Monday, March 5, 2012

Chapter Sixty-seven

Hamilton, Bermuda
7:48 AM

Pinkey opened the door and let us into his home.  He was dressed in linen pants, a polo shirt and a sweater tied loosely over his shoulders.  His blond hair was brushed straight back from his tanned face.  Large white teeth gleamed as he grasped Angus' hand.  “Do come in, old boy.”
We walked through a palatial great-room toward the veranda where he had breakfast waiting.  A beautiful library lay to our left with thousands of books.  Was that a Monet on the wall?  Thief or no, Pinkey was doing well. 
We sat down beneath a vine-covered trellis next to a well-stocked sideboard.  There were trays with kippers, sausages, and eggs, and baskets overflowing with pastries.  He invited us with a wave of his manicured hand.  “Gentlemen, please help yourselves.”
My head was killing me so I asked, “Do you have any ibuprofen?  And Diet Coke?” 
To his credit he didn't even blink.  “Of course. Let me see what I can do.”
Angus laid into the food like a convict.  My head hurt too much to eat, so I sat and stared out at the other seaside villas.  Thankfully the shade from the trellis kept the sun from my eyes as my pulse throbbed in my temple.
“Will this do?” asked Pinkey.  My heart jumped in my throat. He had stealt up behind me.  I spun and spied a tray with three Diet Cokes with lime and a bucket of ice.  A small bowl held 4 ibuprofen and two Tylenol.
“I’d kiss you if my head didn't hurt so bad.”  I laughed and poured the much-needed caffeine over ice.
“I’d prefer you not, lest the wife catch on!” he chortled.  “She’s my fourth and I don’t think I can afford a number five.”
Angus glanced back to the house with a questioning eye.  Pinkey caught the look and responded “Don’t worry Angus, she is visiting her mother in Atlanta.”
“That explains the Diet Coke.” I said as I took the final two ibuprofen.
“Quite.  Though I have gotten rather fond of them myself – especially the lime ones.”  He laughed.
Nice guy.
The caffeine kicked in and my temples began to relax.  Angus wiped his face with a linen napkin and sat back.  “I’m sorry to be so rude, Pinkey, but we must get to business.  Tell me what you know about this Walters fellow.” 
Pinkey hesitated, but Angus interrupted, “Yes, and of course, the usual fees apply.”
Pinkey smiled at first, then sat up and looked at us both with a more solemn face. “Where to begin?”

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