“Where is the shop?”
“In the main building, but she is not there no more.”
“Where is she?”
“I am seeing her getting into black BMW for her dinner date.”
“Do you know where she is dining?”
“Yes, she is asking me about restaurant.”
“Which restaurant?”
“La Fonda.”
“Do you know the address?”
“Not exactly address. It is on the beach outside town.”
“What road?”
“The big main road; I forget the number.”
“Never mind; it doesn’t matter.” He would wait for her in her cottage.
“I am sorry. I have been to this restaurant once before. It is best in Tijuana.”
“La Fonda is in Tijuana?”
“Yes, on the road from Tijuana, on the beach. Is easy to find.”
That put a whole new light on things. “Thank you, Birgit.”
“We are having dinner, Vittorio?”
He thought about it. Why not? “You want to go to La Fonda?”
“Oh, yes.”
“How soon can you be ready?”
“Thirty minutes?”
That would give them time to settle down at the restaurant before he arrived. “I’ll meet you out front in half an hour.”
V
ITTORIO HAD TWO PHONE CALLS
to make. First, he called the Bel-Air and asked for Ed Eagle.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Eagle, it’s Vittorio.”
“Yes, Vittorio?”
“I know where Barbara is, or at least, where she’ll be a little later this evening.”
“Tell me, and I’ll call the police.”
“I’m afraid that won’t help.”
“Why not?”
“She’s staying at La Jolla again, but she’s gone to Tijuana for dinner. I’m headed down there; do you want to be there when I confront her?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You have an airplane, don’t you?”
“Yes. The flight is less than an hour.”
“She’ll be at a restaurant called La Fonda. It’s on the beach, west of the city. Any cabdriver should know it. I’ll be outside.”
“See you there.” Eagle hung up, and Vittorio began getting into his resort clothes.
Then he made his second phone call.
Fifty-six
E
AGLE GRABBED A JACKET AND A FILE CONTAINING MORE
copies of the divorce settlement. He walked into the bathroom, where Susannah was putting on her makeup.
“I’m sorry, but I have to fly to Tijuana. It’s to do with Barbara, and I hope we can wrap this up tonight. Do you mind dining alone?”
“Not at all,” she replied. “You go ahead. Will you be back tonight?”
“Yes,” he replied, “with any luck at all.”
E
AGLE PICKED UP
the phone and called Cupie Dalton.
“Hello?”
“Cupie, it’s Ed Eagle.”
“Good evening.”
“I have to fly to Tijuana right now to get the divorce settlement papers signed. Will you come with me for support?”
“Sure.”
“How soon can you be at Supermarine, at Santa Monica Airport?”
“Ten minutes.”
“See you there.” He hung up and headed for the parking lot. From the car Eagle phoned Supermarine and asked that his airplane be ready, then he called Flight Services and filed an international flight plan for Tijuana. His insurance policy already covered flights to Mexico. Then he made one more phone call. Half an hour later, he and Cupie were in the air.
V
ITTORIO AND BIRGIT LEFT
La Reserve and headed south toward the border. Vittorio’s mind was racing, thinking ahead, trying to plan. Barbara was a very slippery lady, and he was determined to keep her from slipping through his fingers this time. Birgit sat quietly beside him.
At the border he chatted briefly with the guards, then was allowed to drive through. He had not wanted to cross the border armed, so he had not brought a weapon.
B
ARBARA AND JIMMY
were shown to a table on the upstairs terrace, facing the sea. They sat down, ordered margaritas and gazed at the remnants of the sunset over the Pacific.
“So,” Jimmy said, “what are your plans, now that you’re divorced?”
“I’m not exactly divorced yet,” she said. “But soon.”
“Say, did you see the news on TV about the murders at the Bel-Air last night?”
“No, I haven’t looked at a TV all day,” she lied. “Who was murdered?”
“The police hadn’t released a name when I saw the report, but there were shots of two corpses being wheeled out of the hotel. Jesus, we were just there last evening!”
Barbara smiled. “What I remember about last evening was a lovely dinner and the best night I ever spent in bed,” she said. “I’ll never forget it.”
“Neither will I,” Jimmy replied. “Not any detail.” He raised his glass. “Let’s drink to that.”
They touched glasses. Barbara’s mind raced ahead. She’d stay at La Reserve for another week or two, then she’d call the insurance company, get the forms signed and claim four million dollars in insurance money. Once that was in the bank, she’d take the copy of Eagle’s will in her bag to Santa Fe and file for probate. She doubted very much if he’d bothered to change it yet. Then she’d move in to Eagle’s house, throw out the furniture and start over. She’d always loved Santa Fe, and now she could settle down there on her own terms. Even if he had changed his will, she could fight it. After all, as his undivorced widow, she was entitled to a big chunk of his estate.
V
ITTORIO,
following Birgit’s instructions, drove west from Tijuana, then along the coast road. A mile or two further, the restaurant appeared, a large building on the beach.
“Tell me the layout of the place,” he said to Brigit.
“The bar is being downstairs, and the dining room is being upstairs. There’s a balcony to overlook the sea. I suggest to Barbara this is the best place for tables.”
As Vittorio pulled up in front of the restaurant, his cell phone vibrated.
“Hello?”
“It’s Eagle; I’m leaving the airport in a cab now, and Cupie Dalton is with me. Where are you?”
“I’ve just arrived at the restaurant,” Vittorio replied.
“Don’t go in until I get there,” Eagle said. “The driver says it will be less than twenty minutes.”
“As you wish, Mr. Eagle.” Vittorio hung up.
“Who was this?” Birgit asked.
“My client.”
“What is the work you do?”
“I’m a private investigator, and I’m working for Barbara’s husband. She stole some money from him and tried to have him killed.”
“I don’t believe this,” Birgit said.
“Birgit, last night, Barbara went to the Hotel Bel-Air in Los Angeles and murdered two people in the suite next door to her husband, thinking she was killing him.”
Birgit looked shocked.
“She’s also wanted by the police in Mexico for cutting off a man’s penis.”
Birgit’s jaw had dropped now. “A perfectly good penis?”
“A perfectly good penis.”
“Is a waste.”
“Well, yes.”
“What will you do here? You will kill Barbara? I don’t want this.”
“No, I will not kill her. I don’t even have a gun.” He showed her the file folder. “I will just get her to sign these documents, then I will be done with her, and we can have a good dinner.”
“This is all?”
“I promise you, I will not harm her.”
“Why are we not going inside, then?”
“I’m waiting for Ed Eagle, her husband, to arrive. He will be here shortly, and five minutes after that, it will all be over.”
“You are promising?”
“I am promising.”
Vittorio looked around but didn’t see anyone else. There should be people here. He punched a number into his cell phone.
“Sí?”
“This is Vittorio. I am at the restaurant; where are you?”
“Coming to Tijuana now. I will be thirty minutes, I think.”
“When you arrive, wait in her car. I don’t want to make a scene inside, and it will be best to take her when she leaves the restaurant.”
“As you wish, Vittorio.”
Vittorio hung up.
“And who was that?” Birgit asked.
“A friend,” Vittorio replied.
Fifty-seven
E
AGLE’S TAXI PULLED UP IN FRONT OF THE RESTAURANT,
and he and Cupie got out. Vittorio got out of a car and came toward them.
“Good evening, Mr. Eagle, Cupie,” Vittorio said, shaking their hands.
“Evening, Vittorio,” Eagle said. “What is the plan?”
Vittorio held up the file folder. “My plan is that I go in there and get Barbara to sign these papers, then we leave.”
Eagle was silent for a moment. “That sounds way too simple,” he said. “I brought Cupie for backup.”
“Thanks for coming, Cupie, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“I’m missing something here, Vittorio,” Cupie said. “We couldn’t get those papers signed when we had her for days. What makes you think she’s going to sign now?”
“If you will just leave this to me, I promise I’ll get her signature.”
“What’s plan B?” Cupie asked.
“Tell you what, Cupie,” Vittorio said. “If she doesn’t sign the papers, I’ll call you and Mr. Eagle, and you can have a shot at her when she leaves the restaurant.”
“There’s something you’re not telling us,” Eagle said.
“Yes, sir, there is,” Vittorio replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and walked toward the restaurant, taking note of a black BMW with California plates.
Vittorio entered the building and, from the doorway, had a good look around the bar. He wanted surprise to be on his side.
A headwaiter approached. “May I help you, sir?”
“I’d like a table for two in about ten minutes, if that’s possible.”
“I’m afraid we’re fully booked in the dining room,” the man said, “but we can accommodate you in the bar.”
“That will be fine,” Vittorio said. “Do you mind if I have a look at the dining room? I’ve heard a lot about it, and I’d like to see it for myself.”
“Of course, sir,” the headwaiter said. “May I have your name?”
“Vittorio. My guest, a lady, will be arriving shortly.”
The headwaiter noted the name in his book. “Please have a look around, Mr. Vittorio.”
Vittorio walked up the stairs, and after a moment, as he neared the top, he stopped, with only his head above the railing, and surveyed the dining room.
It was a large room with perhaps fifty or sixty tables, stone walls, wide plank floors and a pianist playing a Spanish song. Half the tables were on the terrace Birgit had described. Vittorio surveyed the room, but did not spot Barbara at first, so he began a table-by-table viewing, starting with the indoor tables. Still no Barbara.
He began checking the tables on the terrace, and that was harder, since all the people were facing the sea, with their backs to him. Still no Barbara. He walked up the remaining steps and looked again, then he began making his way through the tables toward the terrace. He had now viewed all the tables twice, and he had not seen anyone who even resembled Barbara.
T
HEN, AS HE WATCHED,
a blond woman in a red suit, carrying a large handbag, got up from a table at the edge of the terrace and began making her way toward the rear of the room, probably to the ladies’. Her face wasn’t clearly visible, but the handbag and the suit were familiar, and bells were clanging in Vittorio’s brain.
Then the full realization hit him: she was the woman who had entered the Bel-Air bar the night before, when he and Eagle were meeting there. She had walked right past them, coming and going, and they had both admired her. And the handbag was Barbara’s. She had changed her appearance and fooled them both, and that was how she had known Eagle was at the Bel-Air.
Vittorio turned and followed her, at a distance, toward the restrooms. As he approached the ladies’ room, the door opened and a woman left the room. As the door swung shut, Vittorio caught sight of Barbara, standing at the restroom sink, checking her makeup in the mirror. Then, just before the door closed, her eyes locked on his, and shock flooded her face.
As Vittorio reached for the door he heard the lock turn. “Shit,” he muttered to himself. Then, as he knocked on the door, two closely spaced holes appeared in it, and he felt a tug at his jacket. He jumped aside. That had been two rounds from a silenced pistol, and one of them had nicked his clothing.
He jumped to one side of the door and leaned against the stone wall. “Barbara,” he called out, “listen to me very carefully.”
Another bullet hole appeared in the door, but he was well out of the way.
“If you fire another round, I’ll have the Mexican police break down the door and take you. We can avoid that, if you’ll listen.”
There was a long silence, then a muffled voice. “I’m listening, Vittorio.”
“I have some papers here. If you’ll sign them I’ll call off the police and be on my way.”
“What papers?”
“A divorce settlement, giving you three hundred thousand dollars and nothing else.”
“And what makes you think I would sign
that?
”
“You’ve no reason not to; Eagle has changed his will and changed the beneficiaries on his insurance policies. You would have to fight for everything in court, and you’d lose. If you don’t sign them, I’ll turn you over to the Mexican police. Remember the capitán from Puerto Vallarta? The uncle of the man you maimed? He’s waiting outside with two carloads of policemen.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“The only way for you to find out is to risk losing everything, maybe even your life. You’re never going to get another dime out of Eagle, and you’re not going to get out of this building without being arrested, unless I help you, so you may as well sign.”
There was a long silence. “Let me see the papers,” she said, finally.
“First, I want the gun. You can have it back when we’re done.” After a pause, he heard the door unlock. “Hand it out butt first,” he said. The door opened slightly, and the butt appeared; the slide was locked back and the weapon empty. He took it and pushed the door cautiously open.
She was standing, facing the door, her back to the mirror. It took him a moment to be sure it was really Barbara, but it was, indeed.
“Let me see the papers,” she said.