Cut to the Chase (49 page)

‘Juan?'

‘The waiter, what was his name…Rivera?'

‘Ah! Rivera. We think he was involved in the attempted canal boat heist. He was probably the one who escaped in the motorised dinghy. We haven't caught him yet.'

‘He didn't strike me as Indonesian.'

‘He isn't, he's a Spaniard. We know him well, we've crossed paths before. He's a mercenary, pay him enough and he'll do anything, or kill anybody. He's a bastard.'

‘Oh Christ! He's still loose?'

‘I shouldn't worry; you'll be safe enough now. The reason they were trying to kill you was to prevent Kalim's involvement becoming public knowledge. Now we all know, as does Jakarta. Rivera won't bother you now, what's the point? Let's assume he kills you…' Wallace blenched and McKay waved his hand in a placatory fashion: ‘…sorry Harry, just thinking aloud. But if he did, who is going to pay him? Kalim's no longer in circulation, and knowing Rivera; he doesn't do anything or take any risk for nothing. Continuing to go for you would be quite pointless.'

‘I hope you're right.'

‘I am right,' said McKay. ‘Trust me! Incidentally, what are you going to do about your wife?'

‘Ex-wife,' Wallace corrected him. ‘Now
that
is something I really am looking forward to. I have to let her know that her expectation of $500,000 is something of an illusion.'

McKay grinned broadly.

‘You're a cruel bastard,' he said. ‘Well, until the next time, eh?'

‘See you later,' Wallace said and they shook hands again, McKay gave him a wave as he drove off.

Wallace turned towards Ben's house and realised that Liz was standing by the gate. They stared at each other and then he crossed the road and held her tight.

‘I've been so worried,' she said.

‘How about a trip to New York and California?' Wallace said.

‘Sounds good,' she said.

After depositing their cases at the main check-in, Wallace and Liz bade farewell to Saul Prosser and his wife, who had driven them to Heath Row Airport. They joined the queue of intending passengers with their hand luggage and slowly moved forward towards the electronic detectors. Wallace was gripping his travelling case in one hand and holding onto Liz's hand with the other. She was dressed for travelling in a tight nylon top and jeans, every time he looked at her he could feel his sap rising. He estimated it would be about five hours before they reached their hotel in New York. He looked at her with immense pride that she was with him, felt a pleasurable sense of anticipation and thought longingly of the forthcoming New York hotel bedroom. He squeezed her hand.

She gave his hand a squeeze in return, then turned to him and said.

‘Who's that man over there?'

‘Over where?' Wallace asked and she pointed. He looked and saw about 30 feet away a man who also had with him a travelling bag which lay at his feet. He was wearing a cloth cap, and was dressed in sports jacket and grey slacks. He was clean shaven, and had piercing brown eyes. He was in another queue, for a European flight.

He was staring at Wallace, and as Wallace caught his eye recognition suddenly dawned, despite the absence of the moustache he had possessed before. Adrenalin coursed through his veins. Then a half smile crossed the other's features, he raised both hands, with palms facing Wallace and then he inclined his head on one side. Stunned with surprise, Wallace stared back at him, then their queue moved up and Wallace was at the electronic detector. Liz and Wallace placed their bags on it, and as he moved through it he looked back at the other queue that was similarly moving. Rivera had just picked up his bag and was still there; he raised one hand in salute, nodded and gave a half smile. Wallace gave him a nod in acknowledgement. Then he lost sight of him in the throng.

‘Who was that?' asked Liz.

‘That was…' Wallace still wondered if he had been dreaming. ‘…just someone I met in business, we were competing against each other once.'

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