That night Arflin could not go to sleep. He tossed and turned through out the night. Just when he was about to dose off his thoughts would suddenly turn to Lacey. The emotional pain he was feeling the most was the fact he would never see Lacey again. It was a welcomed sight as Arflin saw the dawn appearing through the bedroom window. He got up and started packing for his trip to South America.
Arflin knew this would be his last chance and he wanted to make sure he had everything he would need to take with him.
There were two suitcases in the closet.
"These will do just fine," Arflin, whispered as he took the suitcases and placed them on the bed.
He could tell one of the suitcases still had what he suspected to be clothing inside it.
"I'll just see how Jock Farmington packs his luggage for a trip," Arflin said as he unlocked the suitcase and opened it.
Arflin could not believe his eyes as he stood staring in awe at all the money stacked neatly inside the suitcase. He carefully counted it. There was One hundred thousand dollars in South American currency. Maybe Jock Farmington was involved in drugs a lot deeper than just pushing marijuana on the streets. Anyway this solved any financial worries Arflin might have once he got to Bogota, Columbia. He now had enough money to secure a new identity, buy another pistol, rent an apartment and buy an automobile.
"This has to be drug money. I wonder how Jock Farmington smuggled dope into Australia? He probably had connections on freighters bound for Australia from South America. My guess is he had another smaller but faster boat meet the freighters off the coast at night and smuggle it into the country that way," Arflin said as he carefully closed the suitcase and continued packing.
After Arflin finished packing he took a shower and then stopped at a small café. He ordered a bacon and egg sandwich and a cup of coffee. He thought very carefully about what he must do before he left. He needed to cover all of his tracks so the authorities would not have an easy time keeping up with his where a bouts. The first order of business was to dispose of the pistol. He knew he could never get it past customs undetected. He thought his best way of getting rid of it would be to toss it into Quay Harbor. Still he would have to be very careful and make sure no one saw him. He could do that on his way to the airport. H e felt the quicker he booked his flight out of the country the safer he would be. As Arflin sat in the small café he thought about what he would do after he bought his ticket. Next he would find a used car dealer and sell the car, after all he or Jock Farmington would never have any need for it again.