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Angel.” He waved a hand in the air. “Oh, I know we needed her dead anyway, that it was necessary to keep her from putting the screws to our overall plan. But then to give that crazy old man what
he
thought he needed? Just so he’d finally give his support?” He shook his head. “That, my friend was a mistake. You should have thought about the effect, the disgrace it might bring on Fidel and his cronies. Christ, we’d already gotten Fidel to accept what we wanted.” He shook his head. “If you recall. I told you this Palo Monte-Red Angel nonsense was dangerous. There were other ways to keep the old man happy. Christ, we could have found
any
doctor. The old man never would have known the difference.”
    Cabrera jumped up from the bed, furious. “He wanted
her.
”
    Cipriani drew a breath, buying time. He kept his voice soft, free of accusation. “Yes, he did. And now, from what you tell me, there are people who want
him
dead.”
    Cabrera spun away and stared at the cell door. “That is not the reason. They wanted him dead before this happened. Because he at first opposed the plan.”
    “Yes, but only because they thought he wanted a bigger share. But that was a matter that could be negotiated. Resolved.” Cipriani raised his hands. “Since he’s coming here, maybe it already has been resolved.” He shook his head. “But now, because of the Red Angel, there may be no share for anyone. This, they will not forgive. And they will blame him. Perhaps even you.”
    Cabrera spun back, eyes glaring. “Is that all you have to offer? I could get more from some crazy
palero
, rolling coconut shells on the floor to divine my future.”
    “What do you want me to tell you? Finding the body now is impossible, unless you want to produce a corpse with its head and hands and feet missing.”
    “That may be my only choice.”
    “Then you will have to have arrests. Arrests that could lead back to you.”
    “Not if the people responsible are dead.”
    Cipriani shrugged. “That’s always a solution.” He tapped a finger against his lips. “And for more than just your fellow conspirators.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    Cipriani stroked his chin, as if ready to impart a unique wisdom. “Tell me something first. Does Mickey D know about any of this?”
    “He knows about the ritual that will be performed,” Cabrera said.
    “But not about these problems?”
    Cabrera shook his head. “No, he knows nothing. He is due to arrive here in a few days. I am hoping to have it resolved by then.”
    Cipriani nodded. “I think that’s wise. In fact, I think it’s imperative that it
is
resolved by then. Unless you want to see this whole deal blow up in your face.”
    Cabrera stared at him. “And what do you suggest?”
    “I think you need another accident. I’m talking about María Mendez’s niece.
And
her detective lover.
And
Martínez.” He gave Cabrera a regretful smile. “There are billions of dollars at stake, my friend. You’ve already gotten rid of two people who threatened our little deal—that Pineiro guy, and the Red Angel. So, do what you did the other times our plan was threatened. Arrange another automobile accident.”
    Cabrera’s jawline hardened. “I have considered this, and already I have people in place.” He let out a long breath. “But, of course, you are right. There is no choice now. It is something that must be done quickly.”
    Before they left the hotel, Devlin got a list of available flights from Cubana Airlines, then placed a call to NewYork. Ollie Pitts mumbled something about grave-robbing communists when Devlin explained the problem. He grunted when Devlin told him what he wanted. Then he cackled when Devlin said he would personally cover the cost of the flight, the hotel, and all the detective’s meals and expenses. When Pitts started to negotiate beer money as an expense, Devlin gave him two choices. He could arrive in Havana later that night via a connecting flight from the