Tavia said, “Lieutenant, may I remind you that Mr. Morgan works directly for General da Silva at the highest security levels for the sake of the Olympics. The only person who can have him fired and deported is the general.”
Acosta looked ready to ignite again until I said, “So let’s figure out a way to work together. Put the past behind us and start over.”
I held out my hand. The lieutenant hesitated. He really didn’t want to, but he finally took my hand and shook it firmly. “We are partners now, yes?” Acosta asked.
“Equal sharing of information, backup when and if you need it.”
Acosta thought it over briefly and then said, “I can live with that.”
We brought him up to speed fast. The lieutenant was attentive and smart in his questioning and not happy when we described the ransom drop, the release of the girls, the kidnapping of Andy Wise, and the gunfire in Central. He said the hail of bullets had been heard all over the downtown area. Foreign journalists staying at one of the new hotels were asking questions.
“This kind of Wild West thing is not what Rio needs right before the Olympic Games,” Acosta said.
Tavia threw up her hands, said, “They shot at us, Bruno. We never pulled a trigger. The back of the van flew open and this guy was there with an assault gun.”
“And no one saw a face?” the lieutenant asked. “A license plate?”
“No license plates and they all wore masks,” Tavia said.
“They even anticipated tracking devices and jammed them,” I said. “These guys are planners and bold executors.”
“And now they have the big fish,” Acosta said. “There will be a ransom demand, a large one.”
“We were thinking the same thing,”
I looked to Cherie, said, “Do you have Andy’s power of attorney?”
She nodded. “On most things.”
“Access to large amounts of cash?”
Wise’s wife thought about that, said, “I would have to get it cosigned by a trustee, but yes. How much?”
I said, “I think it’s going to be a whole lot more than before. I’d tell your trustees you may need access to as much as a hundred million dollars in the next twenty-four hours.”
Cherie looked to Lieutenant Acosta, said, “I know this might be a sore subject, but can we try to keep this quiet? Out of the press?”
The officer hesitated.
I said, “The last thing Brazil or Rio needs is the story getting out that one of the Olympic Games’ biggest benefactors was kidnapped days before the opening ceremony.”
Acosta looked frustrated, but he nodded. “We’ll do our best, Mrs. Wise.”
My cell phone rang. General da Silva.
“General?”
“There will be an autopsy of Luna Santos’s body at eight a.m. sharp at the Hospital Geral,” he said. “I expect you, Tavia, and Lieutenant Acosta to meet me there.”
I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see it was nearly seven. I really needed some sleep, but I said, “We’ll see you soon.”
Chapter 44
THE COLONIAL FRONT of the Hospital Geral featured a series of archways facing Santa Luzia Road. The arches gave way to an airy colonnade where patients were already lined up waiting for their names to be called.
Ending an overnight shift, Dr. Lucas Castro yawned as he walked through the courtyard beyond the colonnade. He decided he would stop and get an a?aí smoothie, double-dosed with guarana and other herbs to keep up his stamina. He was going to need it in the coming— The doctor stopped short. There in the colonnade he spotted three and then four people he absolutely did not want to see. Ever. Especially here, where he worked. My God, how did they… What did they…
Castro pivoted and slowly and deliberately walked away, back toward the building and the clinic. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jack Morgan, Octavia Reynaldo, General da Silva, Lieutenant Acosta, Antonio Santos, and a tall, wild-haired guy wearing a tie-dyed shirt. They were walking into the courtyard, talking, not looking his way at all.
The doctor felt ill nonetheless.
They had to be looking for him. What else would they be here for? Castro hurried into the building where he worked, took a left, and ducked into a men’s room. He stood inside the door, watching through a crack.
If they turn this way, it’s over, Castro thought, breathing hard. I go out through the window, get to the house, get what I need, and then head for the…
All six of them went right. He watched them go down the hall away from him and his office. Relieved, he told himself to wait until they disappeared before hurrying on his way.
But now he was intrigued. If they weren’t in search of him, what were they doing in the Hospital Geral? Where were they going?
Against his better judgment, Dr. Castro exited the restroom and strolled down the hall after them, keeping a few nurses and patients between them and him. They took a left and then a right, then boarded an elevator. They were going down, he saw. He ran to the stairs.
He opened the stairwell door in the basement, saw them already out of the elevator and moving away from him. There were fewer people down on the lower level of the hospital. For a second, Castro hesitated. Then he saw where they were going.