Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1) (34 page)

C
hapter
2
7

A
l
Pantelli
was having a qui
e
t dinner with his brother
,
Pino
,
at
Delmonico
’
s in the Quarter
.

“
You know
.
Al, that Malcolm character bothers me.
”

“
How so
? O
ther than he
’
s a f
reakin
’
rat
?
”

“
I worry about him spilling his guts to the feds.
W
e
’
ve got a
chance to make some real dough with our
Montana Creek Mining
shares.
”

“
I
’
m listening, brother.
”

“
Well, if
Malcolm
starts spouting off about inside info going to Cyrus and payoffs to lab employees
,
it could cause a lot of problems
,
a
nd knock hell out of the share price.
Another thing,
I don
’
t think he owns any shares himself.
The shares are
all
owned by
Twisp River
or
Carib
,
w
hich is to say
,
Cyrus.
”

Al took a sip of h
is wine and looked to see if anybody was listening
.

“
Y
ou think it
’
s worth a hit?
”
he said
,
quietly.

“
All I
’
m saying is
,
why take a chance
?
”

Al nodded
.
“
I could send
t
he
C
hemist to see him.
”

“
Might not be a bad idea.
Malcolm
looked like he was under a lot of stress when he came to see us. Guys
under stress
have strokes all the damn time.
”

C
hapter
2
8

I
called Red and
shut the drill down until after
N
ew
Year’s
.
Nothing much happens
in the
public
markets
during the holidays.
Hedge fund guys and investment bankers
flee
New York in favor of some island paradise
,
and
the dirty hula.
It was a good time to
shut down
and
catch up
.

I
asked
Tina
to join me
on a little winter break
to the Caymans
.
It t
ook her all of a n
a
no
-
second to say yes. We
’
d leave the day after
Christmas
a
nd come back on January
2
.
Ellensburg
is cold and windy in
the winter.
A bit of
time in the sun with Tina in a bikini, or less, sounded
pretty damn good.

I called Cyrus to see if he was going down
to the islands
for the holidays.
He wasn
’
t
and kindly
offered Tina and
me
the use of his
George Town
condo for a week.
Which I thought was fair compensation for all the trouble he
’
d stirred up
in the past
.

Tina and I flew to Houston the day after Christmas.
From Houston w
e caught
an
i
sland commuter f
ight to George Town. We were safely ensconced in Cyrus
’
s th
ree-
story, two
-
bedroom, two
-
bath condo in time to see the sun sink into the Cari
b
bean
. The view from Cyrus
’
s balcony was breathtaking.
Everything else aside,
t
he Virus knew how to live.

We changed into bathing suits and hit the pool. Tina wanted to swim in the ocean, but I reminded her of what a Mexican fisherman had once told me
.
“
No
se
ñ
or
, there are no
sharks
at this fine
beach,
but do not swim after the sun goes down.
”

So, w
e swam some laps
in the pool
.

“
Ready for some dinner?
”
I asked
,
Tina as we toweled off.

“
Starved.
Do you know a good place?
”

“
Jack
’
s in the Colonial Hotel
. It
’
s just up the road. I made reservations while we laid over in Houston.
”

“
Tough place to get in?
”

“
Without a reservation
,
or Cyrus, it
’
s tough.
”
I
said with
a laugh.

Something about swimming with a beautiful wom
a
n, wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini
,
makes me incredibly horny.

“
We
’
ve got about an hour
, a
nd it
’
s best to be fashionably late,
”
I said
,
as I came up behind
her
and untied her bikini top. I ran my hands up her f
lat
belly and cupped her
firm
breasts.

She turned and kissed me deeply on the mouth
,
while her right hand moved up the inside of my right leg.

“
I think we
’
ve got time
for a
quickie,
big fella
,
”
she
whispered
,
in a sultry voice.

We were only twenty
-
five minutes late. Which
,
by
i
sland time, is right on time.

The week
flew by. We jogged on the beach, swam, made love at least twice a day
,
and ate some of the best seafoo
d in the world.

It was a shock
get
ting
off the plane
back
in Spokane to fifteen
-
degree temperatures and blowing snow.

Back in my Ellensburg office, tanned and fit, I set up a conference call
with
Wally, Will
,
and
Cyrus
. Jim Lee was
e
n route to New York
,
and I
’
d catch up with him in the morning.

We would start drilling and coring again in a couple of days. It
’
d been pretty quiet, as expected
,
over the holidays.
Cyrus reported that the
Chinese
were still steadily accumulati
ng
our stock.
He
figured
they wouldn
’
t tip their hand until they could attack in force.
“
Korea
n
style
,
”
as Cyrus put it.

C
hapter
2
9

A
l
Pantelli
met with
Pete
r
M
a
netti
,
aka
, t
he Chemist,
in
Al
’
s
office
on
Saint Louis Street
,
in the French Quarter
.

“
Peter
, we
’
ve got another job for you. Almost a clone of the last one. Same city,
similar type
target,
”
Al said, handing
Peter
a legal
-
sized manila envelope
containing
information on Malcolm Trueblood.

The Chemist took the envelope and looked through the contents.

“
Read it over carefully
,
”
Al said
,
“
t
hen burn it all.
”

Peter
nodded
.
“
A
ny particular method in mind for this one?
”

“
It needs to look like a
heart attack or stroke. This fellow
is
stressed out
,
business troubles
,
s
o
it won
’
t be any big surprise when he croaks. We
’
ll wire the money to your offshore account.
half
now and
half
when it
’
s done. Same as always
.
Capisce
?
”

The Chemist nodded, stood up
,
and shook hands with Al
.
“
I
’
ll let you know when it
’
s done.
”

Not too far from where Al and
t
he Chemist were meeting,
Agent
Monroe was meeting with his assistants in the
New Orleans
,
FBI
offices
.

“
Okay, boys and girls, what
’
ve you come up with?
”

Agent
Wilson
Allen stood up.

“
We interviewed every
Pantelli
family
associate
doing time in Louisiana.
As
bait
, w
e
used
the possibility of a reduced sentence in return for any information on a
hit
-
man
with the nickname of
the
Chemist.
”

“
Any luck?
”
Beau asked.

“
The last guy
,
on our last day
of interviews
, gave us our only lead.
”

“
Never fails. Go on
,
”
Beau said, his adrenalin
e
starting to kick in.

“
The guy
’
s name is
Vince Bugati
. He
’
s
doing a nickel in Pollack
for possession with intent to distribute
. S
ays he heard about
a
hitter
,
called
t
he Chemist. He said word on the street was this wacko had a PhD
in chemistry
.
Bugati
also
said th
e
fellow did wet work for the
Pantelli
family
,
a
nd always used poisons.
”

“
Anything
else?
”

“
I told him if his information panned out, we
’
d
look at trying to get his sentence reduced.
”

“
How much time
’
s
he got left?
”

“
About three years.
”

“
Okay, damned fine work people. Let
’
s start checking local universities and colleges for PhD chemists with major malfunctions
, p
ersonal problems, gambling or drug habits,
ex-wives
, dead wives. You know the drill.
And start with
Louisiana colleges and universities
”