Read Online Dance for the Dead by Thomas Perry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Thomas Perry
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sweatshirt
with a picture of a hand holding five aces. She walked across to the
other side wall and picked out a pair of running shorts. The little
store didn’t sell shoes, but it had some foldable slippers for
people whose feet bothered them on long flights. The whole shopping
spree took less than a minute, and then she was at the cash register.
She came out the door with her
bag of purchases and slipped into the ladies’ room. She changed
in the stall, dropped her clothes into the trash can, picked up her
magazine covers, and then came out again, this time to join the crowd
going toward the arrival gates.
As she walked, she checked her
watch. Only four minutes had passed since she had stepped off the
plane and come out of Gate 10 with the salesman. This time she was in
her shorts and sweatshirt, two and a half inches shorter than she had
been in her high heels, her tinted glasses gone and her hair in a
ponytail through the back strap of her Las Vegas baseball cap.
She moved to Gate 12, directly
across the open hallway from Gate 10. The sign over the desk at Gate
12 said, arr: northwest flt 907 los angeles. She sat down in the side
row of seats where other people were waiting for Flight 907 to arrive
and put the sign she had made on her lap, where it could be seen if
somebody were looking. It said in big, black letters, mary perkins.
She saw the two men notice her.
They were in the positions they should be in – apart, but
watching the people coming off the Southwest flight from Los Angeles
at Gate 10. They both wore sportcoats that might have covered the
guns they couldn’t have on them now. They noticed Jane within a
few seconds. They kept glancing across the hallway at her, but
neither moved.
At last Jane saw two
stewardesses come out of the tunnel at Gate 10 and walk past the two
watchers. They were wearing their little uniform jackets and were
towing their overnight bags on little carts. Jane’s heart began
to beat more quickly. Whatever Mary Perkins had done to delay getting
off the plane must have been good. If she could only hold out a
little longer, Jane would be able to tie the knot in time.
The two men were staring at each
other now, silently conferring. The departure of the flight
attendants struck them as evidence that they had already watched all
the passengers get off the plane at Gate 10. The two women they had
been told to watch for had not been among them. But there was a
person waiting at Gate 12 holding a sign that said mary perkins. A
second flight from Los Angeles was going to arrive at that gate any
minute. Obviously they had been given the wrong airline and flight
number. The men silently agreed. First one man went to the drinking
fountain. When he came back up the concourse, it was to Gate 12,
where Jane waited. She pretended not to see him. She looked at her
watch, at the clock on the wall, at the carpet.
At last the second man moved. He
walked along the window, pretended to see something out on the
runway, and moved closer to get a better angle. Then, without seeming
to have made a decision, he was in Jane’s waiting area. He
guessed maybe he hadn’t seen anything after all. He looked at
his watch and sat down.
Now there was only one more
thing. If they were trained, or even if they had an instinct for this
sort of work, they would be anxious not to spook her. A woman
limousine driver who picked up strangers at airports probably often
drove alone at night, and she would be careful to avoid being
stalked. The sensible place for them to be was behind her, and fairly
far away.
Jane turned to face Gate 12, so
the men would move to the spots where she wanted them to be. She let
her eyes go up under the brim of her cap and used the reflection in
the darkened window to check. Yes, they were perfect now, watching
her from behind, not able to see the first gate at all.
She picked up movement behind
them. Mary Perkins was not a novice. She was coming out of the
accordion tunnel fast. Ten
with a picture of a hand holding five aces. She walked across to the
other side wall and picked out a pair of running shorts. The little
store didn’t sell shoes, but it had some foldable slippers for
people whose feet bothered them on long flights. The whole shopping
spree took less than a minute, and then she was at the cash register.
She came out the door with her
bag of purchases and slipped into the ladies’ room. She changed
in the stall, dropped her clothes into the trash can, picked up her
magazine covers, and then came out again, this time to join the crowd
going toward the arrival gates.
As she walked, she checked her
watch. Only four minutes had passed since she had stepped off the
plane and come out of Gate 10 with the salesman. This time she was in
her shorts and sweatshirt, two and a half inches shorter than she had
been in her high heels, her tinted glasses gone and her hair in a
ponytail through the back strap of her Las Vegas baseball cap.
She moved to Gate 12, directly
across the open hallway from Gate 10. The sign over the desk at Gate
12 said, arr: northwest flt 907 los angeles. She sat down in the side
row of seats where other people were waiting for Flight 907 to arrive
and put the sign she had made on her lap, where it could be seen if
somebody were looking. It said in big, black letters, mary perkins.
She saw the two men notice her.
They were in the positions they should be in – apart, but
watching the people coming off the Southwest flight from Los Angeles
at Gate 10. They both wore sportcoats that might have covered the
guns they couldn’t have on them now. They noticed Jane within a
few seconds. They kept glancing across the hallway at her, but
neither moved.
At last Jane saw two
stewardesses come out of the tunnel at Gate 10 and walk past the two
watchers. They were wearing their little uniform jackets and were
towing their overnight bags on little carts. Jane’s heart began
to beat more quickly. Whatever Mary Perkins had done to delay getting
off the plane must have been good. If she could only hold out a
little longer, Jane would be able to tie the knot in time.
The two men were staring at each
other now, silently conferring. The departure of the flight
attendants struck them as evidence that they had already watched all
the passengers get off the plane at Gate 10. The two women they had
been told to watch for had not been among them. But there was a
person waiting at Gate 12 holding a sign that said mary perkins. A
second flight from Los Angeles was going to arrive at that gate any
minute. Obviously they had been given the wrong airline and flight
number. The men silently agreed. First one man went to the drinking
fountain. When he came back up the concourse, it was to Gate 12,
where Jane waited. She pretended not to see him. She looked at her
watch, at the clock on the wall, at the carpet.
At last the second man moved. He
walked along the window, pretended to see something out on the
runway, and moved closer to get a better angle. Then, without seeming
to have made a decision, he was in Jane’s waiting area. He
guessed maybe he hadn’t seen anything after all. He looked at
his watch and sat down.
Now there was only one more
thing. If they were trained, or even if they had an instinct for this
sort of work, they would be anxious not to spook her. A woman
limousine driver who picked up strangers at airports probably often
drove alone at night, and she would be careful to avoid being
stalked. The sensible place for them to be was behind her, and fairly
far away.
Jane turned to face Gate 12, so
the men would move to the spots where she wanted them to be. She let
her eyes go up under the brim of her cap and used the reflection in
the darkened window to check. Yes, they were perfect now, watching
her from behind, not able to see the first gate at all.
She picked up movement behind
them. Mary Perkins was not a novice. She was coming out of the
accordion tunnel fast. Ten
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