Mounting Fears

31

EL PARADOR WAS PERFECT, TEDDY THOUGHT; IT WOULD BE CROWDED BEFORE THEY finished dinner, and they would blend in. And it was near the canal. They dined on the terrace, which sported a view of both the Gulf of Panama, where ships at anchor waited their turn for the canal, and the canal itself.

"Wow!" Ned said, as a huge tanker slid slowly past them.

"Pretty impressive, huh? Shall I order for us?"

"Sure, go ahead, and a good bottle of wine, too. The Inquisitor can afford it."

Teddy ordered the house specialty and a fine bottle of Chilean cabernet.

"Okay," Ned said, sipping his wine, "now, tell me where you've seen this guy."

"First I want to know who he is and what you want with him," Teddy said. "I don't want to get anybody in trouble. Did he skip out on his wife or something?"

"Nah, nothing like that." Ned looked around to be sure he wouldn't be overheard. "Did you ever hear of a guy named Teddy Fay?"

"Yeah, I have, but I don't remember where."

"Ex-CIA guy, an assassin, killed some people."

"Wait a minute, now I know who you're talking about," Teddy said. "Didn't I read that he went down with a boat somewhere in the Caribbean earlier this year?"

"That's the story everybody bought, but I don't think so."

"And there weren't any photographs of him, either," Teddy said. "So where'd you get yours, and how do you know it's him?"

"A girl he used to go out with a while back," Ned said. "She took the picture when they were out sailing, then forgot about it. A couple of weeks ago she was down here on a cruise and saw him, but he didn't see her. Since she was on a ship she didn't know who to tell, so she waited until she got home, found the old film, and had it developed. She was going to call the FBI, but she's a regular reader, and she figured she might as well make some money out of it, so she called the paper and asked for Editorial and I answered the phone. And here I am."

"So you're down here to get the guy busted?"

"Nah, I want to interview him, not bust him. I mean, eventually, we'll call the FBI, and when they grab him, my story and the interview will be ready."

"That's pretty neat," Teddy said, "but first you've got to find the guy."

"That's where you come in," Ned said. "If you can point him out to me, it'll be worth ten grand of the Inquisitor's money."

"That's pretty inviting," Teddy said, grinning. "And when do I get the money?"

"It's in the safe at my hotel. You show me the guy, I'll talk to him, and we'll go back to the hotel for your money."

"Fair enough," Teddy said.

"Okay, where did you see him?"

"Right here, in this restaurant," Teddy replied.

Ned's eyes went left and right. "Holy shit! Is he here now?"

"He certainly is," Teddy said.

"Where?"

"You're looking at him."

Ned spilled his wine. Then he fished out the photo and compared it to Teddy. "Similar," he said.

"How about without the wig, the fake eyebrows, and the glasses?" Teddy said.

"That's a wig?"

"It certainly is." Teddy lifted a corner of the hairpiece, then stuck it back.

"I can't believe my luck," Ned said.

"I guess you're just a lucky guy."

"Wait a minute. Tell me the name of the girl who took the photo."

"Darlene Cole," Teddy said without hesitation.

"Son of a bitch, you are Teddy Fay."

"Shhhh," Teddy said. "Finish your wine-we can't talk here."

Ned tossed back his drink and ordered the check. "Let's get out of here," he said, pitching some money onto the table.

A couple of minutes later they were walking down a path high above the canal that was lit by streetlamps, two of which were dark, because Teddy had thrown rocks at them before Ned had arrived. "Okay," Teddy said, stopping and leaning on the steel rail between the path and the canal, "let's talk turkey. If you're giving Darlene ten grand, I want fifty grand for the interview."

"Look," Ned said, "I've only got twenty-five thousand with me, but I'll send you the other half, I swear."

Teddy regarded him for a moment. "I believe you," he said. "What do you want to know?"

"God, I don't know where to start," Ned said.

"That's because you're drunk," Teddy replied. "Take a few deep breaths." He watched as another big tanker approached where they stood.

Ned began taking deep breaths.

"Oxygen, that's what you need," Teddy said.

Ned stopped taking the big breaths. "Jesus, I'm dizzy. I think I'm going to throw up."

Teddy took him by the shoulders and spun him around. "Over the rail," he said.

Ned leaned over the rail and vomited.

Teddy had a quick look around: nobody on the path, nobody on the foredeck of the tanker. He drew back, and, as Ned straightened up, Teddy struck him hard in the back of the neck with the edge of his hand. Ned collapsed onto the rail, and Teddy helped him over and watched him as he fell, struck his head on a crane on the foredeck, bounced off some pipes, then fell between them.

Teddy ambled away. Ned wouldn't be found before morning, if then, and by that time the ship would be at sea, and nobody would know when Ned Partain joined the cruise.

Then he remembered the photograph; it was still in Ned's pocket. And the negative was probably in the editorial offices of the National Inquisitor. Either that, or his old girlfriend Darlene, if she was smart, still had it.

Teddy unlocked his scooter from the rail outside the restaurant, started it, and headed back to Panama City.

He had a lot to think about.