Follow the Evidence (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 2) (25 page)

“Would you like wine with dinner? I
can recommend several…”

“I’d like a Cabernet. Do you have
Chateau Helena Estate?”

“I’ll check with our maître d’.
You’d like that with your main course, of course?”

“Of course,” I replied.

“Another cocktail?” Ashley asked.

“Sure,” I replied. I had to keep my
head clear, but seeing Randi with Sebastian...

“I’ll put this in for you. Let me
know if you need anything,” Ashley said as she scurried away again. I noticed
she stopped at Sebastian’s table and took his ordered too.

Ashley brought my steak and my
bottle of cabernet. She made a production out of opening the wine, but Randi
still wasn’t looking my way. The magical ritual ended with the popping of the
cork. Ashley put the cork on the table for me to examine. She poured a small
amount into my glass. I sniffed the cork and gave a grunt of approval. I picked
up the glass, swirled the dark red wine and holding the glass by its base took
a sip. I tried to look like I knew what I was doing. The wine wasn’t worth six
hundred a bottle that was for damn sure.

My New York strip was perfection,
juicy, tender, and full of flavor. I ate slowly, savoring each bite. St. John
appeared at Sebastian’s table and delivered the bad news about the wine.

From two tables away I heard
Sebastian shout, “What-you damn fool. Who-who did you give my wine? The Chateau
Helena Estate was mine.”

Chateau Helena Estate, I had my
cue.

“I’m sure I can obtain another
bottle, sir. If you can come back tomorrow, I can…” St. John said.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow-what is wrong
with you?” Sebastian shouted.

“Yes, sir I know. It’s entirely my
fault. The Chateau Helena Estate went to another gentleman. I couldn’t have
anticipated two patrons requesting...”

St. John was earning every penny
and playing his part perfectly. All the other diners were watching. I got up
and headed for the argument, my wine glass in one hand, and the bottle in the
other. I had to make a decision.

“Pardon me, I’m Ralph Lawless. I
couldn't help overhearing what you said. I ordered the Chateau Helena Estate. I
had no idea you had arranged for it in advance. My apologies. It’d be my
pleasure if you’d accept it,” I said placing the bottle on the table. “I’ve
only had this one glass.”

Sebastian was surprised. A little
normal color came to his reddened face.

“That's generous, but I couldn't
deprive you.”

All the bluster was suddenly gone as
he stared at the overpriced wine. Munoz sat befuddled, but more importantly, he
hadn’t recognized me. I waved away Sebastian’s concern.

“Will you join me, Mr. Lawless?”
Sebastian said.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t impose,”
I replied.

“Nonsense, I insist,” Sebastian
said. “My associate and I were discussing business, but had to leave. Join me,
Mr. Lawless?”

“If you insist and it’s not too
much trouble,” I said.

“I do insist,” Sebastian said.

I took a seat across from my new
host as Munoz left without a word.

Turning to St. John, Sebastian
said, “Bring Mr. Lawless’ meal and put it on my check.”

“Yes, sir,” St. John said.

“When we finish this,” he pointed
to the open bottle, “bring us your best Cabernet. I don’t expect to see it on
the bill.”

“Yes, sir,” St. John said. He
turned and disappeared toward the bar.

“Thank you, Mr. Sebastian. You
didn’t have to do that,” I said.

He waved away my concern and said,
“Kindness for kindness, Mr. Lawless.” He leaned toward me. I caught the sickly
unpleasant odor of the man.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m
Diego Sebastian. I run modest coffee processing plants in Central America.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said as I
took a sip of bitter overpriced wine.

“Tell me about yourself,
Lawless-where have I heard that name?”

His body language told me a
different story. He knew exactly who Lawless was.

“I don’t know that you have heard
my name,” I said. “Wouldn’t say I’m well known.”

“What do you do?” Sebastian said.

“I work for the government in
Bermuda,” I replied.

“I know some people in Bermuda,” he
said. “Where do you work?”

“I’m at the Bermuda Financial
Intelligence. It’s not very interesting.” I said.

“On the contrary, it fascinating,”
Sebastian replied. “You don’t sound as if you are from Bermuda.”

“I was raised in Miami,” I replied.

“That explains it-still, your name
is familiar.”

“We can save time,” I said. “I was
accused of misappropriation by the bank where I worked in Miami. It was all a
misunderstanding and a long time ago.”

“I see,” Sebastian said.

Ashley interrupted to bring my
steak and to serve Sebastian’s meal. When she was gone, Sebastian lowered his
voice and said, “I like a man who talks straight. I try to do the same. Let’s
get to know each other a bit. After dinner perhaps we can work out an
arrangement.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” I
replied.

We’d been chatting and eating for a
while. I’d been lying and Sebastian sounded like he was buying. He reached to
pour me more wine-our second bottle.

“You have it,” I said. “I’m not as
excited about the wine as you.”

“You’re a well spoken, cautious
man, Mr. Lawless. I like that,” he said. His brow furrowed. His hooded eyes
narrowed. He was suspicious or maybe he was just being cautious.

“A man should know when to say
‘when’,” I replied.

“If a man has to be careful not to
drink too much he's not to be trusted when he does,” Sebastian said as he
raised his glass in a toast. “Let’s retire to my suite. I have something to
discuss with you.”

“Suits, me,” I said.

“Not curious about what I want, Mr.
Lawless?”

“Curious, but you’ll tell me when
you’re ready,” I replied. “It wouldn’t be polite to rush things. You’re buying,
after all.”

“You're a close-mouthed man, Mr.
Lawless,” he chuckled.

“No, I like to talk. I save it for
when I have something to say.”

“Well said, I distrust a
close-mouthed man. He generally picks the wrong time and says the wrong things,
but you-you interest me.”

He tipped his head to the side
while he held me in his laser-focused gaze. He was trying to size me up. He
stroked the front of his neck then ran his hand through his thick silver hair.

“We can talk right here,” I said.

“I like plain speaking-coming to
the point, but not where there are so many ears,” he said looking about with
darting eyes. “Will you come to my suite for a drink?”

“What about your friend and the
lady I saw you with earlier?”

“Lazlo-he’s no friend, just a
former
employee. I told him to get lost. As for the lady, well perhaps I’ll see her
again, but not tonight. No, it will be just the two of us,” he replied.

“Have it your way.”

“Shall we go?” he said.

Sebastian settled with Martin St.
John and promised to return before he left at the end of the week. St. John
didn’t give me a second look as my mark and I headed for the door. We slowly
made our way to suite 3457.

My room was plush, but Sebastian’s
suite was the Taj Mahal in comparison. A bright marble entry led to a living
room bigger than my suite of offices. Plush leather furniture in blacks and
grays sucked you into the room as it wrapped its arms around you. I was gawking
and Sebastian caught me.

“Do you like my little home away
from home?”

I nodded.

“I stay here whenever I’m in town.
It’s…well it’s comfortable. There are three bedrooms, a small kitchen-as if I’d
use a kitchen. This room is nice. There is a small projection theater through
there,” he said pointing to the right. “I don’t use it though. I don’t care
much for movies. I like this room, don’t you? It’s…”

“Comfortable?” I asked. My inner
smart ass was coming out.

“This place will suffice,” he said
with a half smile.

“You have room for the buffalo to
roam if you want them too,” I said.

“Now I know you’re an American,” he
chuckled. “Make yourself at home.” He turned toward a small bar in the corner. “Care
for a drink Mr. Lawless-if that’s your name,” Sebastian said as he draped his
suit coat across the bar. His shirt hung loose on him. I guessed it was cancer.
A sudden surge of anxiety obliterated any curiosity about Sebastian’s
condition. He was more than a little suspicious.

“If that’s who I am? I don’t
understand.” I said fighting the urge to bite my lip.

“Oh you’re very good I must admit,”
he said casually, “you may even have met Ralph Lawless, if he exists, but
you’ve been too careful with your words. Your plan to meet me was…contrived,
clever, but contrived. I’m sure you paid dearly. Let me guess, you floated a
story about a vulnerable, dissatisfied money-laundering expert so it would
drift to my ears. It’s all too conventional, all too neat. The question is
why.”

“Why what?” I said. My hands were
sweating. I could feel my respiration increase as my anxiety rose.

“You can drop the pretense. You’re
here and you want something, so tell me what it is,” he said pouring a dram of
scotch. “It was the maître d’, naturally.”

Naturally,” I replied. I was too
smart for my own good. The damn plan hadn’t worked in Iraq either. I hadn’t
fooled the old man for a second, yet I was still alive. “So where do we go from
here?” I said. “Did you invite you associate over to drop me in an alligator
pond?”

“Oh, nothing as melodramatic as
that, Mr.…what
is
your name?”

“Everett-Mac Everett.”

“FBI, INTERPOL?” he asked.

“Nothing as melodramatic as that,”
I said as I edged my way closer to the door. Maybe I could make a run for it.
“I’m just a local PI,” I replied.

“You went to a lot of trouble to
meet me. Ah, don’t leave before you have that drink,” he said. He waved at me
and I moved away from the hall.

“I think I need it,” I replied.

“What will you have? The place is
well stocked,” he said.

“Whatever you’re having, shall we
talk turkey, like before?” I asked.

“Yes, plain speaking,” he said.

He poured another double scotch,
walked toward me, and handed me the drink.

“You look like you can use that,”
he said as he dropped into a plush chair.

“So do you. What is it, cancer?” I
asked.
The worst he can do is kill me.

“Prostate cancer-advanced and
terminal, I have less than a year,” he said. His matter of fact tone shouldn’t
have surprised me, but it did.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I
replied.

“That’s polite, but you don’t give
a damn. When I’m gone I’ll be just one more smuggler dead.”

He had me there. That was exactly
what I’d thought.

“Take a seat. What shall we talk
about,” he said.

“Oh I don’t know, how about
kidnapping and sex slaves?”

“Yes, that,” he said. He crossed
his arms and legs while he narrowed his stare. That expressive brow scrunched
again. “Right to the point, good for you, Mr. Everett, let's talk about that.
First, tell me what you think you know.”

“That’s quite a tale and you may
not like some of it,” I replied. “Are you sure…”

“It has to be said sometime,” he
replied. “Do you know who I am? What I do?

“I have some idea,” I said.

He laughed, throwing his head back,
then began to cough. It took him a few moments to catch his breath, and then he
began again.

“You have
no
idea,” he said
wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. “I own governments. I move hundreds of
millions of dollars in a half dozen counties. Your own government wants me. I
do things and…sometimes I have to eliminate people. I know the value in human
life because I have taken it. I live by a code. I have honor. Sometimes
I…sometimes…”

He was lost in his thoughts. His
eyes took on a faraway look.

“It’s foolish, sentimental really,
but I value human life,” his voice was lower, just above a whisper, “and I
value women in particular.”

“You deal in death,” I said.

He laughed again. “We all have to
die sometime. My time is at hand. That’s what makes…”

“What are you going to do with me?”
I asked.

It was as if he hadn’t heard. He
just kept talking. The sorrow in his eyes nearly made me feel sorry for him.

“Do you want to know how it began?
I blame myself. I gave my son a life of privilege. He had the best education. I
raised him to be respectful. He knew when it came time he would take over the
business. He’s impatient, idle, and disrespectful. He’s become spoiled,
selfish, and self-indulgent. He travels, spends money like water, and goes to
wild parties with people he hardly knows. He’s useless-and ruthless, everything
I didn’t want him to become.”

I didn’t know what to make of him.
He was admitting the whole thing by painting a picture of his spoiled son.

“He’s set up an abduction network
spanning…”

“Several countries, I know, and now
he’s here,” Sebastian said.

“What he’s doing…he has to be
stopped.”

“He steals women off the street and
sells them,” he said. “He has no honor. I’ve failed.”

“You came here to conceal what he’s
done,” I said. “Questioning your distributors, checking up on Munoz-you want to
shut it down and cover it up.”

“You know quite a bit about this,”
he replied. “Everybody has something to conceal.”

“I don’t care about your son,
Sebastian. I want my friend back, alive and if she’s not…”

“I don’t know about this,” he said.

“You do and you want to do the
right thing,” I said. “My guess is that woman filled you tonight. Now you can
tell me about it.”

“No,” he shouted as he sat up in
his chair, “I can have you…”