“A man handles himself pretty well, and then he hides a gun in a john tank, for God’s sake.”
“Colonel, you skip around so much, you confuse me.”
“This was the last place the Columbine IV was definitely seen.”
“Was it?”
“How many women do you need for one little vacation, McGee?”
“Now look, Colonel.”
“You pretend to be mad, then I’ll pretend to be mad, and then we’ll quiet down and play some more riddles, eh?”
He looked perfectly happy. I said, “Can I play a game?”
“Go ahead. But watch yourself. You’re semi-pro. This is a pro league. Even if you’re a pro in your own country, you’re semi-pro here. We play hard ball.”
“Let’s just imagine that a rich man hides himself away here because it’s a place where he’s hard to get at, and he expects sharpshooters. He would expect some because they plain hate him, and some because they think he might be in a situation where they can pick some of the loot off him. I guess they’ve picked him pretty clean. There’s one thing left, maybe, like a lock box in a Mexico City bank with better than six hundred thousand U.S. dollars in it.”
The smile remained the same size, but suddenly looked hemstitched. He got up and patted my shoulder and said, “Wait right here, please.”
I had a twenty minute wait. He came back. He signaled for a drink, and said, “I suddenly thought of a phone call which could prevent a little error in bookkeeping. I am enjoying your game.”
“Thanks. We’ll imagine a man comes down here after there’s some trouble and tries to figure out who’s been trying to do what to whom. The dust is settling, and he isn’t too anxious to kick it up into the air again. How do we classify the little lady with the sliced throat? She brought along legal aid, so let’s say she was after the loot. Maybe, along the way, she earned an assist on the Columbine thing, because she was anxious not to have anything drastic happen before she could get the loot.”
“And what have you been after?” he asked.
“Just a little fun in the sun, Colonel.”
“Like looking at the pictures on Heintz’s wall? Heintz wants to be a company man, but he thinks it was a hell of a bang too. What if Taggart thought he would sleep better if Miguel for sure, and maybe the Hichin girl along with him, had one of those boating accidents you give the big talk about?”
The man had a very flexible and interesting mind. I checked his concept for about twenty seconds. Sam did have the opportunity. And it would be a horrid irony if the package he had prepared had waited right there until Nora was in range.
“No. It wasn’t his style.”
He shook his head sadly. “You spoil the fun. You tell me too much too fast, McGee. See what you told me? That you knew him that well and that he’s dead.”
“I’ve lowered my guard because I trust you, Colonel.”
“My God, that is so unique, I don’t know how to handle it. I seldom trust myself, even.”
I was fascinated by the computer mechanism behind that Aztec face, so I put another little piece of data into the machine. “Of course, Miss Gardino knew him better than I ever did.”
“So! An emotional pilgrimage. I’m disappointed in you, McGee. Or did I speak too fast, eh? Emotional for her? Loot for you?”
“Something like that.”
“One little area of speculation is left. It will never be proved one away or another. I think these things entertain you too. Taggart and Alconedo do some very dirty work for Don Carlos. Certain people are getting too close to Don Carlos. Perhaps he has promised them much money for special work they have done. So he makes a sly scheme, eh? He will leave the house with Miguel and Taggart to go to the boat. His pockets are full of bank books, eh? Perhaps an old and trusted friend is at the hotel with a car. There is a hell of a bang, and the car drives away, with Don Carlos hiding under a blanket, maybe.” His smile broadened. “But it is so difficult to arrange, so intricate, so full of suspense, eh? With the strain, a little blood vessel goes pop in Don Carlos’ head. How many times can a man successfully disappear?”
“Son of a gun!”
“It entertains me too. Taggart left with loot. What if he had left, or planned to, on that boat. Perhaps with Miss Hichin. The possible combinations are interesting. Ah, well. You are scheduled to leave tomorrow. You can leave.”
“Thanks.”
“You were discreet with those drab little news people. There is no need to kick up dust now. Let it all settle. The dead women are in transit. Don Carlos and his wife will be in institutions. We have the problem of those other Cubans. The land syndicate will find a buyer for the house. May I say a few things to you, McGee? On a personal level?”
Si, mi Coronel.“
“My God, what a horrible accent! I think you are a reckless man. I think you are a mischievous man. But you have good intentions. You have a sour view of yourself, eh? You are… I would say a talented amateur in these matters. But an adult, I think. One finds so few American adults these days. To you, the village Mexicans are people. Not quaint dirty actors we supply to make the home movies look better. I have some problems I work on. Tampico, Acapulco, Mexicali. Three kinds of nastiness. If you’re bored, we could have some fun. I can give you no official protection. I would use you, and pay you very little out of some special funds they give me. I would throw you into those situations, and see what happens.”
“I’m flattered, but no thanks.”
“No temptation at all?”
“Not very much. I guess I get into things, Colonel, because I get personally and emotionally involved.”
“The stamp of the amateur, of course. But why set up an order of which has to come first, my friend? Because you have the soul of an amateur, you will find that personal emotional involvement after you get into these things. You will always bleed for the victims. And always have the capacity for terrible righteous anger. This recruiting is very irregular, McGee. But when you are in the business of using people, it is hard to let a special person slip away.”
“Give me a great big medal for what I accomplished here, Marquez.”
“Don’t be bitter about the woman. If she wasn’t willing to accept risk she wouldn’t have come here. She could stand there unharmed while a thousand boats blew up. This was the thousand and first.”
“You are overvaluing me, Colonel.”
“Maybe you mean this thing is not over for you yet.”
“Possibly.”
He put his hand out. “When it is over… if you survive it… if you have some curiosity, write me at this address. Just say you are going to visit Mexico and would like to have a drink with me. By then I will know much more about you than I know now. But I don’t overvalue you, McGee. The affair of the knife at the Tres Panchos was very swift and competent. One day I would like to know just how you managed the dog. And before leaving, do not forget the interesting photographs in the base of the lamp.”
“Colonel, you are showing off.”
He made a sad face. “That is the flaw in my personality. Vanity. And your flaw is sentimentality. They are the flaws which will inevitably kill us both. But let us enjoy them before the time runs out, eh? Buena suerte, amigo. And good hunting. And God grant we meet again.”
Sixteen
UPON RETURN to this country from any quiet corner of a foreign land, the most immediate impression is that of noise; continuous, oppressive, meaningless noise. Highway noise-from the labored snarl of the big rigs shifting on the grades to the pneumatic whuff of fast passenger traffic. The bell sounds of wrenches dropped on cement garage floors. Diesel bray. Restaurants all clatter and babble like huge cocktail parties, the sound rising above that stupefying placebo of Muzak, which is like cotton candy being stuffed into the ears. Sound trucks, brash snatches of radio music and TV laughter, shuffle and tick-tock of sidewalks full of people, rackety clatter of machines filling out paper forms, horn blatt, brake squeal, yelps of children, shrieking passage of the jets.