Short Straw

At the border he chatted briefly with the guards, then was allowed to drive through. He had not wanted to cross the border armed, so he had not brought a weapon.

BARBARA AND JIMMY were shown to a table on the upstairs terrace, facing the sea. They sat down, ordered margaritas and gazed at the remnants of the sunset over the Pacific.

"So," Jimmy said, "what are your plans, now that you're divorced?"

"I'm not exactly divorced yet," she said. "But soon."

"Say, did you see the news on TV about the murders at the Bel-Air last night?"

"No, I haven't looked at a TV all day," she lied. "Who was murdered?"

"The police hadn't released a name when I saw the report, but there were shots of two corpses being wheeled out of the hotel. Jesus, we were just there last evening!"

Barbara smiled. "What I remember about last evening was a lovely di

"Neither will I," Jimmy replied. "Not any detail." He raised his glass. "Let's drink to that."

They touched glasses. Barbara's mind raced ahead. She'd stay at La Reserve for another week or two, then she'd call the insurance company, get the forms signed and claim four million dollars in insurance money. Once that was in the bank, she'd take the copy of Eagle's will in her bag to Santa Fe and file for probate. She doubted very much if he'd bothered to change it yet. Then she'd move in to Eagle's house, throw out the furniture and start over. She'd always loved Santa Fe, and now she could settle down there on her own terms. Even if he had changed his will, she could fight it. After all, as his undivorced widow, she was entitled to a big chunk of his estate.

VITTORIO, following Birgit's instructions, drove west from Tijuana, then along the coast road. A mile or two further, the restaurant appeared, a large building on the beach.

"Tell me the layout of the place," he said to Brigit.

"The bar is being downstairs, and the dining room is being upstairs. There's a balcony to overlook the sea. I suggest to Barbara this is the best place for tables."

As Vittorio pulled up in front of the restaurant, his cell phone vibrated.

"Hello?"

"It's Eagle; I'm leaving the airport in a cab now, and Cupie Dalton is with me. Where are you?"

"I've just arrived at the restaurant," Vittorio replied.

"Don't go in until I get there," Eagle said. "The driver says it will be less than twenty minutes."

"As you wish, Mr. Eagle." Vittorio hung up.

"Who was this?" Birgit asked.

"My client."

"What is the work you do?"

"I'm a private investigator, and I'm working for Barbara's husband. She stole some money from him and tried to have him killed."

"I don't believe this," Birgit said.

"Birgit, last night, Barbara went to the Hotel Bel-Air in Los Angeles and murdered two people in the suite next door to her husband, thinking she was killing him."

Birgit looked shocked.

"She's also wanted by the police in Mexico for cutting off a man's penis."

Birgit's jaw had dropped now. "A perfectly good penis?"

"A perfectly good penis."

"Is a waste."

"Well, yes."

"What will you do here? You will kill Barbara? I don't want this."

"No, I will not kill her. I don't even have a gun." He showed her the file folder. "I will just get her to sign these documents, then I will be done with her, and we can have a good di

"This is all?"

"I promise you, I will not harm her."

"Why are we not going inside, then?"

"I'm waiting for Ed Eagle, her husband, to arrive. He will be here shortly, and five minutes after that, it will all be over."

"You are promising?"

"I am promising."

Vittorio looked around but didn't see anyone else. There should be people here. He punched a number into his cell phone.

"Si?"

"This is Vittorio. I am at the restaurant; where are you?"

"Coming to Tijuana now. I will be thirty minutes, I think."

"When you arrive, wait in her car. I don't want to make a scene inside, and it will be best to take her when she leaves the restaurant."

"As you wish, Vittorio."

Vittorio hung up.

"And who was that?" Birgit asked.

"A friend," Vittorio replied.

Fifty-seven

EAGLE'S TAXI PULLED UP IN FRONT OF THE RESTAURANT, and he and Cupie got out. Vittorio got out of a car and came toward them.

"Good evening, Mr. Eagle, Cupie," Vittorio said, shaking their hands.

"Evening, Vittorio," Eagle said. "What is the plan?"

Vittorio held up the file folder. "My plan is that I go in there and get Barbara to sign these papers, then we leave."

Eagle was silent for a moment. "That sounds way too simple," he said. "I brought Cupie for backup."

"Thanks for coming, Cupie, but I don't think that will be necessary."

"I'm missing something here, Vittorio," Cupie said. "We couldn't get those papers signed when we had her for days. What makes you think she's going to sign now?"

"If you will just leave this to me, I promise I'll get her signature."

"What's plan B?" Cupie asked.

"Tell you what, Cupie," Vittorio said. "If she doesn't sign the papers, I'll call you and Mr. Eagle, and you can have a shot at her when she leaves the restaurant."

"There's something you're not telling us," Eagle said.

"Yes, sir, there is," Vittorio replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He turned and walked toward the restaurant, taking note of a black BMW with California plates.

Vittorio entered the building and, from the doorway, had a good look around the bar. He wanted surprise to be on his side.

A headwaiter approached. "May I help you, sir?"

"I'd like a table for two in about ten minutes, if that's possible."

"I'm afraid we're fully booked in the dining room," the man said, "but we can accommodate you in the bar."

"That will be fine," Vittorio said. "Do you mind if I have a look at the dining room? I've heard a lot about it, and I'd like to see it for myself."

"Of course, sir," the headwaiter said. "May I have your name?"

"Vittorio. My guest, a lady, will be arriving shortly."

The headwaiter noted the name in his book. "Please have a look around, Mr. Vittorio."

Vittorio walked up the stairs, and after a moment, as he neared the top, he stopped, with only his head above the railing, and surveyed the dining room.

It was a large room with perhaps fifty or sixty tables, stone walls, wide plank floors and a pianist playing a Spanish song. Half the tables were on the terrace Birgit had described. Vittorio surveyed the room, but did not spot Barbara at first, so he began a table-by-table viewing, starting with the indoor tables. Still no Barbara.

He began checking the tables on the terrace, and that was harder, since all the people were facing the sea, with their backs to him. Still no Barbara. He walked up the remaining steps and looked again, then he began making his way through the tables toward the terrace. He had now viewed all the tables twice, and he had not seen anyone who even resembled Barbara.

THEN, AS HE WATCHED, a blond woman in a red suit, carrying a large handbag, got up from a table at the edge of the terrace and began making her way toward the rear of the room, probably to the ladies'. Her face wasn't clearly visible, but the handbag and the suit were familiar, and bells were clanging in Vittorio's brain.

Then the full realization hit him: she was the woman who had entered the Bel-Air bar the night before, when he and Eagle were meeting there. She had walked right past them, coming and going, and they had both admired her. And the handbag was Barbara's. She had changed her appearance and fooled them both, and that was how she had known Eagle was at the Bel-Air.