Free The Taste of Fear by Jeremy Bates Page A

or Cox in the cab, and reported this fact when their bodies were found, the circumstances surrounding their death would be much more closely scrutinized. That was unacceptable. The reason he was getting paid so handsomely for this job was because Brazza’s death had to look like an accident. More than that, Fitzgerald’s reputation was at stake. There weren’t many assassins of his caliber for hire in the world, and news of a sloppy hit spread quickly.
    He lit a Kent, shoved the gearstick into drive, and started after his quarry.
    They would not get so lucky a second time.

Chapter 8
     
    As the Land Rover wound down through the western crater highlands, leaving Ngorongoro Crater behind, it continued to rain lightly, though the worst of the storm had passed.
    “So you and Ben seemed to have hit it off,” Scarlett said to Sal. They were in the backseat, Silly up in the front with the ranger.
    Sal had changed into a dry set of clothes and was now puffing thoughtfully on one of his cigars, blowing the pungent smoke out the window. “Did he say what lodge he was staying at?”
    “I don’t think so. Why?”
    “If I remember correctly, there are only four of five lodges up there on the rim. I don’t recall any as far west as ours. Why would he be leaving via the western wall?”
    “Who knows? Maybe because he was closest to it when the storm broke?” She paused, wondering how to broach the next subject. Blunt was best, she decided. “I heard you speaking on your phone earlier.”
    “When?”
    “At the picnic stop—you were in the restroom.”
    Sal appeared momentarily annoyed. Then his face smoothed over and he took another puff of the cigar. “It was Danny again.”
    That’s who she’d expected. “You can speak with Danny in front of me, you know.”
    “He called. I was in the restroom. I answered the phone. What’s the big deal?”
    “I didn’t hear your phone ring.”
    “It was on vibrate. What is this? I feel like I’m getting the third degree. I feel like—” He trailed off.
    She knew what he was going to say. “I wasn’t implying—”
    He waved the matter aside. “It was Danny,” he said firmly.
    “I know. I believe you.”
    “Then what’s with the interrogation?”
    “I just don’t think I’m getting the entire story here.”
    “What story? I told you about the fire.”
    “But what else is going on? Have the police found something out? Has Danny? I’m worried about you.”
    “I told you it’s under control.”
    “I want to know, dammit!” she said. “No more secrets between us, Sal. I don’t care how big or small, just no more secrets.”
    He stared at her, hard, like he wanted to make this into a fight. In the end he shook his head and sighed. “I think you have more Italian in you than I do, cara mia. ” He took a final puff on the cigar, then tossed it out the window. “Do you want me to tell you what Danny told me?”
    “Please.”
    “He thinks he knows who set the fire.”
    Scarlett’s heart skipped a beat. “Who?”
    “A man named Don Xi. In fact, you may remember him. You met him once.”
    “Don Xi?” she repeated slowly. The name, pronounced Zee, sounded vaguely familiar. Then it hit her. Last spring she’d been in Macau with Sal while he looked at potential sites for a future casino along the Cotai Strip. They’d had lunch with this man, this Don Xi. He was one of Sal’s partners. “Yes, I do remember him now. But he’s just a frail old man.”
    “He’s also part of the Chinese syndicate that held a de jure monopoly on gambling in Macau for the past forty years. Consequently, he’s made a lot of powerful friends—which include half of Asia’s organized crime ring.”
    “And he’s your partner?”
    “Was.”
    “What happened?”
    “After the Macau government ended the monopoly system there in ’02, a number of casino operating concessions were put up for tender. I didn’t win one. As a last resort, yes, I partnered with Don Xi, because he had a