jg.thefirm-第55节

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　　3〃I　said　we'll　try；　but　we　can't　mit。　There's　no　legal；　formal；　legitimate　way　to　get　him　out；　so　we　must　try　other　means。　What　if　he　gets　shot　during　the　escape？〃
　　〃Just　get　him　out；　Tarrance。〃
　　〃We'll　try。〃
　　〃You'll　throw　the　power　and　resources　of　the　FBI　in　assisting　my　brother　in　escaping　from　prison；　right；　Tarrance？〃
　　〃You　have　my　word。〃
　　Mitch　sat　back　in　his　chair　and　took　a　long　sip　of　his　drink。　Now　the　deal　was　final。　He　breathed　easier　and　smiled　in　the　direction　of　the　magnificent　Caribbean。
　　〃So　when　do　we　get　your　files？〃　Tarrance　asked。
　　〃Thought　you　didn't　want　them。　They're　too　clean；　remember？〃
　　〃We　want　the　files；　Mitch；　because　when　we　get　the　files；　then　we've　got　you。　You've　proved　yourself　when　you　hand　us　your　files；　your　license　to　practice　law；　so　to　speak。〃
　　〃Ten　to　fifteen　days。〃
　　〃How　many　files？〃
　　〃Between　forty　and　fifty。　The　small　ones　are　an　inch　thick。　The　big　ones　wouldn't　fit　on　this　table。　I　can't　use　the　copiers　around　the　office；　so　we've　had　to　make　other　arrangements。〃
　　〃Perhaps　we　could　assist　in　the　copying；〃　said　Acklin。
　　〃Perhaps　not。　Perhaps　if　I　need　your　help；　perhaps　I'll　ask　for　it。〃
　　〃How　do　you　propose　to　get　them　to　us？〃　Tarrance　asked。　Acklin　withdrew　again。
　　〃Very　simple；　Wayne。　When　I've　copied　them　all；　and　once　I　get　the　million　where　I　want　it；　then　I'll　hand　you　a　key　to　a　certain　little　room　in　the　Memphis　area；　and　you　can　get　them　in　your　pickup。〃
　　〃I　told　you　we'd　deposit　the　money　in　a　Swiss　bank　account；〃　Tarrance　said。
　　〃And　now　I　don't　want　it　in　a　Swiss　bank　account；　okay？　I'll　dictate　the　terms　of　the　transfer；　and　it'll　be　done　exactly　as　I　say。　It's　my　neck　on　the　line　from　now　on；　boys；　so　I　call　the　shots。　Most　of　them；　anyway。〃
　　Tarrance　smiled　and　grunted　and　stared　at　the　pier。　〃So　YOU　don't　trust　the　Swiss？〃
　　…　〃Let's　just　say　I　have　another　bank　in　mind。　I　work　for　money　launderers；　remember；　Wayne；　so　I've　bee　an　expert　on　hiding　money　in　offshore　accounts。〃
　　〃We'll　see。〃
　　〃When　do　I　see　this　notebook　on　the　Moroltos？〃
　　〃After　we　get　your　files　and　pay　our　first　installment。　We'll　brief　you　as　much　as　we　can；　but　for　the　most　part　you're　on　your　own。　You　and　I　will　need　to　meet　a　lot；　and　of　course　that'll　be　rather　dangerous。　May　have　to　take　a　few　bus　rides。〃
　　〃Okay；　but　the　next　time　I　get　the　aisle　seat。〃
　　〃Sure；　sure。　Anybody　worth　two　million　can　surely　pick　his　seat　on　a　Greyhound。〃
　　〃I'll　never　live　to　enjoy　it；　Wayne。　You　know　I　won't。〃
　　Three　miles　out　of　Georgetown；　on　the　narrow　and　winding　road　to　Sodden　Town；　Mitch　saw　him。　The　man　was　squatting　behind　an　old　Volkswagen　Beetle　with　the　hood　up　as　if　engine　trouble　had　stopped　him。　The　man　was　dressed　like　a　native；　without　tourist　clothes。　He　could　easily　pass　for　one　of　the　Brits　who　worked　for　the　government　or　the　banks。　He　was　well　tanned。　The　man　held　a　wrench　of　some　sort　and　appeared　to　study　it　and　watch　the　Mitsubishi　jeep　as　it　roared　by　on　the　left…hand　side　of　the　road。　The　man　was　the　Nordic。　He　was　supposed　to　have　gone　unnoticed。
　　Mitch　instinctively　slowed　to　thirty　miles　per　hour；　to　wait　for　him。　Abby　turned　and　watched　the　road。　The　narrow　highway　to　Bodden　Town　clung　to　the　shoreline　for　five　miles；　then　forked；　and　the　ocean　disappeared。　Within　minutes　the　Nordic's　green　VW　came　racing　around　a　slight　bend。　The　McDeere　jeep　was　much　closer　than　the　Nordic　anticipated。　Being　seen；　he　abruptly　slowed；　then　turned　into　the　first　white…rock　driveway　on　the　ocean　side。
　　Mitch　gunned　the　jeep　and　sped　to　Bodden　Town。　West　o　the　small　settlement　he　turned　south　and　less　than　a　mile　later　found　the　ocean。
　　It　was　10　A。M。　and　the　parking　lot　of　Abanks　Dive　Lodge　was　half　full。　The　two　morning　dive　boats　had　left　thirty　minutes　earlier。　The　McDeeres　walked　quickly　to　the　bar；　where　Henry　was　already　shuffling　beer　and　cigarettes　to　the　domino　players。
　　Barry　Abanks　leaned　on　a　post　supporting　the　thatched　roof　of　the　bar　and　watched　as　his　two　dive　boats　disappeared　around　the　corner　of　the　island。　Each　would　make　two　dives；　at　places　like　Bonnie's　Arch；　Devil's　Grotto；　Eden　Rock　and　Roger's　Wreck　Point；　places　he　had　dived　and　toured　and　guided　through　a　thousand　times。　Some　of　the　places　he　had　discovered　himself。
　　The　McDeeres　approached；　and　Mitch　quietly　introduced　his　wife　to　Mr。　Abanks；　who　was　not　polite　but　not　rude。　They　started　for　the　small　pier；　where　a　deckhand　was　preparing　a　thirty…foot　fishing　boat；　Abanks　unloaded　an　indecipherable　string　of　mands　in　the　general　direction　of　the　young　deckhand；　who　was　either　deaf　or　unafraid　of　his　boss。
　　Mitch　stood　next　to　Abanks；　the　captain　now；　and　pointed　to　the　bar　fifty　yards　away　down　the　pier。　〃Do　you　know　all　those　people　at　the　bar？〃　he　asked。
　　Abanks　frowned　at　Mitch。
　　　〃They　tried　to　follow　me　here。　Just　curious；〃　Mitch　said。　〃The　usual　gang；〃　Abanks　said。　〃No　strangers。〃
　　〃Have　you　noticed　any　strangers　around　this　morning？〃
　　〃Look；　this　place　attracts　strange　people。　I　keep　no　ledger　of　the　strange　ones　and　the　normal　ones。〃
　　〃Have　you　seen　a　fat　American；　red　hair；　at　least　three　hundred　pounds？〃
　　Abanks　shook　his　head。　The　deckhand　eased　the　boat　；uckward；　away　from　the　pier；　then　toward　the　horizon。　Abby　sat　on　a　small　padded　bench　and　watched　the　dive　lodge　disappear。　In　a　vinyl　bag　between　her　feet　were　two　new　sets　of　snorkeling　fins　and　dive　masks。　It　was　ostensibly　a　snorkeling　trip　with　maybe　a　little　light　fishing　if　they　were　biting。　The　great　man　himself　had　agreed　to　acpany　them；　but　only　after　Mitch　insisted　and　told　him　they　needed　to　discuss　personal　matters。　Private　matters；　regarding　the　death　of　his　son。
　　From　a　screened　balcony　on　the　second　floor　of　a　Cayman　Kai　beach　house；　the　Nordic　watched　the　two　snorkeled　heads　bob　and　disappear　around　the　fishing　boat。　He　handed　the　binoculars　to　Two…Ton　Tony　Verkler；　who；　quickly　bored；　handed　them　back。　A　striking　blonde　in　a　black　one…piece　with　legs　cut　high；　almost　to　the　rib　cage；　stood　behind　the　Nordic　and　took　the　binoculars。　Of　particular　interest　was　the　deckhand。
　　Tony　spoke。　〃I　don't　understand。　If　they　were　talking　serious；　why　the　boy？　Why　have　another　set　of　ears　around？〃
　　〃Perhaps　they're　talking　about　snorkeling　and　fishing；〃　said　the　Nordic。
　　〃I　don't　know；〃　said　the　blonde。　〃It's　unusual　for　Abanks　to　spend　time　on　a　fishing　boat。　He　likes　the　divers。　There　must　be　a　good　reason　for　him　to　waste　a　day　with　two　novice　snorkelers。　Something's　up。〃
　　〃Who's　the　boy？〃　asked　Tony。
　　〃Just　one　of　the　gofers；〃　she　said。　〃He's　got　a　dozen。〃
　　〃Can　you　talk　to　him　later？〃　asked　the　Nordic。
　　〃Yeah；〃　said　Tony。　〃Show　him　some　skin；　snort　some　candy。　He'll　talk。〃
　　〃I'll　try；〃　she　said。
　　〃What's　his　name？〃　asked　the　Nordic。
　　〃Keith　Rook。〃
　　Keith　Rook　maneuvered　the　boat　alongside　the　pier　at　Rum　Point。　Mitch；　Abby　and　Abanks　climbed　from　the　boat　and　headed　for　the　beach。　Keith　was　not　invited　to　lunch。　He　stayed　behind　and　lazily　washed　the　deck。
　　The　Shipwreck　Bar　sat　inland　a　hundred　yards　under　a　heavy　cover　of　rare　shade　trees。　It　was　dark　and　damp　with　screened　windows　and　squeaky　ceiling　fans。　There　was　no　reggae；　dominoes；　or　dartboard。　The　noon　crowd　was　quiet　with　each　table　engrossed　in　its　own　private　talk。
　　The　view　from　their　table　was　out　to　sea；　to　the　north。　They　ordered　cheeseburgers　and　beer…island　food。
　　〃This　bar　is　different；〃　Mitch　observed　quietly。
　　〃Very　much　so；〃　said　Abanks。　〃And　with　good　reason。　It's　a　hangout　for　drug　dealers　who　own　many　of　the　nice　homes　and　condos　around　here。　They　fly　in　on　their　private　jets；　deposit　their　money　in　our　many　fine　banks　and　spend　a　few　days　around　here　checking　their　real　estate。〃
　　〃Nice　neighborhood。〃
　　〃Very　nice；　really。　They　have　millions　and　they　keep　to　themselves。〃
　　The　waitress；　a　husky；　well…mixed　mulatto；　dropped　three　bottles　of　Jamaican　Red　Stripe　on　the　table　without　saying　a　word。　Abanks　leaned　forward　on　his　elbows　with　his　head　lowered；　the　customary　manner　of　speaking　in　the　Shipwreck　Bar。　〃So　you　think　you　can　walk　away？〃　he　said。
　　Mitch　and　Abby　leaned　forward　in　unison；　and　all　three　heads　met　low　in　the　center　of　the　table；　just　over　the　beer。　〃Not　walk；　but　run。　Run　like　hell；　but　I'll　get　away。　And　I'll　need　your　help。〃
　　He　thought　about　this　for　a　moment　and　raised　his　head。　He　shrugged。　〃But　what　am　I　to　do？〃　He　took　the　first　sip　of　his　Red　Stripe。
　　Abby　saw　her　first；　and　it　would　take　a　woman　to　spot　another　woman　straining　ever　so　elegantly　to　eavesdrop　on　their　little　conversation。　Her　back　was　to　Abanks。　She　was　a　solid　blonde　partially　hidden　under　cheap　black　rubber　sunglasses　that　covered　most　of　her　face；　and　she　had　been　watching　the　ocean　and　listening　a　bit　too　hard。　When　the　three　of　them　leaned　over；　she　sat　up　straight　and　listened　like　hell。　She　was　by　herself　at　a　table　for　two。
　　Abby　dug　her　fingernails　into　her　husband's　leg；　and　their　table　became　quiet。　The　blonde　in　black　listened；　then　turned　to　her　table　and　her　drink。
　　Wayne　Tarrance　had　improved　his　wardrobe　by　Friday　of　Cayman　Week。　Gone