Authors: P. R. Garlick
"What could they remind you of?" He frowned, approaching
her. "I know you want to help Jack, but M.C., you'll have to face the
fact that you're no longer needed."
She turned away, nearly falling over a box sitting beside the
secretary's desk. When she looked down into its center she saw a
picture in a gold frame. "What's this stuff?"
"The secretary's things," he replied. "The office is being
cleared out now that the police are finished with their end of the
investigation. They've gone through everything for clues."
"When is she coming back for them?" Liane bent down and
picked up the picture, then looked up at her companion.
"I don't know. Why?"
"Because I've seen this man." She stood holding the picture.
"And it seems strange to find it here among her belongings."
"Where have you seen him?" Marsh asked, taking it from her
to look at it more closely.
"No. I'm not telling . . .unless you let me help!" She looked
smugly back at the man she had grown to love. "We've come this far
together. Why not see it through?"
"Damn you make me so angry!" He grabbed her arm, then
suddenly smiled. "But as long as I have my lucky jacket to protect
me, what else can happen?"
"Protect you!" She snapped, looking up into his eyes, noting
the humor there. "From me, I suppose."
"Yeah, especially from you." His smile faded. "Now tell me
where you saw him."
"He's a bartender at the
Calypso Club
."
"A bartender . . .? It doesn't fit." Marsh rubbed his beard.
"Somehow he and Devereaux's secretary must be tied together in
this." He reached for the phone. "I have to check something."
When he hung up, he was frowning. "No one has been able to
reach the secretary. And it seems our man does work at the club. It's
beginning to sound as if they were working their own scam. I told our
men to watch out for him."
"I thought you'd have closed down that club by now."
"We will . . .as soon as we prove there's a connection with the
weapons. As it is, we only have the men in the semi who made the
delivery. We have to prove the transaction was done with the
knowledge of the owner of the club."
"But I was given my instructions right up there on the stage."
Marsh frowned. "Yes, and can you identify who gave them to
you?"
"Oh . . .I see." Her shoulders sagged. "Now what? If they
know things didn't go according to plan, and we go waltzing in there
asking a bunch of questions, we won't find out anything."
"Patience," Marsh said. "I also left instructions with my men
for a phone tap."
"Isn't that illegal?" she started, then laughed. "Never mind. I
think I'm finally beginning to see that to win, you have to fight some
things on their level."
"Meanwhile, let's take a closer look at the stuff in this box and
see what we can find," Marsh suggested as he picked the box up from
the floor. "Who knows what else she'll have in here."
"What would this man have hoped to gain by taking Jack?"
Liane asked. "I mean, there hasn't been a ransom note or anything.
Has there?"
"Maybe there was one," Marsh said as though a thought had
just occurred to him. "They knew something was going down, and
that there was a double cross. It could be that they seized the
opportunity without planning their next move."
"In that case, by now, they may regret what they did because it
hasn't worked out," Liane said. "Wouldn't that be good? Maybe
they'll give up."
"No, it could be bad. They won't need Jack anymore," Marsh
said. "But then again, if all this wasn't planned very well in the first
place, we stand a better chance of breaking it."
Liane shook her head. "I give up trying to figure out the
criminal mind. That's your job."
Before they could continue, Marsh's cell phone rang. Marsh
answered it, saying very little before hanging up again. "Our fellow is
at the club right now."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going there," Marsh said suddenly. "Maybe they'll want
to deal if they know there's still someone is willing to pay to get Jack
back."
"Marsh, it would be more believable if it were me? I'm Jack's
sister. They must know I already tried to get him back once."
"So did I."
"Yes, but they've probably also figured out it was you who
tipped the Feds."
Marsh frowned. "You're beginning to sound like you're
getting into this stuff. Remember, it's dangerous work. You'd be
better off sticking with your present line."
"I have every intention of getting out of this once I find my
brother. But for now, I think you see that I'm right. It should be me
who goes there to make a deal."
He nodded. "Yeah, okay. But in and out again. That's it!
You're only going there to let him know you're willing to deal. Give
him your number, then get out. Hopefully he'll call the secretary, or
whoever else is working with them, and we can trace the call. Or
better yet, maybe he'll lead us to where they're keeping Jack."
"Okay, in and out," she repeated as she started for the door.
"But you remember one thing. You better not muff anything. The
sooner we get this solved, and Jack back, the sooner you'll be rid of
me for good!" Without another word she left him alone.
I
Liane sat at the bar and ordered herself a drink. She made sure
the tall bartender had noticed the way she looked nervously around the
room.
"Are you waiting for someone, Miss?" he finally asked, his
grey eyes staring intently into her face.
"To be honest, I don't know," she said with a long impatient
sigh. "It's all such a long story."
"Bartenders are good at listening to long stories," he said with
a friendly smile, leaning forward on the bar to show his interest.
"It all started back in New York." She hesitated a moment for
effect, brushing her long blonde hair away from her face. "You see
my sister, she's a nun. Her name is Mary Catherine. Anyway she was
worried about our brother, Jack Spencer. I'm Liane Spencer, by the
way." She gave her real name, then continued.
The man listened with interest as she told the truth of her
search for her brother.
"Then wouldn't you know it, after all the stuff I go through to
find Jack, the Feds go and blow it! They got all the guns and
everything. So I figured, I still have the money my brother sent for
safe keeping. I also know where all those missing crates of gold and
silver statues are hidden. Maybe I can work out a deal of my own.
"What can I lose? I only want my brother back." She looked
at the bartender, her green eyes bright with tears. "Do you know what
I mean?"
"Sure I do." His steel-gray eyes lit with interest.
"I overheard the government agents saying they still didn't
have enough to close this club. But they'll keep trying. I figured I'd
try to go right to the boss, this Mr. Demotto, or whatever his name is,
and try to make a deal with him to get my brother back."
"I see. But you weren't going to try and see him by yourself,
were you?" the bartender asked.
"Of course I was. It's my only hope. Who knows how long
before the Feds figure out I know where that stuff is?"
"He won't see you. After all that's happened, he's unlikely to
see anyone he doesn't know."
"Then what shall I do? I want to save my brother."
"Tell you what I'll do," the bartender scratched his dark head,
as if giving some thought to his next words. "I'll talk to the boss for
you. Then I'll be in touch."
"You would do that? Thank you." She smiled at the dark-haired man. "I'll go and call my sister in New York and let her know
that we may have a deal."
"Your sister?" His eyes narrowed.
"Yes. You see, we figured it wouldn't be very good for me to
come out here and end up with someone making a fool out of me.
They could make me tell them where the things are hidden, and not
release our brother. So after I left, she moved everything from where
it was hidden. She put it in storage, and I don't know where.
"All I have is a number to reach her. When I call and tell her
that I've seen Jack and he's safe, she'll send a sample shipment. Then
when I call again to tell her he's been released and safely with me,
she'll send the rest of the money and give the location of the artifacts."
"I can see you're both very shrewd."
"It was necessary. After all, a girl could be taken advantage of
in a strange place, doing business with people she doesn't know."
"I'll see what I can do," he assured her. "Now, how about a
number where I can reach you?"
"Sure." She smiled and gave him her number at the hotel
where she had a room.
I
Liane hurried straight back to the hotel, wanting to call Marsh
as soon as she got safely inside. But when she opened the door she
found him waiting for her there.
"How did it go?" he asked.
"I think he believed me." She sighed and threw herself onto
the bed. "At least he should have. I told him the truth. At least, it
was the most truthful I've been in the last couple of weeks."
"What do you mean?" Marsh stared down at her as he came
closer to the side of the bed. "What did you say to him?"
Before she could word her reply the telephone rang. It was the
bartender, and he was ready to do business.
"Stall him," Marsh said. "Nothing before tonight."
"When does your boss want to see me?"
"He doesn't," the man replied. "There's been a slight change.
You'll be dealing with me."
"You . . .? You mean
you
have Jack?" she asked in mock
surprise.