Glitz. Part 23

Vincent stopped.

He turned the desk lamp on, hunched over to look at a print. Then another one. The two almost identical. The same figure in both pictures in the same pose. It was the background that was familiar. Remembered from another time, a different person in the picture. But a background that would never change. Vincent could see it with his eyes open or closed.

It was light out by the time Teddy got home. He waved to the unmarked light-tan Fairmont pulling away. a.s.sholes. His mom was still up, waiting to tell him about the hippy and the huge colored man who'd been here while he was gone. Sure, Mom. What'd they take, the refrigerator or just the TV? She said they didn't take nothing; this was a very nice colored man, a great big one, his head almost touched the ceiling. Teddy said that's how they grew them these days; the big ones played basketball and the skinny ones became millionaires selling you paper towels in the men's rooms. Teddy's mom kept going on about the colored man, how he was polite and clean. Sure, Mom. Her old arteries controlling her mind. Weird. A lack of blood in her head bringing colored guys into the house to steal things.

"They must a taken some something."

"Well, they didn't. Police don't rob you. Don't you know nothing?"

"You're saying they're cops?" This was a new one. "They show you their I.D.?"

"They said you'd be home soon, the others just wanted to talk to you."

"Get my opinion on world affairs. They look around the house?"

His mom said she kept an eye on the colored man because you never know. But they were both polite. Even the hippy one with the beard, "He asked could he use the bathroom and said please."

Teddy said, "Je-sus Christ," and ran into his bedroom.

His gun was still in the camera case. Whew, that was a relief. He'd better either hide it good or get rid of it. Then thought, why? He'd shot at the cop with it, but so what? He'd only actually killed one person with it and they couldn't do nothing about that here. Except cops were sneaky and he could get two years just for having the thing in his possession. Teddy looked in his drawers; his clothes seemed in order. He went over to the desk. If the one with the beard was the cop Vincent, who was the big jig his mom thought was so polite? Man, they were sneaky.

He had marked the print envelopes and put them in numerical order in the drawer to trap his mom, be able to tell if she looked through his things.

Well, they weren't in order now. He began to feel a little tense looking through the Escambron beach shots. They seemed all here. Then counted the ones of the cop and Iris. He believed there were twenty of them . . . But there weren't. He counted them twice and got nineteen each time. Well, nineteen or twenty, he'd better get rid of them-anything that linked him to Iris-just to be on the safe side. Teddy went through the rest of the envelopes looking at his postcard shots of sunny Puerto Rico . . . There was the liquor store in the Carmen Apartments. That couldn't screw him up, could it? Naw. What else. More postcard stuff ...Wait a minute. He went through every print in one of the envelopes, expecting the shot he was looking for to come up next. Two, there were two he was looking for. He went through all the envelopes, just to make sure. But the two prints were missing. Both of them. Jesus Christ. Unless he had thrown them away himself. Now he couldn't remember; it seemed so long ago he was down there.

But those pictures wouldn't mean anything to the cop. How could they?

At 8 A.M. Vincent called the Bureau of Criminal Affairs in Hato Rey, Puerto Rico, asked for Lorendo Paz and waited, hearing voices in Spanish.

Linda was in bed. DeLeon had left with LaDonna rubbing her eyes, to take her home, get in a few hours sleep and come back. Vincent waited with a silver coffee pot and two photographs on the desk next to him, sunlight in the window, the remains of drinks the morning after on the gla.s.s table. He stubbed out the cigarette he had lit as he placed the call. He'd quit again, soon. He needed to sit in the sun and read. He would like to sit in the sun with Linda and read, but that was a hard one to picture, Linda on Condado Beach doing nothing . . .

Lorendo said, "Vincent!" and began asking questions about Iris. Vincent told him to wait, he wasn't asking the right ones.

"You had an investigation going," Vincent said, "the body you found in the rain forest, El Yunque . . ."

"Yes, the taxi driver, Isidro Manosduros. The man left a family."

"How're you doing?"

"We identified him, that's all. Four days we believe he drove the same man around, an American.

But we don't know his name, who he is. Isidro was an independent, he didn't keep a record."

"You know what he looks like, the American?"

"Only what Isidro's wife told us. A rich one, of course. They're all rich to some people. Not young, but not an old man. Staying in a hotel, but she doesn't remember which one. Isidro told her this guy was a prize, very generous, bought presents for his mother. But he was strange, too. She said she told Isidro to be careful of him."

"She did? Why?"

"Who knows? She's from Loiza. One thing, yes, Isidro told her the American has a tattoo on his arm, up by the shoulder."

"Does it say Mr. Magic?"

There was a silence before Lorendo said with awe, "Oh, Vincent, I don't believe it. How do you know this? Please, tell me."

"Wait. What's Isidro look like? Is he dark?"

"Very dark, black. Thin, medium size, heavy bones. Not very good teeth. A little gray in his hair. Vincent-"

"I've got a picture of him," Vincent said, "taken up in the rain forest, I think right above where you found him. He's standing at the edge of a cliff, where you look out at the view."

"On El Yunque, you're sure."

"Positive."

"You visit there, you know the place."

"No, I didn't make it. I told you, I don't know if you remember, I wanted to see Roosevelt Roads, where my dad was stationed during the war . . ."

"Yes, I remember."

"And I wanted to see El Yunque. My dad had his picture taken there, a long time ago."

"Vincent-"

"Wait. I don't have the picture with me but I can see it, almost every detail. I used to study it when I was little. This was my dad and I'd never really met him. Salty young guy in a sailor suit, up on the mountain. You see the ground, some trees but there's hardly anything behind him but clouds. Mountains way off."

"Yes, rain clouds. It rains every day there."

"The picture I have of a Puerto Rican with very dark skin, smiling but not really smiling, was taken in exactly the same place."

"Send it to me, quick as you can."

"It's Isidro," Vincent said. "There's not a doubt in my mind."

"Okay, now the guy that took the picture-"

"Teddy Magyk. He lives about five miles from here."

"Ahhh, Magic. It's his name."

"You don't remember him."

"No. I should?"

"We had him," Vincent said. "The ex-con I wanted to scare and you said take him out on the Loiza ferry."

"Yes, yes, Teddy Teddy. I remember, sure."

"I might not've mentioned his last name. At the time it didn't mean anything."

"Okay, listen," Lorendo said. "I have to do something about him quickly ...Wait. How did you get the picture of Isidro?"

"I stole it."

"Oh, I believe that, Vincent. Listen, I want to hear it, but don't tell me now. I have to get the machinery moving. First, I have to request Atlantic City to pick him up as a fleeing felon. What do you think? Do it that way, uh? Before he leaves and we can't find him. Then I get the extradition performed and I come and get him."

"That could take you a couple of weeks," Vincent said, "if you're lucky. Get the court down there and the one up here to agree. Meanwhile he's got a lawyer dragging his feet. It'll take you months. Even then you won't be sure of getting him."

"I don't know-but send me the picture, all right?"

"I've got an idea might be better," Vincent said. "Why don't I fly down with the picture?"

"Yes, wonderful."

"And bring Teddy along with it."

24.

TEDDY'S MOM WOKE HIM UP to tell him she was taking Buddy to the pet shop to get his little beak shaved so he wouldn't hurt hisself. She said, "Were you 'sleep?"

"I was trying to. Jeez."

"I thought I smelled smoke a while ago. Were you burning something in the fireplace?"

"Just some old stuff I don't need no more. I cleaned out my drawers."

"Well, I'll be. You're a lazybones, but you've always been neat about your things."

" 'Ey, Mom-"

"Li'l sleepyhead," his Mom said, and left with Buddy in a cage.

No sooner the Chevy backed out of the drive and pulled away-peace at last-the front-door chimes rang. He was positive it was the cops, a couple of day-s.h.i.+ft guys this time; they'd take him over to Northfield and go through the routine again. You were in Spade's casino last night? Yes sir, I was.

What time was that? I was at Bally's, the Claridge and the Sands too. Who keeps track of time when you're gambling and having fun? You win? I did all right. They loved to ha.s.sle you. Put you in a lineup with drunks and cops, lights in your eyes. He'd go with them today and make a statement: I've answered your questions. What you are doing now is called hara.s.sment. Any further questions will have to be directed at my attorney. That sounded good.

The front-door chimes kept ringing.

Have his mom get him a lawyer, not the court. They didn't have anything on him anyway. They couldn't.

The d.a.m.n chimes, that double ding-dong repeated over and over and-s.h.i.+t-over until the irritation of it pulled him out of bed in his black bikini briefs to the front door for a peek through the peephole. Not three feet away from him on the porch was a giant colored guy. He should have stopped to think, kept quiet, but the sight of the guy startled him and Teddy said, "What do you want?"

The giant colored guy said, "You, baby. Open the door."

It wasn't the way a cop addressed you. Teddy stepped over to the window, peeked through the grillwork and saw the black limo parked in the drive . . . Like the limo Iris had got in with those people to go to the apartment. And there had been a big colored guy in that party. Now he was good and confused. If this was the giant colored guy his mom had talked to, where was the bearded guy who had used the bathroom? If the bearded guy was the Miami cop, Vincent, what was he doing with the spade from Spade's? Man, it was confusing.

Teddy ran through the hall to the kitchen and looked out back. n.o.body in the yard. Now the giant colored guy was banging on the door, shaking the house almost, calling "Teddy? Open up, man. I'm a frien'." The dumbest thing he ever did was ask what the guy wanted. He wondered if he should call the real police. That would be something, wouldn't it? But decided, no, play a lone hand. Mr. Magic. Now you see him, now you don't. He got dressed fast and packed a canvas bag, a couple of knit s.h.i.+rts, undies, extra pair of jeans. He slipped on a pair of blue Nikes. The money Marie had given him was in his wallet. s.h.i.+t, the camera case-he got it, hung it over his shoulder. What else?

He got one of his mom's VISA cards out of her dresser, then slipped quietly out the side door into the empty garage. Buddy would have to have his appointment today. If his mom was here she'd do something. He'd go through backyards to East Drive and up to Ventnor. Teddy opened the door to the yard and stuck his head out to look one way, across the back of the house, then the other . . .

The cop, Vincent, said, "Hi, Teddy, you all packed?" Taking the bag and the camera case. "Good."

Teddy had to go back inside and open the front door. He watched the cop, Vincent, take the Colt out of the camera case and hand it to the giant colored guy. He was even bigger close. The cop headed through the living room then. Teddy knew where he was going and couldn't help but call after him " 'Ey, good luck."

Teddy began to hum George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone"; see if the giant colored guy knew it and would say anything. But the giant colored guy was studying the Colt automatic, looking it over good. Teddy said, "Careful with that if you don't know nothing about firearms."

The giant colored guy looked up, aimed the gun right at him and said, "You remind me. I remember seeing a cartoon, this poor little skinny b.u.m is standing behind this big heavy-set rich cat holding a gun in his back? The little b.u.m is saying to him, 'Stick 'em up, this is a water pistol, I mean a holdup.' Little b.u.m, you know he ain't ever gonna make it. You remind me of him."

Teddy said, "Come on, don't fool around, 'ey?"

The cop, Vincent, came back in empty-handed, of course. Teddy said, "Didn't find what you were looking for? That's too bad."

"You got rid of everything," Vincent said.

"You mean the pictures? Oh, they got burnt up in a fire. Yeah, all my PR memories. Like I wasn't even there."

"I'm glad I saved a couple," Vincent said, taking two prints out of his coat pocket to hold them up. "Didn't you miss them? Or'd you just burn everything without looking?"

Teddy said, " 'Ey, wait a minute . . ."

The cop was holding up the two shots of Isidro, the cab driver, and it didn't make any sense. What did the cab driver have to do with Iris, here? Was the cop trying to confuse him or what? Then the cop was saying he hoped he'd packed his resort clothes and Teddy said again, " 'Ey, wait a minute . . ."

Rosemary comes in his office with some letters for him to sign. She stops dead, can't believe her eyes. "Mr. Garbo, what are you doing up there?" And he says to her, "I'm tap-dancing on the f.u.c.king desk. What's it look like I'm doing?"

That was how the day began in his mind, Jackie getting out of bed. What should be one of the happiest days of his life: Frank Cingoro dead, Ricky Catalina in custody, the undesirables off his back. But his vibes were bothering him. Something was going on. He'd stayed at the hotel last night because he couldn't find the Moose; he'd called LaDonna at home three times this morning and got no answer. Now the narky-looking cop from Miami was sitting in his office and he was trying very hard to be cordial, in light of the guy's twelve grand deposited with the cas.h.i.+er.

"The Moose says I made a mistake. I should offer you an apology."

"No need to," Vincent said. "But there is something you could do for me."

Jackie's mind telling him, Get him a broad, get him tickets to the show, autographs, take him backstage . . . and said, "You've noticed the personally inscribed photographs I have here on the wall? Every one of 'em major showroom attractions." Jackie moved toward the display, pointing. "Like my very dear friend Lee, wearing the jacket there cost him a hundred and fifty grand. Or the inimitable Engelbert, right here. You name me somebody of their statue, as my pal Norm Crosby would say, and if the star you name isn't up on that wall- mister, I'll give you a brand-new hundred-dollar bill."

Vincent took a moment. He said, "Joe c.o.c.ker."

Jackie said, "Joe c.o.c.ker? c.o.c.ker? You putting me on?" He looked over to see DeLeon standing in the doorway. "You decide to make an appearance?" Jackie shook his head. Look at him, going for the sofa. "Where'n the h.e.l.l you been?" You putting me on?" He looked over to see DeLeon standing in the doorway. "You decide to make an appearance?" Jackie shook his head. Look at him, going for the sofa. "Where'n the h.e.l.l you been?"

"Doing ch.o.r.es, Mr. Garbo, sir."

"We're gonna have a talk, my friend, soon as I'm through here." He turned to Vincent, sitting in a chair by the desk. "What's the guy's name again?"