The Naked Edge

^{"For a hundred. Right?"}

^{"Did I say a hundred? I made a mistake."}

^{"A scam. Damn it, I figured this was too good to be--"}

^{"What I meant was two hundred."}

^{"You're kidding."}

^{"One hundred now. One hundred when you bring me what's in the locker."}

^{"And what's in--"}

^{"A briefcase."}

^{The guy's eyes reacted.}

^{"Want to make a bet?" Carl asked.}

^"Bet?"

^{"That I know what you're thinking. You figure the briefcase must contain something really valuable for me to pay two hundred dollars to get it. And you're right. There are many valuable things in it. So your plan would be to take the hundred dollars and steal the briefcase. After all, if I don't feel comfortable going into the station, I must have a reason I don't want to be seen, and that means I won't report the theft to the police. Right?"}

^{The guy's face now radiated suspicion. "Something like that."}

^{Carl gripped the arm that wasn't holding the guitar. Immobilizing him, he removed the guy's wallet from his back pocket.}

^{"Hey," the musician said, struggling.}

^{"Shut up, or I'll break your guitar." Carl studied the driver's license. "Okay, Kenny Barrington." Carl read the address out loud. He found a photograph of a young woman. "Pretty. She your girl friend?"}

^{No answer.}

^{" Four hundred dollars, Kenny. Half now, half when you come back with the briefcase. If I don't see you back here in five minutes, the next time you see me , it'll be the sorriest night of your life. And your girl friend's life. Sound fair?"}

^{"Uh . . ."}

^{"Here, Kenny. Here's two hundred dollars and the key. I'll hold your guitar for you. Be cool, my friend. Easy money."}

^{Minutes later, when the musician came back with the briefcase, Carl watched from a distance. The guy looked around in bewilderment, then focused on a black kid sitting next to his guitar.}

^{Carl imagined what the kid told him. "Somebody paid me ten bucks to tell you to go into that Starbucks over there and buy some coffee."}

^{If the musician had warned the police about a man who paid him four hundred dollars to get a briefcase out of a locker, Carl would see if anyone followed.}

^{No one did. As the musician carried his guitar and the briefcase into the Starbucks front entrance, Carl came in from the side entrance, took the briefcase, gave him the other two hundred, and told him, "Nice to meet an honest man."}

^{Chapter 5.}

^{In one of the city's lovely parks, Carl sat, watched a bicyclist go past, nodded to a woman with a stroller, smiled at children on swings, and worked the combination lock on the briefcase. The case was dull brown, attracting no attention. He slid his hand inside and felt past five thousand dollars, a pistol, an extra magazine, fifty rounds of ammunition, a knife, small rolls of duct tape, fake ID, and other necessities. He gripped a cell phone. His previous phone had been destroyed by the river. He pulled the new one out, closed the briefcase, and enjoyed the pleasant morning.}

^{Then he couldn't postpone his business any longer. He pressed numbers on the encryption-equipped phone and waited. After two rings, the connection was completed, although the person on the other end didn't speak, presumably waiting to learn which language to use.}

^{"This is Bowie," Carl said.}

^{"You disappoint us."}

^{Carl felt his chest harden. "Things went wrong. They couldn't be helped."}

^{"You accepted our money but did not produce results."}

^{"I got some results. The mission isn't a total failure."}

^{"You sound like a child making excuses."}

^{Carl's muscles tightened, now because of anger. "It was a unique situation. The next time, the person who caused the problem won't exist."}

^{"Your friend? If he had been available to us, the mission would have succeeded."}

^{Carl bit the inside of his cheek.}

^{"You will return the fee we already paid you," the voice said. "One million dollars. An electronic transfer. By noon tomorrow."}

^{"Of course."}

^{"You will also return the money we paid for expenses and preparations."}

^{"You know it's been spent. Where am I going to find three million dollars?}

^{"Perhaps from your friend," the voice said acidly. "We need to meet. To discuss what has happened."}

^{I'd never survive the meeting , Carl thought. "Well, at the moment, that's a little difficult. The authorities are hunting me. I'm trying to get out of New Orleans."}

^{"I don't mean today. That's impossible. I'm flying to the Philippines."}

^{"And you feel comfortable talking about this on a plane?"}

^{"A private jet. I arrive in an hour. When you reach a secure location, contact me again. I'll tell you where to meet me."}

^{Carl felt a weightless sensation, as if a trap door opened beneath him. As soon as I arrange an electronic transfer of the money, he'll invite me to a meeting and have me killed. Perhaps he'll do it himself.}

^{"On a plane? Are you passing the time, trying to figure out how to open the secret knife I gave you?"}

^{"That's another way you disappoint me. Your ridiculous knife doesn't work. I tried every possible combination."}

^{"Sure, it works. Have you got it with you?"}

^{"In my pocket."}

^{"On the top combination, turn the man in the moon to two o'clock. On the bottom combination, turn the arrow to Roman numeral X."}