THE VIRGIN ISLANDS
The visitor noted that several more artifacts-figurines, ceramics, and masks-had been added to the collection. All were authentic, expensive, and illegally obtained examples of ancient Mayan craftsmanship. “The woman disappeared.”
“What?” The old man, who’d been distracted as he attached an intravenous line to a needle in his arm, snapped his head up. “Disappeared? You assured me that wasn’t possible.”
“I believed it wasn’t.” the fair-haired man said. His tone was somber. “She was being paid so well and treated so lavishly that I thought it highly unlikely she would want to leave.”
The old man glowered, his thin body rigid with fury. Seated in a leather chair in the main cabin of his two-hundred-foot-long yacht, flanked by displays of his current passion, Mayan art, he stretched his gaunt frame to its maximum. His gaze intensified by his glasses, his pinched expression emphasized by his thick white hair, he dominated the cabin, even though he wasn’t tall. “Human nature. Damn it, that’s always been your problem. You’re excellent when it comes to tactics. But your emotional range is so limited that you don’t understand. . ”
“She was lonely,” the pleasant-faced man said. “I anticipated that possibility. My people were watching her in case she attempted to do something foolish. Her maid, her butler, her chauffeur, the doorman at her condominium building in Manhattan-all of them worked for me. Every exit from that building was constantly watched. On those rare occasions when she had permission to leave it, she was followed.”
“And yet,” the old man rasped, his nostrils flaring with angry sarcasm, “she managed to disappear.” His white hair contrasted with the pewter tint of his skin, which in turn was emphasized by the gray of his robe, the left sleeve of which was rolled up to admit the intravenous tube leading into his arm. “You. I blame you.” He pointed his bony right index finger. “Everything depends on her. How in God’s name did this happen?”
The well-dressed man gestured in frustration. “I don’t know. My people don’t know. It happened last night. Between two A.M., when the maid last saw her, and noon, when the maid decided to check on her, the woman managed to get out of the condo and the building. We have no idea how. When I learned what had happened, I decided I’d better report to you in person rather than use the telephone. I caught the first available flight.” He gestured toward the starboard windows of the cabin and the numerous other yachts in St. Thomas’s hotel-rimmed, sunset-tinted harbor.
The old man squinted. “Willingness to face blame. I respect that. It’s rare for a sociopath to have character. Does she have access to her bank account?”
“No. Since she was provided with all the comforts she wanted, she had no need to spend money. Hence she didn’t realize that the bank statements she was shown, the ones that indicated her salary deposits, were for an account that required me to cosign for withdrawals. The money’s inaccessible to her.”
“Jewelry?”
“She took it all. The diamond necklace alone is worth four hundred thousand dollars. In theory. But of course, the stones aren’t genuine. Still, there are only certain establishments in the New York area that would have the resources to buy such an item, if it weren’t a copy. And since she doesn’t know it’s a copy, she’ll have to go to them. My people are watching those establishments.”
The old man frowned. “Assuming she’s able to obtain money-and I suspect she will, given the ingenuity she showed in escaping your people-where would she go? What can she do?”
“She’d be a fool to go back to her former patterns. She has to assume that we’ll watch her relatives, her friends, and her previous business associates, that we’ll tap their phones, et cetera. If she’s smart-and she’s proven she is-she’ll go to ground. The last thing she wants is trouble from us.”
“Us?”
“From you.”
The old man gestured with a wrinkled hand, his eyes harsh with disapproval yet glinting with superiority. “Human nature. You still haven’t learned the lesson. If loneliness made her run, the one thing she won’t do is go to ground. She’ll want companionship. She’ll want the security and satisfaction of a life that she creates, not one that’s forced upon her. She won’t trade one cage for another.”
“Then what will. .?”
The old man stared at his intravenous line and brooded. “She’ll get help.”
“From?”
“There are only two reasons for someone to help someone else,” the old man said. “Money and love. We can’t possibly anticipate who would work for her. But I wonder if she would trust a stranger who is loyal to her only for money. I suspect that someone in her position would prefer to depend on love, or at least friendship. Who in her background has the skills to help her?”
“As I told you, her family, friends, and former contacts are under surveillance.”
“No. Look deeper. She wouldn’t have fled unless she had a plan. Somewhere there’s someone who knows about this sort of thing and whom she knows she can ask for help. Someone who isn’t obvious. Someone she trusts.”
“I’ll get started immediately.”
“You’ve disappointed me,” the old man said. “Your success in Chicago and Guatemala was so encouraging that I’d arranged a reward for you. Now, I’m afraid, I’ll have to withhold it.”
An intercom buzzed on a table beside the old man’s chair. He pressed a button. “I told you not to interrupt me.”
“Sheik Hazim is returning your telephone call, Professor,” a female voice said.
“Of course. I’ll speak to him.” The old man rested his hand on the telephone beside the intercom. But before he picked it up, he told his visitor, his voice stern and flinty, “Don’t disappoint me again.” He adjusted the flow of red liquid that drained from an intravenous bottle into his arm-blood treated with hormones from unborn lambs. “Find the bitch before she ruins everything. If Delgado discovers she’s loose, if he discovers she’s out of control, he’ll go after her and possibly us.”
“I can deal with Delgado.”
“Of that, I have no doubt. Without Delgado, however, I can’t do business. I can’t get access to the ruins. And that would make me very unhappy. You do not want to be near me when I am unhappy.”
“No, sir.”
“Get out.”