Night Moves (Doc Ford) - By RandyWayne White Page 0,52

in the international community. Diemer was an articulate man, picky about assignments, who specialized in recovering compromising letters, photographs, and videos for blackmail victims. Contract assassination was the natural and more lucrative next step. Vargas Diemer, according to Bernie, had amassed a fortune working for a jet-set clientele—the politically powerful and ultrawealthy whom the Brazilian had met on the social circuit.

I’d been looking for someone who might want to kill me. Well, here was somebody in my own backyard. Automatically, I connected Diemer’s Sanibel visit with the Muslim cleric who had vanished after burying his teeth in my forearm. This wouldn’t be the first time a fatwa had been issued declaring that, as adjudged by Islamic Law, I deserved to be executed. But then, as I thought about it, I wasn’t so sure. Hire a Germanic Brazilian pro to mete out Muslim revenge? Money wouldn’t have been a problem, but that was not the way the religious crazies usually work.

Bernie had agreed with me. “There’s not much on this man, Diemer. Never is in his particular line of work—the true craftsmen, I’m saying. As if I’m telling you! For one thing, he’s not Muslim. He’s Lutheran—still attends church when he’s not building toy planes or tying those whadda-ya-call-its . . . the feathers at the end of a fishing pole. If Arizona had an ocean, maybe I should know the word, but it’s slipped my mind.”

“He ties flies?” I’d asked. Yes, it turned out, Vargas Diemer was also a fly fisherman, which is why I had paid attention to the Brazilian’s reaction when I’d mentioned fishing.

“Fish that eat flies,” Bernie had grimaced. “So remind me next time not to order the fish. But, yes, this is what I am telling you. Professional thieves and assassins with money sometimes take vacations. You know, get away from the hustle-bustle of killing and stealing for profit when he’s not flying around in jet planes. Fishermen love Florida, that is the rumor, so maybe it’s a coincidence, but maybe not. Either way, stay out of this man’s way, Marion . . . or stay very close and watch him.

“Personally, what I think you should do is take a vacation yourself. Four bedrooms in this house of mine, so much room we wouldn’t have to see each other’s faces ’till cocktail time. Since Helen died, I wander around and get lost, the place is so big, don’t ask me why I keep it. Like I keep telling you, Scottsdale isn’t perfect, but it’s better than a bullet in the head.”

Now as I watched Diemer savor his wine and cigar, it seemed even more unlikely he had accepted a contract to kill me. He was a fishing enthusiast, that was evident even from his mild response. And why would an elite pro risk something so obvious as using my own marina as a base? If the man was being paid to watch me or even steal something from my files, it was possible. Otherwise, Diemer’s presence was at odds with the four basics of a successful hit: anonymity, surprise, disposal, and escape.

Murder is easy. Eliminating a target, then disappearing unnoticed, is not. It would be doubly difficult if the killer owned a fifty-foot custom-built yacht that was moored a hundred yards from his victim’s home.

Sanibel Island is a favorite destination of the affluent who keep a low profile: the famous, the wealthy, international politicos. Could one of them be his target? But I couldn’t think of anybody staying there now who would fit. Or . . . had Diemer been assigned a person within striking distance of the islands? I thought of Tomlinson. I thought of Futch.

Either way, Bernie had been right. Diemer—Alberto Sabino—required watching.

Less troubling, after speaking to Yeager, was the Stiletto ocean racer. Dark rumors about the boat were already being exaggerated by locals, but they were baseless, apparently. As Donald Cheng had confirmed, the vessel was owned by a Miami company that sponsored boats in the Offshore Grand Prix, an annual May series, and the Key West International races in November. In Florida, there’s a megalist of tournaments and events that appeal to the big-business types who mix recreation with profit. Still, it was odd that the boat’s occupant had yet to appear, but should that oddity concern me? I recalled the maxim Bernie had shared:

The fact that unexplained elements are noted within a similar time frame while in the field does not guarantee those elements are linked, or are even significant.

It was

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