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do I get aboard and if all that works, what's the plan for me getting past
Fidelito's men so I can reach this Asmodeus?"
Admiral Case cleared his throat, then looked at his daughter. Margaret Case
spoke. "We requested from a group of thirty-one Navy SEALS for volunteers for
an exceedingly hazardous mission. All thirty-one volunteered. Six were picked.
All of them will have the latest equipment. They'll back you up one hundred
percent, Mr. Culhane."
Culhane leaned against a lab stool, then finally sat. He looked at his watch.
A little less than hour remained until the submarine would impact Charleston
harbor. The hurricane would arrive at the same time. And, it couldn't be
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coincidence, although nobody said otherwise.
Fanny.
The logical assumption was that she was dead; but; Culhane told himself he
would have felt that inside him somehow. Instead of despair, there was what in
one of his books he would have labelled 'determined rage'. "If this is all
worked out well, then let's do it," he said quietly. Momma cinda leaned
toward him and very quickly like someone a third her age kissed him on the
cheek.
Chapter Twenty-six
Whit Candler edged forward toward her JeAnn Bonaparte recoiled. "What's the
matter, darling? Nervous?"
She wanted to scream at him, but the adhesive tape covering her mouth had
reduced her to a creature capable only of grunts.
Whitlock J. Candler III smiled, patting her cheek. "Now I know this is going
to be a little uncomfortable, JeAnn, waiting here all tied up and everything.
But, unfortunately," and he smiled again, "I don't think it would be wise of
me at this time to trust you to stay here on your own." Candler glanced at his
wristwatch, then smiled at her again. "By now, your mother and Mr. Culhane are
dead their bodies have been discovered and the police will be wondering who
put them in that elevator shaft. Eventually, that will lead to me. But, with
no witnesses there'll be nothing the police will really be able to do, and
they'll be unable to find me at any event. Once the Chief and I are free here,
we'll dispose of you, then I'll disappear. The paperwork shouldn't be too
difficult change my identity. Live in luxury in Europe for the rest of my
life. With Captain Teach's treasure. I suppose I'd actually have enough to
live in luxury for several lifetimes. What an intriguing thought, huh?"
She forgot about the adhesive tape a moment, tried to talk it was only a
meaningless series of pitiful sounding grunts that she made instead. She shook
her head toward Chief Hanks who stood several yards away from Mary Frances
Mulrooney's yellow Mustang.
"The Chief?" Candler asked, smiling still. "We'll split the treasure " He
leaned down to where she lay trussed at wrists, ankles, elbows and knees.
Candler grinned and for once his bright blue eyes did smile. "But the Chief
might prove a nuisance mightn't he? You've thought of that? Well so have I,
darling. No after we get the treasure secured and loaded out which should
take some time really well. I'll kill him. Now," and he grabbed up the blue
and red plaid auto robe that had been on the rear seat before she had been
wedged there and he draped it over her, covering her from toes to chin,
tucking the sides of it around her. "Wouldn't want you to catch cold,
darling." He planted a kiss on her forehead. "You are even more beautiful when
you're afraid. Your eyes somehow they have an added light."
He leaned back, pushing down the lock button, then slamming the Mustang's
door.
JeAnn Bonaparte closed her eyes, tears filling them. She was already imagining
herself suffocating inside this car. Either that, or the storm surge would
wash over the road and she would be crushed or drowned or both. She was
powerless to free herself and she was going to die&
* * *
Jimmy Howard Hanks walked slowly, cautiously, along the gravel and dirt and
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rocks which formed the crude path which ran toward the beach below. In his
right fist, the weapon slung cross body, was the pistol grip of the old
SPAS-12 shotgun, eight rounds loaded, one round chambered. He kept the
no-longer-imported shotgun for emergencies; this fit the scenario.
He had said nothing to Candler, nothing at all since he Hanks had left the
little yellow Ford and Candler had gone back to speak to the girl.
Hanks hadn't realized he had wanted Momma Cinda's treasure that much enough
to kill Momma Cinda, enough to kill this Culhane guy enough to be ready to
kill Doctor JeAnn Bonaparte. He had killed before, but not like this. It was a
side of his own character which he had not known existed before today.
He would have to return to St. Peters island, despite his new wealth. Have to
live as he had lived at least for a few years. Hanks glanced behind him
Candler, his .45 automatic in hand, was keeping up, Candler, Candler would be
a problem. Candler would likely leave the country, likely never be caught.
But, if Candler were caught Hanks looked at Candler again, Candler giving a
thumbs up signal. Hanks returned it. They were nearly to the beach.
Hanks kept thinking. If he elected to kill Candler, then once Candler had
taken care of Doctor Bonaparte, there would be no one left to implicate him
Hanks. No one left to testify to complicity in two murders, a definite third
to come and how many more deaths with this Fidelito and his crowd. Because, if
Candler ever were caught, Candler would talk. And, if Candler were dead, that
would be impossible. There would be no connection between respected police
official Jimmy Howard Hanks and a string of unsolved murders.
He had already wiped his fingerprints from Candler's house, worn gloves when
he tied up Culhane and Momma Cinda. There was little other incriminating
evidence to clear away.
He tried thinking back. Candler had come to the police station but Candler
had left along with Momma Cinda's books. Hanks had left shortly afterward, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]