Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

Igor’s job, go do his job.”
    Todd stared at him but did not reply.
    “Now, I will give you a gift,” Majorov said. “There is a woman who works in this establishment who knows Billy Burnett, who spent a night in his bed at this Shutters place. She says she doesn’t know how to contact him, but she is lying. Her name is Charmaine.” He scribbled something on a sheet of paper. “Here is her address, her phone number, and the number of her room in this hotel, where she rests between shifts.” He stapled a photograph to the sheet. “And here is what she looks like.” He shoved the paper across the desk.
    Todd picked it up, looked at it, and stood up. “All right,” he said. “I’ll need some cash.”
    “How much?”
    “Ten thousand dollars.”
    Majorov took a small pad from his desk drawer, wrote the amount on it, and signed it. “The casino cashier will give you the money.”
    Todd took the chit and left the suite.

Teddy worked until three, then went home and spent an hour going through his Barnett identity, cleaning up details, until he was satisfied that everything stood up. Something was nagging at him, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.
    Then he sat down with the latest issue of
Flying
magazine and on the last pages it came to him. He was reading an article that praised the work of Hawthorne Aircraft Painting, based at Hawthorne Airport. He picked up the phone and called them.
    “My name is Barnett,” he said. “I have an airplane parked at Hawthorne that I’d like partially repainted.”
    “Where is the airplane?” the man asked.
    “At Million Air. It’s a JetPROP.”
    “I’ll run over there and have a look at it,” the man said. “What did you want painted?”
    “The airplane is red over white, with black striping. It’s fairly new, but I’ve never liked red.”
    “So you want just the top color changed?”
    “That’s right.”
    “What color would you like?”
    “I think a dark green, and I’d like the tail number in white and the stripes in a metallic gold.”
    “All right, Mr. Barnett. I’ll call you back in an hour.”
    Fifty minutes later, Teddy and Hawthorne Aircraft Painting had a deal, and since the shop had had a cancellation, it would be done quickly. That little bit of anxiety had vanished, and he felt much better.
    He called Charmaine on her throwaway number.
    “Hey,” she said. “How are you?”
    “Just fine,” he replied. “I’ve got a part-time job that I’m enjoying.”
    “Doing what?”
    “I’ll tell you when I see you.”
    “When will that be?”
    “As soon as you like.”
    “I’ve got a long weekend off, starting Friday.”
    “What time will you leave Vegas?”
    “About four.”
    “Then we’ll meet at seven, like before?”
    “That’s fine. Where?”
    “I’ll call you when you’re on the way. Any noise from Genaro?”
    “He invited me to a meeting with Majorov. You were the subject. I didn’t give them anything.”
    “Good girl. Do you own a red scarf?”
    “Yes, a silk one.”
    “If you think you’re being followed, wear it around your neck, then go to the restaurant as planned and have a drink at the bar. I’ll catch up with you, or call you with a new location.”
    “Got it,” she said. “I’ll call you around five on Friday. Do you have a new number?”
    He gave it to her. “See you Friday.” He hung up.
    •   •   •
    Todd found the hotel room where Charmaine spent her rest periods and tapped lightly on the door.
    “Who is it?” a woman’s voice called out.
    “Hotel services. I have to change the lock on your door.” He smiled into the peephole.
    “Just a minute,” she answered. “Let me get decent.”
    He waited patiently until the door began to open, then he pushed it hard, knocking her back a few paces. She was wearing a hotel robe, and her hair was wet. She seemed too shocked to scream.
    Todd swung hard and struck her cheek and ear with the flat of his right hand, knocking her nearly unconscious. He grabbed her hair and jerked her to her feet, then he stripped off the robe, pushed her onto the bed, and sat on her. Holding his left hand over her mouth, he reached into a back pocket, retrieved a switchblade, and held it to her face. “Scream, and I’ll cut you, understand?”
    She nodded.
    He moved his hand from her mouth to her throat. “This is how it is,” he said quietly, but with threat in his voice. “I want to find Billy Burnett, and I know you know how to do that. If you