John Locke - Lethal Experiment

“In three months it’ll be Thanksgiving,” Darwin said, “One of the busiest times of the year.”

“So?”

“If the terrorists get a driver into the Park ‘N Fly trucks, they can load them up with explosives and crash them right into baggage claim.”

“What can I do?”

“Get close to her, find out what she knows.”

“You want me to sleep with her,” I said, trying to sound indignant.

“Sleep with her, torture her, what do I care?”

“What if she doesn’t know anything about it?”

“That’s my guess, by the way,” Darwin said. “And if that’s the case, you can hang out with her and keep your eyes open, because sooner or later, someone’s going to make a move.”

“I’m not going to be able to shadow her. Not after she’s met me.”

“Creed, you’re missing the point. I believe she’s already being shadowed. If they see her getting close to you, they’re going to come after you.”

“So I’m the bait.”

“If Alison doesn’t know anything, then yes, you’re the bait.”

“So who’s going to come to my rescue when the bad guys strike?”

“That’s up to you. Maybe you can call your midget army, hide them under your bed.”

“Little people,” I said.

“Whatever. The bottom line is, if you need backup, make the phone calls.”

“Fine,” I said. “What’s my cover story?”

“Jewelry salesman.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. So dress sharp and wear some expensive jewelry.”

“I don’t own any.”

Darwin paused a moment, trying to decide if what I’d said could possibly be true.

“You’re hopeless,” he said. He sighed. “I’ll have something appropriate waiting for you in a box on the Lear jet. And Creed—”

“Yeah?”

“I want it back.”

I said nothing, choosing to ignore the implication that I might steal his jewelry. A lesser man might feel compelled to point out specific examples to certify his unparalleled honesty. But I’m a bigger man than that. Plus, Darwin might think to remind me that I was still living off the millions of dollars I’d stolen from Joe DeMeo, after having killed most of his crew.

“A jewelry salesman,” I said, again, trying to make my voice sound as skeptical as possible.

Darwin jumped to defend his decision: “Pun notwithstanding, this jewelry salesman cover is pure gold. I’ve had a team on Alison two full days, which means I know more about her than her own mother. Trust me, Creed: you tell her you’ve got jewelry in your overnight bag and she’ll be all over you like Octo-Mom in a sperm bank.”

“That’s a nice visual.”

We hung up and I made a quick call before rejoining my slightly miffed girlfriend. I gave her my best stuff and managed to salvage the evening—until I explained I had to take her home and repack my bags and fly to Denver.

I slept on the Learjet and got to Denver in plenty of time to catch Alison’s flight. We chatted all the way to Dallas, landed, got our luggage, and caught the shuttle to the Marriott.

Inside the lobby, the guest registration line moved quickly between two velvet ropes. After Alison checked in she motioned me to join her at the front desk. I did so, trying to guess what she was hoping to learn by watching me check in. Did she want to see if my legal name was really Cosmo Burlap? Did she want to see what type of credit card I’d use to secure the bill? Could she possibly be waiting to find out my room number so she could call or visit me later? Maybe she was just being polite. I asked the clerk to give me the room adjoining Alison’s.

She looked at Alison and said, “Is that okay with you, Miss?”

“Oh, Gawd, yes!” Alison purred, displaying not the slightest trace of embarrassment. To me, she said: “This handsome jewelry salesman just made my day!”

As we rode the elevator to our rooms I said, “I’ve got to make a few calls. You want to get together in an hour, have some dinner?”

She said, “That sounds great. I’ll freshen up. Just knock on the door whenever you’re ready.”

Dinner with Alison had to be someplace other than the Marriott because of the terrifying man in the lobby she thought was staring at her. We hustled past the scary man and caught a cab to I Fratelli’s.

Though I like Italian food, I generally prefer a more upscale dining experience. Still, this family-friendly restaurant was good food at great prices. Their wine tasting highlighted a wide selection of Italian coastal varietals. That, along with flatbread and antipasto would have made a meal for me, but I kicked in for their specialty, a large, hand-made, thin-crust pepperoni pizza, which I shared with Alison.

As often happens on a first date that’s going well, our conversation focused on a wide range of safe subjects, and only a couple of suggestive ones, such as the loneliness of road travel, which she mentioned several times. Since we were eating finger food, there wasn’t much physical contact during dinner. But there was no question where I stood: between her sultry facial expressions, winks and sensual lip licking, Alison was throwing more signals at me than a third base coach in the bottom of the ninth.

In other words, Darwin had nailed her on the cover story.

For a dedicated auditor, Alison possessed a surprising tolerance for liquor. In addition to three glasses of wine, she polished off one of her trademark cosmopolitans and was deep into her second when her face suddenly turned white.

“There he is again!” she whispered.

I started to turn, but she grabbed my arm. “Don’t look!” she said.

“Who are we talking about?”

“The big, creepy guy from the hotel lobby.”

I took a minute to process. “The one that scared you? Are you sure?”

“Yes!” she whispered. “I just saw him through the window.”

“Maybe it was the lighting or a reflection off the glass.”

“Cosmo, I swear it was him.” She was visibly frightened. Shaking. She tightened her grip on my arm. “Thank God you’re here,” she said.

“What do you think he’s up to?”

“I think he’s following us.”

Chapter 28

Igot the waiter’s attention, gave him a credit card and asked I him to call us a cab. I stood and said, “I’m going to check out front, make sure he’s gone.”

Alison said, “Please don’t go out there. You might get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just have a quick look around.”

“Wait,” she said. “Log in my cell phone number. If something happens, just press send.”

She gave me her number and I punched it into my phone. Then I went out the front door and circled the restaurant, looking for darkened areas where a big guy might be able to hide. When I turned the second corner I found myself face to face with him. He pointed a finger at my face with his thumb up, as if it were a gun. He let the thumb fall. “Bang,” he said.

The horrifically deformed giant had indeed been following us, just as I’d asked him to do when I called him from The Spotted Pig after talking to Darwin.

His job was to meet us in Dallas, follow us around and scare the shit out of Alison. His name is Augustus Quinn, and, like Callie, he’s an integral part of my team, which is to say, he knows where most of the bodies are buried.

Literally.

“She hasn’t mentioned Afaya,” I said. “Then again, I wouldn’t expect her to.”

“Doesn’t matter. Darwin was right about her.”

“In what way?”

“She’s robbing you.”

“No shit?”

He chuckled. “After you guys left I used the key you put in the planter, got your suitcase like we planned. I took it down the hall to my room—I’m in three twenty-six by the way—and when I came out I saw two guys enter your room.”

“With a key?”

He nodded.

“Must have worked a deal with the girl at the front desk.”

“Bellman,” Quinn said.

“You sure?”

“Positive. I went back to the lobby and waited for them. They got off the elevator and went straight to the bell desk and had a loud argument with the bellman. There was enough arm waving for me to spot a prison tat on one of the guys trying to rob you.”

We were quiet a moment.

“You sure Alison’s in on it?” I said.

“Otherwise, why would the bellman think you had something in the suitcase worth stealing?”

“So she flirts me into a dinner date, calls the bellman, he calls the thugs.”

“That’s my guess,” Quinn said.

“Seems pretty risky for an auditor.”

“Auditors look at other people’s money all day long,” Quinn said.

“Good point.”

“Be interesting to see how she plays it tonight,” he said, “when she finds out the robbery was a bust.”

“You think she won’t be able to let it go?”

“Exactly what I’m thinking.”

“So you think the plan will work?”

Augustus Quinn nodded. “Only I think we’ll catch convicts instead of terrorists.”

“Maybe the convicts and terrorists are connected.”

“One way to find out.”

“I better get back,” I said. “Make sure you beat us back to the hotel.”

“Give me a five-minute head start,” he said.

Chapter 29

Back in the restaurant Alison seemed frantic.

“Thank God you’re okay!” she said. “I was so worried about you!”

I had to admit, she was a natural con artist. But I also had to agree with Quinn: the true test would come later that night, when she had to cobble together a Plan B. At the time I was thinking if she could pull it off convincingly, I’d probably offer her a job when this whole thing was over.

“Did you see him?” she said.

“I did. But he ran away.”

“You think he’ll come back to the hotel?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it.”

The cab came and we got in and rode quietly to the hotel. I asked if she wanted to grab a coffee before going up to the room and she declined. As we walked through the lobby I watched her carefully to see if she made eye contact with the bellman. She did not. Again, I thought, very impressive. A natural.

We got to the elevators and I pressed the button. “So,” I said, “you want to raid my mini bar, maybe have a glass of wine?”

She smiled. “What a lovely offer,” she said. “But it’s been a long day. I think I’ll turn in early. Can I get a rain check on the nightcap?”

“Any time,” I said.

The elevator doors opened. She gave me her best little-girl-lost look and said, “Will you walk me to my room?”

I bowed. “It would be an honor,” I said.

“Cosmo Burlap—my knight in shining armor!”

She let me kiss her on the cheek before retiring. I slid the key card into the lock on my room, entered, and went straight for the mini bar.

“Already poured you a wine,” Quinn whispered, gesturing to the two glasses on the table.

“Thanks,” I whispered back. “But you know the rules.” I opened the mini bar and rummaged around for another bottle of wine.

“They only had the one bottle,” he said. Then he sighed and added, “How long have we known each other?”

“Not the point,” I said.

“Sooner or later you’re going to have to break down and trust someone.”

“Maybe so,” I said, “but not today.”

“Fine,” Quinn said. He took a sip from each glass and waited for me to select one. Quinn watched with amusement as I waited a full five minutes before picking up one of the glasses. Finally, I took a sip.

“Marriott stocks a good house wine,” I said.