Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine 03/01/11 Page 3

  “The truth.” Luke shrugged. “You’re a customer, buying a boat. You don’t seem surprised they were here.”

  “Nor do you,” Deacon noted.

  “I was a soldier once, I’m used to unpleasant surprises.”

  “Unfortunately, so am I,” Aliana sighed. “I’ll take the craft as is, Mr. Falk. Under the circumstances, testing her is out of the question—”

  “Actually, it’s not,” Luke said quickly. “I have a motor launch moored beside the Penny. You can still put your boat through her paces, and your guys can tag along to keep an eye on things.”

  “I don’t like boats,” Deacon frowned.

  “Well, I do,” Aliana said firmly, “and I’ve come a long way to try this one. Have Ibrahim and Rakki follow us in the launch. I’m going sailing.”

  Scampering happily into the Penny, Aliana took the helm, while two of Deacon’s men fired up the outboard in the powerboat, rumbling along in the Penny’s wake.

  Still scowling, Deacon stood beside Gus’s lawn chair, arms folded, watching the two boats out on the bay.

  “Beautiful day for a sail,” Gus observed. “Warm, though. Especially in that monkey suit. Can I offer you a beer, Mr. Deacon?”

  “Thank you, no.”

  “Still working, huh? How about your guys? Hey, fellas?” he called to the guards at the corner of the boathouse. “Anybody feel like a beer?”

  “My men are from the Sudan,” Deacon said. “They don’t speak English.”

  “No kidding? How do they manage in this country?”

  “They don’t manage. I manage.”

  “Ah, I see.” Gus nodded. “So? How do you say ‘anybody want a cold beer’ in Sudanese?”

  “It’s better you don’t know that, Mr. Gus,” Deacon said, shaking his head. “I think you enjoy making mischief.”

  “I’m surprised you noticed me at all.”

  “Why?” Deacon asked.

  “In this country, when your hair goes gray and you walk a little slower, you start to disappear, a little bit more each day. People talk past you at first, then after a while they look right through you. Like you’re already halfway to being your own ghost. Is it like that where you’re from?”

  “Where I come from, it is well known that old lions are the most dangerous. As they near the end of their time, they lose the fear of dying. That is when they become man-killers.”

  “I’m no man-eater, son, and everything scares me. Especially you.”

  Deacon smiled broadly, showing canines that came to a point. “That’s not fear, Mr. Gus. That’s wisdom.”

  “Sure you won’t take that beer?” Gus prompted.

  Deacon eyed the old man curiously, his dark glasses and narrow jaw reinforcing his alien, predatory look. Gus met his gaze with utter innocence.

  “An old lion who loves mischief,” Deacon mused. “Be careful, Mr. Gus. That’s a very dangerous combination.”

  “I can’t believe how vast these waters are,” Aliana said, once she had the Penny past the breakers into the open. “It’s one thing to see the Great Lakes on a map, but out here? They’re not lakes at all, are they? They’re inland seas.”

  Luke nodded, watching her. “The largest bodies of fresh water in the world.”

  “But it’s all so . . . immense. Don’t you find it lonely here?”

  “More peaceful than lonely. And it’s not always empty. Next week is the Mackinac Regatta. Two hundred and fifty craft will pass the Point, sailboats scattered from here to the horizon, as far as you can see. Heading for the Straits and then on to Chicago.”

  “How far is that?”

  “The race is over six hundred miles, but for boatmen, there’s really no end to these waters. My grandfather says that up in Cree country, around Nipigon or Lac Seul, his people can travel upriver a thousand miles, to Hudson Bay or the Great Slave Lake, and never set foot on shore. Free of the land and all its troubles.”

  “Maybe that was true once, but nowadays, no one can hide. There are satellites above us that can count the freckles on the back of your hand.”

  “But why should they want to? Who are you, Aliana? Why are those feds dogging you?”

  “I’m truly not an important person, Mr. Falk, but . . .” She took a deep breath. “My father is an international arms merchant who deals in surplus munitions. He lives like a prince in Damascus, in a villa that once belonged to the Sultan of Oman. But the Arab world is stifling for a modern woman. I prefer to live in the West.”

  “Why all the bodyguards?”

  “I’m not a dilettante, Mr. Falk. We were not always rich. I have worked in my father’s business since I was a child. And please spare me the ‘merchants of death’ speech. Americans are our best customers.”

  “Lady, I’m the last guy on the planet who can criticize your trade. I’ve worked at it myself. But why are the feds so interested in you?”

  “Your government wants to make my father a double agent. But their track record in such matters is terrible. They would only get him killed. So he stays in Syria, a prisoner of his own success. And because I could be a valuable hostage to his enemies, I am always guarded.”

  “Seems to me you’re practically a prisoner yourself.”

  “Sometimes, it seems so to me, too,” she said with a wan smile. “But not today, out here on the water. I feel free here. Or I would if I didn’t have my two shadows along. It was very . . . considerate of you to provide my security people with a motor launch.”

  “I’m sure Deacon thinks so, too. But then, he doesn’t know much about boats, does he? For instance, in a light chop like this with a quartering breeze, the Penny’s one helluva lot faster than that dory. With a bit more sail she’ll rise on her outriggers and dance across the waves like a gull. If a person wanted to feel really free for a while, she could zip in amongst those offshore islands and disappear.”

  “You think?” Aliana asked, grinning as she cranked the mainmast winch, raising the sail another eighteen inches. The Penny responded like a quarter horse coming out of the gate, rising on her pontoons, scampering over the wave crests.

  “Oooh, look at her go,” Aliana cooed, enraptured by the speed. “She can almost fly.”

  Laughing like a schoolgirl, Aliana quickly left the powerboat far astern. The two bodyguards cranked the outboard motor wide open, but they only pounded the dory into the surf harder, soaking themselves with spray as the heavy craft plunged and bucked in the rough water.

  Nearing the south end of the cove, Aliana artfully guided the Penny in among a cluster of wooded islets. Green alder and cedar, cloaked with wild grapevines, quickly closed in on both sides of them like a forest curtain.

  Without thinking, Luke reached across and tugged her scarf loose. She shook her hair free, then glanced at him curiously.

  “Why did you do that? Was this a trick to get me alone?”

  “We’re not really alone. One of those ATF goons is parked in the state forest across the cove. He can probably see us from there.”

  “Then let’s give them something to look at,” she said, leaning across the helm, kissing Luke hard on the mouth. Leaving him staring as she resumed her seat.

  “What was that for?”

  “Curiosity,” she admitted. “I’ve wondered what that would be like since the first day. Now I’m sorry I waited.”

  “How did you know I wouldn’t be grievously offended?”

  “I negotiate million-dollar deals for a living, Mr. Falk. I’m quite good at reading people. Were you offended?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, kissing her back, and holding it a bit longer.

  “Nope,” he said, softly as he drew away. “Definitely not.”

  She cocked her head, reading his eyes. And listening to the motor launch drawing closer.

  “I suppose we’d better go back,” she said wistfully, wheeling the craft about. “Pity.”

  She waved gaily at her bodyguards as the Penny flew past them, heading back to the dock. And Luke couldn�
�t keep his eyes off her.

  “You have to come back,” he said suddenly.

  “Why? The Penny performed perfectly.”

  “She still needs a few adjustments.”

  “What adjustments?”

  “I’m a creative guy. I’ll think of some.”

  “That would be a mistake for both of us,” she said, her mood darkening. “I know I’m no great beauty, Mr. Falk, but I’m not someone to be trifled with either. I’m a wealthy woman and you’re an attractive man who is, how should I put it? A bit casual when it comes to money?”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “For the ‘attractive man’ part. As for the rest of it, you’ve got to be kidding. The Cree say that a man who has enough is rich enough. I have more than enough. I live the way I want, put a little aside for a rainy day, and donate a major chunk of my earnings to tribal charities. About half, I think.”

  “You give away half your income?” she echoed, incredulous.

  “I have sins to atone for. And I don’t need it. Every morning, the dawn turns this bay to gold. And in winter, the waters freeze the lakes into a diamond wonderland far as you can see. I don’t give a damn about your money, Aliana. I just want to see you again. To listen to you. And look at you.”

  “Come live with me and be my love?” she said ironically. “In my cabin in the forest?”

  “You’re way ahead of yourself. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘come let me buy you a cheeseburger.’”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “I like cheeseburgers,” she admitted. “And where would we dine? At the local McDonald’s? You, me, and my entourage?”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy.”

  “It’s not possible. Life isn’t poetry, Mr. Falk, especially mine, I—why are you smiling?”

  “Because I don’t believe you, lady. I’ve always understood boats and rifles better than women. But somehow . . . I can read you. The way I can read winds or currents or tracks in the forest. And I think you really want to come back, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not a trick question. Are you happy with your life? Traveling with armed guards, living like a prisoner? Is that what you want?”

  “Americans.” She shook her head. “You think everyone gets to live happily ever after.”

  “It beats the alternative.”

  “I didn’t choose my life,” she said evenly, “it chose me. But I have to live it. I have responsibilities.”

  “To your family, sure. But not necessarily to your father’s business. Trust me, the arms trade won’t grind to a halt if you choose to do something else.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand better than you think. I had a choice like yours once. I chose to do my duty, for my country and my government. And I killed people in a faraway place and nearly destroyed myself. Take a lesson from my mistakes, Aliana. You can make a different choice.”

  “What choice do I have?”

  “A simple one, I think. You can keep moving, selling more weapons. Or you can step away, and spend time here, with me. And see what happens.”

  “This is crazy,” she said, looking away. “You’re crazy.”

  “Certifiable,” he agreed. “I’ve got papers to prove it. But that wasn’t the question. Do you want to come back, Aliana? Or not?”

  “We have to go, right now,” Deacon said angrily as Luke eased the Penny to the dock. “There’s a watcher in the hills. One of those federal men, probably. This place isn’t safe.”

  “Compared to what?” Aliana snapped, stepping gracefully ashore, slipping on her shoes. “Damascus? Kosovo? Will anyplace ever be safe enough for you, Deacon?”

  “I don’t know, miss, but this place definitely is not. Is something wrong?”

  “This damned boat won’t do at all! Mr. Falk needs to make further adjustments.”

  “I’ll get right on it, miss, ” Luke agreed. “She’ll be ready to try again in a few days.”

  “Out of the question!” Deacon said. “We’re too isolated here, too vulnerable. We can’t come back.”

  “Damn it, Deacon, you’re my guardian, not my jailer!” Aliana flared, turning on him furiously. “I ordered a boat from these bumpkins and I want it properly fitted. If one agent hiding in the woods frightens you, maybe I should ask my father for a new security chief.”

  “Perhaps you should, miss. We can both fly home tomorrow to discuss the question in person. And see which of us your father believes.”

  Aliana went pale, reading the tall African’s face. But she didn’t back off an inch.

  “Deacon, I love you like an uncle, you know that. But if you drag me back to Damascus, I swear you’ll die in the desert with your mouth full of salt!”

  It should have been no contest, the seven-foot warrior glaring down at the tiny slip of a woman. But size and force of will have little to do with each other.

  “If you insist, miss,” Deacon conceded grudgingly. “One more visit.”

  “Thank you, sweetness,” Aliana said, reaching up to cup the giant’s cheek with her palm. “You’re my oldest and dearest. Shall we go?”

  But as the security team headed for the Navigators, Deacon glanced back at Luke. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. The fury in his eyes would have spooked a lion off a fresh kill.

  “Maybe you should stay in town with Aunt Min for a while,” Luke said, standing with Gus, watching the Navigators roar round the cove into the forest.

  “Aw hell,” the old man groaned. “You’re not getting involved with that woman, are you?”

  Luke didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

  “She’s a pretty thing, I’ll grant you that,” Gus conceded, “but you can buy pretty in a bottle at Walgreens. Didn’t you hear that ‘die with your mouth full of salt’ business? There’s a difference between a woman with spirit and one with an evil temper.”

  “Which did my grandmother have?”

  “Both,” the old man admitted. “But those were simpler times.”

  “Better times,” Luke said. “That’s my point. We may have serious trouble coming, Gus. I can smell it on the wind, like a storm just over the horizon.”

  “I feel it, too,” Gus agreed. “Don’t worry about me, Grandson, I won’t get in your way. Nowadays, I’m almost invisible anyway. ”

  “So they kissed, so what?” Ridley said at the stakeout later that afternoon. “Why should we care about her love life?”

  “Because they went to some trouble to conceal it from her bodyguards,” Larkin said. “We could e-mail a warning to her father, stir things up.”

  “How does getting Falk stomped by Markovic’s goons help us? I know the boat builder ticked you off, but stay on point, Gordie. We only want the woman. Did you plant a stash on her boat?”

  “Haven’t had the chance,” Larkin admitted. “Falk’s up at first light, works in his shop until dark. He never leaves, and except for occasional customers, nobody visits. And that damned dog is around, twenty-four/seven.”

  “You’d better figure something out quick. I can’t cover your ass much longer.”

  “You won’t have to. I’ve got an idea.”

  “What idea?” Ridley asked. But when Larkin ignored the question, Ridley didn’t press it. He really didn’t want to know.

  The yuppie couple seemed a bit off to Luke, though he wasn’t sure why. They looked wealthy enough to be shopping for expensive toys. She was tall, slim, and blond, he was shorter and chunkier, but both dressed well and they were driving a vintage Mercedes 450SL convertible. They asked the right questions, or at least he did. She seemed a bit uneasy. Maybe they weren’t quite as rich as they looked.

  They walked through the workshop and oohed and aahed over the Penny, but didn’t ask to take her out, so Luke wasn’t surprised when they drove off without placing an order.

  “Who were those two?” Gus asked, wandering into the shop from the deck w
ith Razzy at his heels. In the distance, the Mercedes was vanishing around the final curve into the forest.

  “Potential customers,” Luke grunted, sighting down a spar, checking the curve.

  “You sure?” Gus said. “While the husband was looking over the Penny, the woman ducked back into the shop. I thought she was looking for the john but she was only gone a moment. She gave her husband a look when she came out. Right after that, he checked his watch and said they had to leave—” He broke off as Razzy began growling low in her throat, her hackles rising as she stared down the cove road.

  “Apparently Razz didn’t like them either,” Luke said.

  “She never growls when people leave,” Gus said, frowning. “Only at strangers coming in.” Then they both heard it, the sound of engines roaring in the distance, drawing closer by the second as Razzy snarled louder in defiance.

  Gus and Luke exchanged a split-second glance of understanding. “The woman,” Luke snapped as he ducked into the shop. “Where did she go in here?”

  “I didn’t see,” Gus said, “but she was only in here a few seconds. It’ll be near the door.”

  “Got it,” Luke said, snatching up a small paper bag stuffed behind a bench grinder and upending it. A small automatic pistol fell out, along with two glassine bags of white powder.

  “What the hell is that?” Gus asked.

  “About ten years in prison,” Luke said, removing the magazine from the gun butt, tossing it aside. Grabbing an acetylene torch, he opened the valves and lit it up.

  “What are you doing?” Gus asked.

  “Cooking.” Dropping the pistol and the packets onto a ceramic retort, he seared them with the torch, spraying the room with sparks as the pistol and powder disintegrated. “Who is it?”

  “Them two feds from last week,” Gus said, “and they got a posse with ’em.” The blue Blazer skidded to a halt, with a Valhalla county prowl car and a black police van close behind, flak-jacketed cops piling out while the vehicles were still rocking. A burly deputy carrying a riot gun came charging up the steps.

  “Search warrant! Put your hands on the wall!”

  “Screw yourself, fat boy,” Gus flared, folding his arms, blocking the doorway.