"I don't know."

"Was it Haller? Could you see?"

"Couldn't tell."

"f.u.c.k me," Fontaine said, scowling. "Tom said the cops were taken care of."

"That's what he promised," said Tom's man, glumly.

The intruders waited twenty minutes. By then, the frightened crew of the gra.s.s boat had scrabbled ash.o.r.e and escaped with the other smugglers. All that remained at the jetty was the boat; its cargo; the Winnebago campers, deserted forever; and two Coleman lanterns aglow against the tangled mangroves.

Breeze Albury guided the Diamond Cutter Diamond Cutter toward the island. Augie knelt on the bow, cradling the shotgun. Jimmy stood shirtless at his side, holding a coiled rope. toward the island. Augie knelt on the bow, cradling the shotgun. Jimmy stood shirtless at his side, holding a coiled rope.

Effortlessly, Albury sidled the Diamond Cutter Diamond Cutter up to the gra.s.s boat, Tom's boat. The pirates worked swiftly. up to the gra.s.s boat, Tom's boat. The pirates worked swiftly.

Chapter 14.

(From the deposition of James E. Cantrell, Jr., taken on the sixth day of October 1982, before Christine Manning, counsel to the office of the Governor. Also present was court reporter Mary Perdue.)

MISS M MANNING: Jimmy, can you tell me how you knew that load of marijuana would be coming into the Big Spanish Channel that night?

MR. CANTRELL: Breeze found out, somehow. On our way back from Key Largo, we ga.s.sed up the boat in Islamorada. Breeze got off and made a couple phone calls. When he came back, he told us that Tom had a load coming in.

Q: That would be Tomas Cruz?

A: Right. After that, we brought the Diamond Cutter Diamond Cutter down to Marathon. Augie got out near the Vaca Key Bridge. I guess he was gone an hour or so before he came back with this police bubble. You know, the light they flash at you when you're supposed to stop. Like the troopers have on top of their cars. I don't know where Augie got it, and I don't want to know. down to Marathon. Augie got out near the Vaca Key Bridge. I guess he was gone an hour or so before he came back with this police bubble. You know, the light they flash at you when you're supposed to stop. Like the troopers have on top of their cars. I don't know where Augie got it, and I don't want to know.

Q: What did Captain Albury say?

A: Nothing. He just hooked it up to the twelve-volt we had in the pilothouse. This was after we already anch.o.r.ed behind Little Pine Key.

Q: While you were waiting to ambush the other boat?

A: Ma'am, I wouldn't call it an ambush. All we had was the blue light.

Q: And the shotgun.

A: Yes, ma'am. That was my idea, firing the Remington into the air. I figured it would speed things along.

Q: Did Captain Albury ever explain why he wanted to hijack the other lobster boat?

A: He didn't have to. Part of it was the money, the fifty grand Winnebago Tom owed us. Breeze needed something to bargain with. And let me tell you, five tons of weed is good for openers.

Q: Jimmy, what took place after the hijacking at No-Name Key?

A: Breeze took the dope boat around to the Mud Keys. Me and Augie followed in the Diamond Cutter. Diamond Cutter. Made good time, too. Then Breeze got on the radio to somebody and pa.s.sed the word. He told them to let Tom Cruz know that we had his five tons. Made good time, too. Then Breeze got on the radio to somebody and pa.s.sed the word. He told them to let Tom Cruz know that we had his five tons.

Q: Isn't that blackmail?

A: Is it? It seemed pretty d.a.m.n polite, compared to what those f.u.c.kers put us through. Tom should have given us the money. The right thing to do was pay us, like he promised. Breeze didn't want his f.u.c.king gra.s.s.

Q: So Mr. Cruz learned what had happened to his boat?

A: Oh, yeah.

Q: And he knew what Breeze Albury wanted?

A: I'm sure he did.

Q: Did he give Captain Albury an answer?

A: Yes, ma'am. It was quite an answer, too. Just about the worst thing I ever heard of. Nothing surprised me after Winnebago Tom did what he did. Not a G.o.dd.a.m.ned thing that happened after that really surprised me. Not the least.

Chapter 15.

THE GIRL sat cross-legged on the bed, the lute's fretted neck leaning gently against her left breast: sat cross-legged on the bed, the lute's fretted neck leaning gently against her left breast: Come by sea, come by flight; Bring it to me by the crate.

Fly by day, sail by night, But honey please don't be late 'Cause I gotta have my Florida freight.

Bring me speed, Bring me weed.

Bring me snow, I love it so.

Florida freight, oh Florida freight, I jes' gotta have my Florida freight.

Propped on an elbow, Manolo raised his gla.s.s in silent toast.

"An improvisation," she smiled. "I call it 'Smuggler's Lullaby.'"

"Amusing."

"Actually, there is another very good line." She sang: "Float a Donzi, drive a Porsche ... but the trouble is I can't think of anything to rhyme with 'Porsche.'"

"The next time, perhaps."

"Shall I go?"

"I am afraid so; I am expecting guests."

"At this hour?"

"Irritating, but unavoidable."

When he arrived a half-hour later, Tomas Cruz headed straight for the bar. He drained off three ounces of scotch and then splashed some onto his hands and across his face.

"Christ, the mosquitoes almost ate me alive up there. What a mess ... an all-time blue-ribbon f.u.c.king mess."

Manolo, in a knotted dressing gown, sipped Cointreau from leaded crystal.

"Help yourself to a drink, Tom; no sense being shy."

"Yeah, thanks, I'll have another one. Jesus, we're really screwed this time."

"Short and to the point, if you don't mind. It's late."

Tom trailed mud across the white carpet and hunkered onto a suede sofa, scratching his ankles.

"OK, look, it's a routine run, right? Five tons, one boat, a drop-off we've used before. Three vans, eight off-loaders, and by dawn the stuff is already in Miami, right? Sweet and simple. Then it all went to s.h.i.t."

"Do you know who did it?"

"At first, I thought it was the cops-the Marine Patrol, blue light 'n all. It wasn't."

"Let me guess. It was Breeze Albury."

"Jesus, Manolo, you're really sharp. How'd you know that?"

"A desperate captain in a rogue boat. Who else would try something like that?"

"Who woulda figured it? Breeze Albury, and him like all the rest: lean on them a little bit and they keel over like it was a hurricane. You shoulda seen him when we cut his trap line, like a little kid who'd lost his puppy."

"The next time we need a patsy, Tom, I think you should look harder." Manolo sipped at his drink. "If there is a next time."

"What the f.u.c.k is that supposed to mean?"

"If Albury was a patsy like you say, he never would have left Dynamite Docks alive, would he? Your patsy comes snapping back and rips us off for ten thousand pounds. Some patsy."

"Yeah, that's what he is, a potbellied patsy Conch. I ain't afraid of Breeze f.u.c.king Albury."

"That's good, Tom, because I expect you to deal with him. The business at Dynamite Docks has upset our Colombian friends. They are mad at Breeze Albury. That is enough. I want the load back, and I don't want any more trouble from him. We need to make an example before he gives other people ideas. I want you to deal with it."

"I'll take care of him, all right. Just tell me where to find the motherf.u.c.ker."

"He will tell you himself, Tom."

"Huh?"

Manolo stifled a sigh.

"Think, Tom. Think every now and then, and you might learn to like it. What do you suppose Albury is going to do with five tons of gra.s.s?"

"I dunno. Sell it, I guess."

"That's right. He will sell it-to us. What else can he do with it? He will offer to swap it for the money due from the Key Largo run, plus a little more, maybe. And he will do it quickly because that much gra.s.s is going to be spotted, sooner or later."

"Well, I'll be G.o.dd.a.m.ned if I'm gonna pay to get our own gra.s.s back."

"Of course not. But you must encourage Albury to negotiate. Make him see that it is not merely a question of money."

Tom Cruz tossed down the scotch with a smile. "d.a.m.n, that's good. I like it. I'll make him want to negotiate." He rolled the syllables around in his mouth.

"You had better leave now, but remember one more thing, if you can. Our business is built on control control, Tom. We have lost control because of your patsy. We must reestablish it. If we do not, think of how it will appear. I shall be forced to tell our Colombian a.s.sociates that you are the one who was responsible."

With satisfaction, Manolo watched Tom Cruz scramble anxiously for the door.

HE WAS WINNEBAGO TOM, but there were times when a lumbering camper, his symbol of status, would not do. Tomas Cruz dropped the Corvette into third and whipped past a tractor-trailer. Ahead, the Overseas Highway gleamed starkly in the afternoon sun. He fed it to the Corvette.

"s.h.i.thead legless b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Tom muttered into the slipstream. Manolo must be right. He must be losing control. Or else he would have checked into the post office first thing. And the crippled radio jockey wouldn't have been such a wisea.s.s.

"Message for you, Tom, from Breeze Albury." Crystal had delicately laid the glowing tip of a soldering iron to a tangle of transistors.

"Where is he?"

"He didn't say."

"You could tell from the radio, couldn't you-the direction finder?"

"No."

"Don't give me that s.h.i.t. I know about radios, shortknees. You try and cover up for Albury and you're in deep s.h.i.t with me, hear?"

"I'm trembling, Tom, I really am. Do you want the message, or what?"

"Tell me, Stumpy. Give me the message from Mr. Breeze f.u.c.king Albury."

"Breeze says you can have your gra.s.s back for fifty-three thousand ..."

"Shi-it."

"... that's fifty you owe him for something-he didn't say what-and another three for his traps. He says to let him know if you want to deal, and he'll tell you when and how."

"He'll tell me, huh? Big-shot Breeze Albury will tell me. You tell him I'll get back to him."