‘You’re out of your mind,’ Clancy said.
We’d listened to the early-morning radio news, and there’d been nothing about Nathan’s death. And only a few minutes ago, Clancy had phoned a colleague at the newsdesk and asked if any reports had come in of ‘anything’ happening in the park. The colleague’s reply had been negative.
‘First,’ Bel said, ‘you’re going to go back to that hospital. I don’t want you keeling over on me, Michael.’
‘And we need to change cars,’ Clancy added. He had a point. It would be a lot safer heading back to the peninsula in a new car. The campers had seen me sitting in a VW Rabbit, which was a world away from a Trans-Am. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Why don’t I drop the two of you off at the hospital, go fetch the Trans-Am and pick you up again afterwards?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ said Bel.
So that was agreed. We checked that the car was ready and that my hospital appointment was confirmed. I checked we’d left nothing in the Rabbit before we left the hotel.
The car worried me. All it needed was for one camper to remember the licence plate and reel it off to the police, and they would track it instantly by computer to the repair shop, where the owner knew Clancy. And once they knew about Clancy, that would be the end of it.
I had to trust to luck that no one would remember the plate. And I hated trusting to anything other than myself.
Bel and I sat in the hospital for a while. She remarked how bright and new it seemed, how well equipped. She was just making conversation, that was all.
‘Wait till you see what they charge,’ I told her, ‘then you won’t be surprised.’
We were getting through the money. I didn’t like to think about how I’d go about earning some more.
‘I wish I’d been there when you killed him,’ Bel said quietly.
‘I didn’t kill him,’ I reminded her. ‘And for God’s sake, why would you want to be there?’
She turned to me and smiled a humourless smile.
I saw the doctor and everything seemed to be all right. He insisted on a few blood tests, since he wanted to be ‘on the safe side’, even though I objected I’d be flying back to England in a few days.
After all of which, I parted with some cash. The person behind the desk pointed out that they couldn’t know yet how much everything would cost, since the blood tests were done at an independent lab, so they’d bill me later. I gave my fake address again, the same one I’d given the previous night, and walked out of the hospital knowing I’d saved a few dollars at least.
Then we waited for Clancy. We waited a long time. At last we gave up and took a cab back to the hotel.
The receptionist remembered something as Bel and I stood waiting for the elevator.
‘Oh, Mr West? Did your friends get in touch?’
‘Sorry?’
‘There were a couple of calls for you yesterday evening. I said you were out.’
‘Did they leave a name?’
‘I’m sorry, sir, they just said you were expecting them to call.’
Well, in a way this was true. I walked back to the desk.
‘We’ll be checking out,’ I said.
She looked surprised. ‘Nothing wrong, I hope?’
‘I’ve got to go back to England. You can see I’ve been in an accident...’
‘Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but—’
‘And the medical costs here are too high. We’re just going up to our room to pack. Could you make up our bill?’
‘Yes, of course.’
The elevator had arrived. I followed Bel into it. She waited till the doors had closed before she asked what was wrong.
‘Everything,’ I said. ‘Someone knows we’re here. It had to happen, we’re just lucky we got this warning.’
We packed quickly. I kept the Colt Commando near the top of my bag, and put the pistol in my waistband. If you see someone in the US with his shirt hanging outside his trousers, think gun.
I paid our bill and the receptionist hoped she’d see us again. I wasn’t laying bets on it as I went outside and found a cab. Only when he’d pulled up to the hotel door did I signal for Bel to come out. We loaded our bags into the boot, as well as a carrier bag belonging to Clancy. Inside it were a camera, film, and a small cassette recorder.
‘Sea-Tac?’ our driver asked. But I gave him the address of the car repair shop instead.
We passed close by the hospital and stuck to the main route. But the road ahead was cordoned off, and a police officer was waving traffic on to other streets.
‘Musta been an accident,’ the driver said.
‘Can you pull over?’ I asked him. He did. ‘Wait here, I’ll only be a minute.’ I told Bel to stay put. I think she knew what was going through my mind. She bit her lip but nodded.
I walked back towards the cordon. There were sightseers standing beside it. A car was standing at traffic lights, officials milling around it. An ambulance was there, but mostly I saw people who looked like detectives. Some of them were taking photographs.
The stalled car was our white Trans-Am. There were splashes of blood on the windshield. A sightseer asked what was going on. A veteran at the scene was eager to supply details.
‘A drive-by shooting. Probably pushers, it’s getting as bad here as LA. Guy’s dead. They sprayed him all over the inside of the car. Looks like strawberries in a blender, the cops told me.’
‘Strawberries, huh?’
I walked away with deadened feet. Bel didn’t need to ask. I told the driver there was a change of destination. He took us out on to Aurora until we found a cheap motel with a red-neon vacancy.
It reminded me of the first motel we’d stayed in after buying the Trans-Am: gaudy colors and infrequent maid-service. I went out to the ice machine while Bel unwrapped the sanitized plastic tumblers she’d found in the bathroom.
We drank tequila. Bel finished her second one before collapsing on the bed in tears. I stood at the window and looked out through the slats in the blind. I’d specified a room round the back of the motel, not sure how much safer this made things. My view through the window was of the parking area, strewn with litter, and behind it a narrow street with junkyard housing, hardly meriting the description ‘bungalows’.
‘What do we do now?’ she said.
‘Same as we would have done,’ I replied. ‘Only now we know they’re close to us. Forewarned is forearmed.’
‘Yes, and cleanliness is next to godliness. It doesn’t mean anything, Michael.’
‘Bel.’ I went to the bed and pulled her up, hugging her close. I ran my hands down her hair. I kissed her wet cheeks. I didn’t know how long we’d be safe in this motel. A couple of days maybe, but it could be less. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of motels on Aurora. But I was sure Kline or his men would search each one. The quicker we went to work the better.
‘Stay here,’ I said. ‘Switch the TV on. They’ve got HBO.’
‘I don’t want HBO! I want this to end!’
‘Bel, it’s ending, believe me.’ I just didn’t trust myself to script the finale.
I did something not many people do on Aurora. I walked. There wasn’t much in the way of pavement, and the drivers looked at me like I was roadkill. I didn’t have far to walk though. Our motel hadn’t been entirely chosen at random. It happened to be close to half a dozen used-car lots. I walked into the first one and browsed. There were some serious cars here, highly-polished numbers from the ’50s and early ’60s, all chrome and fin and leather. But I wanted something a lot more prosaic. Most important of all, I wanted local plates. We needed to merge with the scenery.
‘Hi, can I help you?’
He was exactly what you’d expect: ill-chosen clothes and a grinning cigar. He walked with splayed feet and was shaped like a rugby balclass="underline" all stomach, tapering off top and bottom. I asked about a couple of the cars, and said I might be back. I also told him I’d be paying cash.