As he got to his feet, he looked at his watch. The time was 15.15. He had five hours to kill before returning to the Grandi residence. He wondered if he should return to the Ace of Spades and see Marcia. He shook his head: play hard to get. He decided to take a closer look at Paradise City, and walked to where he had parked his car.
Five million dollars!
He kept thinking of owning such a sum. His mind was so occupied with visions of how he would spend money like that, he failed to observe a lean, tall youth with long greasy hair, a face like a ferret’s, wearing a T-shirt and dirty jeans, swing his leg over a powerful Honda motorcycle and come after him as Frost drove on to the highway and headed for the city.
This youth, known as Hi-Fi, worked for Mitch Goble. He was a heroin addict. Goble kept him supplied with just enough money to buy his next fix. Goble had told him to keep tracks on Frost and never let him out of his sight.
Still thinking about a possible future, Frost drove into Paradise City and parked the T.R. outside an amusement arcade. Leaving the car, he wandered into the arcade which was humming with activity. Crowds of young people jostled around spending their dimes, eating hot dogs, screaming at each other.
Frost jostled his way to the shooting range. A fat, smiling Polak handed him a rifle. It was a way to kill time, Frost thought as he settled himself and took aim at the distant target.
Hi-Fi melted into the crowd, his eyes on Frost’s broad back.
Frost had taken the centre of the target out when he heard a voice say, ‘You Frost?’
He lowered the rifle and turned to find a tall, wiry man, with a lined sun-tanned face and clear ice blue eyes at his side.
He knew at once that this man was a cop.
‘That’s me,’ he said. ‘Who are you?’
‘Tom Lepski. City police,’ Lepski grinned and offered his hand.
Lepski? Frost’s mind became very alert. He remembered Marvin had said Lepski was a first grade detective, and a good friend of his. It had been Lepski who had told Marvin that Grandi had needed a bodyguard.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Jack mentioned you.’
‘Yeah. He and I are buddies,’ Lepski said. ‘I saw the T.R. out front, so I thought I’d meet you.’
‘Glad you did.’ Frost laid down the rifle. ‘Just amusing myself.’
‘Jack said you were some shot.’ Lepski eyed the distant target. ‘Yeah... you sure are. You got a minute? Suppose we go over to Joe’s across the way for a beer?’
‘Why not?’
As they left the arcade, Hi-Fi went after them. He watched them enter the bar across the street, hesitated, then walked fast to a telephone booth. He called Silk.
‘Our creep is chatting it up with Lepski,’ Hi-Fi reported.
Silk’s face tightened. This was unexpected and bad news. Was Frost alerting the cops that Goble had propositioned him? After a moment’s thought, he decided not. Five million, to a man like Frost, was too big a temptation for him to shoot off his mouth to a cop.
‘Stay with him, but watch it,’ Silk said, and hung up.
Settled at a corner table with beers before them, Lepski said, ‘You’ve got yourself a sweet job.’ He grinned. ‘The City police are right behind Mr. Grandi. He takes care of us, so we take care of him. His daughter stays safe.’
His face expressionless, Frost nodded.
‘So Jack tells me.’
‘Have you met her yet?’
Frost shook his head.
‘Not yet. I’m on night duty this week. All I have to worry about is Amando.’
‘There’s a jerk.’ Lepski grimaced. ‘Nothing satisfies him. He bothers the Chief nearly every week. He has a bee in his nut that the girl is going to get snatched.’ Lepski laughed. ‘How can she? We keep explaining it to him, but he won’t lie down.’
‘It’s his way of earning his money,’ Frost said.
‘I guess that’s right.’ Lepski’s cop eyes swept over Frost. ‘When we heard that Amando had given Joe Davis the gate, and he had reason, we got interested in you.’ There was no smile now on Lepski’s face. ‘We heard you got the job through Joe Solomon. We know all about Joe. He’s not our favourite citizen. So we leaned on Joe and he came up with your credentials. What we learned from them, satisfied us you were right for the job. We checked the N.Y.P.D. and the F.B.I. They gave you a clearance.’ He paused, then went on, ‘There’s this thing that bothers us: you don’t stay long with a job.’ Again a pause, then he said, ‘Maybe you’ve got itchy feet.’
Frost’s mind worked swiftly. So the cops had put him under a microscope. He was too much of a cop himself to be leaned on.
‘Are you asking a question or are you just talking?’ he said quietly.
‘Call it a question.’
Frost smiled.
‘Tell me something, friend, are you asking this question because your Chief told you to ask it or are you just playing cop?’
Lepski stiffened. His Chief had given him no instructions to quiz Frost. He realised he had moved on to tricky ground.
He waved his hand airily.
‘Don’t get me wrong. Let me explain. We don’t want Gina Grandi snatched. Right now, we know she has total protection. There is no way to get at her unless there is an inside man, and if an inside man appears, she could get snatched. We have screened everyone living at the villa: all of them are okay. So you appear on the scene. So we screen you. Get the photo?’
Frost nodded.
‘Sure... sure, but that doesn’t answer my question.’ He finished his beer. ‘Are you interrogating me because you have instructions from your Chief or are you a first grade detective after further promotion?’ He leaned forward, staring at Lepski. ‘I’ve been on the force. I know how it works. I know all about guys who lean on people to get promotion. I did it myself, but nobody leans on me. So you talk to your Chief. Tell him, I’ll tell him anything he wants to know. I have nothing to hide, but I don’t — repeat don’t — get leaned on by a first grade detective.’ He got to his feet. ‘Okay with you, Lepski?’
Lepski stared up at him, then before he could think of anything to say, Frost gave him a broad smile and walked out of the bar.
Hi-Fi was sitting astride his Honda as Frost walked to his car. He gunned the motor and moved into the traffic as Frost drove down the main street.
Frost’s mind was busy. He was uneasy. Had he handled Lepski right? he asked himself. The last thing he wanted was to make an enemy of a cop, but he couldn’t let Lepski lean on him. He shrugged. Maybe it wasn’t important, but what was important was that the cops had reached the same conclusion as Silk had done: to snatch Gina, there had to be an inside man.
Frost drove aimlessly towards Miami. He still had some hours before returning to Villa Orchid. The traffic was light. He kept looking into his rear mirror as good drivers do, and he picked up Hi-Fi tooling along behind him. Hadn’t he seen this creep before? Frost frowned. He remembered seeing him on the deserted beach when Frost had been sitting in the shade, thinking. Now here he was again. Was he being tailed? He grinned. He studied Hi-Fi in the driving mirror: a punk: one of Silk’s stooges?
Reaching Miami, he swung off Bay-shore Avenue and on to S.W. 17th avenue, then turned left on to Miami avenue. The Honda followed him.
So he was being tailed!
Frost doubled back and headed for Paradise City. He was relaxed, humming to himself.
On the outskirts of the city, he left the highway and drove down a sandy road to the beach. Leaving the car, he walked fast to a clump of sea palms, hearing the noise of the Honda as it came down the road.
He dropped out of sight on hands and knees and waited.
He heard the Honda motor die.
Hi-Fi was nervous. Leaving his motorcycle, he walked slowly down the sandy path, sweat on his face. He had been told not to let Frost out of his sight. He knew if he didn’t obey orders his heroin money would stop.