I tried the knob. It turned easily and the door opened.
In a way it was like visiting your own tomb.
There was my chair by the window. The drop leaf table Mrs. Winkler gave me was still in its usual position by the wall. Somebody had stolen the mirror and the magazine rack. When I turned the light into the bedroom the framework of the iron bed made a grilled pattern in shadows on the wall. Somebody had swiped the mattresses too.
I walked to the window and looked out into the street. The haze of dirt put things out of focus. I turned the head of the torch ceilingwise and put it on the floor, then sat down in the armchair.
Almost softly I said, “It’s a ‘once-upon-a-time’ story. It started in Lisbon where two drunks named ’Fredo and Spanish Tom accidentally witnessed the caching of a narcotics shipment. In cubic displacement it only made a small package, eight kilos worth, but in value a multi-million dollar proposition. They never realized the full value of it. A few grand was as far as they could think.
“But others knew what it meant. In port they contacted a Spanish speaking buddy, Juan Gonzales. He knew a guy who had the loot to make the buy. That takes us to my old friend Billings. The louse.”
For some reason I didn’t feel the quick flush of hate I used to feel when I thought of his name.
“Juan made the buy for Billings, all right, and probably before he could pass over the ten grand he paid for it to Tom and ’Fredo, they shipped out. Juan didn’t care for ten grand... you see, he was going to be Billings’ partner in something really big. He even told his wife the great things they’d do... things you don’t do on only ten grand.
“And now the rub. Billings didn’t want a partner. The big cross was coming up and Juan could feel it. He didn’t have a chance in the world and he protected his wife the only way he could. He gave her that ten grand then tried to skip out. He didn’t get far. Billings was waiting. He shoved him under a truck and that took care of Juan. He didn’t worry about the other two since they never knew who made the buy.”
The curiosity in her eyes deepened. Her tongue made a slight movement between her teeth as she followed my thought. She said, “But those other two... they’re dead.”
“I know. I’ll come to that.
“Billings put eight kilos of junk on the market. I can’t figure how he could have been so incredibly stupid, but apparently his greed got the better of him. Eight kilos! This was the biggest load that ever hit the states in one piece!”
I stopped a moment, thought about it, then said reflectively, “You know, this was what they were waiting for.”
“They?” She was perched on the edge of the dropleaf table, her hands folded under her breasts making them strain against the fabric of the raincoat.
“They, sugar. Whenever eight kilos of H gets away from its handlers there’s some hell waiting for somebody. An organizational hijacking they could cope with, but not coincidence. They didn’t know where it was, but they knew it would show up in time. When it did they went after it and Billings was their target. The slob got smart too late.
“When the word went out how hot the junk was nobody would touch it. There were no buyers. That’s when Billings knew he was about to be tapped. He tried to protect himself by going to a policing agency, but again it was too late. The stakes were too high. They knocked off his protection, moved in close and were ready to tap him out.
“Buddy Billings made his final move. He knew they wanted the stuff as well as him, so like he had done once before, he included me in the mess. Hell, he knew where I lived. He wanted me dead or imprisoned... anything to pay for the anxiety I had made him live with all the days I had hunted for him.”
I stopped, sucked in a deep breath and looked at the ceiling patterns again.
“He hid the junk in my place, kid. He probably figured on writing an anonymous letter or something but they caught up with him beforehand. He wasn’t quite dead when a cop found him. His last words implicated me.
“Now catch this. By now the underworld has been rattling with this story. The policy agency involved have a good picture of what they’re after. This stuff has to be found before the original owners get it and put it into circulation.
“The catch, kiddo. They have two names. Mine, and a certain Lodo. The last one is a killer. The head of operation kill. The wheel that Mafia HQ keeps set up to enforce its east coast programs and keep things in line. Lodo is rarely called upon, that’s how clever the organization is, how big it is, how tightly it can work within the frameworks of certain governments. Narcotics are big... and legal... businesses in several countries. Lodo is an important cog in the machine... and Lodo is only a cover name.
“Lodo must be smart, untouchable, able to operate without suspicion. And now Lodo is responsible for recovery of eight kilos of H.”
She began to see what I was driving at. “And all that time it was... at your place?”
“That’s right.”
She looked around quickly. “Here?”
I nodded. “Billings’ mistake. He didn’t know about the move.”
“All that... is here?”
“I could almost say where.”
She waited, her face reflecting her interest. I got up, went to the kitchen and in the barren limits of the light felt for the obvious wall partition by the sink that opened onto a series of valves. I hauled the carton out and shut the partition. My arm hit a cup that still stood on the sink and it crashed to the floor.
In the living room I heard Carmen gasp.
I put the carton beside the torch and sat down. “There was no other place in this dump to hide anything,” I said.
The box fascinated her. I tapped it with my foot. “Eight kilos. Millions. Not one or two. Not ten. More than that. Enough to get a whole city killed off.”
“It... doesn’t seem like much,” she admitted.
“It never does.”
“And you found it. Nobody else could. Just you.” Her voice held a touch of admiration and she was smiling.
“There were red herrings. Money Billings won on the nags. The fuzz thought it was loot I paid him for the stuff. You know, all that time they sucked me in thinking I had possession and were trying to get it out of me. They knew I had to play their little game or else.”
“Game?”
“Sure, sweetie. In my own crazy way I’m a fuzz too. They played the game to the hilt. They played it two ways at once and played it smart. I was the complete unknown and they didn’t know what to do with me. What they pulled might be called the Ultimate Stunt. I like that. It fits real well. But what I like best is what I told them in the beginning. I was right. I was bigger than their whole damn department. Hoodtown’s my back yard too and the game is my game as much as theirs. If I felt like it I could bust this play open like a ripe egg. Alone.”
I said suddenly, “What made you do it. Carmen?”
She frowned and asked the question silently.
“Take the job, I mean.”
“Job?”
“Lodo,” I said softly. “My beautiful big lovely is Lodo.”
Her breath came in a gasp. “Ryan!”
“I’m going to guess again, kid. Check me. You probably never have before. But look deep. Look at a kid brought up around the gaming tables whose ears catch talk and intents kids shouldn’t hear. Look at a kid who gets used to wrong money young, who learns the mechanics of card handling from an expert and who finds a taste for those things develop into a lust for them.”
The next thing I let come out slowly.
“Look at a kid who blew a guy’s head off from ten feet away and think of what impact that had on a mind already decaying.”