فصل بیست و پنجم

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

The Pier

The Dan Russell Pier was the one which was furthest west of the three piers on Panama City Beach. It was about half a mile east of the Blue Tide. At eleven-thirty Abby left Room 38 and began walking east along the beach.

Five minutes later Mitch left. While Abby was dressed to look like a tourist, Mitch was dressed all in black. So was Ray, who left five minutes after Mitch, locking the door behind him.

At midnight Abby stood at the end of the pier. Mitch sat on a chair at the beach end of the pier. Ray was standing on the sand about fifty yards away.

Abby hid as much of her torch as possible in her coat and pointed it out to sea. She switched it on and off, on and off. There was no reply. She tried again. Again there was no reply.

From the corner of his eye Mitch saw someone jump on to the pier and walk quickly towards Abby. It was Rimmer. Mitch was up and running silently after him.

Rimmer walked up behind Abby and called her name. She turned round and started to scream. Rimmer jumped at her and at the same time Mitch dived head first into his legs.

All three fell down on to the hard surface of the pier. Rimmer hit Mitch hard in the eye and reached for his gun. He never found it. Ray charged into him and hit him again and again until he was unconscious.

‘Switch on the torch again, Abby,’ Ray said as he unwrapped the rope from his waist. She turned out to sea and did as he said.

‘What are you going to do?’ Mitch whispered, watching Ray and the rope.

‘We can either shoot him or drown him,’ Ray said. ‘We have to do one or the other.’

‘Oh, my God!’ said Abby.

‘Don’t fire the gun,’ Mitch whispered.

‘I agree,’ Ray said. He twisted the rope around Rimmer’s neck and tightened it. Rimmer didn’t move. After three minutes Ray slid the body at the end of the rope down into the water.

Abanks was late, but he found a way through the small boats which were waiting out at sea. None of Morolto’s men even saw him come, and none of them saw him go with his three new passengers.

At six in the morning Tammy phoned Tarrance, just as Mitch had said she should.

‘You can have the files now, Wayne,’ she said. ‘They’re in Room 38, Blue Tide Hotel, Panama City Beach. The clerk is called Andy and he’ll let you into the room.

Be careful with the files, Wayne, we’ve taken a lot of time and trouble getting them all neat for you. And you’ll find sixteen hours of film there too.’

‘I have just one question,’ Tarrance said tiredly. ‘Where is he?’

‘By now,’ said Tammy, ‘they’re on a plane to South America. I’ve got to go. Goodbye.’

The boat Abanks had bought them was perfect. With it and the money they could spend the rest of their lives sailing in luxury among the thousands of islands in the West Indies.

They could have homes on two or three of the smaller ones, like Little Cayman, where no one ever came.

Abanks taught them all he knew about boating and about the islands.

They knew from newspapers that the firm and the Morolto family were finished. Fifty-one present and past members of the firm were arrested,

and the Morolto family trials would go on for years. The Memphis newspapers listed the names of all the arrested lawyers.

As Mitch read their names he saw their faces. He almost felt sorry for some of them, and he pitied their wives and children. What a waste of talent.

‘I love you, Mitch.’ Abby was standing behind him. ‘We’ll be OK. As long as we’re together we can handle anything.’

‘I never really wanted to be a lawyer, anyway,’ Mitch said. ‘I always wanted to be a sailor.’