'You may assume anything you like. But I am not the man.'
Then a cabinet in the back wall of the plane opened up and a TV screen appeared. On it was a man whose face was largely shadowed. He had a beard, but it was difficult to make out features.
'Please put on your headphones,' said the man on the far side of the curtain. On the arms of their chair were large headphones with a microphone, the sort of headset that a pilot might wear.
'I am Gaudet,' said the man on the screen in another electronic voice speaking into the headphones. 'I am pleased to meet you. I regret that I can't join you, but I'm not particularly fond of airplanes. I merely tolerate them and I wouldn't actually put myself inside a heavily secured area like an airport for a meeting.'
'Just out of curiosity, why the burka?'
'She is an intermediary between myself and the Swiss es crow company where we will do business if we make a deal. I understand from Benoit that the escrow is a must. Like me, my intermediary prefers not to be known and not to be photographed.'
Baptiste figured it was either an escrow agent or a trusted lieutenant of Gaudet's. The rest were no doubt contract mer cenaries.
'Let's get down to business,' Baptiste said as they shot down the runway for takeoff.
And so the negotiations began. First it was peripheral mat ters and the bragging by each side of all that they were bring ing to the table. They talked about the financial terms and there was haggling, but the end result was much as Benoit had suggested. A $200,000,000 purchase by France, with a kickback to everyone on Baptiste's team of $5,000,000 in cash. They agreed on how exactly they would communicate with the escrow company, security codes for the communications, and other related matters. An additional $5,000,000 in cash was to go to the Eviral Trust and various other trusts and corporations as dictated by Gaudet. For some reason Gaudet found some humor in the dispersal, but it escaped Baptiste.
'There are two more matters,' Baptiste finally said. 'We have heard that Benoit, acting through you, may be able to deliver copies of Bowden's 1998 journals to the French government. You will need to speak with Benoit about that. We realize that there is no guarantee for the French government that Chaperone is in those journals, but circumstantial evidence suggests it may be.'
'Hmm. I am envious. How did you manage to pull off getting the journals?'
'That would be Benoit's doing. Take it up with her. You should get some additional money from the French government and we should get half.'
'You're greedy bastards. You blame the theft on me and get half the money.'
'Much will already be blamed on you… what is one more thing?'
Gaudet actually chuckled.
'The second issue is that Cordyceps must not come too quickly after delivery of Chaperone.'
'Five days,' Gaudet said.
'That is very fast,' Baptiste said.
'That is all you get. I can't wait around. As it is, my in vestors won't like it. When Chaperone and related documents, including Bowden documents and all vector technology doc uments, are in escrow, you will have five days' notice of Cordyceps.'
'What if we need time to authenticate before closing?'
'You do that on your own clock. My five-day clock starts running when I have everything you're buying in escrow. If we and Benoit working together take too long getting Chaperone into escrow, then we will so notify you and the deal is off.'
'But we have no control over that.'
'How right you are. But you don't have to spend your money if we don't deliver the product. And that, gentlemen, concludes our business.'
Chapter 14
A hungry man will risk a bad oyster.
'There goes our boy Figgy,' Sam said to Jill on the cell phone. Sam was sitting in an FBO at Teterboro next door to the establishment hosting the Citation X. Sam doubted that Gaudet would be on the plane despite the intercepted mes sages that called for a 'meeting.' There had been what looked to be a woman in a burka and Sam's mind was churn ing over who it might have been. Gaudet? Doubtful. Again, he would not likely be present.
The question he couldn't answer was what they might be discussing. It had an ominous feel to it. When the plane taxied toward the runway, he engaged an entire group on a conference call. On the call were several private detectives, Grogg, and others on Sam's staff.
'How was the picture?' Sam asked.
'Better than CNN,' Grogg said. 'Great show.'
'Anybody get anything while they were sitting at the FBO?'
'Nothing. They talked about airplanes.'
'Who was under the burka?' Sam asked.
One of the private eyes spoke up. 'It was a hundred feet from the Bonanza to the Citation. He or she took fifty steps to cover it. By the stride, I'd say it was a woman. He or she put out a hand when she climbed the stairs. Woman-size hand, although it was gloved. Height we guess at five feet eight inches. He or she is accustomed to airplanes because he or she didn't hesitate for even a second as would someone unfamiliar with private jets. But he or she is not accustomed to the burka because he or she slightly misjudged the added height and just touched the header on the entryway to the jet. We got just a glimpse of the shoes as he or she climbed the steps. They were upscale and they were female-size feet. So we think it's a she and not a he.'
'Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but that could bring it down to a few thousand since not many woman with nice shoes and a normal build are used to climbing in and out of private jets. Assuming, of course, we're right about the jets,' Grogg said.
'Did anyone notice the fingers of her right hand?' Sam asked.
There was silence.
'Play the tape again.' Everyone watched. Sticking down out of one sleeve were the gloved fingers of a hand. They moved like cilia on a sea creature but very slowly.
'Get a signer who knows signing for the deaf.'
'That won't take long; we have someone,' Jill said. While he waited, Sam used his cell to call people in the flight con trol center tracking the jet. It was headed for Martha's Vineyard. Then Jill came back on.
'Got it. You won't believe it. She signed STOGETH- ERBM and I would take that to mean 'Sam together Benoit Moreau.' '
'Resourceful,' Sam said. 'In more ways than one. She's out of jail and in the U.S.? What game are the French playing?'
'Figures one of the French is wired into the deal, probably illicitly,' Jill said.
Grogg added the punctuation: 'Surprise, surprise, surprise.'
Sam found Michael and Grady in a booth at a tavern in Gramercy Park nearby the bed amp; breakfast, apparently having sat with their beers for some time. There were six bodyguards spread around the place and their roving eyes created an odd sensation, but it didn't seem to interfere with busi ness. Grady had taken Anna's tragedy hard, but she was weathering it in the presence of the strong calm that was Michael Bowden. It had been two days since the airport incident and Figgie hadn't said a word.
'You've got to get out of New York,' Sam said to Michael, not in the mood for circumlocutions.
'What are you thinking?' Bowden asked.
The words didn't contain attitude, but Sam thought the tone did. 'Look what they've done to try to get those journals. Gaudet has almost killed you, Grady, me, and Anna. What more do you need to see?'
'I know the whys. Why I should run. Why Gaudet wants me. What I don't know is what you're suggesting. I
