Cat Chaser Part 22

Moran said, "Wait a minute-put the G.o.dd.a.m.n gla.s.s down." He gave himself a moment, Nolen telling him it was okay, take it easy, but he could feel his heart beating against his chest and he didn't know how to slow it down or if he wanted to.

"He's kicking her out of the house," Nolen said. "You got no problem."

"When?"

"Now, today. He told her to pack and get out."

"How does Scully know? De Boya tell him?"

"Scully gets pieces and puts 'em together. The Mendozas hear something from one of the maids- they're sitting around the kitchen-about the wife getting beat up and they call Scully-"

Moran stopped him. "Wait now. Andres beat her up?"

There was a look coming into his eyes Nolen had never seen before and hoped it wasn't for him.

"Take it easy, okay? She's fine."

"He hit her?"

"They had a heavy argument with some pus.h.i.+ng and shoving, that's all. The Mendozas tell Scully and he goes over to check, feel his way around; he doesn't want any surprises when the time comes. He get there-no Mendozas. De Boya'd sent them here. They're suppose to bring your shlong back in a Baggie so he can give it to his wife. Weird, but it's like what Rafi was telling us, they do it with shears, man. Jesus, I get goose b.u.mps thinking about it.

283.

The Mendozas, they don't give a s.h.i.+t they're not actually working for de Boya, it sounds like fun. Scully says it was a misunderstanding and he says he hopes you're okay. I told him the two guys're in the Pompano city jail and Scully says that's all right, he was through with them anyway." Nolen raised his gla.s.s. "So here we are." He drank down his sour. "And I might add, today's the big day."

Moran walked away, Nolen's voice following him now into the bedroom. "You gonna ask me what's happening?" From the dresser Moran got his wallet and car keys, returned to the front room and kept walking toward the door.

"Where you going?"

Moran said, "Where do you think."

"Wait now, you don't want to go over there. Let her come here. Call her up."

"I'm through calling."

"He sees you he'll get a gun. Honest to G.o.d, I mean it. He'll kill you."

Moran was still doing rather than thinking, more pumped up now than he was earlier; but Nolen's words and grown-up wisdom stopped him with his hand on the door. He looked back at Nolen.

"What happens today?"

"We hit de Boya. That's what happens."

Moran came back to the counter. Nolen seemed to straighten on the stool.

"Your idea-flush him, make him run."

"How're you gonna do that?"

"Bomb scare."

"A real one?"

Nolen shook his head. He had Moran's interest now and could take his time. "One was enough. He saw his dock blown to h.e.l.l, the man's a believer. Jiggs'll ask him about the telephone line being cut and who came to fix it. Is he sure they were from Southern Bell? Give him doubts. So when he gets a call his house's been wired to go up he grabs his money and runs."

"How do you know he will?"

"Because he's been looking over his shoulder for twenty years half-expecting something like this. I mean what's getaway money for otherwise? The man doesn't have to get hit over the head. He's ready to jump."

"Maybe," Moran said, "but he could be way ahead of you, have an idea what you're doing."

Nolen was shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"What convinces him it's real is who the call comes from." Nolen winked, feeling frisky. "The Coral Gables Police." He grinned at Moran. "Like it? I'd think you'd wish us luck anyway, clobbering the son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"That a line from a movie?"

"This is real-life drama now, George."

285.

"You missed the big scene last night."

"Well, that was unfortunate, but guys like Rafi, that can happen. He overreached and didn't look where he was going."

"You used him."

"I had nothing to do with that."

"Are you drunk?"

"This's what I've had, right here. One beer when I got up."

"You were drunk I could understand you," Moran said. "Rafi was used and you're next, you don't even know it."

"Unh-unh."

"What's your part in it?"

"I make the anonymous call to the cops. Ready to go off around seven this evening. We want to wait'll the rush hour's over on the freeway."

"Then what?"

"I wait for Jiggs to call me. Bar out by Ninety-five."

"Go on."

"I meet him, wherever he's got de Boya."

"You mean wherever he's killed de Boya. Nolen, you dumb s.h.i.+t, he's not gonna let him live. You either. He'll take the both of you, fifty miles over to the Everglades, you're never seen again. Just tell me, is that a possibility?"

Nolen pretended to think about it, nodded once and took a drink.

"Well?"

"There's a certain risk," Nolen said, "I know that. But there's no payoff in this kind of action without risk, is there? See, I'm aware of that. You think I'm dumb. Jiggs, he uses me, yeah, for what I can do. But you're forgetting one thing." Nolen reached around behind him, dug under his s.h.i.+rttail and from the waist of his trousers brought out a Colt .45 automatic, winked at Moran and laid it on the counter.

"I was Airborne."

Moran saw Nolen's gleam, wet and bloodshot but still a gleam. He said quietly, "Nolen, that was sixteen years ago."

Nolen said, "I've jumped out of airplanes, George, and I've shot at the enemy. I've been to war. Tell me this is different."

"I'm going," Moran said. "I've got to get out of here."

He was at the door, pus.h.i.+ng it open when Nolen said, "George, tell me something else and be honest."

Moran looked around. "What?"

"Tell me you don't want to see the man dead." When Moran didn't speak Nolen said, "See? It's why I can tell you about it and expect best wishes. I know where your heart is, buddy. I'll tell you something else too and put money on it. Here..." He dug into his s.h.i.+rt pocket and laid a folded bill on the counter. "Here's ten bucks says if you go to that 287.

man's house you're gonna get shot in the head way before I ever do ...Come on, put up."

For another few moments Moran stared at Nolen hunched over the counter, the morning drinker with his bloodshot gleam and his slick-combed hair. He said, "Nolen, you don't have one chance of making it."

18.

THREE LOUIS VUITTON full-size suitcases-brown fabric bags that bore the LV crests like a wallpaper design-stood in the upstairs hall, at the head of the stairway.

As Mary came out of her bedroom Altagracia was mounting the suspended stairway, ascending out of the forest of plants and small trees that filled the front hall, the maid frowning now as she saw the luggage.

"Senora, you going on a trip?"

"I hope so," Mary said.

"I take these down."

"No." She snapped the word and had to pause to regain her composure. "It's all right, I have to call a cab first, a taxi." She didn't want the luggage standing in the downstairs foyer, waiting. "But if you'll do me a favor-watch in front. The moment the taxi comes would you let me know?" She snapped the word and had to pause to regain her composure. "It's all right, I have to call a cab first, a taxi." She didn't want the luggage standing in the downstairs foyer, waiting. "But if you'll do me a favor-watch in front. The moment the taxi comes would you let me know?"

The maid nodded solemnly, "Yes, Senora," and said then, hesitant, "That man call and I lie to him again that you not here."

"It's all right," Mary said, "I understand."

"I didn't want to, you been very kind to me. You go to trouble to make my work easy and then I lie against you." Altagracia looked at her with sorrowful eyes.

"I understand," Mary said, both touched and surprised. It was the first time Altagracia had confided, revealed a personal feeling.

"Does your face hurt?"

"No, it's fine." Surprised even more.

"Your mouth look a little swollen is all. I'm very sorry it happen. If you go I hope you come back."

My G.o.d, she sympathized. Mary could see genuine concern in the woman's dark eyes. She said, "I appreciate your saying that. Thank you."

"If I can do something for you..."

Mary was already thinking. "Do you know where Mr. de Boya is?"

"Yes, Senora, in his study. A man came to see him. The one, the fat one, his s.h.i.+rt comes out."

"Mr. Scully."

"Yes, I think is his name. He just come."

Mary hesitated a moment. "Maybe it would be all right if you took the bags down now. But not to the front hall, all right? I think-why don't you take them the back way to the garage? Then when the taxi comes I'll have the driver pick them up 291.

there, it'll be easier for him." Offhand about it.

"All right?"

"Whatever pleases you, Senora."

For several moments Mary watched Altagracia, a suitcase in each hand, descend the stairway that seemed to hang in s.p.a.ce above treetops-moving so slowly-Mary wanting to hurry her, half-expecting Andres to appear in the hall below. She went into her bedroom, dialed Moran's number and asked for him.

A voice she has never heard before said, "He's gone..."

"Do you know where I can reach him?"

". . . probably never to return."

"Please," Mary said, "it's important."

The voice changed, brightening. "Oh, is this Mary? ...Mary, Nolen Tyner. How you doing? We never met, have we?"

"Nolen, can you tell me where he is?"

"Yeah, he's on his way to your place."

"He can't come here here."