Read Online Return to Atlantis: A Novel by Andy McDermott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andy McDermott
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then
pow!
Smacks me in the mouth.”
Nina raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Ranting? About what?”
“About some friend of his who’d died.”
“Do you mean Mac? Jim McCrimmon?”
“Yeah, him. He blamed me for it, for God knows what reason.”
She gave him a deeply suspicious look. “And why would Eddie do that? Was it anything to do with when he met you in Bogotá?”
Larry said nothing, but Julie rounded on him. “Wait, you met Eddie in Colombia? You didn’t tell me about that!”
“I’m sure I mentioned it,” Larry said uncomfortably.
Scowling, the blonde turned away from her husband to address Nina. “I’m trying to remember what Eddie said—I’m sorry, I was so surprised to see him, and the whole thing happened so fast, I didn’t really get it all. But he said …” Her frown deepened with the effort of mental dredging. “He said Larry talked to someone about you, about El Dorado—and then this guy turned up there.”
“Stikes?” Nina suggested.
“Yes, that’s it! Stikes.”
Now it was Nina’s turn to round on Larry. “You talked to
Stikes
? About me?”
“He was a client of mine,” Larry replied defensively.
“He was
what
?” The last word came out as an angry yelp, drawing the attention of other diners. She dropped her voice to a furious whisper. “You were working for Alexander goddamn Stikes?”
“I told Edward the same thing I’m going to tell you,” said Larry, bristling. “He was just a client who asked me to arrange the shipping of some goods on behalf of
his
clients. His company was a legitimate British business, and none of the goods were illegal or on any international watch lists. So I did nothing wrong.” He slapped both hands down on the table for emphasis.
“Nothing.”
Nina was already putting the pieces together, and not liking the picture they formed. “And these clients of his: They wouldn’t have been General Salbatore Callas and Francisco de Quesada, would they?”
The answer emerged with considerable reluctance. “Yes.”
“A murderer who tried to overthrow the Venezuelan president, and a drug lord?”
“What they do for a living isn’t my business,” Larry protested. “Do postmen carry out background checks before they give someone their mail?”
“Postmen don’t pick and choose who they deliver to,” Nina countered. “You do.” She thought for a moment, still fuming. “I didn’t know about any of this—but Eddie must have, before he saw you in Bogotá. What happened?”
The waiter reappeared. “Not now,” Larry snapped before continuing with bad grace: “All right, yes, I made a delivery to de Quesada in Colombia.”
“Let me guess,” Nina cut in. “Two Incan artifacts, one of which was made of solid gold and weighed about two tons?”
“It was a hell of a job to transport, let me tell you,” said Larry almost with pride, before the glares of the two women reminded him to stick to the point. “But I made the delivery and de Quesada was impressed at how quickly I’d arranged everything, so I gave him my card in case he might put any future work my way. But I didn’t think any more of it—until Edward turned up at my hotel. With my business card. He threatened that if I didn’t give my entire fee to charity, he was going to turn the card—with my fingerprints on it, obviously—over toInterpol and have me implicated in whatever the hell was going on.”
“That would be murder, robbery, an attempted coup, and drug smuggling,” Nina reminded him. “Just to start with.”
“None of which had anything to do with me! But do you have any idea how much being accused of involvement in that sort of thing could damage my business? Obviously I was worried—and I don’t take threats lying down, especially not from my own son. So I called Stikes to see if there was anything he could do to fix the situation.”
“And … what? You told him that we were searching for El Dorado in Peru?”
A pause, Larry choosing his
pow!
Smacks me in the mouth.”
Nina raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Ranting? About what?”
“About some friend of his who’d died.”
“Do you mean Mac? Jim McCrimmon?”
“Yeah, him. He blamed me for it, for God knows what reason.”
She gave him a deeply suspicious look. “And why would Eddie do that? Was it anything to do with when he met you in Bogotá?”
Larry said nothing, but Julie rounded on him. “Wait, you met Eddie in Colombia? You didn’t tell me about that!”
“I’m sure I mentioned it,” Larry said uncomfortably.
Scowling, the blonde turned away from her husband to address Nina. “I’m trying to remember what Eddie said—I’m sorry, I was so surprised to see him, and the whole thing happened so fast, I didn’t really get it all. But he said …” Her frown deepened with the effort of mental dredging. “He said Larry talked to someone about you, about El Dorado—and then this guy turned up there.”
“Stikes?” Nina suggested.
“Yes, that’s it! Stikes.”
Now it was Nina’s turn to round on Larry. “You talked to
Stikes
? About me?”
“He was a client of mine,” Larry replied defensively.
“He was
what
?” The last word came out as an angry yelp, drawing the attention of other diners. She dropped her voice to a furious whisper. “You were working for Alexander goddamn Stikes?”
“I told Edward the same thing I’m going to tell you,” said Larry, bristling. “He was just a client who asked me to arrange the shipping of some goods on behalf of
his
clients. His company was a legitimate British business, and none of the goods were illegal or on any international watch lists. So I did nothing wrong.” He slapped both hands down on the table for emphasis.
“Nothing.”
Nina was already putting the pieces together, and not liking the picture they formed. “And these clients of his: They wouldn’t have been General Salbatore Callas and Francisco de Quesada, would they?”
The answer emerged with considerable reluctance. “Yes.”
“A murderer who tried to overthrow the Venezuelan president, and a drug lord?”
“What they do for a living isn’t my business,” Larry protested. “Do postmen carry out background checks before they give someone their mail?”
“Postmen don’t pick and choose who they deliver to,” Nina countered. “You do.” She thought for a moment, still fuming. “I didn’t know about any of this—but Eddie must have, before he saw you in Bogotá. What happened?”
The waiter reappeared. “Not now,” Larry snapped before continuing with bad grace: “All right, yes, I made a delivery to de Quesada in Colombia.”
“Let me guess,” Nina cut in. “Two Incan artifacts, one of which was made of solid gold and weighed about two tons?”
“It was a hell of a job to transport, let me tell you,” said Larry almost with pride, before the glares of the two women reminded him to stick to the point. “But I made the delivery and de Quesada was impressed at how quickly I’d arranged everything, so I gave him my card in case he might put any future work my way. But I didn’t think any more of it—until Edward turned up at my hotel. With my business card. He threatened that if I didn’t give my entire fee to charity, he was going to turn the card—with my fingerprints on it, obviously—over toInterpol and have me implicated in whatever the hell was going on.”
“That would be murder, robbery, an attempted coup, and drug smuggling,” Nina reminded him. “Just to start with.”
“None of which had anything to do with me! But do you have any idea how much being accused of involvement in that sort of thing could damage my business? Obviously I was worried—and I don’t take threats lying down, especially not from my own son. So I called Stikes to see if there was anything he could do to fix the situation.”
“And … what? You told him that we were searching for El Dorado in Peru?”
A pause, Larry choosing his