The Last Witness (Badge of Honor 11)
Page 71
Two keys. Two thousand grams.
“Four hundred grand on the street,” Captain Jack had said.
Cut that once, eight hundred thousand bucks.
And it’s never cut just once.
“Don’t lose it. I hear people get killed in Philly for a pair of sneakers.”
“My favorite is the Last Supper,” the desk agent then said.
“Excuse me?”
“The mural of the Last Supper at the cathedral,” she said. “It’s my favorite.”
He nodded as he thought, That’s fitting.
Jesus’ last meal with his disciples before he was killed.
This could very well be my version of it.
The desk agent went on: “I heard that Peter and Paul was built to celebrate the end of slavery. Is that right? That’s what Market Square here was, the Caribbean’s largest slave auction.”
End of slavery? There’s been no end! I’m being enslaved now.
Okay. Try to act normal. Answer the damn question.
“That’s All Saints you’re thinking of. The Cathedral Church of All Saints on Garden Street?”
“Really?”
Act normal . . .
He nodded. “You’re certainly not the first. They’re pretty much from the same period. Construction started on All Saints about the time Saints Peter and Paul was completed. Back then, when merchant ships docked here to transport the mahogany and sugar products—sugar itself, and the molasses and rum made here from it—the ballast from the cargo holds would be left on the dock to make room. Those huge arched windows in All Saints are lined with those yellow bricks. That was the ship ballast.”
And now it’s airplanes shipping bricks of coke.
“Fascinating,” she said. “God bless you for your talent in preserving that important cathedral.”
She handed him his ticket.
“Well, I have you upgraded to first class, our compliments. We appreciate your regular business.”
“Thank you. Very nice.”
Great. Free booze. I can drink my last supper.
“See you when you return, Mr. Garvey. Vaya con Dios.”
—
As John Garvey stood at the security checkpoint removing his wallet and all things metal from his person, he realized that he’d been wrong about the ridiculous ritual that was the Transportation Security Administration’s screening.
It really can get worse than the government-sanctioned and taxpayer-funded public groping.
You can be afraid of being arrested as a drug smuggler.
He cleared security with no problem.