brains constantly for some way of foiling Luther’s plan, but everything he came up with had the same snag: Carol- Ann. If Luther did not get Gordino, Eddie would not get Carol-Ann.
He had tried to think of some way to ensure that Gordino would get caught twenty-four hours later, when Carol-Ann was safe; but it was impossible. Gordino would be far away by then. The only alternative was to persuade Luther to surrender Carol-Ann earlier, and he had more sense than to agree to that. The trouble was, Eddie had nothing with which to threaten Luther. Luther had Carol-Ann, and Eddie had ...
Well, he thought suddenly, I’ve got Gordino.
Wait a minute.
They’ve got Carol-Ann, and I can’t get her back without cooperating with them. But Gordino is on this plane, and they can’t get him back unless they cooperate with me. Maybe they don’t hold all the cards.
He wondered whether there was a way for him to take charge, seize the initiative.
He stared blindly at the opposite wall, holding on tight, lost in thought.
There was a way.
Why should they get Gordino first? An exchange of hostages should be simultaneous.
He fought down surging hope and forced himself to think coolly.
How would the exchange work? They would have to bring Carol-Ann to the Clipper on the launch that would take Gordino away.
Why not?
He wondered frantically whether it could be arranged in time. He had calculated that she was being held no more than sixty or seventy miles from their home, which in turn was about seventy miles from the location of the emergency splashdown. At worst, then, she was four hours’ drive away. Was that too far?
Suppose Tom Luther agreed. His first chance to call his men would come at the next stop, Botwood, where the Clipper was due at nine a.m. British time. After that the plane went on to Shediac. The unscheduled splashdown would take place an hour out of Shediac, at about four p.m. British time, seven hours later. The gang could get Carol-Ann there with a couple of hours to spare.
Eddie could hardly contain his excitement as he contemplated the prospect of getting Carol-Ann back earlier. It also occurred to him that it might give him a chance, albeit slender, of doing something to spoil Luther’s rescue. And that might redeem him, in the eyes of the rest of the crew. They might forgive his treachery to them if they saw him catch a bunch of murdering gangsters.
Once again he told himself not to raise his hopes. All this was only an idea. Luther probably would not buy the deal. Eddie could threaten not to bring the plane down unless they met his terms; but they might see that as an empty threat. They would reckon that Eddie would do anything to save his wife, and they would be right. They were only trying to save a buddy. Eddie was more desperate, and that made him weaker, he thought; and he plunged once more into despair.
But still he would be presenting Luther with a problem, creating a doubt and a worry in the man’s mind. Luther might not believe Eddie’s threat, but how could he be sure? It would take guts to call Eddie’s bluff, and Luther was not a brave man, at least not right now.
Anyway, he thought, what do I have to lose? He would give it a try.
He got up from his bunk.
He thought he probably should plan the whole conversation carefully, preparing his answers to Luther’s objections; but he was already screwed up to screaming pitch and he could not sit still and think any longer. He had to do it or go mad.
Holding on to anything he could grab, he picked his way along the rocking, swaying plane to the main lounge.
Luther was one of the passengers who had not gone to bed. He was in a comer of the lounge, drinking whiskey, but not joining in the card game. The color had returned to his face, and he appeared to have got over his nausea. He was reading
Luther looked anxious. He sat still for a moment. Eddie beckoned him with a peremptory jerk of the head. Luther put down his magazine, unfastened his seat belt and stood up.
Eddie led him out of the lounge and through number 2 compartment, but instead of going up to the flight deck he opened the door of the men’s room and held it for Luther.
There was a faint smell of vomit. Unfortunately, they were not alone: a passenger in pajamas was washing his hands. Eddie pointed to the toilet and Luther went inside while Eddie combed his hair and waited. After a few moments the passenger left. Eddie tapped on the cubicle door and Luther came out. “What the hell is going on?” he said.
“Shut your mouth and listen,” Eddie said. He had not planned to be aggressive, but Luther just made him mad. “I know what you’re here for. I’ve figured out your plan, and I’m making a change. When I bring this plane down, Carol-Ann has to be on the boat waiting.”
Luther was scornful. “You can’t make demands.”
Eddie had not expected him to cave in immediately. Now he had to bluff. “Okay,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster. “The deal is off.”
Luther looked a little worried, but he said: “You’re full of shit. You want your little wife back. You’ll bring down this plane.”
It was the truth, but Eddie shook his head. “I don’t trust you,” he said. “Why should I? I could do everything you want and you could double-cross me. I’m not going to take that chance. I want a new deal.”
Luther’s confidence was not yet shaken. “No new deal.”
“Okay.” It was time for Eddie to play his trump card. “Okay, so you go to jail.”
Luther laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?”
Eddie felt a little more confident: Luther was weakening. “I’ll tell the captain the whole thing. You’ll be taken off the plane at the next stop. The police will be waiting for you. You’ll go to jail—in Canada, where your hoodlum friends won’t be able to spring you. You’ll be charged with kidnapping, piracy—hell, Luther, you may never come out.”
At last Luther was rattled. “Everything’s set up,” he protested. “It’s too late to change the plan.”
“No, it’s not,” Eddie said. “You can call your people from the next stop and tell them what to do. They’ll have seven hours to get Carol-Ann on that launch. There’s time.”
Luther suddenly caved in. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Eddie did not believe him: the switch had been too quick. His instinct told him Luther had decided to double-cross him. “Tell them they have to call me at the last stop, Shediac, and confirm that they’ve made the arrangements.”
A look of anger passed briefly across Luther’s face, and Eddie knew his suspicion had been correct.
Eddie went on. “And when the launch meets the Clipper, I have to see Carol-Ann, on the deck of the boat, before I open the doors, you understand? If I don’t see her I’ll give the alarm. Ollis Field will grab you before you can open the door, and the Coast Guard will be here before your goons can break in. So you make sure this is done exactly right or you’re all dead.”
Luther got his nerve back suddenly. “You won’t do any of this,” he sneered. “You wouldn’t risk your wife’s life.”
Eddie tried to foster doubt. “Are you sure, Luther?”
It was not enough. Luther shook his head decisively. “You ain’t that crazy.”
Eddie knew he had to convince Luther right now. This was the moment of crisis. The word crazy gave him the inspiration he needed. “I’ll show you how crazy I am,” he said. He pushed Luther up against the wall next to the big square window. For a moment the man was too surprised to resist. “I’ll show you just how goddamn crazy I am.” He kicked Luther’s legs away with a sudden movement, and the man fell heavily to the floor. At that moment Eddie
