Double Doublecross (14 page)

Sara came out of the elevator and walked over to the table and sat opposite Rick. She took a sip of the whiskey sour.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Alec and Rita will be here in about an hour. You know Alec, of course. He introduced us at
The Mikado
closing party a few weeks ago.”

“Of course, I know him. He frequently comes backstage to see his pal, the makeup artist. I think his name is Harry Weeks. He's brilliant. He can make you look like an alien
from another planet if he had a mind to. As for Alec, I don't know him that well but he seems to be a pleasant person. His wife never comes to the opera, so I understand.”

After an hour of idle chatter, Alec and Rita Collins appeared at the small table.

“Shall we go in for dinner?” Alec said after introducing his wife to Sara.

As they entered the dining room, Alec gave Rick a sly nudge on the arm.

“What's up, sport? Are you trying to tell me this is strictly a friendly affair?”

“Yes, I am. I'll tell you about it later.”

Dinner passed, with Rita doing most of the talking, convincing Sara that skiing on the bunny slopes was easy, and she would come to no harm. Finishing dinner, Alec looked across the table at Rick.

“Why don't you girls take a ride to the equipment rental shop? It's stopped snowing now, and we can get an early start if Sara gets equipped tonight.”

Rita smiled. “Okay! Let's go, Sara. We won't be long, guys.”

Waiting until they were out of earshot, Alec leaned forward and murmured, “Now what's this you're telling me about this relationship? Just
good friends
?”

“Yes, strictly good friends. No strings attached,” Rick said softly.

“You're kidding, of course. I thought she was still going around with that creep—what's his name—Carl something or other? A shifty-looking character. Throws a lot of money around.”

“It's a long story, Alec. She's finished with him and was looking for a place to live so I offered her a room at my
place.”

“So you've been seeing her for some time I take it? Did Carl the creep throw her out? That's not like him. They seemed to be getting along well together. What she saw in him is still a mystery to me.”

“I took her to lunch a few times after you introduced us. Then she asked me to find her an apartment. This is the wrong time to look for anything so I offered her a place until I find something in the next few weeks. I don't know the circumstances under which she left Carl the creep, as you so aptly put it, and I don't care. She's a good cook, pleasant personality, warm at times but at other times she's as cold as a dead fish. I can't always understand her.”

Alec glanced over Rick's shoulder.

“Here they come. All smiles. I guess everything is set up for the morning. Hi, girls. Everything go okay?”

“Yes, we're ready for the slip-sliding tomorrow morning,” Rita said. “Now I'm ready for an early night and an early start. So, let's hit the hay, Alec. See you all in the morning.”

Alec smiled. “Management has spoken. Good night, you two. See you tomorrow.”

T
he following day, Sara experienced her first time on skis. Rick had arranged for her to have two consecutive beginner lessons, to give her confidence and an understanding of how to handle herself on the slopes. She was quick to learn and enjoyed the new experience, as she made her way down the beginner's slope by herself for the first time. Occasionally Rick would ski over to see how she was progressing, and he constantly gave her the benefit of his skiing prowess with a few tips.

At the end of the day, they had made a point of meeting at the base of the slopes for a cup of hot chocolate before changing for dinner. Sara appeared exhausted but exhilarated at having completed her first attempt at skiing. Her cheeks had taken on a rosy glow that contrasted with her fair complexion and complimented her azure blue eyes. She realized she had not felt so happy for a long time.

“How was it?” Rick asked, sitting at a table with a view of the snow crested mountain peaks. “Any major problems on your first day? I was watching you and you did just fine. Tomorrow we'll try one of the intermediate slopes. Don't
worry, Alec and I will be with you. They are not much more difficult than the beginner slopes.”

“Oh, I don't know, Rick. It seems such a long way up there. I don't think I'm ready for that just yet.”

“Don't you believe it. You were first class on your first day. Now, let's get some dinner with Rita and Alec, then hit the sack for an early start in the morning.”

The next day, after a brief recap on the beginner slope, Rick and Alec convinced Sara to try the intermediate slope. By the end of the day she found herself skiing down the slope slowly, and eventually she felt very proud of herself.

“I‘ve thoroughly enjoyed this weekend,” she said to the other three. “Thanks a lot for being so patient and understanding.”

“I guess I'm the chicken of the outfit. I still only feel comfortable on the bunny slope,” Rita chuckled.

“It's a pity we have to go home tonight. I was just getting the hang of it,” said Sara.

“We'll come again and get you more experienced. You'll love it,” said Rick.

“How many times a year do you come here?” asked Sara.

“In the winter I come here as often as possible, even if it's just for a single day.”

“Deal me in next time, if that's okay.”

“No problem,” he said.

They laughed and made their way to the cars. Sara looked up at the snow capped mountains and felt the crisp, clean air on her face. She was aware of a different way of living and a better class of people than she was used to. ‘
This
,' she thought, ‘was a better way of life.' Her desire for independence and money became more evident.

Carl Regis stalked around his apartment, which was still in a shattered state. He had tidied up as best he could. The furniture and mattresses, although serviceable, were ripped open in several places where his tormentors had searched for the money. It was now two weeks since he had seized the cash, but he still had a shadow everywhere he went.

He was anxious to get his hands on the money and disappear with Sara to one of the Caribbean islands, or even Europe. There he could take his time to hide the large sum in offshore banks, real estate or even in the commodities market.

Sitting down on his dilapidated couch, he decided to call Phil Speed to see how he was feeling, and to somehow get an idea from him what the latest information was about the theft. Dialing the hospital number, he waited for Phil to pick up the phone, knowing full well that he was only interested in information regarding their status within the organization.

“Phil here,” a voice said in a bored tone.

“Hi, Phil. It's me, Carl. How you feeling? How's the pelvis?”

“Hi, Carl. The good news is that the pelvis was not fractured as they first thought. It's only badly bruised. The bad news is I still feel like shit. My doc says I'll be out of here in a couple of days, but I'll have to take it easy for a week or two.”

“Well, that's something. Have you heard anymore about the robbery? I think it must have been an inside job. God knows we took a beating for nothing. I hope they catch the bastard and take the heat off of us. I need the work.”

Carl had chosen his words carefully knowing his apartment was probably bugged.

“I haven't heard a thing. Nobody has come to see me, and
I'm really bored with it all. Like you, I need the work and the money.”

“I'll come round and see you soon. When would it be convenient?”

“Wait until I get out of here. I don't feel up to it at the moment. I'll give you a call. Better go now. I need the rest and I have to take a couple of painkillers before they start using my ass as a pincushion. My nurse reminds me of Captain Ahab—great with the harpoon! She gives me a jab twice a day just for the fun of it.”

“Still got a sense of humor I see,” Carl said with a chuckle. “Okay, I'll talk to you later. Bye for now.”

Carl pondered the position he was in. Somehow he had to get a message to Sara, just to touch base and let her know he was waiting for his chance to take the money off her hands. Maybe there was a way. He sat down and switched on the television. He picked up a pen and some notepaper then started to compose a short message to her.

Completing the note, he sealed the envelope and addressed it to Sara at Rick's address that he found in the telephone directory. Getting a message to her to check the mail and then mailing the note was a different story.

He looked at his cell phone and realized he couldn't make a call from within the apartment. He didn't know for sure how close he was being watched from the outside; nevertheless, he had to call her first to put her on the alert to check the mail regularly.

He had to try something fast. Picking up his car keys, he went to the elevator and walked through the lobby to his car in the parking lot. Slowly and deliberately he looked around for his shadow, but could see nobody. He wondered if his car was bugged. ‘Probably not,' he thought. For the sake
of not being caught, he had to think of a line that was not suspicious.

He started the car, reached for his cell phone on the passenger's seat and dialed twice with two rings as they had agreed on. Dialing the third time, he bent over to the glove compartment as if to reach for something. He picked up the phone and waited for Sara to answer.

“This is Sara. Is that you, Carl?”

“Watch your mail,” he said briskly. “Note on its way. Can't talk now,” he murmured softly and hung up the phone.

He straightened up, fiddled around a few seconds for the benefit of his shadow and pulled out into the street, heading for the supermarket. Pulling into the large parking lot, he noticed his follower about fifty yards behind him. Looking around him he spotted what he was looking for, a mailbox. He made a point of parking as close to the mailbox as he could, making sure he had to pass it when he came out with his shopping bag.

“So you're still on my tail, are you?” he said to himself. “We'll soon know if my car was bugged.”

Entering the store, he picked up one of the small shopping baskets and started to move slowly up and down the aisles looking at the items nonchalantly and picking up his tail out of the corner of his eye.

Carl Regis was not a good food shopper. As a rule, he ate out as often as possible. Now he was forced to shop for items in a meaningful way, to fool his adversary. First, he picked up a pound of ham, followed by a packet of rolls. Next, he selected a pizza, two frozen dinners, some ice cream and some toothpaste.

‘That should be enough,' he thought.

Reaching the checkout, he paid with his debit card and
exited the shop.

“You forgot the detergent,” said a voice behind him.

He turned and came face to face with his faithful new shadow.

“Didn't know you cared,” Carl Regis said sardonically.

“Oh, we always care about our work force,” he said with a sneer.

He followed Carl as he walked toward his car. Carl slipped the note for Sara under the shopping bag, fumbling with it as he reached the mailbox. He turned and hoisted the bag onto the mailbox as if he needed to adjust his hold. As he did so he quickly slipped the note into the mail slot, fumbled some more, and continued on his way, hoping to hell that his move had not been spotted.

He reached his car without any interruption, realizing his move had not been noticed. Slowly he got into the car, giving his follower a curt nod and a sideways glance, and drove to his apartment with an air of achievement.

Now he had to wait for the note to be delivered into Sara's hands before making his next move. It had been two weeks since the heist and he was getting impatient, but he had to keep his cool and gain the confidence of his employers before completing his plan.

When Sara received the phone call from Carl, she knew he was in some kind of trouble. The message had been short, curt and spoken in a soft voice. All he had said was to wait for the note in the mail, meaning that during the next few days she would have to make sure she got to the mail before Rick.

This would not be difficult as Rick would not be home from the office until after five o'clock. The mail usually arrived about two o'clock in the afternoon, except on a Saturday
when it arrived in the morning around eleven. ‘Today was Monday,' she thought, ‘the letter might be in the mail on Wednesday.'

In the meantime Rick Jacobs was busy in the office with Tom and Janet Hughes going over the itinerary for the day. There was very little to show them in the area, and by the end of the day the list was exhausted.

“That's about it at the moment,” Rick said to Janet Hughes as they reached his office. “We can keep searching and hope something else turns up.”

“I definitely want to live close to the BART, and Janet likes this area, but I've only got a couple of months before I move up here, and we'd like to get settled before then,” said Tom.

Rick thought for a moment and said in a surprised voice that even startled himself, “I might be considering selling my place. It's too big for a single person like me to live in. I've been thinking about moving into a smaller place, perhaps a condo or apartment. You can look it over if you like and I can give it some thought.”

“Okay, let's do that. We can give you a couple of days and we could get together say … on Wednesday. How does that suit you?” said Tom Hughes with a grin.

“Fine,” said Rick. “See you then.”

When they had left, Rick sat back in his chair and thought over what he had done. Did he really want to sell his house? He asked himself this question over and over again. What had made him say it?

If he sold the house it would take care of his mortgage problem. There would be no need to be concerned about foreclosure. On the other hand he would have to find somewhere else to live. The timing was not to his liking, but
it would eliminate one of his problems. In the meantime he would still have to find two or three months' mortgage payments to keep the wolves from the door.