One of the most recent flights was to Charlottesville, one was to Bogotá, and the third?
Well, the third, which took off just forty-five minutes ago, was to Dublin.
Nice try, Amy Wheeler, nice try. This time Eddie has got them. Game on.
54
Rob Kenna knew his luck would change.
Someone had been trying to fool them, but Eddie saw through it, and he is now on a flight to Dublin. This one is costing Rob another fortune, but it will pay him back handsomely.
You see, this is why Rob had gone to Eddie. It’s going to take a proper professional to kill Amy Wheeler. This woman knows what she’s doing. If you need some average Joe off the street killed, you can hire another average Joe to do it. Like that South Carolina cop who stole some of Loubet’s money. They would have had to kill him anyway, but he made it a lot worse for himself, that one.
But a special target, like Amy Wheeler, calls for a special killer. And Nelson had been right: they had stayed at Emerald Bay. It didn’t lead to anything, but Rob will send Nelson a thank-you fee anyway; it pays to keep in with good people. The murder business is a relationships business.
Relationships like Eddie Flood. Eddie grew up on the same streets as Rob: East London when they started out, then Soho when the stakes got a little higher. Eddie was the best. He had no flash, no ego, took no joy in his work, just worked for the paycheck, and made sure he earned every penny of it.
He really could have gone places, Eddie, but he didn’t have Rob’s ambitions. As Rob built his empire, the two men drifted apart. No reason why Eddie shouldn’t be right here on this golf course, nice villa on the Arabian Gulf. He had the brains, the skills, but he didn’t want it enough. Rob wonders what Eddie does want. What other people want?
Rob watches as Big Mick smashes his ball off the tee. His swing is crude but effective. There’s another man who lacks ambition. Who’s happy with his lot. Must have made a million or two, surely, and then just thought, that’s it, that’ll do me. Rob can’t understand it. Enough is never enough.
“You know what I do for a living, Mick?”
“I heard you were a DJ,” says Big Mick. “Apart from that, I don’t want to know.”
“You never fancied being a billionaire?” Rob asks.
“What for?” says Mick. “You’d never be able to spend it all.”
“But you could look at it,” says Rob. “And other people could look at it.”
Rob bets that François Loubet is a billionaire. Must be.
“Also, it’d wipe the smile off my dad’s face.”
“There it is,” says Mick. “Proving something to your dad. You never will.”
They have reached the green. Rob lines up his putt. It’s nice talking to Big Mickey Moody. Rob’s putt rolls two feet past the hole.
Mickey Moody is lining up his own putt. “I never knew my dad, you see. My two grannies brought me up, and they’d be proud of me whatever I earned.”
“Taught you right from wrong, did they?” says Rob.
“Taught me to work hard,” says Mickey, as his putt curls into the hole. “Strong women.”
“Yeah, “ says Rob. “Nice putt. Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead?”
“Do what makes you happy, that’s my advice,” says Mick.
What makes you happy? Huh, that’s a good question. Rob holes his putt, and the two men walk to the next tee. Rob’s phone buzzes again. It’s Nelson Nunez.
Am coming to Dubai. Can we meet?
Nelson Nunez is coming to Dubai?
Purpose of visit?
Rob sees the three dots dancing.
Diamond Conference, gems are one of my many sidelines. I have a proposition for you. You’ll like it.
Rob Kenna senses money. The feeling rises in his chest. Of course, that’s what makes him happy. And that’s okay.
People like his dad, people like Eddie, people like Big Mickey Moody would never understand it. That drive. That was okay; there were others who got it. People like François Loubet and Nelson Nunez. And they were the people who kept him in business.
55
So what did they know now? The same woman picked up both Andrew Fairbanks and Bella Sanchez from the airport, both were carrying identical bags, and both influencers were murdered, then left on display.
In Ireland, they will try to discover if the same is true of Mark Gooch.
As for who François Loubet might be, they hadn’t found the answer in St. Lucia. But they know that a man in Dubai has been tasked with killing Amy by any means possible. As for Nelson’s François Loubet theory, knowing he isn’t French hasn’t exactly narrowed things down.
Steve has also received a message from Ferdy, telling him that Eddie Flood is on his way to Fiji. So that is one less thing to worry about for now. Poor Eddie, you had to feel for the guy.
On the flatscreen TV is Tony Taylor, with the rest of The Brass Monkey crowd, Dr. Jyoti Das, and John Todd. Jyoti is the only one who seems to know how to use Zoom properly.
“Guys,” says Steve. “I’m so sorry I might miss the quiz this week. I hate to let you down.”
