1. out the wndow
it's getting late - after midnight. maybe even close on two o'clock. outside the hotel window, the moon is shining on the strangely calm caribbean.
just a few hours ago, you thought you had it made, didn't you, molly? you - and in your heart you knew it was you, not that jackass herb crawley that you had to work with - had just pulled off the blue salamander caper, the biggest jewel heist in ten years in the western hemisphere.
but hank crawley couldn't let well enough alone, could he? no. he had big plans to double or triple the take - in a poker game!
the poker game going on right now in the room behind you - the living room of the suite in the hotel continental that hank took as "harold carpenter", a cement tycoon from indianapolis. and you have to admit, hank didn't do a half bad job ingratiating himself with the local moguls and mahatmas.
but when you pointed out, as reasonably as you could, that he couldn't trust these jokers and that they would probably cheat him and not even try to hide it, what did he answer?
"they wouldn't have the nerve to cheat a white man."
go ahead, molly. take another look through the bedroom door - if you dare! ha, ha! hank's stack of chips is down to almost nothing now. he's sweating like a block of ice on the hottest beach in brazil and his fingers are clutching the empty glass beside him like it was the side of a lifeboat in a typhoon. ha, ha! pretty soon, if he wants more chips, he is going to have to show his new pals some collateral - and what could that be, i wonder? what but the blue salamander and the other priceless jewels you worked so hard to get?
it's not fair, is it? yes, you're always known that life isn't fair, but isn't this stretching it a bit?
but there's the swag itself, cleverly "hidden in plain sight" in a battered briefcase on the bedroom bureau.
and sprawled on the bed beside it, sleeping peacefully - insofar as such a brute does anything "peacefully" - lies grogro, hank's factotum, almost as disgusting a slob as hank himself. hank "trusts" you enough to leave you in the room with the jewels because grogro is there - but even more because of the twenty-two story drop to the water below - water that is calm now but could kick up choppy or stormy in an instant.
twenty-two stories - is that really so many to climb down? come on, molly, haven't you been in tighter spots before? how did you get to be who you are - molly muldoon, international jewel thief, wanted by the police of six continents? currently number twenty-three (and the fourth highest woman) on interpol's most wanted list. you've come a long way, haven't you, molly, from the little shack beside the delaware river where your widowed mother sold crab cakes and potato pancakes to the dockworkers to support her nine children?
twenty-two stories. what's the problem? and the water is calm. this is your chance! you can easily swim to shore. what, are you afraid of getting your hair wet?
so you do it. stepping past grogro is no problem. now the briefcase is in your hand. quick as a cat you are halfway out the window. my, the ledge is narrow, isn't it? and now that you are outside, that water looks a lot farther down, doesn't it?
"boss! quick, quick!" grogro's curiously high-pitched voice sounds like the crack of doom in your ears. you look down - there's nothing else for it now. you take one last look into the bedroom - and hank is coming through the door and grabbing his .357 from its hiding place beside the bed. the faces of a couple of the gamblers look on curiously from the bedroom door.
now! now!
and then you hear a voice from above you.
"need a hand?"
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