"d.a.m.n, "Burden said into Herrin's earpiece, "this isn't much. If they just happen not to be transmitting during these four hours ... "Pause. Silence. Then he said, "But I have a hunch that their timing's good. On the first flight the Beechcraft was in position and operating within only a couple of minutes of Cain's e-mail to Luquin. If Luquin was going to react quickly, and he always does, he should've been making encrypted calls within the time frame of that first flight. He just has to be in one of those three houses."

Chapter 23.

Jorge Macias stood at the deck railing that overlooked the lake, a cell phone pressed to his ear as he watched a girl in a banana yellow bikini lying on the bow of a rumbling ski boat resting in the water a hundred meters below. He wore black linen trousers and a dove gray silk shirt unb.u.t.toned to midchest, the dark hair of which peeked through the plackets of his shirtfront. He was talking to his mobile surveillance crew, who had picked up and reported the arrival of Rita Cain.

As he listened he watched another girl, wearing a black thong and holding a drink in her hand, as she leaned over the side of the boat and talked to a man in the water getting his skis ready. A second man stood at the steering wheel telling him what to do.

"Ah, very good, "Macias said, "exactly, exactly. I needed some good news. Still no sign of bodyguards, anything like that? ... Bueno, bueno. Bueno, bueno. Great." Great."

The girls preened in the sun. Girls like that, que chichis. que chichis. And then the girl on the bow stood and got into the boat. The driver, looking back, gunned the engine. The prop dug into the water and the boat took off. Suddenly the guy in the water was skipping along the surface of the lake on his skis, heading into the glittering ripples of the water. And then the girl on the bow stood and got into the boat. The driver, looking back, gunned the engine. The prop dug into the water and the boat took off. Suddenly the guy in the water was skipping along the surface of the lake on his skis, heading into the glittering ripples of the water.

Macias watched them head into the sun. s.h.i.t.

He glanced back at Luquin, who was sitting on the other side of the pool at a table in the shade of the trees. He was smoking and was focused intently on the screen of his computer, as if he were gazing at the center of the universe, sending and receiving encrypted messages through Rio, Mexico City, Buenos Aires, Beirut, Monaco. He had hardly stopped to eat. He had slept little. He was irritable. He was as volatile as nitroglycerin and even more difficult to handle.

But everyone involved in this one was on edge. It was dangerous running something like this in the States. There was a lot of pressure because everyone was getting paid double his usual fee, and because of that, Luquin expected superhuman performances from all of them.

As Macias watched, Luquin suddenly straightened up in his chair, his eyes locked on the small screen. Macias stopped hearxing anything that was being said to him over the cell phone. Luquin leaned closer to the screen as his expression hardened.

"I'll get back to you, "Macias said. He closed the cell phone and had started around the pool when Luquin suddenly bellowed a curse and jumped to his feet. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the laptop from the table and flung it into the air. It whiffled into a high arc, still open, the screen lighted with its last message, and then plummeted into the exact center of the pool, where it hit the water with a soft slurp and fluttered slowly to the bottom.

Macias stopped. Luquin glared across the water at him, his legs apart in a combative posture.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, "Luquin barked, "get me a computer."

Macias broke into a sweat as he went into the house and s.n.a.t.c.hed a laptop from the dining room table. As he headed outside with it, his mind ran through all the places they'd antic.i.p.ated glitches, trying to guess what might have caused Luquin's outburst.

"I don't believe this guy, "Luquin said. His voice had returned to a conversational volume. His fury had gone underground. Now you needed to be afraid of him.

Macias set the laptop on the table, opened it, and hit the power b.u.t.ton. Then he went around to the other side of the table so that he could watch Luquin's face. Luquin finessed the keys, his fingers barely making a sound as they whispered over the little gray plastic squares.

They waited for the secure site to materialize, and then Luquin pulled up the message that had caused his outburst. He turned the laptop around and shoved it at Macias.

"That pinche cabron, pinche cabron, "he said, smiling, his voice languid in disdain. "he said, smiling, his voice languid in disdain.

Macias looked at the screen.

I have the $10 million ready for Cavatino, but I'm not putting it through until I talk to you again, face-to-face. We have to understand something. I've done nothing to disobey your instructions. If you're going to kill people even when I follow your directions, then I'll keep my money and you can go to h.e.l.l.

Macias couldn't believe his eyes. Cain had just kissed off another life or two. Macias could feel Luquin looking at him over the top of the computer screen, waiting for a response.

"Well, at least you know he hasn't got anyone advising him, "Macias said. "n.o.body in the business would have let him do that."

Luquin said nothing. His eyes drifted away from Macias and held in the middle distance, seeing nothing.

153.

"So what is he doing? "Luquin asked.

"Maybe he can't handle the killing. Maybe he's going to freak out."

"He doesn't do that. Maybe he hasn't seen enough killing, that's what I think."

This was Luquin's big gamble, jugar el todo por el todo, jugar el todo por el todo, all or nothing, and he had pored over psychological profiles of Cain as if he were a professional psychiatrist. From these doc.u.ments Luquin had created his own understanding of Cain's psychology that allowed him to antic.i.p.ate Cain's reaction to every pressure that Luquin applied even before he applied it. This, however, was a kink in the plans. all or nothing, and he had pored over psychological profiles of Cain as if he were a professional psychiatrist. From these doc.u.ments Luquin had created his own understanding of Cain's psychology that allowed him to antic.i.p.ate Cain's reaction to every pressure that Luquin applied even before he applied it. This, however, was a kink in the plans.

But Luquin's impatience with this surprise was only that, impatience. In Luquin's mind, his superiority was firmly established. Cain might make a sudden move that required a sudden reaction, but it was only a momentary diversion.

"This is an interesting development, "Luquin said. "Defiance? After knowing he was responsible for his friend's death?"

"But he thinks the killing was unjustified, "Macias said. "Maybe he doesn't think he's responsible at all. He thinks you're out of line."

Luquin slowly pulled a cigarette out of the pack on the table in front of him, as if a quick move would make him lose his train of thought. He lighted it and stared out into the heat.

"Maybe, "Luquin said, thinking. "This guy is a complicated mixture, a p.u.s.s.y with bra.s.s b.a.l.l.s. "He laughed. "Yeah, that's a good description. I'm just surprised the b.a.l.l.s came into play at this point. After a little more pressure, maybe. But I thought the first killing would knock him off his feet, that it would take him some time to recover. Then, maybe, I'd have a tough time with him. "He smoked, nodding to himself. "Yeah, this is interesting."

Macias watched Luquin. This was interesting for him, too. Normally, having a target show this kind of defiance would already have resulted in an order for a swift, brutal death, but for some reason, this time, Luquin was not so predictable. This time he was willing to exercise a little patience, even if it was capriciously granted. Still, for him to show any at all was extraordinary. Maybe Luquin wanted the money even more than he wanted to make a machismo point with Cain. Luquin's greed was legendary. He wanted those millions.

But there was more to it than that. Though Macias was not directly involved, and Luquin never spoke to him about it, Macias knew that something bigger was at stake. Luquin was once again doing business with some of his old friends in the Middle East. Business in Mexico.

Macias wasn't officially in the loop, but he knew more about this than Luquin believed. Not much went on in Mexico that Macias didn't know about. And the strange activities of his old compadre compadre Luquin were no exception. Luquin were no exception.

Even by Luquin's standards, this Middle Eastern business was insanely dangerous. No wonder Luquin was volatile sometimes and uncharacteristically pliant at others. He was playing a game of snakes and ladders, jugar a la vida. jugar a la vida.

"Can that be done? "Luquin asked, shifting his eyes to Macias. "A safe meeting with this cabron?" cabron?"

"It can be done, Tano. But are you sure you want to do it?"

Luquin cut his eyes at Macias. "Fear. And flexibility. Huh? This requires a brutal hand ... with a delicate touch now and then to give him hope. We have to be flexible, Jorge. We've never done it in just this way before. We have to be ... sensitive to the possibilities. The blade here. A blessing there. We do what we have to do ... for sixty-four million dollars, huh? You can do this? No problem?"

"Sure, we can do it. But we have to control the logistics. And we need to make him think that we need time for you to fly in for the meeting. We don't want him to know you're close by."

Luquin thought a moment. Then he reached out and turned the laptop around and started typing.

Okay. One meeting. Wait for instructions. You would do well to meet your deadline for payment tomorrow.

Luquin turned the laptop around again and showed his message to Macias.

"I'll contact my people and start setting it up."

"Send it, "Luquin said.

Macias tapped the key, and Luquin shoved back his chair and stood. He wanted to see the laptop in the water. He walked over to the pool and stopped, the toes of his loafers almost over the edge. He looked in and there it was, sitting at the bottom like a single eye in a man's forehead. He smoked, and the smoke was whipped away in the breeze that blew along the cliffs above the lake.

His eyes picked up the movement of an oak leaf that had fallen into the water. It was floating about crazily, the variable breezes slinging it this way and that, first in manic pursuit, then in unstrung flight across the aqua sea.

That's the way he wanted t.i.tus Cain, he thought, just on the edge of hysteria, his heart racing, his mind not quite able to stop long enough to gain the traction of reason, but having enough control of his faculties to know that the faster he unloaded the money, the sooner the deaths would stop. That was the kind of pressure that Luquin had to reestablish in his meeting with Cain. Cain had to be buffeted constantly, given no time to drift. He had to be driven.

Chapter 24.

On the way back from the orchard, t.i.tus stopped off at the guest cottage while Rita continued on to the house. The living room of the cottage was now crammed with computers and a variety of electronic equipment that he hadn't even bothered to try to understand.

Herrin gave t.i.tus a quick overview of how it would all work and was bringing him up-to-date on the results from the Beechcraft when t.i.tus's cell phone rang. It was Burden. "Have you seen Luquin's response?" "No."

"He's going to do it. He's going to meet with you." t.i.tus was stunned. He didn't know what he'd expected, but he was definitely taken aback at the prospect of meeting face-to-face with Luquin again. "What'd he say?"

"He'll send you his instructions, so stay close." "Did he say why he was agreeing to meet with me?"

"No, but he's not as sure of himself as he wants you to believe. I think he wants to look at you, rea.s.sure himself. This is good. We'll see his instructions, so just do what he says. We'll take care of our end of it."

"Which is?"

"I want to go over that with you in detail, "Burden said. "I'm going to get to your place early tonight, and I'll put it all together for you, tell you where we stand. What do you have to do to make the first payment go through?"

"A phone call."

"Good. I want you to do that right there in front of him. And what about the next payment?"

"I'm working on it."

Burden paused, and t.i.tus heard something in the background, people talking, radio transmissions.

"Look, "Burden said, "I want you to be prepared ... Thrush isn't going to be the only one. I just don't want you to start thinking ... that anything's magically changed here."

t.i.tus was aware of the acrid odor of electronics, of warm plastics and rubber-coated wiring. Familiar smells. But what he was feeling at the back of his brain, the hum that oscillated deep behind his chest muscles as if his heart were about to fibrillate, was not only unfamiliar, but also frightening. Waiting for another death was harrowing. He wondered if this was what a man felt when he lost control of his reason, if these sensations were the beginnings of what would later be called blind rage.

"No, "t.i.tus said, "I understand that hasn't changed."

After ending the call, t.i.tus stepped outside and stood in the shade at the front of the guest cottage. The shadow would grow as the sun fell farther behind the orchard, heading toward the hillside where the men had been working on the reservoir. He looked down through the splintered light of the allee of laurels and slipped into one of those moments when all that was familiar and commonplace swiftly bled away from his awareness, until he found himself estranged from his own experience, caught in a queer and alien moment.

Then, just as quickly, he snapped out of it and took the cell phone out of his pocket and called Carla at the office. He asked her if she could bring her laptop and come to the house for a few hours'work. It wasn't an uncommon request. t.i.tus liked working from the house whenever he could, even in the early years.

He walked across the courtyard, past the fountain, and into the broad atrium hallway. He found Rita in their bedroom, unpacking. She heard him, but she didn't turn around from the bed where she had opened her suitcases. She was s.n.a.t.c.hing things out of the bags, still agitated.

"Listen, "he said, "let's don't leave it like this."

When she spun around to say something that he knew had been building up inside her, he gestured with a vertical forefinger and then pointed to his ear, reminding her of the bug.

Caught off guard, she just stared at him, holding her breath. Then she snapped, "Not now, t.i.tus, for G.o.d's sake." And she turned around again and went on with her unpacking.

"Carla's coming over, "he said to her back. "I've got to get some things done."

"Then do it, "she said without stopping, covering the bed with slips and skirts and underwear and shoes.

t.i.tus turned and walked out of the room.

When Carla stepped into his office nearly an hour later, he was at the long worktable reading Luquin's message on his laptop screen for the tenth time. When he looked up and saw her face, he knew that she knew that something was going on. She put her laptop on the table across from him and flipped it on before she'd even slipped off her shoulder bag.

"I just saw Rita in the kitchen, "she said, giving him a significant look as she shrugged off the bag. "What happened to the trip? She was upset."

"Sit down, "t.i.tus said, and as she did he started telling her about Charlie Thrush's accident. Astounded, she asked questions-she always asked questions-and then commiserated. It didn't take her long to realize, either, that this terrible news was falling on top of the stress t.i.tus was already under from the huge financial loss he'd told her about yesterday.

They talked a little while about notifying certain people at CaiText, and Carla made a list of those whom t.i.tus thought should be told immediately. They, in turn, could tell others.

"G.o.d, this is just one thing on top of another, "she said. She hesitated and then went right into it. "What about ... the financial thing you mentioned? Is that what you want to deal with now?"

"Mostly."

"And does Rita ... ?"

"She knows everything."

"How's she ... ?"

"We're working on it."

Carla nodded. After an awkward silence t.i.tus said, "I'm going to have to sell off a piece of the company, a small piece, about eight percent."

Carla's mouth dropped open.

t.i.tus instantly flushed. This was humiliating.

"I've got Lack Paley working on it, and it ought to be done in a couple of days."

"A couple of days?! "She was floored.

Angry and embarra.s.sed, t.i.tus swallowed, and then he knew she had seen it. He'd never felt exactly like this in his life. All the good common sense, the sound judgment, the caution and steady stewardship he'd used to build CaiText, and which was a trademark of the way he conducted business, were being destroyed by the actions Luquin was forcing him to make. It would have been bad enough if this disparagement had been justified, but to have to deliberately bring such wrong a.s.sumptions upon himself was nearly more than he could stand.

"You needed to know this, "he went on, his face burning, "in case something about it leaked out and you started to get inquiries."

If he felt this way telling Carla, who knew him so well, with whom he had shared so much of his life, and who knew more about him than anybody besides Rita, how was he going to feel when this perceived irresponsibility became public? What would people think when the business press seized on this? What would happen to his reputation when his colleagues and managers and employees believed he had behaved so recklessly? How was he going to deal with that?

"If ... if I do get questions, what ... what do you want me to say? "she asked.

"Just tell them you don't know anything about it. Tell them it's legal stuff. It's out of your bailiwick."

She nodded, still looking at him, but the expression on her face had moved from shock to suspicion, as if she were beginning to see that there was far more to this than t.i.tus was telling her.