The Trouble With Cash by John H. Paterson

Author:John H. Paterson [John H. Paterson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

In the morning, I picked up Marlon at his apartment.

He was renting a room in a house in a neighbourhood close to the town centre called Brasilia. As we drove south on the Inter-Americana toward the car dealer I asked him if he'd spoken to someone about getting out of the country.

“Yes, I met with a guy last night who can do it. His name is Carlos Quesada. He has a good reputation,” said Marlon.

“Did he give you a price?”

“Yes, twenty thousand. Half up front and the rest when I get to Ecuador,” he said.

“What about timing?”

“He said it depended on the schedules, but I could be on a boat out of Golfito in a week or two,” he answered.

It was Saturday so the banks were closed but I had enough cash to pay for the car. We spent the next few hours doing the paperwork to get it registered in Marlon's name.

I left my car at the shopping mall and we drove together from there. We continued about twenty minutes south of San Isidro on the Inter-Americana to the point where the highway crosses the Rio General. We turned off the highway and on to a smaller road that paralleled the river.

We checked out a few side roads until we found one that led to an abandoned gravel pit beside the river. I parked as close to the river as I could.

We got out of the car and looked around.

“What do you think? A good spot for a murder?” I asked Marlon.

“Perfect,” he said. “Away from the road, no houses nearby, and a raging river to take away the body.”

“Good,” I said and opened the trunk of the car and pulled the pistol out of my knapsack.

I loaded six good bullets into the cylinder and gave the gun to Marlon. Then I stepped back and turned on my phone's video recorder.

Marlon held up the gun and gave one of his classic smiles for the camera.

“Hi, I'm Marlon Gutierrez and this is Saturday July 16th,” he said. ”I'm faking my death so I can get out of the country without anyone looking for me.” Then he turned and emptied the gun shooting four holes through the floor of the trunk and putting two into the spare tire, making sure to hit the rim leaving the slugs inside the tire. I turned off the camera.

“Nice work,” I said. “You're a natural in front of the camera.”

“I know that,” he said beaming.

We placed a couple of small rocks by the front tires to mark the location of the car. Then I loaded the six empty bullets into the pistol explaining what they were to Marlon and gave it to him along with the rest of the good bullets.

We drove back to town picking up my car at the mall and later dropping Marlon's new wheels at his apartment. It was early afternoon and we were getting hungry so stopped for a burger at a restaurant on the highway called Bazooka's. After

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