David L. Robbins by The Betrayal Game

Author:The Betrayal Game
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

★ ★ ★

Compromiso Street

Luyano

Havana

CALENDAR HAD NO UMBRELLA and he wore no slicker.

Drenched, he stood in the backyard of the safe house, puzzled.

Under a tarp drizzling rainwater was Felix’s Cadillac. Calendar recognized the car’s big outline, the distinctive fins. What was it doing back here? Why was it covered?

He approached, keeping an eye on the windows of the stucco house to see if anyone noticed his arrival. Something was out of whack; he kept himself ready to bolt in the opposite direction at the first sign of trouble.

He reached the car and took one long, careful glance in every direction. Lifting the tarp beside the driver’s window, he muffled a curse.

Streaks of rusty blood were smeared across the seat back, finishing at twin dribbles and dark patches on the passenger side. More Robb_9780553804423_3p_all_r1.qxp 11/1/07 7:31 AM Page 202

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blood had dried on the steering wheel and shifter. Calendar tugged the tarp back to check the rear seat. It was clean. Only the driver and passenger had bled. His gut tightened.

Calendar dropped the tarp. He looked one more time to the rear of the safe house. No one watched him. He mopped water out of his eyebrows. Time to go inside and get rid of the heartburn that busted plans always gave him.

The kitchen door was unlocked. Calendar quietly pushed in. No one greeted him. He grabbed a dish towel off a rack to dry his face, arms, and hands. Then he stepped into the living room.

Felix sat collapsed in a chair in the center of the room, head slumped to his chest. By his color, Calendar could tell he’d lost a lot of blood. Felix looked up. He was not tied to the chair. His arms hung lifeless at his sides. Crimson dribbled down his long forearms below his guayabera. Felix’s big fingers dripped into red pools shining on the marble floor. Both shoulders had been badly gashed. Felix’s wounds looked professionally done.

Calendar wasn’t sorry for him.

In front of Felix stood Lammeck. The professor’s right arm was also drenched in blood. Four others from Felix’s cadre of gamblers stood behind Lammeck.

Weakly, Felix parted his lips to say something. Calendar spoke first.

“Professor.”

Lammeck’s bearded face seemed blank, as drained as Felix’s.

Calendar beckoned him with a curling finger. “In the kitchen.”

Felix dropped his head.

Calendar waited for Lammeck to shuffle past him into the little kitchen. He pointed at one of the men.

“Diego, get out back. Clean that car inside and out.”

The mulatto started to object because of the rain, then shut his Robb_9780553804423_3p_all_r1.qxp 11/1/07 7:31 AM Page 203

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mouth. He stalked past Calendar to grab paper towels and a bucket from a closet. To the three others around bleeding Felix, Calendar held up a flat palm, for them to stand pat and do nothing until he said otherwise.

In the kitchen, Calendar added to his directions for Diego: keep the Cadillac under the tarp until dark, then drive it to Matanzas; strip the license plates and leave the car with the keys in the ignition.

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