The 16mm Caper

Chapter 45

Mary left the elevator with several other women, all laughing and talking as they made their way across the marble lobby to the glass doors of the office building. As they emerged into the bright sunlight she paused, seeing the figure of Peter perched on a wall alongside the office tower's manicured gardens.

She hesitated and then said something to the group, waving goodbye as they all pranced off, and then she turned and stared at him. Peter hopped down and strolled slowly toward her, building what he hoped to be a happy, open and hopeful smile.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, apparently not impressed with his effort.

"I wanted to see you, to talk to you. When we parted you were holding a fist toward me, I hoped that by waiting a while and then coming to you, we might- I might try explaining."

"Explaining what?" She turned and began moving along the path around the garden wall.

Peter followed. "Why we did what we did and what has happened since." He took her arm, stopping her. "I miss you, Mary, a lot."

She faced him squarely, searching his eyes for any hint of deceit. "What's happened, Peter, that you suddenly felt you needed me again?"

"Dammit all, Mary, I never stopped! It was you that blew apart over- over--"

"Over your criminal activity?" She turned and started walking again.

"That's what you chose to call it," he said catching up again and rounding in front of her. "Just listen to me a minute will you?

They sat on a bench under a large Oak tree in a quiet part of the garden watching a black squirrel size them up for a possible treat source before scampering away and holding on upside down to the rugged trunk of the tree.

Mary had listened and had not said a word and now Peter was simply waiting for a response to his story. She didn't move, and a sideways glance told him she was deep in thought about what he had said. Taking a huge risk, he reached inside his jacket and withdrew an envelope, handing it to her.

"What's this?" She eyed the piece without taking it.

"It's something for you." He pushed it into her hand.

Reluctantly she took it and opened it, gasping and gaping at the same time. "Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!"

"Your share less fifty thousand that you have equally and jointly invested with the rest of us."

She looked at him, her mouth working in complete astonishment as she calculated what he was inferring. "You're telling me that we- you got over two million dollars?"

"All totalled, yes." He smiled warmly. "This was your share, Mary. Between us we have over half a million dollars . . . that is, if there is an us."

******

Dylan hung up the phone and jotted down an address then turned as Catlin came up behind him and wrapped her arms about his neck.

"Who was that, hon?"

"A client, my dear. Someone who requires the expertise of, At Your Service Limousine."

"When?"

"As we speak." He tilted his head up and kissed her, standing and giving her a squeeze before disengaging and grabbing his log book and uniform cap.

"Can't Willy take this one for a change? I just got rid of the kids to Gary's birthday party."

Dylan shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, Cat, they asked for me personally."

"Do you know them?"

"Nope. Said they were referred."

"By whom?"

"Jeez, Cat, I don't know. I'll ask when I meet them. I gotta scoot. See you later."

The woman was waiting in the shade of the awning by the jewellery store as directed. Her wide brimmed hat and extra large dark glasses obscured her features and she didn't move until Dylan had pulled up and jumped out to run around and get the door.

"Dylan Brewer, At Your Service Limousine, ma'am." He opened the rear door and gave her a hand inside, then dashed around and got behind the wheel." He busied himself making his entry in his log, noting the time and location. "May I have your name and destination, ma'am?"

"Pearson Airport parking garage. My husband left his car there for me when he flew to Europe."

"He should have had them deliver it back to you," Dylan said. "It's a service they provide - for a fee of course." He looked in the mirror, smiling. "Uh, and your name, please?"

"I'll give you my card but could we please get going, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

He watched her rifle in her purse and with a sigh, put the limo in gear and sped away from the curb into the line of fast moving traffic.

"Oh dear, I know it's in here somewhere," He heard her muttering to herself and he shook his head, turning from the main street onto the ramp of the expressway. Dylan settled into a comfortable ninety kilometres an hour speed and leaned back into the plush seat.

"Here it is," she said suddenly and he looked in the mirror, his eyes springing open and his foot stuttering on the gas pedal. "Mrs. Peyton!"

"Don't do anything foolish, Mr. Brewer. Just continue on to the airport parking." The gun rested for a moment on his shoulder and then moved away as the woman removed her glasses and he saw that it was Julia Peyton. "Don't bother with any questions or phony explanations, Dylan. Just drive."

He dropped one hand to the seat, and appeared to be supporting himself as he drove, letting his fingers creep slowly and carefully to his radio mike on the console. "What are you plan--"

"I said no questions." The gun jabbed his back and he flipped the switch on the mike and pressed the receiver mute button. His eyes found hers in the mirror and he sucked in a relieved breath when she didn't seem suspicious. The traffic was heavy and he tried to slow his speed without her noticing.