“Jinotega…”
“Maybe we can take them out of there. Help them have new homes and plenty rice and beans to eat.”
They were on the Airline Highway heading back to New Orleans. Jack said, “You know the woman at Carville, who was in the coach with me? Her name’s Lucy Nichols.”
“Yes, I hear Colonel Godoy say that name.”
“She worked in a hospital for lepers near Jinotega, the city.”
“The city of Jinotega, I think it’s far from Kusu de Bocay.”
“The colonel came to the hospital and killed the lepers and burned it down.”
“I believe it.”
“Lucy wants to build the hospital again.”
“Yes, that’s good.”
“She’s a good woman.”
Franklin didn’t say anything and they drove in silence for a mile or so, Jack thinking.
“Yeah, I was pretty sure you were taking a flight. But you just went out to return the car, huh?”
“They call me, say to take it back. It’s okay, I have time.”
“But now you have to get to Gulfport.”
Franklin didn’t say anything and Jack thought of his meeting with Wally Scales, keeping his mouth shut if the guy didn’t ask a direct question.
“You know how you’re gonna get there?”
“Yes, I know.”
Man, it was work. “You gonna take a bus?”
“No, not take a bus.”
“But you are gonna get on the boat.”
“Yes, of course. Go home.”
“But Colonel Godoy and Crispin, you’re convinced now, they’re not gonna get on the boat.”
“Yes, I know that. What you told me and what Wally Scales told me.”
Jack had to think. If he was supposed to know so much he had to be careful what he asked. They came to Tulane Avenue and followed it into Rampart.
“Well, I’m glad this’s working out for you, Franklin.”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d be gone.”
“Pretty soon.”
“I followed you out to the airport.”
“Yes, I know. It was kind of you.”
“Yeah, I wanted to say good-bye. Maybe have a cup of coffee. Hey, after all that vodka we had last night, you feel okay?”
“Yes, fine.”
Jack turned off Rampart onto Conti, one-way into the Quarter toward the river.
“We’re almost back. Where can I drop you off?”
“Anyplace you want. I have to go back to that hotel.”
Oh, shit. Jack took a moment. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Franklin.” Then began to think that it might, in fact, be a wonderful idea. “Why do you want to see them again?”
“I have to tell them I quit and say good-bye.”
“You’re not gonna say anything about your going on the boat. I wouldn’t mention that.”
“No, tell them I quit and say good-bye.”
“They might be asleep.”
“No, they call me. Crispin.”
“He stayed there all night,” Jack said. “They had some women stop in for a party.”
“Oh, you know that?”
“Hey, Franklin, I even know what they haven’t done yet, right?” Franklin was looking at him, grinning. He had a gold tooth. “I told you about it as a special favor, even though I shouldn’t have. But that’s okay, we’re friends, right?”
“Yes, we friends.”
“Listen, you go up to the room they’re gonna be packing, I suppose. Or maybe throwing up in the bathroom after their big night, huh?” That got a grin. “Listen, while you’re in there and they’re not looking, you might have a chance to do me a favor, in return.”
Lucy said, “He’s back,” and watched Jack’s Scirocco, coming into the garage from the Conti Street entrance, roll past the row where Lucy’s car was parked and come to a stop in the drive.
Close behind her, Roy said, “Who’s that with him? Jesus Christ, he brought the guy back.”
Lucy watched Franklin come out of the Scirocco and walk off toward the Bienville Street exit, carrying a flight bag. Now Jack was out, standing by the car with the door open.
“They had a long talk last night.”
“Who did?”
“Jack and Franklin.”
“About what?”
Jack was saying something to Franklin. Lucy watched Franklin look back and raise his hand to wave. Now he was going up the ramp to the street and Jack was looking this way, over the top of his car.
“They had a long talk about what?”
She watched Jack close his car door and walk around the back of it coming toward them, in no particular hurry but with an expression that was a good sign, alive, somewhat eager. While close behind her Roy was yelling out his window now, “Will you get over here, for Christ sake?”
Jack looked at Roy but wasn’t going to be hurried. Lucy turned to face him as he hunched over and put his head in the window, close to her.
He said, “We might have it made,” and then looked at Roy. “If you’ll go over to the hotel, stand in the courtyard. After Franklin comes down, watch for the colonel. He comes flying out of the room, stop him. Give him some kind of official bullshit for about five minutes. If he comes out. He might not.”
“Can I ask why I’m doing this, Jack?”
“Because you’re our hero, Roy, and the colonel doesn’t know that.”
“And what’re you gonna be doing, if anything?”
“Taking a peek in their car. Franklin’s gonna see if he can get us the keys.”
FRANKLIN CAME OFF THE elevator with his flight bag, stepped over to 501, right there to the left, and knocked on the door. He waited and knocked again and waited and knocked again. There were no sounds from inside. But they were here or downstairs in the dining room or somewhere, because that new car was still in the garage. He turned and saw a thin black woman in a maid’s uniform that hung straight on her without shape, her hands resting on a cart loaded with towels and sheets, a plastic bucket and bottles of cleaning compounds. Franklin said to her, “Let me ask you, Mother, did you see them come out of here?”
The woman stood in profile watching him without appearing to watch him, her head only slightly turned.
“I work for them,” Franklin said, “but I’m going to quit and I want to tell them.”
The woman turned from the cart to look right at him now. She had something in her cheek he believed was snuff or tobacco.
“You gonna quit, uh?”
“I don’t like working for them.” He moved toward her a few steps, as far as the elevator.
“They don’t treat you good?”
Franklin shook his head. “I don’t like them. Do you think they in there?”
“I believe so. Where you from?”
“From Nicaragua.”
“Yeah, I thought you from somewhere, the way you talk. You leaving, huh?” When Franklin nodded she said, “They leaving too?” When he nodded again she said, “Good. I never seen a mess like I have to clean up after that man. I see him, he don’t give me the time a day.”
“It’s the way they are,” Franklin said. “I wonder, Mother, if you can open the door for me.”
“Sure, honey, I be happy to.”
Franklin gave her a dollar.
Inside, he heard music and heard them talking in the bedroom as he looked around, saw the room-service table, the mess of dirty glasses and dishes, cushions from the sofa on the floor and smelled the odor of stale cigarette smoke. He crossed the sitting room to the desk in the corner. The colonel’s briefcase was here, but not the car keys. The sacks from the banks, he noticed now, were on the floor beneath the desk. He placed his flight bag on the chair and stooped over to feel one of the round sacks and look at the metal clamp that held it closed. It would be nothing to open it. He straightened, looking at the desk again, wondering if he should open the colonel’s briefcase that was made of alligator skin.
The colonel’s voice said, in Spanish, “What are you doing there?”
Franklin turned. The colonel stood in his tight shiny red underwear, a few feet from the bedroom doorway.