Part 15 (1/2)
Seventeen.
AT ELEVEN On Thursday night the twelve hours were up. Enelio, Margarita, and I got in to see him. Small room. Hospital gown. Side bars on the bed up. Blue beard on Meyer's jaws. White compress on the head lump. A squatty little girl in gray and white, skin color like old pennies, was pumping the bulb on the blood pressure gadget and reading the levels.
”Well, well, well,” said Meyer.
Fuentes said, ”Meyer, if you were a gentlemen, you would tell the young lady there is a beetle crawling right across that little nurse cap.” When she did not move, Enelio smiled and said, ”No English.”
”Some day,” said Meyer, ”kindly tell me what happened. Memory stopped. Travis, you are not limping as much.”
”They stuck something in there that works like novocaine.”
The girl posted her chart and started taking his pulse, moving her lips as she watched the sweep second on the gold watch pinned to her uniform.
”Meyer,” I said, ”it now appears that they do not have to open your skull and examine the contents.”
His eyes went wide. ”They were thinking of it?”
”All day long.”
”Too bad,” he said, ”to deprive them of the chance. Better luck next time.”
”Now we're going to the Victoria and celebrate. We'll order drinks for you too and take turns drinking yours.”
”Salud, and happy days.”
Margarita, however, was not going. She had pulled a chair close to the far side of the bed. The squatty student nurse made querulous objection. Margarita blazed up and exploded several packages of Spanish firecrackers around the girl's head. It backed her up and shut her up, and she soon resumed her testing.
Margarita looked content as a cat on a warm hearth. She held Meyer's hand, and with her free hand, she gave that odd little Mexican good-by wave, which looks more like a summoning than a dismissal.
Meyer gave us an inordinately fatuous smile. I told him I'd be back in the morning. He told me not to put myself out. Elena was waiting in the Falcon. She did not seem at all surprised that her sister had stayed with Meyer. I got the feeling it would have astonished her if Margarita had not stayed. Enelio followed us back to the Victoria. I left Elena off at the main building and told her to wait for me in the lounge. I parked the car there, and concealed the weapon once more, and walked down to the cottage with Enelio. Inside the cottage, with the blinds and draperies closed, Enelio stood and held the handle and let the stone ball swing from side to side, then swung it a few times, cautiously.
”Hey, one h.e.l.l of a thing. I have seen the autenticos, in collections. Very much the same thing. Any weapon, they keep changing it, changing it, until it is as dangerous as they can make it. I think you better throw this thing away, my friend.”
”I have that feeling about it too.”
”By G.o.d, they were a b.l.o.o.d.y people. A thing like this, there's no halfway. What it does is kill.”
I took it and put it in the closet on a shelf. I got out a bottle of genuine bottled-in-Guadalajara House of Lords gin, and phoned up for ice for both of us, and some mix for Senor Fuentes.
”What about the camper?”
”Fonny thing. One of our pilots saw something s.h.i.+ny in that arroyo and reported it to the Federales. Maybe they went out today. Maybe in the morning. No talk about it yet. I tell you, Martinez and Tielma are getting d.a.m.n sick and tired of dead American tourists. Telephone calls come from Mexico City. 'What are you trying to do down there, you estupidos! Ruin business?' But I think the little fat man is no problem. Mexico is full of pyramids and temples and they are all of stone, and Mexico is full of tourists, and some of them are feeble and some are careless and some are dronk, and some have bad hearts, and faint and fall, so it is not something special, one more little. man with a sack full of pieces of pots, eh?”
”If anybody else had shown up, it would have been a different ball game.”
”Not so many go to Yagul. Some days probably n.o.body. Maybe two or three days, n.o.body.”
The ice and mix came. We fixed our own. He gave a little lift of his gla.s.s and gave that Spanish toast that covers everything there is. ”Health, money, love, and time to enjoy them.” I've never been able to think of anything it doesn't cover.
”So,” said Enelio, ”your friend will be all right, and now it is finished, and now you go home and you tell nice pretty little lies to the father, eh?”
”Is it finished? All day I've been worrying about Meyer with half my mind and using the other half to list the questions I would have asked Wally McLeen but didn't get a chance to.”
”What do you need to know from some fat little madman?”
”I wanted to know who crazed him. Somebody had to give him enough sordid and factual information to actually arm him like a bomb, to turn him into a deadly weapon.”
”You told me he talked to that Rocko?”
”Yes. Apparently on the first night he was here. So he came here knowing who to look for. So I think it's fair to say that somewhere along the line Minda dropped him a letter or a postcard, telling who she was with and their destination. Otherwise, he and Rockland got together too fast. Too big a coincidence. I can see how Rocko would see it as a way to come up with some quick money. That would be his style, to sell a man his own daughter. But there wouldn't be any point in Rocko talking about what shape the girl was in, or talking about what kind of a trip they'd had, or telling him his daughter was hooked on speed.”
”Speed?”
”Stimulants. Amphetamines. Dexedrine. People develop a physical tolerance but not a mental tolerance, so they hit it heavier and heavier and they can get pretty nervous and erratic. If they get so dead for sleep they try to balance it off with barbiturates, then the real trouble starts. Look, Enelio, Wally McLeen came here to find his daughter. He went looking for Rockland and found him. So Rockland said that, for a fee, he might be able to produce her. He knew the girls were guests of Eva Vitrier, and we can a.s.sume he knew her place is like a fortress. What he would have to do is get to Minda, con her into writing a note to her father, peddle the note for half the money with the balance on delivery of the girl. But according to what Mrs. Vitrier told the police when she identified the body of the Bowie girl, Minda and Bix had quarreled, and Minda had gone to Mexico City a few days earlier. So Rockland went back to Bruce Bundy's house and tried to leave in the middle of the night, but Bundy had different ideas. So he didn't get to leave until Sat.u.r.day, a little past noon. That leaves the rest of Thursday evening, and all day Friday, and half of Sat.u.r.day, for Wally McLeen to find out where his daughter might be. I think he could have managed it. I think he could have gotten to the Vitrier estate without any help from Rockland. That's as far as I can take it. It's a point of focus, for Wally McLeen, Minda, Rockland and Bix. So the Frenchwoman must know something that will make sense out of it. What's the name of that little lawyer again, on the crutches?”
”Alfredo Gaona y Navares.”
”And I can't get past him to locate Eva Vitrier. Can you?”
”I would think no.”
”But he does communicate important things to her.”
'Maybe not direct. Anyway, I have told you-I don't want to play very much of these games of yours, McGee.”
”What if he can communicate with her directly? Is there anything that anybody could tell him that he'd think important enough to bother her with?”
Enelio got up and fixed a new drink. He shrugged. ”I suppose he is responsible for the house here, and the staff. It must always be ready for her at any moment, I understand. I cannot think of any problem of the house he could not take care of without bothering her. Unless it is totally destroyed. You want me to burn it down, no thanks!”
”There must be some way.”
”He is a tough old man and he is being paid not to bother her, Travis.”
”And he is a very sharp-minded old man.”
”Very. ”
He roamed the room, scowling, pausing to sip his drink. He stopped in front of me. ”One small idea. No good, maybe. From everywhere in the world it is possible to telephone to Oaxaca. I say possible. Our great larga distancia service makes grown men cry. But if he can be in touch with her, he would follow instructions if there was an order from her to him to phone her at once. Then, if somehow you could learn to where the call is placed... But how can we do that? Hide under his desk? d.a.m.n!”
”Suppose the message came to him by phone, Enelio.”
He looked blank. ”So?”
”Long distance connections are frequently bad, aren't they?”
”Bad? They are unspeakable sometimes.”
”And local lines are out of order sometimes?”