“We’re hiring Dracco?”
“And his plane,” I added, my stomach getting queasy at the thought of flying. “As much as I hate to say it, we’re taking to the sky, Ginny.”
“You have forty thousand dollars?”
“Yes I do.”
“On you?”
“On me.”
“Wow. Okay, where are we going?”
“California.” I picked up the telephone receiver.
Ginny sidled up to me, looking anxiously around her. “What about Gibraltar?”
“Another excellent reason to get out of here,” I said. “Beckett and his bunch will be after us as soon as they come to, which is going to be sooner than we’d like.”
I was suddenly aware of how close our bodies were to each other, how her musky scent drew me in. I needed clarity, not inebriation.
“But they could be good guys,” Ginny argued.
“What?” I said, snapping out of it. “I thought we went over this.”
More police sirens Dopplered by us, heading for the bus scene.
“I’m dialing now,” I told her. “I’m booking the flight nonstop to L.A. It’s the same fare for one as for two.” Ginny slapped me on the shoulder as Dracco’s gruff voice answered,
He told us to meet him in an hour at Linate Airport in his private hangar. Forty G’s American, two passengers.
Ginny and I made our way back to the Four Seasons, where we changed and gathered our clothes, which had obviously been rifled through by Mobright. As I’d suspected, my key-on-the-windowledge trick had worked. I thanked God and my high-school physics teacher. Retrieving Leonardo and the sundries from the vault, we were off.
Dracco was where he said he’d be. A swarthy, muscular man with a huge handlebar mustache, he wore what looked like an Armani pilot’s suit and mirrored aviator sunglasses.
I showed him the business card, which he glanced at and handed back to me. “Tell me about the guy who wrote your name on that card.”
Dracco smiled devilishly, revealing a gold canine tooth. “Relax,” he said. “There’s an old saying that everyone can keep a secret, it’s the people they tell who can’t. Only the first part applies to me. That means you don’t find out who gave her the card and nobody else finds out I took you to Tinseltown. Now show me some cash. I’m a busy man.”
I forked over the money. Dracco counted it, stating matter-of-factly that he had filed a phony flight plan, the jet was fueled, there was plenty of food and drinks, and we had nothing to worry about.
I could feel my hands begin to shake. Stuffing them in my pockets, I followed Dracco and Ginny onto the plane. He told us to enjoy the flight, then stepped up front and closed the pilot’s door. Ginny and I strapped ourselves into the luxurious leather seats. Within five minutes we were airborne. Within six, Ginny was dissecting me with her stare.
“What are you doing there, balling your fists in your pockets?” she prodded. “Are you cold?”
“Shouldn’t you start translating now or do you puke on planes, too?”
She crossed her legs, waited.
“Look,” I said. “I don’t like flying. That’s all.”
“That’s obvious. Why not?”
“Ginny,” I pleaded. “Leaves catch fire when you put them under a magnifying glass.”
“That’s an interesting reference,” she said. “All right, we’ll change subjects. Who’s dear old Mona?”
I looked out the window at the dwindling city below.
“Mona was Martha Belle Tucker’s best friend.”
“Who’s Martha Belle Tucker?”
“I knew it. After the fire there’d been no one to take me, so—”
“No one?” Ginny interrupted. “No aunts or uncles?”
“One uncle on my mother’s side. Dell. And he didn’t want any part of me.”
“Why not?”
“The only thing I knew about him was what my mother had told me. That he was a wild kid, had run away from home at sixteen or so to race cars, which hadn’t panned out, so he became a truck driver—a rambling man. My mother hadn’t seen him in years. Anyway, when they dug Dell up, he wasn’t . . .”
“Interested in rambling with an eleven-year-old.”
“No.”
“That must have felt terrible, to be unwanted.”
