He went quiet after that, and I fell silent too. I didn't doubt that everything he said was true. I only wondered whether I had the character for it. I was a photographer. I didn't know if I had a warrior's blood.
"Actually," he said, "it won't be so bad. I'll always be there watching your back. I want you to take pictures too. The more you take, the more they'll fear you because photographs are their nemesis. And with pictures, if things go wrong, you'll have material to take to Scotto.
The cops would rather put away a decadent killer like Darling than a one-time amateur blackmailer like you."
"Okay," I said, "what's number six?"
"Neutralize the cops. You've handled them pretty well so far, but you can't leave them hanging the way you did. From your description Scotto sounds good, but Ramos may be even better. Good cops are relentless-that's why they choose the work. they like the chase and they like the capture. So when you go back to New York, you're going to have to handle them with care.
"Another thing you're going to have to do is sacrifice Rakoubian. Sounds harsh, but the guy deserves it. He deserves whatever he gets."?"
"What do you mean-'sacrifice'.
"Squeal on him. Have Kim tell Mrs. Z he took the pictures. they may kill him for that, which wouldn't be such a bad thing-you'll be rid of the one person who might try to extort from you later on. Also7 you'll give Once they Darling and Mrs. Z an outlet for their rage. do something to him they may feel a lot less anger toward you." I thought about that, and, funny thing, the longer I thought about it, the better I felt. Rakoubian had been willing to see me killed. Whatever happened to him now came with the territory.
Okay," I said.
"What's next?" ily a guy like "An idea I have about Darling. Norma that would insulate himself. If he wanted to get rid of Shadow he'd contract out the job. He didn't. He tortured her. Which tells you what a'twisted animal he is. But there's more. See, it's pretty clear he had some help, someone to drive her body to Newark, and those two street. Which means there're guys who chased Kim on the nd no matter people around who know what he did, a they probably don't like him what kind of goons they are, n-'oying it they're for hurting girls and e j – Guys like that, if caught, they'll spill their guts, and Darling's got to know that too.
That has to keep him up at night, as does the prospect that under certain conditions Mrs. Z may very well-squeal herself. Okay, what does that tell us? That he may have as his objective the liquidation of all these difficulties at once. I mean killing you, me, Kim, his associates, Mrs. Z, everyone who ow@ver.yone. Now, if he does decide to go that route, if he sees that as his only way out, he can't use surrogates, he'll have to do it himself. And that means exposing himself on the field of battle. ,,Which brings me to my final point: choose the battlefield. Ultimately, in a deal like this, there comes the payoff-and-exchange when the parties have to meet. That's the most dangerous time, the time we're most vulnerable, the time we want to control the territory. Can't be the base. Key West's your base-the place you take the Money and hide out.
And New York's no good-it's their territory as much as yours. Which leaves New Mexico. Resolve 't out here, my stamping grounds, and we'll have a big advantage."
I'd been listening so intently, I didn't notice that just before Santa Cruz he had turned off the road to Santa Fe and driven a mile or two along the route to Tierra Amarilla. He stopped the car.
"What's this?" I asked.
"Get out. Take a look."
I got out, looked around, didn't see much of anything.
"You can't tell now," he said, "but right here',-he made a mark with his boot heel in the dirt beside the road-"this is the very spot." floo ked at him. He was grinning.
"Can't help it Geoff. I couldn't resist. This is where Ansel set up his tripod." He motioned to some ruins in a field on the left side of the road.
"That's what's left of the village." He raised his finger above the distant mountains.
"The moon was just about there..
"Moonrise, Hernandez": Ansel Adams's greatest picture, a photograph swooned over by school kids and sophisticated collectors alike. The picture had been printed over nine hundred times, but still the prints were so greatly desired they fetched close to ten thousand dollars whenever they came up at auction.
"to take a picture like that-the thought of it!" Frank looked at me, then down at the ground.
"Don't think you know, but for years I've been jealous of you. Guess most every photographer has. Jealous too of Ansel for 'Moonrise.'
Jealous of Cartier-Bresson for the man leaping over the puddle. Of Kertesz for the man carrying the picture while the train passes on the bri@g@. Of Caponigro for the running deer. Those are the miracle pictures, the ones no matter how good you are, you can never find they have to find you. I've thought about it a lot, why they come to some and not to others, and I've decided I shouldn't be jealous; they've enriched my life too much. I've also come to the conclusion that people don't just stumble into shots like that, that they come to the great photographers because the great photographers are ready.
I was with you, remember, when you took the PietA. You were ready. Were you ever…
When we reached Santa Fe, he called Mai, told her we wouldn't be back till late, then took me on a tour of the town. We strolled around the Plaza, then looked into the galleries on Canyon Road.
Most of what we saw was garbage: sentimental paintings of Navaho women and illustrator-type coWhoy scenes. The prices shocked me when I considered the fact that the galleries wouldn't charge them unless they were what people were willing to pay.
After dinner at a Mexican place, Frank took me back to his studio. While he disappeared into his darkroom to finish up some work, the full force of what he'd said coming down from Taos suddenly hit me hard.
He was talking about killing or being killed, and sacrificing Rakoubian as if he were a pawn. I didn't know if I was ready for stuff like that.
I picked up the phone on his desk and called Kim in Key West.
I caught her just as she was about to leave for work.
"Geoffrey, what a terrific time to call. I was starting to get depressed about tonight. How's it going? It's so humid here, you sweat from just thinking about going out." The notion of her sweating turned me on. I imagined the gloss on her forehead, the faint aromatic flavor of her skin.
"Frank thinks we can do it," I said. "Great! Is he willing to join us?"
"Yeah. Only problem is-it could turn violent, he says. I don't know if I'm up to that." There was a pause before she spoke. "Don't worry about it. "
"I am worried."
"Frank's our hired gun."
"Yeah…?"
"So we'll let him take care of the violent parts." She paused again.
"Hey! I miss you, lover-boy!"
"And I miss you."
"It's hard to sleep alone."
"Hard for me too." "Come back soon, will you?"
"Looks like we'll be meeting in New York."
"All the better," she said, 11 I cause I'm really starting to loathe this place. I'd love it, of course, if I could lounge around the Pier House pool. But waiting on tables… Well, it won't be long now. When you and I are done with this thing we'll own Duval Street. Got to go to work, Geoffrey. But I want to leave you with a thought. Instead of letting the danger scare you, see if you can let it turn you on. Go with it, the why you did with Dirty Adam. The way you did that first night down here. Remember how you ripped my clothes and left my brains on the floor?" She laughed.