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“Not now. Maybe tonight.”
There was a pause before Kennedy went on.
“Charley, I really don’t want to accidentally bump into anyone working for my former employer.”
“I understand.”
“I really hope you do. I’ll be in touch, Charley.”
The line went dead.
I wonder where he is? Probably New York, because it’s easier to be le
ss visible in a big city than a small one. But maybe Washington. Hell, he could be anywhere.
And even if the agency or the FBI somehow latched on to that call and traced it, it was almost certainly made over a cellular he bought at a newsstand and dumped in a trash can the moment he hung up on me.
I wonder what the hell he did that he’s so afraid the FBI will find him?
Castillo became aware that General and Mrs. Miller, Dick, and Betty were all looking at him.
Mrs. Miller broke the silence first. “Come in the house, Charley,” she said. “Everybody’s here to say thank you.”
“I’ve got to make a call,” Charley said. “I really do. It’s important.”
“Then we’ll give you a minute,” General Miller said.
“Why don’t you come with us, Betty,” Mrs. Miller offered, “and meet the rest of the family? Perhaps you’d like to freshen up.”
“Thank you.”
Castillo waited until they disappeared into the house and then looked at Dick Miller.
“Kennedy,” he said.
“I heard.”
“The plane is not there. It was. They tossed the seats out and loaded fuel bladders . . .”
“Loaded? Or installed? Hooked up?”
“He didn’t say. One of Pevsner’s airlines hauled the bladders from Mogadishu to N’Djamena. Then they were trucked overland to Abéché.”
“You believe him?”
Castillo nodded.
“He has no idea where the airplane is now and is really worried that I’m going to flip him to the FBI.”
“Is there a warrant out for him?”
Castillo shrugged.
“Go in the house, Dick. This won’t take me more than a minute.”
Miller looked at the house. His older brother and his aunt Belle were in the door about to come on the lawn.
“Keep me in the loop, right?” Miller said and then moved to intercept Kenneth Miller and their aunt Belle.
