Chapter 11
This was the most dangerous moment of the entire caper, the moment of payoff and the time when Harold was most exposed. He was following the plan that he had developed at the outset, the plan that was ridiculously simple and provided him every opportunity to guard against surveillance or double cross.
He had followed the man for three blocks along the popular and busy shopping area of Florida Street in Buenos Aires. Florida Street had been closed to all automobile traffic many years before and there was hardly a moment of a day when the busy thoroughfare wasn't crowded with a flowing river of humanity.
The ransom note had specified that the ransom was to be carried in a black attaché case with a red sticker on the side. The man was to walk Florida Street, stopping frequently and setting the case down while he studied shop windows or bought items at the kiosks in the center of the thoroughfare.
Harold had picked up the man at the designated corner and followed him, carefully analyzing every person moving in the same direction. Following instructions, the man had stopped seven times, each time casually placing the black attaché case on the pavement while he pretended to study merchandise on display in the smart shop windows.
Now convinced that the man was alone, Harold moved closer and was ready to make his move. This is it, Harold said to himself when the man slowly approached a kiosk in the center of the street. His stomach muscles contracted into tight knots when he saw the man place the attaché case on the pavement at his feet while he began counting out change for the package of cigarettes that the vendor was handing him.
Harold moved quickly, passing the man's back and stooping to pick up the attaché case without breaking his stride. He slipped through the stream of people flowing down the street and disappeared into the entrance to an arcade. As he moved into the arcade, he glanced back over his shoulder to see the man automatically reach down for the attaché case. Finding it missing, the man merely shrugged his shoulders and began walking toward the corner.
Moving at an average, unhurried pace, Harold made his way through the maze of corridors in the arcade and exited on La Valle Street where Hank was waiting with the car.
"Smooth?" Hank asked, slipping the car into gear and sliding away from the curb.
"Couldn't have been better!" Harold sighed with relief as his tension gradually began to fade. "But they couldn't afford a double cross at this point. Head for the airport, Hank, we're on a tight schedule from this point on! I hope Debby can handle her part."
Debby Harmon's nerves were on raw edge as she sat on the small couch in the American Embassy's official's office. The minute that she had mentioned her name to the Marine guard in the lobby, she had been whisked into the elevator and taken to the top floor of the building. The officials had been kind and courteous, but their probing questions were testing her patience and drawing her nerves taut. Harold had warned her that this would be the tough part and she had steeled herself for the ordeal.
"It was a harrowing experience. You'll have to make allowances. I'm terribly upset right now."
The phone on the official's desk rang and Debby stopped speaking while he picked up the receiver.
"It's your brother, Miss Harmon," the official said, holding the phone out to her. "Here, sit behind the desk. I'll get some coffee so you can speak to your brother alone."
Debby took the phone and took a deep breath in an attempt to still her churning stomach. She sat down in the official's chair as he slipped discretely out of the room.
"Hello, Matt?" she began, hoping she would be able to get through this conversation with a person that she despised. "Yes, yes, Matt, I'm all right... About a half hour ago... No, they didn't torture me, but it was a harrowing experience. I'll tell you about it when I see you. Right now I'm so nervous I can hardly think straight. But I wanted you to know I was all right... Yes, they told me. Did he suffer very much at the end? I'm glad to hear that. When was the funeral...? You can tell me all about it when I get home... In about an hour and a half. They've made reservations for me on a flight to Caracas... No, Matt, I couldn't stand being confined on an airplane for fifteen hours. Not after what I've been through! I'll be in Caracas tonight, then fly to Mexico City from there tomorrow. What day is it today...? Then I'll arrive in San Francisco on Monday, three days from today... Matt, believe me it's the only way I could handle it at the moment. I need rest... No, Matt, someone to travel with me is the last thing I want! I need to be alone to pull myself together at this point... No, honestly, Matt, I'm in no danger now... I appreciate that, Matt. I know how concerned you must have been. We'll talk it all over when I get back. I'll call you from Mexico City to tell you what flight I'll be on... Fine. And, Matt, I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you've done. Maybe someday I can repay you... Okay, I'll see you Monday. Goodbye."
Debby breathed a deep sight of relief when she heard the line click dead. Matt's pretended concern made her anger boil and she had to be careful that she didn't show her emotions to the people in the embassy. She was exhausted from the emotional strain, but the young girl was pleased that she had put one more ordeal behind her.
"Pardon me, Miss Harmon," the official's secretary said from the door, "but do you have any luggage?"
"I'm afraid not," she said, managing a weak smile. "I hadn't even thought about that. All they left me with was my purse."
"If you'd like to pick up a few things for your trip, I'll be glad to take you to a nice department store. Its just a block and a half from the embassy. We'll have a car and driver ready to take you to the airport at one o'clock, so we have forty-five minutes to shop if you'd like."
"Thank you," Debby responded with a warm smile. "That would be nice. I'll need a change of clothes and a toothbrush at least."
Debby followed the attractive secretary to the elevator, her mind miles away on what Harold was doing at that moment.
Harold Sorenson was sitting in the bar at the International Airport listening to the flight announcement over the public-address system. He turned to his companion, holding his glass in a toast.
"Well, Hank, that's it, the first call for your flight to Madrid. I'll stay here in the bar. My flight will be called in about five minutes. Remember what I told Danny, wash that money thoroughly before you return to the States. Don't do it in Spain. That's a restricted-currency situation. Buy French francs in Paris, then change them to dollars in Switzerland. No way to trace them like that."
"Don't worry," Hank said, standing and offering his hand to Harold, "I'll cover my tracks. It may seem silly, but I still feel guilty taking all this bread. I agreed to work for ten long ones and you hang fifty on me."
"I'll tell you what I told Danny," Harold smiled. 'This caper is going to pay big dividends, so I want you to get your share. You earned it, Hank, and loyalty means a lot to me."
"Well, you've got my loyalty for life, Harold. You know where to reach me if you need me. I'll be back in San Francisco in a month. This extra bread is going to treat me to a week or two on some nice beach. Hope you have a good flight."
"Same, buddy. See you later."
Harold watched Hank leave the bar and head for the loading area. Danny had left half an hour earlier on a flight to Rio de Janeiro, and Hank's flight to Mexico City was due to take off in a few minutes. By giving each of them fifty thousand dollars, Harold had guaranteed their loyalty. It had also made it possible for them to go somewhere and delay their returns to the states, which covered yet another important area for Harold.
He heard his flight called and signaled for the bar bill. As he headed for the loading area, Harold walked slowly. In a way, he hated to leave Argentina. He was fond of the country and, he liked the people. Harold Sorenson was also leaving an old life behind and embarking on an entirely new one. He studied the people lining up in front of the immigration inspectors and relaxed when he saw no signs of potential trouble.
The attractive, leggy, tight-assed stewardess smiled at Harold with recognition when he boarded the 727 jet. It was the same girl who had been on the plane on which he had come down. She had long, wavy, jet-black hair and a good figure, and on the flight down she had flirted with him openly. Harold knew that he could grab a piece of her tight little ass if he wanted it, but at this particular point in time he wasn't interested.
He climbed into his seat, placed the soft-leather tote bag filled with one-hundred-dollar bills between his feet, and put his seat back to sleep. The next day promised to be a very busy day in Mexico City and Harold intended to sleep all the way so that he would arrive refreshed and relaxed.
Matthew Harmon sat confidently behind his Spanish oak desk in his twenty-second floor office in the Harmon Building. The window behind his desk offered a panoramic view of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. The past ten days had been a difficult, nerve wracking period for Matthew. The most difficult part of all was the silence, the lack of reports from the man that he had hired. That and the pressure that had been building on all sides regarding his father's estate and the proposed merger with Jensen Mills.
But it was all behind him now. Harold Sorenson had called a few minutes before and was on his way up to Matthew's office. Deborah was scheduled to arrive that night. Everything was finally taking shape!
Matthew glanced down at the letter on the top of his desk. It was a cordial communication to Hal Jensen with a brief explanation of why Matthew now felt that the proposed merger wouldn't be to the advantage of the new owner of Harmon Industries. The letter awaited his signature and he picked up his pen and signed it with a flourish. A bright smile crossed Matthew Harmon's face as he placed the signed letter in his out box.
"Mr. Harmon?" his secretary's voice said over the intercom.
"Yes?"
"The projector and screen you ordered have arrived."
"Fine. Have them bring it in my office and set it up."
Matthew watched as two men brought the equipment into his office and began setting the 16mm projector up. He had them place the screen in the corner of the room where the least amount of light would hit it. Then he thanked the men and ushered them out of his plush quarters.
By the end of the week, he said to himself as he once again sat in his leather chair behind his desk, I'll be one of the richest and most powerful men in the world. The thought made him nervous and he quickly took one of the tranquilizers that he kept on his desk.
"Mr. Harmon," his secretary's voice came over the intercom, "a Mr. Sorenson is here to see you."
"Send him in," Matthew replied, standing to greet his visitor. "Well, well, Harold, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see you again!" he said, offering his hand to Harold as he came into the office.
"Nice layout you have here, Mr. Harmon," Harold remarked. "Sorry I was delayed, but we had to wash that money and it took a couple of days."
"Wash the money?" Matthew asked, sitting down.
"Exchange it in a foreign country for other money," Harold explained, 'just in case the serial numbers were on record anywhere."
"Oh, I see. But that really wasn't necessary."
"It pays to cover all bets," Harold returned with a smile.
"Of course. You have the film with you?"
"I think you'll be amazed by what we have here for you," Harold replied, holding up a can of film. "I see you have a projector. Want me to run this through for you?"
"By all means," Matthew beamed. "A little preview, so to speak."
Harold took the round can of film to the projector and began loading the machine.
"I have to apologize for the quality," Harold said. "We weren't working under studio conditions. But it's the content that's important, right?"
"Absolutely!"
"Can you close those drapes?" Harold asked as he closed the projector.
"Certainly," Matthew responded, his confidence growing by the minute. "They're electrically operated." He pushed a button on his desk and a motor hummed as the drapes glided closed.
Harold flipped the toggle switch on the projector and a motor whirred as light flashed on the screen. He turned to watch Matthew Harmon who was now leaning forward on his desk with his elbows propping up his rather-heavy jowled face.
Suddenly a blurred picture appeared on the screen and Harold quickly adjusted the focus on the projector until the scene was bright and clear. There were a group of well-dressed people gathered on a beautiful lawn in front of a stately mansion. A couple appeared on the right of the screen and walked toward a man dressed in black at the center of the group. The couple had their backs to the camera. They stood before the man in black who had his head bowed and seemed to be reading something from a book.
"What is this?" Matthew asked.
"I think you'll understand in a minute," Harold laughed. "In Hollywood, they call it an 'establishing shot,' I believe."
"Oh, I see," Matthew said. "You've made a production out of this. Not necessary. No, not necessary at all. But it certainly won't hurt anything."
Matthew's eyes were glued to the screen and he didn't see the door to his office open to admit a girl who quickly closed the door and stood out of sight against the wall.
On the screen, the man turned and kissed the girl while the people gathered around them applauded. The camera moved in for a close-up and Matthew Harmon recognized that the couple was Harold Sorenson and his half-sister, Deborah Harmon. Their faces beamed with happiness as they shook hands with the people around them.
"I don't understand," Matthew said. "Can't we dispense with this and get to the sex?"
"Don't be so anxious, Matt dear. All in good time!"
"Debby!" Matt exclaimed, recognizing her voice at once and turning to see her leaning against the wall in a relaxed position. "I thought you were to arrive this evening!"
"I couldn't miss this show," she laughed, "even though my husband didn't want me here."
"Your husband!"
Harold flipped the switch to stop the projector and Debby turned on the ceiling light in the office.
"That's right," Harold smiled. "What you have just seen was your sister's wedding. We were married yesterday in Mexico City. Say hello to Mrs. Deborah Sorenson."
"What kind of game is this!" Matthew snapped.
"A legitimate game, brother dear," Debby commented acidly, walking over and sitting on the leather couch. "A much nicer game than you tried to play, I might add. But you did teach us some things."
"A Mexican marriage will never hold up!" Matthew snapped. "I'll have it dissolved before the day is out!"
"I doubt you could, even if you tried," Deborah replied, relishing these moments. "Remember when the ambassador to Mexico came to visit us this year? Well, he was delighted to be present at our wedding when I invited him. And he assured me that our marriage is perfectly legal. But I'm positive you won't want to break up our happy home, Matt."
"And the other films?" Matt asked in a weakened voice as he turned to Harold.
"Oh, yes! I almost forgot," Harold said. "I spliced it to this reel, so you'll have to sit through a few minutes of our wedding reception at the American Embassy in Mexico City. Maybe you'll recognize some of the prominent people present."
Harold flipped on the projector and rose to turn off the ceiling lights. There was complete silence in the office while the scenes of an impromptu wedding reception at the embassy crossed the screen. Matthew's heart sunk as he recognized a number of prominent industrialists and one movie star at the reception. His mind was working a mile a minute as he tried to consider this new situation.
Suddenly the scene changed. Matthew's stomach turned over as he immediately recognized Mona's bedroom.
"This reel is rated X, Matthew," Deborah laughed. "So if you object to erotic realism, perhaps you would like to leave."
The scene was slightly blurred, but clear enough to recognize Matthew Harmon beyond any reasonable doubt. Matthew was naked on the bed when Mona suddenly appeared on the screen. Also naked, Mona approached Matthew's body and knelt between his legs to take his semi-erect penis in her mouth.
"Good Christ!" Matthew exclaimed.
"Sorry some of it isn't too clear," Harold said: "It was shot from the building across the street with a telephoto lens."
"She looks like a good little cocksucker, Matthew," Debby said sweetly. "I like the part where you shove it up her tight little asshole the best. There, see! Was her asshole good and tight, Matthew? It sure looks like it the way you're working to get it up her rectum! Mona said it hurt like hell, but of course, she just put up with your unnatural desires because you promised her so much."
In a fit of anger, Matthew Harmon jumped up and ran over to yank the cord connecting the projector to the current.
"Now get out of here, both of you!" he screamed. "Get out of my office!"
"Sit down, Matthew," Debby said with a steel edge in her voice. "Turn on the lights, Harold darling. It's time we put all of this together for my dear half-brother." She pushed Matthew into his chair and hit the button to open the drapes. Turning her back on Matthew, Debby raised her skirt to expose her bare buttocks in his face. "You should have used this, Matt. I love it up my ass. Harold takes good care of me that way. You certainly couldn't! That tiny cock of yours would be more appropriate on a young boy than on an adult man!"
Debby lowered her skirt quickly as the drapes opened.
"You degenerate, depraved bitch!" Matthew growled. "I'll ruin you!"
"No you won't, Matt!" Debby responded as she sat down on the edge of his desk. "You already tried, and you failed! Do you like this office, Harold darling?"
"First rate" Harold replied, enjoying watching Debby have her moment of vengeance.
"We'll have it fumigated to get rid of the odor," she remarked sarcastically, staring straight into her half-brother's eyes. "You see, Matt, you're through—out on your soft ass. According to the terms of Dad's will, I inherit everything. So you're fired, brother dear, as of this minute! John Martin this minute is notifying the officers and directors."
"You can't get away with this!" Matthew snapped.
"I not only can, but I also have," Debby purred like a cat with a dead mouse between its paws. "The staff at the house are already packing your things. They'll be ready when you send for them. I don't want you in my house. Is it coming together now, brother dear? Well, wait, there's more. Your conniving little Mona has changed the lock on the apartment, so don't bother going there. Mona is starting a new career as assistant
director of public relations for Harmon Industries She was so cooperative with a friend of Harold's—Benny, wasn't it, darling?—that we felt we had to show our appreciation. She was much too smart for you, anyway, Matthew."
"The lousy little bitch!" Matthew groaned, seeing his entire world collapse around him.
"Don't speak of Mona that way, Matthew," Debby said with a smile. "Why, she had made it possible for me to take away your twenty-five-thousand-dollar-a-year trust. I feel sure that those pictures of you performing sodomy on an unmarried girl should satisfy our father's moral clause, don't you?"
Matthew didn't reply. He was stunned.
"You can leave now, Matthew," Debby said. "Just leave the things in your desk. We'll have them sent to you. Oh, I almost forgot! I've asked John Martin to arrange for a complete audit of the company books. If we find any irregularity, we'll do our very best to send you to prison."
"You're a blood-thirsty bitch, Deborah!" Matthew said dejectedly as he stood and took a last look at his cherished office.
"You gambled and you lost, Matt," Debby said sweetly. "If you're wondering what to do now, I'd recommend a trip to Argentina. It did wonders for me!"