“When it comes to Scruffy, it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t like him. We’ve gotten past the first answer, so I’ll listen to your proposition.” Cupping his hands behind his head while he placed his feet on the top of the desk, “So how big is this haul of cocaine that you mentioned.”
“Three hundred kilograms.”
“Christ, that is big. My plane can handle three hundred kilograms, but are you sure they’ll fit?”
“I know.”
“How would you know?”
“I’ve got a copy of ‘Jane’s Airplanes of the World.’ It’s right in there.”
“How much is it worth?”
“Well, a gram should go for at least a hundred.”
“But how much did your people pay for it?”
“I understand about a million.”
“But they don’t trust you enough to tell you the exact amount.”
“Look Mr. Davis. I am just a peon in the organization. But I know for a fact that the people I represent paid no more than a million for it. They’d kill me if they knew I told you. The dealers will surely step on it. Most of them step on it with baby laxative. This should leave some people shitting for weeks. I can’t give you an idea of how much it’s worth when it’s been stepped on. They’ll probably step on it and then sell it for a hundred a gram.”
“Whose money is it?”
“It’s better you didn’t know. Look, Mr. Davis, I’m a paranoid man who’s survived by his paranoia.”
“Don’t be coy, Mr. Hewlett. Whose money is it? I won’t fly until I know.”
“Who do you think?”
“I think it’s the mob’s. Only they’d have the funds.”
Hewlett nodded, “You’re a pretty good guesser.” He nodded and then ran his hand through his hair.
“It’s not the cartel’s though, is it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You sure?”
“Mr. Davis, the only thing that I am certain of right now is that the sun will rise in the east and descend in the west.”
“Well, I guess that’s as good as I can get. I wouldn’t fly for the cartels. The Colombian cartels are just too fucking crazy for me.” Skeeter paused and took a deep slug of his Michelob. “Well, back to business. Give me a hard figure on how much this cargo is worth to you?”
“I’d like to keep the numbers between just me and my investors.”
“I’ll do the job for you. Yeah, I’ll do it, but only if I know how much the cargo’s worth. How much are they paying for this product?”
“For the three hundred kilograms they’re paying about a million. Who knows how much it’ll bring on the streets when they get it on the streets of Miami.” Hewlett felt a migraine coming on. These past weeks had been tense, and tension brought on his headaches. He never liked talking plain monetary figures, especially when they added up quite like they did in this case. He almost always got a migraine when he thought of the mob too much. Alcohol would only make the headache worse. He applied the cold bottle, beaded with condensation, to his forehead. It felt good. Still, it didn’t mask the pain he felt from the migraine.
“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You get headaches just like my daughter, the budding beauty queen. She gets migraines. The first thing she does is go to the refrigerator and find a cold bottle of Coke or Heineken and presses it against her forehead. Then she goes for the pain medication she keeps in the top drawer of her bureau. She sees some quack in Palm Beach who gives it to her. Something with codeine; something to take the edge off the pain. But she’s an uptight little filly. Tell me, Mr. Hewlett, are you the nervous type?”
“I’m more the paranoid type.” For a few moments nothing was said.
“That’s the only way to be in this business. To tell you the truth, I‘m more the paranoid type, too. I thought you might be. I’ve got some Anacin in the medicine cabinet back in the bathroom, if that would help.”
“No, I’ll be okay. They usually come and go within a half hour or so, if I take my medication. Give me a minute,” he said as he reached down in his pack for an Imitrex tablet.
They’ll step on it; then, they’ll step on it again. If they step on it by half, it would be worth up to twenty to forty million dollars on the street.” Skeeter whistled but continued to look him straight in the eye. “That goes no further than you or me. I hear you told someone, the deal’s off. I’ll deny I ever spoke to you.”
“Speak up,” said Davis. “I can’t hear you.” A pirate’s smile creased his face.
“So you see, the value is a little hard to estimate.”
Davis pulled his feet from the top of the desk, sitting forward in his chair. “Now you’re talking. Don’t worry. I’m not about to tell anyone a thing.”
“They’d kill me.”
“Like I said, I’m not talking. Besides you can always say that I needed the weight to calculate the weights and balances on the plane.”
“Just so we understand.”
“That’s more than I could get out of your partner the one time I worked for him. Those are scary numbers.”
“Tell me about it. How much did they spend on getting the cocaine?”
“Perhaps a mill. I can’t be sure. It’s one thing that they won’t tell me. It must almost be pure to put that kind of money into it. They plan to sell it for twice as much.”
“The man from Sicily told me it was as pure as it gets. So did Jake.”
“Fuck Jake. Fuck Jack and fuck all the Jakes in this business. Fuck their bullshit. This business is rife with people like your cousin. If I had my way I’d line them all up against a wall and shoot them. Give me an honest man anytime. It’s just you and me here, Mr. Hewlett. As far as I’m concerned, my business is with you and not with Mr. Jacob Townsend. Understand? I think he’s playing you like a soccer ball. Kicks you one way and then spins you another.”
“Jake might not be the best one to trust in a tight situation, but he’s not pulling the strings. The mob is. I’m giving you the numbers they gave me. They wanted me to be particularly discreet when I sought out your services. Your problem with Jake is one thing, but this is another.” Hewlett stood up and took out his money clip. He counted out ten hundred-dollar bills. “This should clear up the debt that Jake has with you. From here on out, it’s just you and me. Jake has nothing to do with this.”
“Hallelujah.”
“Now we’re through with the bullshit.”
“So how much would you charge to ferry…such freight?”
“For