In disguise, Wade walked up to the maid’s cleaning cart, clumsily brushing against it and startling the maid.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, ma’am, excuse me. I’m new in this area and seem to be lost. Can you tell me where I might find Adam Roy Street?”
Approaching the clumsy tourist, the maid repositioned the cart and moved to the other side so she could give better directions. A quick glance down and Wade saw the cleaning schedule on the front page of the clipboard. A few more questions showing continued confusion gave Wade a chance to see and memorize her weekly schedule for the safe house. It confirmed what the real estate agent had said. The form read “501 Adam Roy: 3-days, M, W, F, 9:00 a.m.”
“Thank you so much. I think I have my bearings now.”
“You have a nice day, sir.”
Chapter 18
Wade’s stakeout notes were copious, giving details of Mashburn’s routine. It included times and places he’d visited over the prior two days. His pattern was that he left the house twice each day. One outing included an afternoon walk around 3:00 p.m., always along the same path near the beach. The second occurred precisely at 7:30 p.m. and included dinner at one of three places, two of which were fast food.
Mashburn’s routine suggested an obsessive pattern of revisiting designated points precisely on schedule. His bedroom light remained on well into the early morning hours, indicating he might have problems sleeping. Wade told himself that this should not be a surprise, given his profession. Wade would have to keep in mind the man’s compulsive behaviors when he finally made his move.
The morning of the fourth day, the maid arrived right on schedule at 9:00 a.m. She took forty-five minutes to clean and then left for her next scheduled stop three blocks away.
Once the maid left, Mashburn pulled out, turned the car around, and backed into the driveway, then looked in all directions before opening the trunk. Moments later he reappeared with one large suitcase and two smaller ones. He placed all the suitcases in the trunk and slowly drove off. For the first time in five days, the man had broken his routine.
Mashburn craned his neck, looking side to side while driving for three blocks before he made a sharp left turn. Wade followed at a three-car distance. Mashburn doubled back on his previous route, making a standard figure-eight pattern of turns, checking for tails. At one point he stopped following his predictable patterns and took another route to a spot Wade had predicted. He let Mashburn pass before resuming his tail.
Apparently confident he was not being followed, Mashburn headed to the on-ramp of Western Highway and his intended route east to Belmopan. It was the same trip Wade had made just a few days earlier. As he followed, he wondered what Mashburn had in mind for the large suitcases in his trunk.
The jungle scenery on both sides of the highway reminded Wade of his Louisiana swamp and how much he admired the Mayan civilization for having cleared enough of this thick jungle to house a civilization using only crude tools and their bare hands.
As they approached Belmopan, he slowed enough to read the exit signs. Mashburn took the Hummingbird Highway South exit and soon left the off-ramp on Forest Drive. He turned left to Ring Road and made another right onto Cemetery Road. Mashburn slowly drove past the two columns marking the cemetery’s entrance. Wade came to a stop several blocks behind him. A tree kept his car well out of sight. With binoculars Wade tracked Mashburn’s route through the cemetery plots on each side.
Mashburn held up a paper from the front passenger’s seat. He drove slowly past two crossing cemetery streets. At the third intersection, Mashburn turned right. He was straining, trying to read headstones and comparing it to his notes. Apparently Mashburn located the name he sought on a mausoleum three burial plots away.
Wade drove to the other side of the cemetery and parked behind the shady leaves of a large elephant-ear tree. He trained his binoculars on Mashburn as he crossed over a green patch of grass and entered the service road, which put him behind the selected mausoleum. Mashburn looked in both directions before he opened his car trunk.
The side of the mausoleum was overgrown with thick shrubs extending all the way to the road. His cautious handling of the shrubs suggested they were thorny. Mashburn pulled back the shrubbery enough to make a path. He returned to the service road and looked up and down both sides again to make sure he wasn’t being observed.
Mashburn walked back to the trunk and opened the large suitcases inside. He pulled out two smaller cases made of hard black plastic that fit snugly inside the larger case. Wade sat with binoculars, well out of sight. The smaller cases he saw looked similar to heavy duty cases used to carry heavy camera or laboratory equipment.
Holding one case in each hand, Mashburn walked around the car and through the path in the shrubs he had just made. He moved the two cases into the shrubbery, handling them gently like fragile items he didn’t want broken.
After the drop Mashburn returned to the back of the car and slammed the trunk, looking up and down both sides of the service road again. He backed up and took the same route in reverse. Wade waited forty-five minutes after Mashburn left, scanning the horizon to ensure that no one was watching the drop site.
At this point, Wade wasn’t concerned about tailing Mashburn. He knew his prey would return to his hole by the seashore. Wade’s mind was cautious but curious. What’s in those cases, and why did he make the drop?
Comfortable that the site was clear, Wade drove over the same path Mashburn had used. He approached the shrubs and removed the two cases, carefully examining their exteriors. They were heavy for their size. Their locking mechanisms were an unusual design: a barrel lock incorporated into the strong metal handle. Rivets going from the handle permanently secured it to the case. There were four spools of alternating numbers and letters that made up the lock mechanism. Wade concluded the lock could easily be part of a detonation-trip device that might be triggered if the locking mechanism was breached.
Explosive classes had taught Wade that it was best not to fool around with locking mechanisms even if you thought you understood how they worked. He squelched a burning desire to spin the spools to see if he could hear the movement inside. Wade kept hearing his explosive instructor’s voice yelling warnings as he handled the cases. Instead of maneuvering the lock mechanism, he made extensive notes and photographed the cases.
After placing the cases back in the shrubbery, he made his way back to the highway and Belize City. He had a strong feeling that Mashburn would be headed back to the safe house. In Belize City, Wade passed by the house to confirm that Mashburn’s green sedan was parked in the driveway before heading to the library to check in with Yari.
“It’s me — Wade. Anything new on your end?”
Yari responded with some hesitation. “Yes, lots. But it’s somewhat confusing.”
“Let’s have it.”
“I have two calls to Condor from your location. The one last evening talked about going to a cemetery drop. The one today talked about an operative by the name of ‘Stephan’ arriving in three days. I didn’t discover much about the cemetery, but it seems he and Condor had discussed the location previously. Each seemed to know what the other was talking about.”
Wade smiled at Yari’s confusion. “I’ve already covered the cemetery drop. Two suspicious cases were placed in the shrubbery alongside a mausoleum. The cases were locked with a very strange mechanism. Did Condor ever mention what was in the cases or the combination?”
“No. They just referred to them as the ‘drop’.”
Wade wanted to know more about the new arrival. “Who is Stephan?”