Read Online Murder in Havana by Margaret Truman - Free Book Online

got it.”
    There had been times in the past when Gosling’s condescending manner grated on Pauling. This was one of those.
    “Where’s the plane?” Max asked.
    “At the airport here. We’ll stop by when we leave.”
    “Who’s my contact in Cuba?”
    “Someone who’ll help with your Spanish.”
    “I didn’t ask about
that
.”
    “And I didn’t answer your question. All in good time,Max. Arrangements are being made as we speak. You’ll be contacted at your hotel on the night you arrive in Havana.”
    “I don’t like being contacted by strangers, Vic. This unnamed contact will pave the way for me to meet with people who might have information about what you’re looking for?”
    “Yes. Proof. You know, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced we’re overpaying you. This will be simpler than I imagined.”
    “Very funny. I’d like to see the plane. When am I supposed to leave for Colombia?”
    “Tomorrow, after you meet with my superior. The meeting is just a formality, Max. You know, shake hands, let him see what he’s paying for. You’ll have everything you need for Colombia and Cuba: papers, flight charts, phone numbers, that sort of thing.” He paused to look Pauling over like a headmaster. “Any chance of buying a suit before then?”
    “No.”
    Gosling winced. “Come on,” he said, tossing money on the table. “Let’s go see your airplane. Maybe that will put a smile on your face.” As they left the area, he added, “God, Max, lighten up. We have a free night in Miami, and I mean
free
.”
    Pauling had specified the type of twin-engine aircraft he wanted for the assignment, a vintage Piper Aztec B, the same model in which he’d received his multiengine rating back in New Mexico. It was parked in an isolated corner of Miami International along with other private aircraft. Gosling followed him around the plane as he checked it over.
    “It’s rented, Max, at great expense,” Gosling said. “Handle with care.”
    Pauling ignored him, opened the left-hand door, andpeered inside. All seats had been removed except for the pilot’s to make use of every available inch of space for cargo. He scanned the instrument panel; it was nicely packed with navigation equipment. “How about a spin?”
    “I don’t think so, Max, although I know you’re itching to try it out. No, you go ahead. We’ll meet up later at my hotel.”
    “You’re not staying where I’m staying?”
    “No. I’m at the Delano, on Collins Avenue. I would have put you there, too, except I had a feeling you’d prefer to be near the airport. You know, the smell of aviation fuel, the screeching of landing jets, that sort of thing. Meet me at the Delano tonight at eight. We’ll do up the town.”
    “Don’t wait for me.”
    “Fly safe, Max.” Gosling started to walk away. He stopped, turned, and said, “Eight o’clock. Be there!”
    Pauling arrived at the Delano Hotel precisely at eight. He’d substituted a blue blazer for his vest, tan slacks for his jeans, a blue button-down shirt for the T-shirt, and brown loafers for sneakers. He called Gosling’s room and was told to wait in the Rose Bar, a luxe, dimly lit watering hole with hushed conversations. No rose grew there. Gosling arrived moments after Pauling had ordered.
    “You look positively corporate,” Gosling said as he took a bar stool next to Max. “Well, not quite, but it’s certainly an improvement.”
    “I’m glad you approve. Fancy place.”
    “As I said, I work for a generous employer. Was the plane to your satisfaction?”
    “It’s got lots of hours on it. I hope you got a discount.”
    “Nice hotel, isn’t it? One of those Ian Schrager creations. You know him, of Studio 54 fame. Low lighteverywhere. You need a cigarette lighter to read the buttons in the elevators. The singer Madonna owns the restaurant.”
    “I knew I wasn’t hungry.” Pauling had been facing the back bar. He turned to look at Gosling. “This is all very nice,