Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(64)

Luther tapped the ball very gently, sending it into the cup. Straightening, he looked at Matthias. “Delivering the cipher machine into the hands of the enemy is Smith’s idea of revenge, his way of telling the men running his old agency back in D.C. to go to hell. I’m sure he’s willing to take risks, but he’s not suicidal. If he decides he can’t get those rotors, he’ll fade back into the shadows.”

Matthias thought about that while they walked toward the next tee.

“If we chase him, we’ll lose him,” he said. “We need to make him come to us. The only way to do that is to use the rotors as bait.”

“Can’t exactly put an ad in the Herald. Need cipher machine rotors? Call now for free estimate.”

“Huh.”

Luther glanced at him. “What?”

“We’re a couple of mob guys, remember? We steal stuff. Why wouldn’t Smith believe that we’d be happy to do a deal for the rotors with whoever will meet our price?”

Luther gazed into the distance. He looked like he was contemplating his next shot but Matthias knew he was focused on the kernel of a plan.

“I can use the Broker to put the word out on the street,” he said. “If Smith is as desperate as we think he is, he just might take the bait.”

“If he does, we’ll be dealing with the same problem that got Pickwell killed. The most dangerous part of the operation will be the moment when the transaction takes place.”

Luther smiled. “We’re mobsters. We know how to do deals like this one.”





Chapter 43


Amalie waited until the tour group had disappeared into the conservatory for tea and cookies before she emerged from behind the front desk. Nearly overwhelmed with gratitude, she approached Vincent Hyde.

Vincent looked up. “Miss Vaughn. Congratulations on the success of your new tour program. It appears to have been a stroke of publicity genius.”

“Thanks in large part to you, Mr. Hyde. It was very gracious of you to offer to give everyone on the tour an autograph when they came back downstairs.”

“Not at all.” Vincent winked. “We are both well served by your brilliant idea. You will get some good word of mouth going about your inn and I will have yet another opportunity to get my name in the papers again.”

Amalie smiled. “I’m sure the Herald will mention that everyone on the first tour got to meet you and that you were kind enough to give each of them an autograph.”

Vincent chuckled. “I think I can guarantee you that the news of the success of your tour and the fact that I was seen handing out autographs like Halloween candy will also appear in Lorraine Pierce’s column tomorrow. A good day’s work for both of us, hmm?”

“I certainly hope so.” Amalie started to retreat to her post behind the front desk. “Thank you, again, for being so nice to the tour group.”

“Believe me, Miss Vaughn, I am delighted to be able to sign autographs. That is one of the reasons why I chose to stay here rather than the Burning Cove Hotel. As I’m sure you know, management at that resort does not allow anyone on the premises who is not actually registered there. And it has a strict ban on journalists.”

“The Burning Cove Hotel has established a reputation as an exclusive resort that promises privacy to its guests.”

“That is all very well if one actually seeks privacy, Miss Vaughn. I, however, am an aging actor who is trying to refloat a sinking reputation. I am in desperate need of fans and publicity.”

It may have been the truth but Amalie was shocked to hear Vincent admit it.

“You saw the way that tour group responded to you, Mr. Hyde,” she said. “They were thrilled.”

“Trust me, in the old days—say, a year and a half ago—they would have been screaming for autographs, not simply requesting them. No, Miss Vaughn, I have to be realistic about my future. Everything depends on me getting the lead in Nightmare Lane. I cannot afford another disaster like A Garden in Winter.”

“I’m sure your next movie will be a box office smash,” Amalie said.

Vincent picked up the Herald. “If it is a success, I will owe you and your inn a debt of gratitude. You have provided me with more publicity in the past week than I’ve had in the past six months.”

Amalie smiled. “Happy to be of service, Mr. Hyde.”

The sound of Matthias’s car in the drive distracted her. She hurried back to the front desk, determined to maintain at least the fa?ade of professionalism. The entire town, including Vincent Hyde, had no doubt concluded that she was a mobster’s floozy, but she did not intend to add fuel to the fires of gossip.

Matthias came through the door a moment later. He had a bag of golf clubs slung over one shoulder. She was eager to hear what he and Luther Pell had discussed on the golf course, but she couldn’t ask any questions now, not with Vincent Hyde sitting a short distance away.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones,” she said in her most professional tone. “I hope you enjoyed a pleasant round of golf.”

“It was an excellent game,” Matthias said. “I noticed a lot of cars and bicycles parked out front. I assume that means you got a good turnout for the first tour. I hope there’s some shortbread left. I need sustenance.”

She knew by the heat in his eyes that something very important had been discovered inside Futuro.