Night Over Water - Ken Follett [146]
Anyway, he thought, what do I have to lose? He would give it a try.
He got up from his bunk.
He thought he probably should plan the whole conversation carefully, preparing his answers to Luther’s objections; but he was already screwed up to screaming pitch and he could not sit still and think any longer. He had to do it or go mad.
Holding on to anything he could grab, he picked his way along the rocking, swaying plane to the main lounge.
Luther was one of the passengers who had not gone to bed. He was in a comer of the lounge, drinking whiskey, but not joining in the card game. The color had returned to his face, and he appeared to have got over his nausea. He was reading The Illustrated London News, a British magazine. Eddie tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, startled and a little frightened. When he saw Eddie his face turned hostile. Eddie said: “The captain would like a word with you, Mr. Luther.”
Luther looked anxious. He sat still for a moment. Eddie beckoned him with a peremptory jerk of the head. Luther put down his magazine, unfastened his seat belt and stood up.
Eddie led him out of the lounge and through number 2 compartment, but instead of going up to the flight deck he opened the door of the men’s room and held it for Luther.
There was a faint smell of vomit. Unfortunately, they were not alone: a passenger in pajamas was washing his hands. Eddie pointed to the toilet and Luther went inside while Eddie combed his hair and waited. After a few moments the passenger left. Eddie tapped on the cubicle door and Luther came out. “What the hell is going on?” he said.
“Shut your mouth and listen,” Eddie said. He had not planned to be aggressive, but Luther just made him mad. “I know what you’re here for. I’ve figured out your plan, and I’m making a change. When I bring this plane down, Carol-Ann has to be on the boat waiting.”
Luther was scornful. “You can’t make demands.”
Eddie had not expected him to cave in immediately. Now he had to bluff. “Okay,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster. “The deal is off.”
Luther looked a little worried, but he said: “You’re full of shit. You want your little wife back. You’ll bring down this plane.”
It was the truth, but Eddie shook his head. “I don’t trust you,” he said. “Why should I? I could do everything you want and you could double-cross me. I’m not going to take that chance. I want a new deal.”
Luther’s confidence was not yet shaken. “No new deal.”
“Okay.” It was time for Eddie to play his trump card. “Okay, so you go to jail.”
Luther laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?”
Eddie felt a little more confident: Luther was weakening. “I’ll tell the captain the whole thing. You’ll be taken off the plane at the next stop. The police will be waiting for you. You’ll go to jail—in Canada, where your hoodlum friends won’t be able to spring you. You’ll be charged with kidnapping, piracy—hell, Luther, you may never come out.”
At last Luther was rattled. “Everything’s set up,” he protested. “It’s too late to change the plan.”
“No, it’s not,” Eddie said. “You can call your people from the next stop and tell them what to do. They’ll have seven hours to get Carol-Ann on that launch. There’s time.”
Luther suddenly caved in. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Eddie did not believe him: the switch had been too quick. His instinct told him Luther had decided to double-cross him. “Tell them they have to call me at the last stop, Shediac, and confirm that they’ve made the arrangements.”
A look of anger passed briefly across Luther’s face, and Eddie knew his suspicion had been correct.
Eddie went on. “And when the launch meets the Clipper, I have to see Carol-Ann, on the deck of the boat, before I open the doors, you understand? If I don’t see her I’ll give the alarm. Ollis Field will grab you before you can open the door, and the Coast Guard will be here before your goons can break in. So you make sure this is done exactly right or you’re all dead.”
Luther got his nerve back suddenly.