Coincidence - Alan May [19]
There was way too much negativity in that one, Juan thought. And he hated negativity.
“Bueno,” Juan said. “Everyone’s gonna have to move fast at this point. Severo and I gonna put the bodies in the back of truck number three. Severo will take them down the driveway to behind the barn, where we—where you,” he corrected himself with a small snort, “will have dug a hole big enough for six. He’s gonna wait there until someone comes to help him with the funeral.
“Meantime, Stefano’s gonna jump into truck number two—that’s the van with the coke in it—and drive it down the dirt road to the beach, where he’ll meet up with Phillip. Polo’s gonna get over his fright at the big bad men with guns and clear any crap from the accident off the road, and then drive the SUV into the barn. Esteban will drive truck number one into the barn. If either of the trucks don’t start after the crash, I can tow them in with the Jimmy. As soon as the trucks are inside, Polo and Esteban gonna go help Severo dump the bodies and fill in the hole.”
Yeah, Severo thought. Typical Juan. He sits in the Jimmy while we do all the work. And then he gets all the credit for his brilliant plan.
“While all this is happening, Phillip’s gettin’ the Two Wise ready. At 1:15 he’ll take the tender to the beach. When Stefano gets there, they start transferring the bales to the tender. As soon as the bodies are buried and the grave’s covered up, I’ll drive you guys” —he nodded toward Polo, Esteban, and Severo—“to the beach in the Jimmy. Esteban, you and Severo gonna help carry bales. When all the stuff’s out of the van, Polo will drive it back to the barn. I’ll drive the Jimmy. We lock up the barn and the house and then come back to the beach on the moped.
“When we get all the bales onboard the Two Wise, we put the moped on the tender. We drop it into the water about halfway out, then haul the tender up onto the boat, weigh anchor, and head for Easter Island—six millionaires on a cruise.”
Juan looked out the window for a few seconds, oblivious to the rain streaking down the grimy panes, smiling at this picture. Then he turned back to the others. His eyes were steely.
“We got just over forty-five minutes to do the whole job.”
Jesus y Maria, Severo thought. The man is loco if he thinks this is gonna work.
In truth, all of the men except Juan and Stefano were having doubts about the viability of the plan. Forty-five minutes, start to finish? But they knew better than to question Juan. And if by some miracle it actually worked …
The only thing left to do was practice. Every day for the next seven weeks, Juan studied the traffic pattern on the road. Only twice did a car come by near the time scheduled for the “accident.” As unlikely as it was that that would happen on the actual day, they had to be prepared. Just one carload of adventuresome tourists deciding to get off the beaten track and experience the “real Colombia,” or one old couple taking it into their heads to drive their wagon into town on a weekday instead of Saturday when the big market was open—just one fluke like that would screw everything up. It would be up to Stefano, squatting across the road amid thick ropes of thunbergia vines, to “deal with the situation,” as Juan put it. He would do so, it was understood, with his semiautomatic rifle.
Every day for the next seven weeks, rain or shine, Severo drove the Jimmy, at thirty miles per hour, past the driveway while Polo barreled down in the SUV and skidded onto the road, missing the Jimmy by five seconds. On the actual day, Polo would start five seconds earlier.
During those seven weeks, Severo and Esteban dug the grave hole behind the barn without complaint. They didn’t complain, even though it was backbreaking work and the heat was almost overpowering.