“Couldn’t think of much reason why I should.”
“What are they — mercenaries?”
“Kind of.”
“And you trust them?”
Stallings nodded.
“Then you’re as big a fool as ever.”
Stallings stopped leaning on the table and straightened slowly, cocking his head a little to the left as if to make sure he heard what came next.
“Say it, Al. Whatever it is.”
Espiritu studied Stallings with what seemed to be detached interest. “Very well. At three this afternoon, according to Carmen, one of your trusted colleagues is coming to see me with what I’m told is an interesting counterproposal, the details of which are yet to be revealed.”
Stallings was surprised at his sudden rage, which seemed so real and rare and pure that he almost enjoyed it. He leaned across the table toward Espiritu, started to reach for him, thought better of it and again straightened.
“Which one, Al?” he said, making the words grate. “Which one of the fuckers is it?”
Espiritu smiled, still studying Stallings with interest. “You were going to hit me, weren’t you?”
“Which one, Al?”
“The one called Overby.”
Stallings’ anger seeped away, replaced by sadness and disappointment. “Otherguy,” he said, more to himself than to Espiritu. “Somehow, I didn’t think it would be Otherguy.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
When the moving mass blocked out the sun at 10:52 A.M., Georgia Blue’s eyes snapped open. She was wearing an immodest green bikini and lying on one of the wheeled chaise longues near the Magellan Hotel pool. The shoulder bag was nearby and her hand darted toward it but stopped when the heavy woman in the bright red slacks said, “I’m Minnie Espiritu.”
“Minnie?”
“Minerva. And I’ve got a letter for either Wu or Durant, except they’re not in. The desk says you’re with them so I guess I can give it to you.”
Georgia Blue sat up slowly. “Minerva Espiritu?”
“Alejandro’s sister.”
“You’re from—”
Minnie Espiritu interrupted, as if in a hurry. “From here. Cebu. But I spent a lot of time in California and sure wish I was back there.” Wariness spread across her face. “You are Georgia Blue, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Minnie Espiritu dropped a folded copy of The Manila Bulletin on the chaise longue near Georgia Blue’s feet, fished a pack of cigarettes out of her red pants pocket and lit one, using both hands to shield the match. She blew the smoke out and turned to inspect the pool and the guests. “Inside the paper,” she said, still inspecting the pool.
“I’ll take it up to my room.”
Minnie Espiritu nodded, continuing her inspection. “The Magellan’s not bad,” she said. “I like nice hotels. If I had my way, I’d check into one and never check out. Well, nice meeting you.”
She turned and headed toward the hotel. Georgia Blue yawned, seemed to notice the folded Manila Bulletin for the first time, picked it up and carelessly stuck it into her shoulder bag. She then lay back down, her left forearm across her eyes, and waited for five minutes to pass.
In her hotel room, Georgia Blue switched on the air-conditioning, took off her bikini and stood naked in front of the window unit, studying the sealed letter she had found in the folded Bulletin.
It was an ordinary white envelope with nothing written on its front. She held it up to the window. After staring at it for a few seconds she picked up a thin silk robe from a chair and put it on as she crossed to her suitcase. From it she removed a packet of plain white envelopes, comparing one of them with the one that came in the folded newspaper.
Satisfied, she used a nail file to slit open the envelope Minnie Espiritu had delivered, slipped the letter from the envelope and took it to the writing desk. It was a two-page letter, folded once.
A rough map had been drawn on the first page. She ignored it and quickly read what was written on the second page. She read it again, this time more slowly. After the second reading she opened the writing desk drawer, selected a sheet of hotel stationery and copied the map with a ballpoint pen.
Finished, she folded the copy she had made of the map and sealed it in a Magellan Hotel envelope. Picking up the telephone, she dialed an outside number. When it was answered, she said, “Room three-nineteen, please.”
Room 319 answered on the second ring and Georgia Blue said, “Get a pen and take this down.”
She waited until whoever had answered the phone was ready. Then she read into the phone the contents of the letter Minnie Espiritu had delivered. She read at dictation speed, spelling out all abbreviations:
“‘Am bringing A. Espiritu out today, starting approx. 4 P.M. from A on map. Meet us with transp. at B on map, 5:30-6:00 P.M. Stallings.’” She paused. “Got that?”
There was a brief reply and a question. The question irritated Georgia Blue. “Where the hell would I Xerox a map? I copied it.” Another brief question irritated her even more. “With a goddamn pen, what else?” she said and slammed down the phone.
At the open-air counter of the Orange Brutus juice stand on the west side of Jones Avenue, Otherguy Overby was lifting a glass of papaya juice to his lips when Carmen Espiritu joined him on the right and something brushed against him on the left.
Overby put his glass down and turned left to inspect a slim man in his mid-twenties who looked uncomfortable in a white shirt, blue tie and dark gray pants. Overby recognized him as one of the three young men from the night before who had squatted on the mountain trail and smoked cigarettes in the glow of the rented Toyota’s headlights.
Overby nodded at the man and turned to Carmen Espiritu. “Just him?”
“There’re two of them, but you need only talk to this one.”
Overby turned to the man again. “Like some juice?”
The man smiled. “Yes, please. Thank you.”
Overby signaled the counter woman to serve juice to Carmen Espiritu and the man. After it came and the man took his first sip, Overby said, “Her name’s Georgia Blue, B-l-u-e.”
“I can spell blue,” the man said stiffly.
“She’s in room four-two-six.”
“Excuse me,” the man said. “But what exactly do we ask her?”
“You heard about our big fight this morning?” Overby said.
The man nodded.
“Ask her about that and what caused it and if I need money and how much.”
This time the young man looked thoughtful when he nodded. “We are to be very suspicious of you.”
“Right.”
“What if she refuses to answer?”
Overby shrugged. “Slap her around a little.”
A frown expressed the man’s disapproval. “That is not... nice.”
Overby stared at the man for a moment and turned to Carmen Espiritu. “Where’d you find Violet here?”
“He’ll do whatever’s necessary,” she said. “But it’s silly. A staged fight followed by a staged interrogation. What good will it do?”
“It’ll make Wu and Durant think everything’s going just like they’ve planned it.” He smiled. “Even me.”
“They’re wondering about you, are they?” she said.
“A little.”
“You also make me wonder, Mr. Overby.”
Overby studied her. “Carmen, would you like me to remind you of something that’ll make you feel just one hell of a lot better?”
“What?”
“Your half,” Overby said, smiling his hard and utterly ruthless smile, “will be two point five million.”
The taxi driver outside the Magellan Hotel knew exactly where the Cebu Plaza Hotel was. But the name of the man to whom he would deliver the sealed envelope that contained the hand-copied map puzzled him. So he asked Georgia Blue to repeat the name slowly.