Page 18 of The Honeymoon Heist

He flagged down a cab, saying, “But I’m not walking those damn stairs one more time.”

They piled in, then took the road to the bottom, with Miles saying, “How are we supposed to be paid? Don’t tell me they’re bringing a suitcase full of cash.”

Buck laughed and said, “No, of course not. It’s a wire transfer into a bank account I set up. The same one they used to ship the painting over here.”

He saw the driver flick his eyes in the rearview mirror and Buck shook his head, telling Miles to be quiet. The cab wound through the narrow roads, passing a rare parking deck hanging out over a draw that sank for a hundred feet to a creek below. The cab slowed at a church, the driver saying in halting English, “Walk from here,” and pointed to an alley that led further down. Buck paid him and they exited, with Miles saying, “Going to the same coffee shop as before?”

“Yep. Same time, same place.”

The crowds were sparse at this hour of the morning, the majority of stores still closed and the few people in the town headed to the dock for a ferry. They wound around the stone alleys until they reached the coffee shop they’d used the day before, Buck looking around but not seeing Guido One or Guido Two. Only a couple of college kids and a table with three businessmen in suits appearing completely out of place.

He said, “Guess we got here first. Let’s grab a seat in the back.”

They sat down in a booth facing the door, and Buck saw the three businessmen stand up. Buck realized his earlier assessment had been wrong, as one of the men was an older gentleman with white hair and a cane, while the other two were much younger, and much larger, wearing sunglasses even at this early hour. It was a businessman and his security handlers. Probably someone who owned a yacht in the harbor.

To his surprise, they approached his booth. The older man stopped, looked at his security, then said, “You two stand up, please.”

And Buck realized who it was. The fabled Mr. Lorenzo Salvatore. Miles said, “Wait, what? I ain’t standing up for you.”

Buck elbowed him in the gut, drawing a gasp. He hissed, “It’s Salvatore. Stand the fuck up before they kill us right here.”

In short order they were both searched for weapons, the men acting with a professional demeanor. There was none of the bluster they’d had from the Guidos. It was simply a job, and they were good at their job. The men nodded at Salvatore, and he waved at Buck and Miles to sit back down. He slid into the opposite side, with one of the security joining him, and the other joining Buck’s bench.

Buck said, “Mr. Salvatore, I’m honored to meet you. I thought I was here to meet your other contacts that we talked to yesterday. They said I’d get paid here today, but I want it known that I want nothing to do with the killings they did last night. I did the painting thing, you have the painting, and that’s it. I don’t want to be involved in your business.”

Salvatore bored his eyes into Buck’s, and Buck retreated, saying, “I didn’t mean to insult you... I didn’t mean I don’t want the money or anything. I was happy to help with the painting... I just mean I don’t want to be involved in any killings.”

Buck looked at the security men, saw nothing because of the sunglasses, then returned to Salvatore, saying, “I’m sure those two deserved to die... I just don’t want to be involved. I do art fraud, not organized crime rubouts.”

Salvatore scratched his nose, then said, “Who do you think was killed last night?”

Buck glanced at Miles, then at the security men, and said, “Well... those two people I saw with the painting in the gallery. The ones I called about. I saw their bodies put into a van today.”

Salvatore glared at him, then said, “Those two bodies were my men. The people in the hotel are still alive.”

Buck was flabbergasted. He said, “Wait, what? I... I...”

Salvatore cut him off, saying, “You two idiots put someone on my ass that I do not need. I don’t know what sloppy things you did, but it is severely impacting my ability to operate. If they know about the forgery, and are working with the police, they have an opportunity to destroy me, much like your Al Capone. You know him, yes?”

Buck nodded and said, “Yes. They brought him down with tax fraud instead of what he was really doing.”

“It’s the same here. You brought me this painting, and now it’s going to be the death of my business because you also brought those people here.”

Miles spoke for the first time. “Sir, I was in their hotel room. They aren’t the police. They’re nothing. There was nothing there that indicated they were anything other than tourists.”

Salvatore snapped to him and said, “Nothing other than that they managed to kill two of my best men. A man and wife from America on their honeymoon?Theykilled my men? Of course there’s nothing in the hotel room to indicate anything, because they’re professionals.”

Buck took that in, drew up his courage, then said, “We had no idea. All we want is the money we’re owed. We made the forgery and brought the painting just like you asked.”

“The terms of our agreement were no compromises. The painting could not be traced back to me. And it clearly has been.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to eliminate the threat before it is found. They’re Americans, but they’re not working with the Italian police. I’ve made inquiries with my contacts, and nobody knows anything about them, which means they’re coming from your end.”

Buck protested, “Wait, that’s bullshit. Nobody in the United States had any idea I’d found that painting. This isn’t me.”

“Well, it is now. You will help me learn what they know, and then I can deal with it. Right now I’m in the dark. I need to know what they know.”

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