a failed marriage. Each of those, as you know by now, comes with its own set of problems.’
Kyra slipped her arm into McCabe’s and moved her body closer to his. He leaned down, pulled her in, and kissed her. She kissed him back. Then, arm in arm, they walked back toward the apartment, marveling, as they always did, at the beauty of the bay and the glory of the sunrise that turned all the clouds pink.
26
Boca Raton, Florida
Tuesday. 2:00 P.M.
Vanessa Redmond sat with her back to the wall at a corner table in the lobby bar at the Boca Raton Club and Resorts, which, at two o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, was nearly empty. She was dressed casually in a lime green silk shirt and white linen pants. An attractive woman, she’d never bothered to color her naturally gray hair. Her right hand fidgeted with the clasp of a gold Baume and Mercier wristwatch. The only other jewelry she wore was a thin chain around her neck, supporting a gold Elsa Peretti heart, and two small diamond stud earrings. Her makeup was simple and understated. Though she seldom drank much at any time, and never in the afternoon, she ordered a cosmopolitan, hoping the alcohol might calm her anxiety. The man was late. She wasn’t accustomed to being kept waiting, and she didn’t like sitting by herself in a bar. She picked up her cell phone, thinking she’d check the messages at the house to see if he’d called. Then she closed it, deciding to give him another ten minutes. She sipped the drink.
A man, tall, with broad shoulders and deep-set eyes, entered the room. He wore a well-cut blue blazer over a yellow Izod polo shirt and tan trousers. Glancing in her direction, he walked to her table.
‘Mrs. Redmond?’
‘Ms. Redmond,’ she said. ‘John Redmond is my father. My first name is Vanessa.’
‘You never married?’ he asked, taking the seat opposite hers.
‘No. What is your name?’
‘Harry. Harry Lime.’
‘I don’t suppose that’s your real name?’
‘No. My real name is irrelevant.’
‘You’re late, by the way, Harry Lime.’
‘That, too, is irrelevant.’
‘Why did you want to meet?’
‘I don’t want to talk in here. There’s a jogging path that winds around the property. We can walk there and talk. Did you only have the one drink?’
‘Yes,’ she said. He took out a twenty-dollar bill and placed it on the table. He pulled out the table to ease her exit. She rose and walked out of the bar first. He followed her to the front door of the hotel, and they went together out into the heat of a late summer afternoon.
They walked down the path, away from the central part of the hotel.
‘You’re not wearing any recording devices, are you?’ he asked.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, don’t be ridiculous,’ she said, irritation rising in her voice.
‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to check. May I have your bag?’ Sighing deeply, she handed him her small Hermes shoulder bag. He opened the snaps and rummaged through it. Finding no wire, he handed it back.
‘Now I want you to put your arms around my neck and press against me as if we were embracing. I have to check your body.’
‘The bloody hell I will,’ she snapped. ‘Who do you think you’re talking to?’
‘I know exactly who you are, Ms. Redmond. I know exactly who your father is and what his condition is. I know he was turned down for six different transplant programs because of his age. I know you want him to live. Which means I’m your only option. If you’d rather not proceed, that’s your choice. We can conclude our business and I’ll be on my way.’
‘And my father will die?’
‘Yes, your father will die. Then again, everyone dies. It’s only a question of when. Besides, look on the bright side. You’ll inherit a great deal of money.’
‘I already have more money than I’ll ever need. Strange as it may seem to someone like you, I love my father.’
‘Is that why you never married?’
She didn’t answer. She simply turned toward him and, looking up into his face without emotion, placed her arms around his neck and pressed herself, like a lover, into his body. She could feel the bulge of a holster and gun under his jacket as he ran his hands over her in a feigned caress, up and down, back and front.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ she whispered.
‘Not really,’ he said. ‘You’re not my type.’ Apparently satisfied she wasn’t wearing a recording device, he added, ‘Okay, you can let go now.’
They turned and started walking again down the path. The hotel was to their right, and the vivid green of the golf course fairways lay both to their left and in front of them.
‘What did you want to tell me?’ She began the conversation.
‘We have a healthy heart,’ he said. ‘Right blood type. Tissue is compatible. The donor is brain dead. Currently on life support.’
‘Who is the donor?’
‘An accident victim. The precise identity does not concern you. Does your father still want to go through with this? At his age there’s no more than a fifty-fifty chance he’ll survive even one year, and there’s an excellent chance he won’t survive the surgery.’
‘I understand that,’ she said. ‘He understands that. But without the surgery he won’t last more than another month or two. He’s a tough old man, and he wants to live. He thinks this will give him a shot. If that’s what he wants, that’s what I want.’
‘The procedure will cost five million dollars. In advance.’
‘That’s a lot of money.’
‘According to our sources, your father’s net worth is more than a billion. For the gift of life, for someone like him, five million dollars is pocket change. In any event, that’s the deal. Take it or leave it.’
‘Who is the surgeon? Is he capable? Competent?’
‘More than competent. One of the best. However, for obvious reasons, I can’t tell you who he is. Now, do you want to proceed?’
‘Yes. It seems I have no choice.’
‘Very well. From this point on there’s no turning back.’ Harry Lime handed her a slip of paper. ‘This is the routing number and account number at a private bank in Zurich. First thing tomorrow morning, I want you to wire five million dollars to this account. Then I want you to burn this note. When I receive confirmation from the bank that the funds have arrived, they will be withdrawn, the account closed, and the money placed in another untraceable account. When that has been accomplished, I’ll get in touch with you to arrange delivery of your father to the surgery site.’
‘Where is the surgery site?’
‘All I will tell you is that it’s in the United States. No passport required. When you are contacted, you will arrange a private ambulance to bring your father to a small airport to be named later. A private plane will pick him up. There will be a pilot, a doctor, and a nurse specializing in cardiac care on board. Other than these, he will travel alone.’
‘I want to go with him. Since my mother died, I’m the only one who really cares about him.’
‘I’m sorry, Ms. Redmond, that will not be possible. He will travel alone. During the trip a sedative will be administered to put him to sleep. He won’t be told where he’s going. An ambulance will meet him at the other end and transport him to the surgery site. The operation will take place as soon as medically feasible. When he is able, he will return home, hopefully in three or four days. He will travel home in exactly the same manner. We will arrange for a nurse to care for him at home and administer antirejection drugs as they are needed.’
