Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(69)

“We’re not interested in an extended conversation,” Luther said.

“Humor me. You took a risk stealing that metal monster. What made you think there was something valuable inside?”

“Why do you care how we figured it out?” Matthias asked.

“Personally, I don’t give a damn, but the client will want the answer.”

“Tell your client it’s a trade secret,” Luther said.

“Think you’re a couple of real smart guys, don’t you? You’re a pair of fucking amateurs, that’s what you are. Just a couple of nickel-and-dime mobsters who got into something that’s too big for them. You’re in way over your heads.”

“Word on the street is that the cipher machine is worth a fortune to certain parties,” Luther said.

“That’s true. But you two wouldn’t know the first thing about deals like this.”

“Don’t know about that,” Luther said. “You showed up real quick with an offer.”

“Forget answering my question. Let’s finish this.”

“Fine by us,” Luther said.

“We’re going to do this just like the Broker said. My associate takes the money to the middle of the bridge while I cover him. One of you brings the rotors to the middle. As soon as the exchange is made we all leave the scene, driving in opposite directions.”

“Believe it or not, we know what we’re doing here,” Luther said. “Jones and I may not be experts when it comes to international business deals, but we’ve each got considerable experience in this sort of transaction.”

“Let’s get on with it. Fucking amateurs.”

Matthias picked up the box of rotors and moved out from behind the cover of the Ford’s front door. He walked toward the center of the bridge.

The silent figure on the other side of the car moved forward, briefcase in hand.

The figure with the briefcase was a slightly built silhouette dressed in a jacket that looked too big for the slender frame, but that was all Matthias could make out. Bad Jacket set the briefcase down. Matthias put the box of rotors beside it and picked up the briefcase. It was surprisingly heavy. Cash in large quantities weighed a lot.

Bad Jacket scooped up the box and stepped back very quickly, but not before Matthias caught a hint of a fragrance. A lot of men wore cologne, but this brand had a strong floral note that seemed unusually feminine.

Bad Jacket opened the metal box and examined the contents in the glare of the headlights. Evidently satisfied, the figure started to retreat.

The rotors were real. There had been no time to manufacture convincing fakes.

“Nobody moves until Jones checks the briefcase,” Luther said.

“Yeah, sure,” the driver of the other car said. “But make it fast.”

There was a hint of anxiety in his voice now.

Matthias opened the briefcase. In the headlights he saw several packets of twenty-dollar bills stacked neatly inside. He closed the briefcase and picked it up in one hand.

“I’m impressed that you managed to come up with so much cash in such a short time,” he said.

“Don’t worry, it’s all there,” the driver said.

“It better be,” Matthias said, “assuming you want to do business with the Broker again. He never works twice with someone who cheats. He’s got his reputation to consider.”

The driver did not respond. He got behind the wheel and slammed the car door shut. On the other side of the vehicle, Bad Jacket jumped into the passenger seat. The vehicle reversed off the bridge, did a tight turn, and roared off down the dirt road.

Matthias waited a couple of beats and then he hurled the briefcase over the bridge railing.

“What the hell are you doing?” Luther said.

“Get in the car,” Matthias said.

Luther did not ask any questions. They both climbed into the sedan. Matthias reversed back down the road as fast as he dared.

The explosion ripped through the night. In the headlights a large spout of river water appeared, blasting skyward. The bridge crumpled and collapsed into the river.

The night sank back into silence. Luther regarded the scene through the windshield with a thoughtful expression.

“Out of curiosity,” he said, “did the money look real?”

“It was real,” Matthias said. “But they shorted us.”

“How did you know?” Luther asked.

Matthias changed gears and turned the sedan around to head back to Burning Cove.

“Remember when the driver said that the full amount of the payment was inside the briefcase?”

“Yeah.”

“He lied.”

“Talk about an amateur,” Luther said.

“The real Smith is not an amateur.”

“No, he isn’t.”

Matthias thought about the whiff of cologne.

“Maybe we shouldn’t discount the possibility that Amalie and Raina were right,” he said. “Maybe we shouldn’t assume that Smith is a man.”





Chapter 48


The muffled rumble of the explosion echoed in the night. Lorraine had been tense with expectation, waiting for the small bomb to detonate. Now she breathed a sigh of relief. A rush of excitement swept through her. She tucked the gun back into the shoulder holster, took off the fedora, and looked at Ray Thorpe. He was focused on navigating the narrow dirt road.