Insane City (45 page)

civic duty. That’s our story.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think Mike’s gonna want—”

“Mike wants the Haitians gone,” snapped Brewer. “That was our job, and we fucked it up, and if

they show up back at the hotel on a fucking pirate boat, we’re going to look like idiots. I don’t want to

look like an idiot. Do
you
want to look like an idiot?” He turned his oozing face toward Castronovo, who

almost flinched at the fury he saw in his partner’s eyes.

“This is really about the monkey, isn’t it?” said Castronovo. “You want to kill the monkey.”

Brewer looked back toward the
Barco Loco
. “Just get me close,” he said.

“You guys ready down there?” called Bobby.

“Almost,” shouted Duane.

“Hurry up,” said Bobby. To his left, the
Bay Wanderer
was once again pulling even. Brewer, on the

walkway, raised his gun, this time very clearly aiming at Bobby. And this time, instead of responding with

the finger, Bobby raised both hands in a surrender gesture. Brewer signaled
Cut the engine
. Bobby

reached down and backed the throttles down to idle. The
Barco Loco
slowed, then stopped, wallowing in

the swells. The
Bay Wanderer
eased closer, the two ships’ hulls nearly touching. Brewer, keeping his gun

aimed at Bobby, looked down onto the
Barco Loco
’s main deck but saw nobody.

“Where are they?” Brewer called to Bobby.

“Below,” said Bobby.

“I’m getting on your boat,” said Brewer.

“What do you want?”

“I just told you, asshole. I’m getting on your boat.”

Bobby shrugged. “Over there,” he said, pointing forward to the gangplank opening in the
Barco

Loco
’s main-deck railing.

Keeping an eye, and his gun, on Bobby, Brewer sidestepped along the walkway toward the opening.

Reaching it, he heaved a leg over the
Bay Wanderer
’s railing, preparing to board the pirate ship.

“Now,” said Bobby.

BOOM!
went the propane cannon four feet from where Brewer was climbing over the rail.

Ordinarily the cannon barrel was empty, shooting only hot air. This time it contained roughly a pound

of frozen chicken nuggets, which Seth had brought up from the refrigerator in the
Barco Loco
galley and

which Duane had loaded into the cannon from the back. Propelled by the exploding propane, the frozen

nuggets left the cannon barrel at a velocity of around three hundred feet per second. They struck Brewer in

the stomach, chest and groin, knocking him back off the rail and onto the walkway of the
Bay Wanderer
.

His gun flew out of his hand, bounced and clattered on the deck, then went overboard.

Before it splashed into the ocean, Bobby shoved the
Barco Loco
throttles full forward. He waved

jauntily to the passengers on the
Bay Wanderer
, who waved back and applauded the pirate ship’s captain,

convinced now that they were watching a performance.

As the
Barco Loco
pulled away, Castronovo burst out from the bridge door and ran to Brewer, who

lay on his back, moaning.

“You OK?” said Castronovo.

“No!” said Brewer. “They
shot
me!”

“Lemme look,” said Castronovo, kneeling and lifting Brewer’s polo shirt. Brewer’s belly was

covered with dozens of red welts interspersed with a few bleeding cuts inflicted by nugget shrapnel.

“You’ll live,” said Castronovo.

“I’m gonna kill those assholes,” said Brewer.

“No you’re not,” said Castronovo. “We’re going to go back to shore and try to get out of this mess.

And we’re going to pray that Mike doesn’t fire us.”

He stood up and looked at the receding bulk of the
Barco Loco
motoring on toward the Ritz, now

visible in the distance. Duane and Seth had rejoined Bobby on the bridge. Seth looked back, saw

Castronovo watching, smiled broadly and waved.

Castronovo, a professional, resisted the urge to shoot him.

71

It was a measure of the clout that Mike Clark possessed at the federal level that less than fifteen

minutes after he made a phone call, four armed agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement arrived

at the Ritz. They drove a black ICE sedan and white van, both of which they left out front, instructing the

hotel staff that these vehicles were not to be moved.

Their arrival was noted with interest by a valet named Philippe Jeunet. As soon as the agents entered

the hotel, Philippe had his cell phone out, dialing his fellow Haitian and Ritz employee, groundskeeper

Carl Juste.

72

“He wasn’t kidding,” said Marty. “It’s a pirate ship.”

The Groom Posse stood on the beach in front of the Ritz, watching, along with a few dozen

beachgoers, as the
Barco Loco
drifted to a stop and dropped anchor about seventy-five yards offshore.

Figures were moving around on the deck. The Groom Posse recognized Seth, then Duane, with Blossom

on his shoulders.

“How’d he end up with the snake guy?” said Kevin.

“How’d he end up on a pirate ship?” responded Marty. “With an orangutan?”

“Good point,” said Kevin.

“How’re they gonna get to the beach?” said Big Steve.

“Dinghy, looks like,” said Marty. The shipboard figures were lowering a pontoon boat from davits

mounted on the stern of the
Barco Loco
.

Marty felt a tap on his shoulder, turned and saw Carl, in his groundskeeper’s uniform.

“You’re with the wedding, right?” he said. “I saw you yesterday. You’re Seth’s friend?”

“I’m his best man,” said Marty. “Why?”

“Because I need to find him. I tried to call his room but there is no answer. This is very important.”

“What is it?”

Carl hesitated.

“If it’s about the Haitians he was hiding in his room,” said Marty, “we know about that.”

“All right,” said Carl. “There are some ICE agents here at the hotel.”

“ICE?”

“Immigration. Somebody must have reported Laurette.”

“Jesus,” said Marty.

“So I am trying to tell Seth this, because they must not—”

“They’re not in his room,” said Marty.

“Where are they?”

Marty pointed. “On the pirate ship.”

“On the ship? Why?”

“Long story. Some guys took them out of the hotel. Seth went after them and now he’s bringing them

back to the hotel.” As he spoke, the figures on the pirate ship got the pontoon boat into the water.

“But they cannot come here,” said Carl. “Not now.”

Marty looked at Kevin and Big Steve. “Does Seth have his phone?”

“I don’t think so,” said Kevin. “Wait, that girl he’s with does. I got her number.” He dug into his

pocket, pulled out the paper he’d written Cyndi’s number on, handed it to Marty.

“Steve, give me your phone,” said Marty. He grabbed it and dialed.

Cyndi was on the main deck of the
Barco Loco
, holding Laurette’s baby. Laurette had her arm around

Stephane, the two of them looking toward the beach, which is where they clearly would have preferred to

be. Meghan was sitting cross-legged on the floor, gently stroking Trevor’s fur. Trevor was lying quite

still, as he had been since the wild boat ride had started.

Cyndi’s phone rang. She shifted the baby and pulled the phone from her purse. “Hello? Who?” She

waved the phone at Seth, who was standing by the rail, helping Bobby and Duane with the pontoon boat.

“Seth! It’s Marty!”

Seth trotted over, grabbed the phone. “Hello?” He looked at the beach, waved. “I see you. Listen,

I’m bring— Oh. Oh no. Shit— Well, we can’t stay out here all day— OK, OK, stay there. I’m gonna come

in and try to straighten this out— No, I understand, they’ll stay out here. Is Carl there with you? Put him

on, OK? . . . Hey Carl— Right, I understand. Listen, can you explain this to Laurette? She has to be

wondering what the hell is going on. Tell her that as soon as we can, we’ll get her back on land, OK? I

don’t think she likes the boat— Right. OK, here she is.”

Seth handed the phone to Laurette, who began an animated conversation with Carl.

Duane and Bobby drifted over. “What’s going on?” said Duane.

“We have a problem,” said Seth. “There’s federal immigration guys in the hotel. Carl thinks they’re

looking for Laurette.”

“How did that happen?” said Cyndi.

“Somebody must’ve reported them.”

Meghan started to say something, stopped.

“So we have a problem,” continued Seth. “We can’t take Laurette and the kids in there right now.”

“We can’t sit out here forever,” said Meghan.

“I know,” said Seth. “I’m hoping the immigration guys don’t find anything and leave. I’m going to

take the dinghy in, see what I can find out. Also I need to talk to Tina, explain what’s going on.”

Meghan again almost said something but didn’t.

Laurette finished her conversation and handed the phone back to Seth.

“Carl?” he said. “Right. Right. Of course. OK, tell Marty I’m heading in now. Bye.” He handed the

phone to Cyndi, then knelt in front of Laurette. He took her hand, looked into her eyes.

“I know you don’t understand what I’m saying,” he said. “And I know you’re scared and you want to

get off the boat. I’m really, really sorry about what you’ve been through today. But I promise you it will

work out. We won’t let them take you. OK?”

Laurette squeezed his hand and said,
“Mêci.”

“Mêci,”
said Seth. He stood, turned to Bobby and Duane. “OK, I’m going in. I’ll be back. Will you

guys be OK out here?”

“We’ll be fine,” said Bobby.

“Plenty of tequila,” said Duane.

73

“Here he comes,” said Big Steve.