Word on the street was that he was still looking for Gerard Montalvo, even after seven years.
Jack's initial inclination was to handle Bud by himself, but the more he learned about his reputation, the more he realized that he needed a little extra something to even the playing field. When it came to dealing with thugs, Jack had one great equalizer at his disposal. All it took was a phone call. Theo caught a midmorning flight from Miami and met him on the sidewalk right outside the Five Points Diner.
Pancakes, said Theo. He was staring at the steaming stack of hotcakes painted on the diner's plate-glass window. Blueberry pancakes is what I want. With butter and lots of syrup.
Pardon the reminder, but your only job here is to convince Ball-Bustin' Bud that you can be an even worse badass than he is. Can't you order something a little more tough guy?
I want pancakes.
All right, fine. Just, I don't know, order a side of raw bacon or something.
Jack entered the restaurant and Theo followed. The old man at the counter never looked up from his plate of runny eggs over easy. The short-order cook was scraping grease from the griddle with a pumice stone, like nails on a chalkboard. A big guy with a crew cut and a neck as wide as a sequoia was seated in the booth by the window, drinking coffee. He was wearing a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and a plain white T-shirt. His eyes were like a night watchman's, narrow and discerning. He had the nose of an ex-boxer, which was to say that it had apparently been rearranged several times before finally retiring to a place just left of center on his face. A toothpick dangled from his lips, and it moved to one side when he sipped his coffee, never leaving his mouth. His huge hands were covered with the tattoo of a spiderweb, as if to tell the world that no one ever escaped his grasp.
Theo and his pancakes, thought Jack. Now this guy is a real badass.
Bud rose and introduced himself, the toothpick wagging as he spoke. They slid into the booth, Jack and Theo on one side, Bud on the other. Bud was less than subtle in sizing up Theo, probably trying to decide if he was armed, dangerous, or both of the above. Jack heard a toilet flush somewhere toward the end of the back hallway. A waitress emerged from the bathroom, wiping her hands on her coffee-stained apron. She grabbed a pot of coffee on her way to their table and refilled Bud's half-empty mug, saying nothing, displaying all the warmth and personality of a walking cadaver. She pulled a dog-eared notepad from her back pocket, yanked a pencil from behind her ear, and took their orders. Just black coffee for Jack, a double stack of blueberry pancakes for Theo.
Hold the whipped cream, said Theo. Cuz I'm a badass.
Jack could have killed him on the spot, but he decided to wait for another day, hopefully in the not too distant future, when they were traveling together in a state without capital punishment.
Bud looked confused, as if not quite sure what to make of Jack's sidekick. So, what's the deal, gents? How much is the bail?
There is no bail, said Jack.
Then what the hell is so urgent?
We're here to talk about a guy named Gerard Montalvo. I'm sure you've heard of him.
Everyone's heard of him now. I saw the BOLO the FBI issued this morning. Said he's wanted for kidnapping.
I would imagine that you remember him better than most people.
Course I do, he said, scoffing. Son of a bitch skipped bail and cost me almost half a million.
He didn't put up any collateral? said Jack.
Shit yeah. I always get collateral. But you ever tried litigating against the Montalvo family? I swear, the richer these sons of bitches are, the harder it is to squeeze a dime out of them. Their lawyers got me tied up in knots. Only way I'm gonna see that money is to put a gun to Gerard's head. Not that I would do that, of course.
Of course, said Theo. Gotta find him before you can put a gun to his head.
The remark seemed to intrigue Bud. Are you saying you can find Gerard Montalvo?
Jack leaned closer, lowering his voice for effect. I'm saying we have found him.
A wave of interest washed over Bud's face. If that's true, you guys are my new best friends.
Jack laid his hands atop the table. Here's how I see it. You'd like nothing better than to get your half million dollars back from Montalvo. For my own reasons, I'd like to get my hands on just half that much.
So what are you proposing?
Here's the deal, said Jack. I'll pay your usual fee, ten percent. In other words, I'll put up twenty-five thousand dollars for a thirty-day loan of a quarter million dollars. After the thirty days, I give you back your quarter million, and Gerard Montalvo is back in police custody.
What good does that do me?
Theo said, I been in prison. I know what kind of pressure you can bring on someone inside the box to make his family pay off a debt.
Bud nodded, as if he liked the way Theo's mind worked. That would make me a very happy man. But how are you in any kind of position to deliver on a promise to have Montalvo back in police custody within thirty days?
We'll deliver, said Jack.
But what if you don't?
The waitress returned, and all conversation ceased. She slid a double order of pancakes in front of Theo. He looked quizzically at his plate of food, his expression turning sour.
What the hell is this? he said.
Blueberry pancakes, she said in her gum-cracking monotone.
These ain't blueberry pancakes.
Yeah, they is.
What's this stuff on top?
Blueberry compote.
That's not blueberry pancakes. Blueberry pancakes are pancakes with blueberries inside.
Ours come with blueberry compote on top.
Then you shouldn't call them blueberry pancakes. Cuz I can't eat this.
It tastes the same, trust me.
I trust you, darlin'. But when I sees this stack of pancakes covered in blue goop, it don't make me think, Mmm, dig in. It makes me think, Who let the Blue Man Group shit all over my breakfast?
Then eat around it.
Theo shot her one of his patented looks, the kind that could tie even an ex-con's intestines in knots. No, I'm not gonna eat around it. Cuz here's what's gonna happen, babe. You're gonna take this plate to the bathroom, you're gonna drop this compote in the crapper, and you're gonna flush. And you're gonna keep right on flushin' till a big blue load of blueberry shit comes floating out somewhere in the middle of Lake Lanier. Then you're gonna go back in the kitchen and bring me some real blueberry pancakes. Got it?
His glare intensified. The waitress was so speechless that she'd even stopped chomping on her chewing gum. Jack felt a little sorry for her, even though he knew that Theo was just putting on a show for Bud's benefit. She took the pancakes and slithered away.
Bud chuckled, toothpick wagging faster than ever. I like your style, pal.
Theo was stone-cold serious. Like Jack said: We'll have Montalvo back in jail in thirty days.
But you still haven't answered my question. What if you don't?
Jack said, Then you keep my twenty-five grand, and I pay you back the quarter million. You made twenty-five thousand dollars in one month.
Pay me back out of what?
Three-year promissory note. Ten percent interest.
Twenty, said Bud. And before I deliver one red cent, I need proof that you know where Montalvo is. I don't care if you are the son of a former governor. I'm not laying out this kind of money on blind faith.
Jack didn't want to play this final card, but a guy like Bud was his only chance of raising this much cash in a matter of days. He pulled his Dictaphone from his coat pocket and gave it to Bud, along with an earpiece. Jack said, Montalvo kidnapped my girlfriend. This is his last phone call to me. His voice is disguised, but he gives himself away at the end. He's the Got the Look Rapist.
Bud seemed more than a little skeptical, but Jack definitely didn't want to get into the whole story of how Mia was Teresa. Go ahead, said Jack. Listen to it. I haven't shared this with anyone but the FBI.
Bud inserted the earpiece, hit Play, and listened in silence for about two minutes as the conversation unfolded. The tape ended with the kidnapper's response to Jack's pointed question - whether he would still say the Mia's got the look. Some of the skepticism had drained from Bud's face, but he still didn't look convinced. Okay, he seems to acknowledge that he's the Got the Look Rapist. But the caller's voice is disguised. How do I know this isn't you and Theo cooking up some scam?
Didn't you hear Jack's voice? said Theo. If he was faking it, he should get an Academy Award.
Bud drew a deep breath, as if he were almost willing to concede that Theo had a point. You geniuses got a plan?
Does Miami habla espaA+-ol? said Theo.
Huh?
He means yes, said Jack.
What is it?
Jack couldn't spell out everything to a stranger, but any lender had a right to know his money wasn't being squandered. It's a few simple steps. One, I continue dealing with him in a way that will convince him that I'm following his order to keep the cops out of it.
You gonna arrest him yourself?
No. The FBI has to be involved. But it's my job to make him believe he's dealing only with me. And it's up to me to negotiate a simultaneous exchange. He gets the money when he gives me Mia. That's the only way I can lure him out into the open to let the FBI do its job.
How do you get him to agree to your simultaneous exchange?
That's where your loan comes in, said Jack. I have to assure him that the payoff at the end of the day is big enough to justify the risk. So far, the FBI is only willing to put up twenty thousand as bait. I need a lot more than that to lure Montalvo out into the open.
Bud seemed nearly sold, but not quite. Quarter million bucks is a lot of money. Even if you just plan to use it as bait, there's no guarantee you won't lose it. I'm gonna need some collateral.
If I had that much collateral, I'd be talking to a bank, said Jack.
I didn't say full collateral. Just something to show me you're serious.
Theo pulled an envelope from inside his jacket and slid it across the table. Bud opened the envelope and gave the contents a quick once-over. What's this?
Property deed and liquor license, said Theo.
Jack couldn't believe his eyes. Theo, what are you doing, man?
Quiet, Jack. He looked straight at Bud and said, It's from my bar - Sparky's. Hole-in-the-wall joint that ain't worth a shit, really. But the real estate and liquor license are good for about two hundred grand.
Jack wanted to snatch it away, tell him no way. Before he could react, however, Bud folded it up and tucked it into his coat pocket. How soon you need the money?
Two days, said Theo.
That's fast.
If we weren't in a hurry, you'd be losin' this loan to Ditech. Can you do it?
Yeah. I can do it. But just so we're clear on this. Your twenty-five grand is nonrefundable. If Montalvo isn't under arrest in thirty days, then Sparky's is under new ownership. As for the rest of the money, I'll find you guys. He balled his hands into one big fist, the two halves of the tattooed spiderweb coming together. Montalvo got away from me. But you won't.
No problem, said Theo.
Bud downed the rest of his coffee, rose, and shook hands. I'll call you in the morning with wire instructions. Pleasure doing business with you boys.
Likewise.
He turned and left the restaurant. When the door closed behind him, Jack was right in Theo's face, incredulous. What in the hell made you bring your bar into this?
Bondsmen don't work without collateral, Jack. You think I didn't know that before I got on the plane and came here?
I was hoping he'd loan me the money if I could just convince him that Montalvo would be in his grasp.
Then you was dreamin'. He may be Ball-Bustin' Bud, but he's still a businessman.
And so are you, damn it, said Jack, his voice straining. I can't believe you did that.
I wouldn't have a bar if you hadn't got me off death row and got me that nice chunk of change from the state of Florida for violation of my civil rights.
They took away four years of your life, not mine. That settlement money is yours, Theo.
Exactly. And I can do whatever I want with it.
We're talking about your bar, man. Your dream. You can't put all that at risk.
Theo was completely serious. Do you love her or don't you?
Jack didn't answer.
I thought so, said Theo.
Jack still couldn't speak. Without being asked, Theo had done something that Jack could never have asked him to do. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but he could feel it all the way to his core, that combined sense of fulfillment and embarrassment that comes when you finally realize that your best friend is a better person than you are.
Just do me one favor, said Theo.
Name it.