Double Doublecross (32 page)

“He's a dangerous person, Rick. Avoid him at any cost. He can be charming one minute and a cruel bastard the next,” she said quietly.

Sara knew all about Phil Speed. At one time she was going to leave Carl and move in with him, but after witnessing one of his violent outbursts, she decided against it. Since then, he had never given up trying to persuade her to be with him.

She hadn't heard from him for some time, and she had no intention to contact him. At the moment she was very happy with her current way of life and wanted to keep clear of underworld types like Carl Regis and Phil Speed. A future with either of them promised nothing short of grief.

“Don't worry. I'm only going to deal with Carl.”

“Whatever you do, keep a wary eye open for Phil. I don't think for a minute he will be far from Carl and you. He might even try to grab the bag before it gets to Carl. He's so unscrupulous. Be careful and carry a weapon of some sort just in case you need it.”

“Sure, I can take care of myself,” Rick assured her.

She was right of course; he should take precaution and carry a weapon. He had a fishing knife that would be useful at close range, but he also had a Smith and Wesson .38 locked away in his floor safe. He decided it would be the better choice of the two. He would remember to check it out
before making a move. He hadn't looked at it for years and was not sure if he even had ammunition for it.

“When do you think you'll hand it over?”

“Soon,” replied Rick. He was anxious to get this over with, but he needed to put some insurance in place beforehand.

“I have to do something first though,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm going to make sure you have enough of the money in case I don't make it.”

“Oh Rick, don't say things like that.”

“I'll leave you something in the morning. Don't be concerned. I don't intend to get myself killed. It's just that I want to take the utmost precaution in case something goes wrong,” said Rick softly. “After all, you haven't worked for some time now, and I don't want you to wind up destitute.”

One thing he had to do was explain to Stan Turner that he was going to take his Florida vacation beginning Monday morning.

He opened the floor safe, reached in and took out the Smith and Wesson. He checked it carefully, making sure it was not loaded. He cleaned and oiled it, spun the chamber and squeezed the trigger to make sure it was in working order. Reaching further down into the safe, he took out a box of cartridges, put the safety catch on and loaded the weapon. Finally, in the event he did not return, he counted out ten thousand dollars and left it with a note for Sara. It was now Thursday evening, and he planned to make his move on Sunday.

Carl Regis was agitated. Everywhere he went the tail followed him at close range, much closer than usual. If he
went into a store for a look around, he was right there, not more than a few feet from him. When he went to a restroom, the tail was right there outside waiting. The tail's expression never changed from the cold, indifferent, glazed look, and it distressed Carl to have an adversary so close to him.

Reaching his apartment complex after a visit to the supermarket, Carl decided to call Phil Speed and talk to him about it. He went to the rear of the lobby to make his call.

“What is it?” Speed said after realizing the call was from Carl.

“It's my shadow, Phil. He's practically up my ass everywhere I go. Much closer than usual and I can't understand why.”

“Maybe he's in love with you,” quipped Phil Speed.

“This is not a thing to joke about. You don't know how close he sticks to me. I'll never find a way to lose him when the time comes.”

“Don't worry about that. We'll handle the problem when we have to.”

“We don't want any killing, Phil. There must be another way,” Carl whined.

“It's my problem. I'll handle it, but I need some time to think about it. Whatever I tell you to do—do it without question, okay?” Speed said in a stern voice. “I'll try to be gentle with the guy.”

Carl was quiet for a moment and then changed the subject.

“How are you making out? Got enough money?” Carl said.

“Money's not the problem. Fennel almost caught up with me, but I managed to give him the slip. How he caught up with me, I'll never know. He's the last person we need to be around us now.”

“How close was he?”

“Close enough. He missed me by a few minutes.”

“Where are you now, Phil?”

“None of your business,” snapped Speed. He didn't want to give his whereabouts to Carl just in case Fennel paid him a friendly visit and tried to beat it out of him. “Get in touch with Jacobs and see if you can hurry things up. I can't stick around too long in case they catch up with me.”

“I'll call Sara and see what I can do. Maybe it'll be all over in a day or two, and we can get away fast. I want this over just as much as you, Phil.”

“I know, Carl. Just try to hustle things along. Now get off the line and call Sara. If you get any good news, call me. Or should I say call me
when
you get some good news?” with that he rang off.

‘What a blessing these cell phones are,' thought Carl, ‘can't do without them.' He called Sara but got no answer. He'd try again later. Phil was right. He should try to get this whole thing over with as fast as possible. If Fennel got too close, things could get ugly.

Carl went up to his apartment and decided to put some items in a suitcase he'd take with him. Once the exchange had taken place, he was going to move fast, probably in the opposite direction to Phil Speed. He didn't want any part of him ever again.

Harry Fennel and Dan Grover sat in a restaurant that evening having dinner. The conversation eventually came to the subject of Phil Speed.

“You know, I think I'm right,” said Fennel. “Speed must still be in the area. It could be that Regis has something to do with it.”

Dan Grover nodded in agreement. He had put some thought to it himself and came to the same conclusion.

“I think we're on the right track. Perhaps Regis knows where he is and he's playing dumb. His tail says he's acting normal and a bit nervous being watched so close,” said Dan Grover.

“Maybe I'll give him a friendly call just to jog his memory.”

He opened his cell phone and dialed the number of Carl Regis.

“Regis here,” a voice said on the other end.

“Hey there, Regis! It's Harry Fennel here. Any news from Speed?”

Carl Regis cringed in dismay. This was the last person he wanted to talk to after his conversation with Speed a few minutes earlier.

“No, nothing,” he lied feebly.

“Look here, Carl,” Fennel said in a condescending voice. “If you do hear from him, or if you have any idea where he is—I promise you won't get hurt.”

Carl knew he was lying, and he wasn't falling into that trap. He calmed himself down before answering.

“Sure! Sure thing, Harry! If I hear from him, I'll call you immediately,” he said in a quivering voice.

“I mean it,” Fennel said in a sincere sounding tone. “You can take my word for it,” he lied.

“Thanks, I'll call you if anything comes up.”

“Good boy,” said Fennel and switched off the phone.

“Did you mean that about not hurting him?” Dan Grover asked.

“Don't be stupid. I'll annihilate the cheap little bastard. I'm more convinced than ever he's mixed up in this. I just wanted to give him some hope of getting out of this alive.”

“Do you think he'd tell us if he knew anything?”

“I don't know. He's a squirmy little rat. He might tell us something to save his own scrawny little neck. You never know—you just never know with his type,” said Fennel, carving a piece of filet mignon.

Carl was petrified. He knew Fennel was lying. The pressure was being put on. He had to move things along at a faster pace. He knew he would be unable to withstand much more of Fennel's pressure. With a quick move to the basement, he called Sara.

Sara's cell phone jingled, stopped, and jingled again in the sequence she had set up with Carl months before. She walked into the den as she answered the call.

“Yes, Carl. What is it?” she said, motioning to Rick.

“We have to move faster. Phil's getting impatient. He could do something stupid. I don't have to tell you I'm scared.”

“Just a minute. Let me talk to Rick. Hang on a moment.”

She put her hand over the mouthpiece and got Rick's attention.

“He's getting jumpy. He wants to speed things up. What shall I tell him, Rick?”

Rick thought for a moment. He, too, wanted out of this mess. Here was a chance to set the plan in motion and seize control of it.

“Tell him we'll do it Sunday. I'll give him details
where
and
when
later—through
you
.”

Sara passed the information on to Carl, and she audibly heard a sigh of relief from the other end of the line.

“Thanks, Sara. Remember to contact me through the cell phone. Pass that on to Jacobs, will you?”

“Okay,” she said and turned her phone off.

She looked at Rick and told him what Carl had said about using the cell phone.

“No problem,” he said. “Now I need to go somewhere quiet and make a few plans. It shouldn't take long. I know I'm going to need your help with some of this.”

Sara looked puzzled.

“How?”

“I'll tell you all the details later…. Somehow, we have to get close enough to them to find out if they're planning any little surprise for me.”

“How will you do that? They'll recognize you immediately. Carl's seen you before.”

Rick smiled at her.

“Wait here a minute—make that about ten minutes,” he said.

Sara had to wait less than ten minutes.

“How's this?”

A bearded, crouching figure with gray hair at neck length and dark glasses stood in front of her.

She stared at him.

“How did you do that?” she said in dismay.

“With the help of the makeup man at the Arts Center. Do you like it?”

“It's great … but I think I've seen it before somewhere … on TV or in the movies, I think.”

“Wrong!” he said. “Think hard. You've seen this before but not on the silver screen. Think back to the time you met Carl at the San Francisco Mall in the coffee shop. You stared right at me. I was behind Carl, remember?”

“My God, yes!” she exclaimed. “I remember now. It's a wonderful disguise. How much did that cost you?”

“Almost nothing—and I think it'll fool them. A ski mask and goggles should help too. Now, let's get some sleep. I'll tell you about your part of the plan in the morning.”

They had a mug of hot chocolate, went to bed, made love and fell asleep with Sara wondering what her role in the plan would be.

T
he morning was bright but cold. Gray skies had given way to a clear, crisp morning. The sun reflected off the rain-soaked grass like a field of sparkling diamonds as Rick sipped his coffee and gazed out the window, taking in the beauty of his large garden. Selling the house to Tom Hughes suddenly seemed to be the wrong thing to do, but a contract was imminent, and he felt obliged to follow it through.

Sara sat in a chair opposite Rick, also looking out at the garden.

“Somehow it looks better in the sunlight. Must be a lot of work for Louis, but he's done a great job,” Sara said.

“Yes, he has,” said Rick quietly.

“The laurel hedge around the lawn is a wonderful screen; it gives the place some color through the winter.”

“Yes, I know,” Rick said again in a quiet voice.

“Now, what do you want me to do for your plan?”

“Just make a phone call to Carl.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, there's more—but let's focus on the call to Carl first.
I want you to tell Carl the exchange will take place at the north end of Lake Tahoe. Tell him I'll give him the details on Sunday afternoon, at four-thirty. Tell him to be in the vicinity on Saturday afternoon just in case there's a change in the plans due to any change in the weather. Conditions can change pretty fast up there in the winter.”

“Is that all?” Sara inquired.

“Not quite. I want you to tell him to come alone. Make sure you emphasize that to him, okay?”

Rick knew he would not come alone; he just wanted to test Carl to see how far he could trust him. Judging Speed's character, he would be lurking around somewhere in the background.

“Anything else?” said Sara.

“Yes. Tell him I'll be staying at the Park Hotel on the Nevada side of the border.”

“Is that a wise thing to do, Rick? Why tell him where you will be staying? Is that wise?”

Rick looked her straight in the eye.

“I'm not that stupid. I'll book a room there in a minute. I'm a long-standing customer so it won't be difficult, but I'll check in and then move to a motor hotel I know of just down the road.”

“Where are you going to make the drop?”

“You ask a lot of questions—but that's okay. I'll do it at Squaw Valley in the parking lot. Skiing should be great after the last storm went through. It's one of my favorite places in winter or summer. We should go there in the summer. The view is magnificent and you'll enjoy the ride to the top in the gondola. It's a great experience.”

“Do you want me to do anything else?”

“Yes. Call the Park and make a reservation for a single
room for two nights. Then call the Sunshine Motor Inn and make a similar reservation. Make them for Friday and Saturday nights. I'll be home on Sunday.”

“No problem,” said Sara.