Read Online Everglades by Randy Wayne White - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Randy Wayne White
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half mile or so from the resort, but it’s all underground. So a rumble maybe, not much. I’m guessing. I’m new at faking earthquakes, so who knows?”
“But we’ll feel it. On the reservations, the Miccosukee and the Seminole, they’ll feel it?”
Izzy said, “Oh, they’ll feel it. At Brighton and Big Cypress, twenty, thirty miles away. A little tingle through the ankles. The National Seismic Network has a monitoring station in Orlando, and the University of Florida has a tele-dyne, a seismograph, in the ’Glades near Flamingo. Their equipment picks up quarry blasts. So you’ll have proof. No one can say it was mass hypnosis, any of that bullshit.”
On Shiva’s desk were the notes he’d made during his conference call with his San Francisco people.
It had not gone well. They could not speak openly, of course—he had reason to believe that the Feds were monitoring his phone calls. But Shiva could hear the fear in the Ashram manager’s voice when he asked, “Do you know what the average prison sentence is in California for rape?”
Shiva got the clear impression that the manager would choose to turn state’s evidence against the Ashram rather than fight a felony charge.
Shiva looked at his notes briefly, then pushed them aside. He said, “Izzy, there’s one thing you need to understand here. We’ve got to make this work. Nothing—absolutely nothing—we can’t let anything get in our way.”
Izzy was sitting on an orange sofa that had carved teak armrests: elephants and jackals. He’d changed clothes. Was now wearing dress slacks, a satin dinner jacket, black-and-white loafers, his hair blow-dried and sprayed in place.
Coming into the room, he’d checked his watch: eight-fifteen. He wanted to wrap this up; hit the Friday night meat markets, have a few drinks and do some dancing.
Or maybe drive down to Coconut Grove, hop in the boat and check out Sally Minster’s house, see if she really had gone to Sanibel. The woman liked to walk around her bedroom in bra and panties; no idea someone could watch her from the water. He liked the thought of that.
Plus, he’d installed the two minicameras in her bedroom. Those videos could be interesting.
Sitting comfortably, showing how relaxed he was, Izzy replied, “I’m not letting anything get in my way, Jerry. I’ve got a lot on the line myself.”
Shiva said, “That means communication between the two of us is damned important.”
Izzy waited, thinking, Oh, shit, here we go again.
“I’m impressed with what you’ve got going, all the planning you’ve done, but I’m going to be frank. I don’t like the idea of you changing plans without even consulting me.”
“That’s what I’m doing now. Consulting—”
“No, no you’re not. You’re telling me. Two blasts, not three. In eighteen eleven, when Tecumseh prophesied the Mississippi earthquakes, there was a series of tremors—”
“Yeah, well, I don’t much care about what some dead Indian predicted two hundred years ago.” Izzy held both palms out, getting peeved. “You don’t need to know all the details, Jerry. I don’t want you to know the details. I have people in the right places. The whole thing’s set. So just take my word for it.”
Raising his voice, Shiva said, “ I make the decisions in this organization—”
“Not when it comes to covering my ass, you don’t. You want some stooge, find yourself another guy.”
Izzy fumed for a moment before he added, “Maybe it is time for me to quit. Maybe write that book I always wanted to do. Call it Behind the Curtain with Bhagwan Shiva. Start off with the gag where you made the one-armed girl whole again. How many people converted that night? Couple thousand? I wonder how they’d feel if they found out the truth—your one-armed miracle girl got paid a bundle . . . and so did her twin.”
In barely a whisper, Shiva said, “Don’t threaten me. I won’t tolerate it. Other men have threatened me, other
“But we’ll feel it. On the reservations, the Miccosukee and the Seminole, they’ll feel it?”
Izzy said, “Oh, they’ll feel it. At Brighton and Big Cypress, twenty, thirty miles away. A little tingle through the ankles. The National Seismic Network has a monitoring station in Orlando, and the University of Florida has a tele-dyne, a seismograph, in the ’Glades near Flamingo. Their equipment picks up quarry blasts. So you’ll have proof. No one can say it was mass hypnosis, any of that bullshit.”
On Shiva’s desk were the notes he’d made during his conference call with his San Francisco people.
It had not gone well. They could not speak openly, of course—he had reason to believe that the Feds were monitoring his phone calls. But Shiva could hear the fear in the Ashram manager’s voice when he asked, “Do you know what the average prison sentence is in California for rape?”
Shiva got the clear impression that the manager would choose to turn state’s evidence against the Ashram rather than fight a felony charge.
Shiva looked at his notes briefly, then pushed them aside. He said, “Izzy, there’s one thing you need to understand here. We’ve got to make this work. Nothing—absolutely nothing—we can’t let anything get in our way.”
Izzy was sitting on an orange sofa that had carved teak armrests: elephants and jackals. He’d changed clothes. Was now wearing dress slacks, a satin dinner jacket, black-and-white loafers, his hair blow-dried and sprayed in place.
Coming into the room, he’d checked his watch: eight-fifteen. He wanted to wrap this up; hit the Friday night meat markets, have a few drinks and do some dancing.
Or maybe drive down to Coconut Grove, hop in the boat and check out Sally Minster’s house, see if she really had gone to Sanibel. The woman liked to walk around her bedroom in bra and panties; no idea someone could watch her from the water. He liked the thought of that.
Plus, he’d installed the two minicameras in her bedroom. Those videos could be interesting.
Sitting comfortably, showing how relaxed he was, Izzy replied, “I’m not letting anything get in my way, Jerry. I’ve got a lot on the line myself.”
Shiva said, “That means communication between the two of us is damned important.”
Izzy waited, thinking, Oh, shit, here we go again.
“I’m impressed with what you’ve got going, all the planning you’ve done, but I’m going to be frank. I don’t like the idea of you changing plans without even consulting me.”
“That’s what I’m doing now. Consulting—”
“No, no you’re not. You’re telling me. Two blasts, not three. In eighteen eleven, when Tecumseh prophesied the Mississippi earthquakes, there was a series of tremors—”
“Yeah, well, I don’t much care about what some dead Indian predicted two hundred years ago.” Izzy held both palms out, getting peeved. “You don’t need to know all the details, Jerry. I don’t want you to know the details. I have people in the right places. The whole thing’s set. So just take my word for it.”
Raising his voice, Shiva said, “ I make the decisions in this organization—”
“Not when it comes to covering my ass, you don’t. You want some stooge, find yourself another guy.”
Izzy fumed for a moment before he added, “Maybe it is time for me to quit. Maybe write that book I always wanted to do. Call it Behind the Curtain with Bhagwan Shiva. Start off with the gag where you made the one-armed girl whole again. How many people converted that night? Couple thousand? I wonder how they’d feel if they found out the truth—your one-armed miracle girl got paid a bundle . . . and so did her twin.”
In barely a whisper, Shiva said, “Don’t threaten me. I won’t tolerate it. Other men have threatened me, other
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