Chapter Twenty One
Spinnaker’s Gold
Ursula Haim lived alone on the tenth floor of a Miami Beach high rise. All those apartments had twenty foot glass walls facing the ocean and patios with more square footage than most suburban houses. Six million a pop. And you don’t get past the lobby security without permission.
A month after Shultz’s death, Willis got out of a taxi at the front door of Uschi’s condo building and dismissed the driver. A serious looking uniformed A-guard, A as in Armed, asked his name, and then checked I.D.s. Plural. He made a call, said a few words. Nodded.
“Go right up, Mr. Willis. Apartment Ten-Oh-One. North east corner.”
The prime location.
Of course it was.
Willis waited while the guard released the elevator from his console, and then rode up. The hallway ran
