl slip out the back way, and…”

“Mr. Lockwood, you’re advancing a conspiracy theory that is ludicrous on its face. You’re suggesting that Whistler has assembled a team that consists of almost everyone he’s encountered on that island.”

“What, this is nuts? Then tell me this. How does Whistler walk away? He goes out the back door and from that minute on, it’s like Whistler doesn’t exist. You watch the news; you see nothing about Whistler. Not him, not the girl, not how she threw that knife, not how Whistler grabbed the gun and blasted away at the shooter’s driver outside. It’s all about Ragland. Ragland’s got center stage. Pretty soon, now, he’s going to do his solo.”

“Philip Ragland is a national figure, Mr. Lockwood. That is why he’d be the center of attention.”

“So you’re blowing this off?”

“No, I’m going to think about it.”

“If I’m right, don’t think about it too long.”

“I’ll confer with Mr. Poole.”

“Confer for what? Poole would hang us out to dry. We should move. You should let me take care of this.”

This, from the man who took care of Whistler’s women and nearly got them all killed or maimed. This also from the man who, acting on his own, once
caused a Woods Hole research ship to be seized. Philip Ragland loved that one. It was worth a whole program.

As for the scenario suggested by Lockwood, it seemed unlikely in the extreme. Why would Whistler get in bed with Philip Ragland, especially? Surely Ragland was a critic of his government’s drug policy, but he was only one of many and a lesser one at that. Why would Whistler go to Ragland as opposed to, for example, CNN, The New York Times or 60 Minutes? And why now, for that matter? Because his year was almost up? That year was the father’s suggestion, not theirs. What possible relevance could that have?

And yet it was troubling. The coincidence above all. Whistler sails to that island, hangs around doing nothing, goes out to a restaurant one evening. Philip Ragland shows up on the very same island and goes to the very same restaurant. And yet if those two were planning to meet, would they not have done so in secret? Why be seen together? Why would Ragland bring his wife? Why go
through a charade of not knowing each other? According to Lockwood, they exchanged non-verbal greetings. That would seem to defeat the charade.

“Mr. Lockwood, I’m in need of more information. Is your man still on the scene surveilling Whistler?”

“Uh-huh. And he’s checking out that cop and the barmaid.”

“Forget about them. Is your man watching Whistler?”

“As good as he can. Whistler moved his boat. He’s keeping it out on open water.”

“Fly down there. Take our plane. You can be there by mid-morning. All I want you to do is watch and report. Need I add that you are not to let them see you?”

“Prick’ll see me one more time before I shoot out both his eyes.”

“Mr. Lockwood…have you heard me? Did you understand me?”

“You said to just watch. That’s okay; I can wait. Anyway, first I want to mess up the girl. I want Whistler to know that’s for Briggs. Oh, and you.”

Oh, and me
,
thought Aubrey. Good of him to remember. “Leave at once, Mr. Lockwood. Call the minute you get there. As for our Mr. Poole, he’s less removed than you think. Don’t imagine that he is unindictable. I’ll deal with Poole and you’ll do as you’re told. I’ll say again that you’re to take no action. Am I clear on that, Mr. Lockwood?”

“How about I take Briggs? Get him back on the horse.”

Aubrey blinked. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“What, because he’s still mad? This could help him get over it.”

“Mr. Lockwood…I’m still not sure that you hear me. You will not take Briggs, nor would he wish to go. Beyond that, you’re not going to a Halloween party. He would hardly blend in with the populace.”

“Yeah, I know. The face. I just thought…”

“Do not think.”

“Hey, why do you always have to be such a shit? It’s me thinking that fixed it so we know where Whistler is. It’s me thinking that got him where we can get at him before he messes up what we got here.”

“Mr. Lockwood, I’ll remind you… No, I won’t. Never mind.”

“Just tell me we’ll finish what we started this time. No more deals, no more pay-offs. We just fix it.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Lockwood.” But in my way, not yours. Depend on it, however. “We’ll fix it.”

As the boat that was bringing Sergeant Moore approached, Whistler took a moment to step below decks and switch on his cell phone and satellite phone and also his answering machine. He was halfway back topside when the satellite phone chirped. He reached for it, thinking that the caller might be Leslie.

He said, “Sorry. It was off. What’s happening, Leslie?”

But the call had come from much farther away. His father’s voice answered. “You tell me.”

“Dad? Oh, Hi.” He tried not to sound startled.

“Good morning, Adam. I’m in need of reassurance. I’m hoping you’ll tell me that you had no part in what happened on that island last night.”

“You’re talking about that shootout in some local bar? How did you hear about that?”

“Adam…we do have TV in Geneva. More specifically, we have CNN.”

Oh, great, thought Whistler. Now it’s gone international. His father had probably been at his computer checking every new wire service update. He would also be looking at a little yellow blip that showed, within yards, the
boat’s location.

“Dad, we’re not even on the island at the moment. We’re anchored off shore and we’re about to have breakfast. Some friends we’ve made here are on their way out to join us. I thought that’s who was calling when I answered.”

“If that’s so, why would you ask this Leslie what’s happening?”

“What’s happening? Dad, that’s just an expression. You know, like, ‘How goes it? Wie Gehts?’”

“Were you on the boat when the shooting took place?”

“No, we’d gone out for a nice quiet dinner. As a matter of fact, we were with these same friends. When they get here you can ask them yourself if you’d like.”

The line went silent for a beat. “But you knew about the shooting.”

“Everyone does. It’s all over the news.”

His father asked, “And you don’t know this Ragland?”

“I’d never even heard of the man.”

“Adam, I think you understand why I’d wonder. You would seem to
have a good deal in common with the victim. By extension, so would Aubrey and Poole.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you that it didn’t cross my mind. But all I know is what they’re saying on the tube.” He paused. “Look, Dad, our company’s here. I’ve got to go help them tie up alongside.”

“Why’d you turn off your phone?”

“So we wouldn’t get called. Because every now and then, we’d rather not be disturbed. Will you stop with the suspicions? We’re okay. We’re just fine.”

“And you’re staying clear of trouble? You’re sure?”

“Believe me, I’ve been doing my best.”

“Kate Geller tried to call you. They get CNN in Colorado as well and she had the same uneasy feeling that I had. She was ready to jump on a plane. You should call her…no, wait…I’d better do it myself. Listen, Adam, while we’re on the subject of Kate, let me ask how you’d feel if…after Kate sells her business…”

“She’s found a buyer?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“You’re saying it’s you. Does she know that?”

“Not yet. Listen, Adam…” Another silence, this one longer. “How would you feel if, not now, but down the road…”