“Someplace tropical and exotic,” said Nathan. “I like my
women scantily clad; it saves so much time.”
“Be serious now,” whined Julian. “Make a proper
suggestion.”
“What about America?” asked Elliot. “We’ve never been
there.”
“There’s plenty of warm places in America,” proposed
Nathan. “California, Florida, the Gulf Coast.”
“How about Chicago?” inquired Julian. “What with all the
gangsters tearing up the city, a few extra bodies here and
there would never even be noticed.”
Like every other activity the three undertook, it would be
an organized affair. Julian vowed to stop at a travel agent
the next evening and secure brochures to assist with their
decision upon a destination. Elliot promised that he would
make some calls to see about securing passage, and
Nathan, as usual, would see to transferring a sufficient
amount of their wealth to assure that they would continue
to live in the style to which they had become accustomed.
The plan firmly set in motion, they dressed and went out
for the evening’s entertainment.
It was only a matter of four weeks before everything had
been finalized. The villa had been sold at a tidy profit and
the remnants of past feasting had been combed from the
garden to prevent any accidental discoveries. They had
secured passage on the White Star Line’s luxury ocean
liner Olympic. As glorious as her sister ship Titanic had
been, Olympic had survived her maiden voyage and many
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