He put it down, “I hadn’t read Shakespeare in a while. It still holds up.”
“Yeah, old Willie could write.”
Hondo said, “What’s up?” I told him about the upcoming trade. Hondo said, “You know where they’re talking about?”
“I do. They’ll come in by Angels Gate Lighthouse and pass under the Vincent Thomas Bridge, then through the turning basin and into the center channel. It’s out of the way.”
Hondo smiled, “That’s to our advantage. How do you want to play it?”
“I’m going to call Deco Martinez.”
Hondo nodded, “I can hardly wait.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I didn’t sleep well. It was like pre-game jitters. The morning, though was perfect Southern California. No inversions were trapping the smog and the sky was clean and clear, with a slight breeze off the ocean that brought the smell of salt and fish and hints of faraway places.
Hondo came in the office’s front door laughing so hard he couldn’t make coffee. He wiped tears from his eyes, “Ohhh, nice fin,” then started laughing again and had to sit down at his desk holding his chest.
“Go ahead, get it out of your system,” I said. Hondo chuckled, wiped his eyes again and finally got some self-control. He looked almost back to normal, except for the dark circles under his eyes.
I said, “You must have bionic lungs. Nobody else could be near death one day and ready to go fifteen rounds two days later.”
“Maybe four, no way fifteen. I guess I’m getting old.”
“Oh sure. You still get carded at liquor stores.”
He bit into a donut and said, “Probably just my clean living. Put some cream and sugar in my coffee will you?”
We talked to Hunter at mid morning and she told us about a spectacular theft within the last year of Russian jewels from the collections in Moscow. Interpol and the Soviet government were conducting a joint investigation. Total value of the stolen artifacts was over four hundred million dollars.
Hondo said, “Using that stuff for trading cards is risky.”
“Uh-huh, but we told Mickey we’d find Landman.”
“Yeah, I didn’t mean it wasn’t worth it, just that it’s risky.”
“Aren’t you the one who told me ‘Live on the edge every once in a while, feel a little adrenaline rush.’”
Hondo grinned and finished his coffee, “Yeah, that was me.”
I said, “I thought it was.”
**
Deco called right before noon and said he had taken care of things. To cel
ebrate, Hondo and I went out to eat at James’ Beach on Venice Boulevard. For a day like this, we sat outside and people-watched as we chowed down on some delicious peppered Mako. Afterward we walked along Venice Beach and talked about the sundown meeting. Every once in a while, I lost my train of thought as an exceptionally beautiful woman or two or three caught my attention. I tell you, some of those bikinis are so small these days.
We went back to the office an hour later and both of us took a nap. When we woke up, Hondo said, “This investigator work sure takes a lot of discipline.”
“Hey,” I said, “We do it by the book.”
The rest of the afternoon, we cleaned our pistols and loitered around the office, reading books and magazines or turning the radio to different stations. Waiting is always the hardest part.
**
When it was time, we drove in Hondo’s Mercedes to San Pedro and Los Angeles Harbor. The glowing sun was a finger’s width above the horizon when we parked behind the enormous US Borax warehouse. We walked past it to the next loading dock. The smell of the sea was fresh and strong and sea gulls made their sounds and flew overhead. I looked up and saw their undersides turn glowing white as the feathers caught the sun.