afternoon. The lively and bright Caribbean colors-vibrant reds, bright greens, crystal yellows and razor sharp blues-worn by the average man and woman mingled with the dull grays of the light weight suits worn by the office workers, lawyers and politicians, to give the crowd both a sober and a festive look.
She was shaken from her reverie by a light knock on the door, three rapid taps, two slow, Earl’s signal. She lay the rifle down and shut the blinds, shutting off the outside. The blinds were efficient. A little light squinted in from the sides, but none squeezed through. She’d always liked the dark, felt at home in it. She’d always been an observer and the dark of night helped her to merge into the background while she watched.
She raised herself from the chair and went to the door. She tapped lightly, one time, Earl tapped back twice and she opened it.
“ Rampersad’s on the roof. Alone,” Earl said.
“ Arrogant. He should have some officers with him.”
“ Dumber than dog shit.”
“ He thinks he’s a prince and he doesn’t want to share his princely perch,” she said.
“ Lucky for us.”
“ Unlucky for him.”
“ The name on the door, ‘Martel’s Magic,’ what’s that?” Earl asked.
“ Michael Martel the Magic Man. He manufactures magic tricks here in Trinidad. He exports all over the world. He also smuggles cocaine and launders money for the Salizar drug cartel,” she said.
“ How do you know that?” he asked.
“ Trinidad’s a small place, not many secrets.”
“ What about the cops?”
“ George owns the cops.”
“ Yeah, I forgot,” Earl said. She watched him as he digested what she’d said. She liked it when he put his mind to work. She could almost smell the electrical impulses snapping in his brain as he worked it over. Then he smiled and she knew he got it. “You’re sending a message to George Chandee. You’re saying, ‘Don’t fuck with me.’ I like it, but what about Martel?”
“ About now he’s listening to my father tell him why he can’t ship his tricks to the States duty free. Dad will keep him tied up for about another hour, then he’ll give in sometime after Martel agrees to contribute substantially to the president’s next campaign.”
“ How do you know they won’t finish early?”
“ If they do, they’ll celebrate over drinks till dinner. I’m supposed to be the hostess, we’re having Peking duck. The Magic Man likes Chinese.”
“ So the prime minister gets killed by the police chief, shooting from Martel’s window. Your friend George is gonna be one pissed off motherfucker.”
“ The money laundering operation will come to a standstill. It’ll only be a temporary setback but it’ll remind them that the Scorpion has a lethal stinger.”
“ An hour-and-a-half to go,” Earl said, looking at his watch. “I’m gonna go and grab myself a quick snack. You want me to bring you back something?”
“ No, I’m fine,” she said.
“ Okay, I’m outta here,” Earl said, and she went back to the Magic Man’s desk and sat in his plush swivel chair, resuming her vigil at the window, as Earl went out the door.
“ Are you okay?” Broxton asked.
“ I think so,” Maria said, gasping for breath. “Just got the wind knock out of me. Can you see the glass?” They were lying on their sides, his back against the bed.
“ Arm hurts, can you ease off it?” he said. Both their arms, his right and her left, were under her side. She arched her body and moved so that their arms were lying between them. He bit into his lower lip, against the pain. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he said.
“ Sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to get to the glass. I wasn’t thinking.”
“ It’s okay, I see it. I’m going to have to roll on top of you.”
“ Go,” she said, and when she was on her back he reached out and picked up the glass. He raised their hands and cracked the glass against the edge of the nightstand just like he’d crack an egg against a frying pan
“ Damn, cut myself,” he said, biting back more pain.
“ Where?” she said, turning, straining to see.
“ My hand.”
“ I see it,” she said, and now it was her turn to reach out their arms. She picked up a sharp piece of the glass. “If it sliced into you that easily it ought to slice through the tape.” They were slick with sweat as she brought her left hand through their bodies and sliced at the tape that bound their wrists together, and in seconds they each had an arm free. Then she handed him the glass and he cut through the tape binding their other arms. In a few more seconds they had the tape off their legs and were sitting on the floor, backs against the bed, panting heavily.
“ Want me to turn away?” Broxton said. Although they’d made love, they hadn’t really seen each other naked, and despite the situation, he was embarrassed.
“ Shit, that’s the last thing I care about,” she said, and she pushed herself to her feet using the bed for support.”
“ Can you help me up?” he asked.
“ Your arm’s swollen,” she said, taking his offered left hand and helping him up.
“ Thanks.” He looked at the clock, two-and-a-half hours till five, plenty of time.
“ I need a quick shower,” she said, but first I think I ought to splint and tape that arm, just in case it’s broken. She went to the closet, took down a wooden coat hanger, broke the tops off it and tossed them aside. “This might hurt,” she said. He nodded, sitting on the end of the bed as she used the bottom of the hanger as a splint, taping it to his arm with duct tape. He shivered when she pushed the wood hard against his forearm, but he didn’t cry out.
“ Doesn’t hurt as much.”
“ You’re lying,” she said.
“ You’re right, it hurts like hell, but you did a professional job. Were you a nurse in a past life?”
“ First aid training goes with the job. I’m going to take that shower now.”
“ Wait, I gotta use the head first.” He hustled into the bathroom and relieved himself, sighing as the pain in his bladder eased. Finished he headed toward the phone as Maria passed him on her way to the bathroom. But when he reached it he saw that it wasn’t unplugged, the line was cut. He heard the water go on and he looked around for a weapon in case Earl came back. He settled on a vase. He picked it up in his left hand, hefted it, then turned it over, spilling the flowers and water onto the rug. If Earl came back now, he’d get a face full of vase the second he entered the room.
The water in the bathroom stopped running and in seconds she was coming out the door, toweling off. “The sooner I’m out of here, the better,” she said.
“ Right,” he said. “The phone’s been cut. We’ll have to get to another one, but we’ve got plenty of time.”
She looked at the clock. “It’s stopped,” she said. He must have unplugged it when he cut the phone.
He whipped around and looked at the time. Two-thirty, about the time they’d come up to the room yesterday. “You’re right. I don’t know why I didn’t see it,” he said, as she was pulling on a clean pair of panties. She picked a watch up off the bureau. “Four-fifteen, you don’t have much time.”
“ Shit we have to hustle.”
“ Not me. I’ll be on the eight o’clock flight to Miami. Tomorrow I’ll be in Madrid. It’s been nice knowing you, Broxton, but I’m going.”
“ Don’t go,” he pleaded.
“ I’m sorry. I need my own life for awhile.”
“ I love you,” he said.
“ I believe you think you do, but it was your girl’s name you were moaning through that tape last night.”
“ Please,” he said.
