Part 24 (2/2)
”Got a slide lock here on the side. You fire once it doesn't eject, so you don't hear the slide click open. You don't even hear that poumpf poumpf you get with a silencer. You know why? I use a subsonic round, very low muzzle velocity. Take the lock off you hear the slide jack open and close as you fire, but that's all, just that you get with a silencer. You know why? I use a subsonic round, very low muzzle velocity. Take the lock off you hear the slide jack open and close as you fire, but that's all, just that click-click click-click ...You guys ready? Leave your clothes on the floor there.” ...You guys ready? Leave your clothes on the floor there.”
De Boya said, ”You're going to take our clothes?” He stood straight, shoulders back and seemed to be in good shape, heavyset but not too much flab.
”I'll see they don't get wrinkled,” Jiggs said. ”Now get'n the shower. Go on, move.”
”Both of us?” de Boya asked.
”Both of you the same time.” Jiggs stood up now and motioned them into the stall. ”Corky, watch yourself. Don't drop the soap.” Corky was skinnier than he looked in clothes; chewing on that p.u.s.s.y mustache like he was going to cry. ”Okay, turn the water on. Get it how you like it.”
De Boya said, ”What is the need of this?”
Jiggs said, ”Just turn the water on, will you, please?”
He shot de Boya high through the rib cage with his arms raised to adjust the shower head, lung-shot him and shot him again in near silence as de Boya flattened against the wall and began to slide, smearing the tile. Corky was screaming now, hunching, holding his hands out protectively. He shot Corky twice in the chest through one of his hands, Corky's body folding to fall across de Boya curled up like he was trying to keep warm. He watched their heads jump with a final twitch as he shot them each again, watched the stream of water cleanse them, then pulled the shower curtain closed. He'd let the water run while he went out to get the suitcases.
20.
THE BAR JIGGS HAD PICKED OUT for Nolen was on the corner of Atlantic and SW Sixth Avenue on the west side of Pompano, about thirty seconds from the freeway.
Nolen was wearing sungla.s.ses and an old raincoat, creased with wrinkles, his cowboy boots hooked in the rung of the barstool that was as close to the phone booth as he could get: sipping scotch with a twist, fooling with the swizzle stick that was like a little blue sword. Four swords on the bar plus the one he was playing with. The bartender had tried to take them and Nolen told him no, he needed the swords to keep score. He was allowing himself six, no more than that. Just enough to keep his motor responses lubricated, idling. He didn't count the pitcher of sours; that was breakfast. It seemed a long time ago-still there in Moran's house sipping when he got the emergency call from Jiggs, Jiggs saying he was in de Boya's garage and the starting time had been moved up to right now now, he'd call him at the bar when they got to Boca; only it might not be Boca, the general wasn't being very cooperative. All that at once while Nolen was trying to ask him what he was doing in the garage, for Christ sake, and what were all the sirens.
The place was dark and had a nice smell of beer, the bartender down talking to the one other customer that looked like a retiree with his golf cap.
They both looked up as the phone rang in the booth and watched the weird-looking guy in the raincoat and sungla.s.ses almost kill himself getting off his stool, the seat of the stool next to him spinning, throwing him as he leaned on it to get up. The bartender said, ”I sure hope that's your call.”
Nolen waved at him, went in the booth and closed the door. As soon as he heard Jiggs's voice he said, ”The h.e.l.l's going on?”
Jiggs's voice sounded calm. Nolen listened, holding back on all his questions as Jiggs told him where to come, not Boca, but a place west of Lauderdale and not too far.
”Just tell me how it went?”
Jiggs's voice said it went fine, no problem.
”You got it?”
Jiggs's voice said he was going to get it out of the car right now.
”Where's de Boya?”
Jiggs's voice said he was in the bathroom. The voice stopped Nolen then. It said, ”Nolen, you 315.
want to talk on the phone, shoot the s.h.i.+t, or you want to get over here and help me count?”
Moran said to Jerry, ”Mary's gonna be staying with us maybe a few days. Oceanfront Number One.”
Jerry took a moment to adjust before coming on full of cordiality. ”Why sure, that's the one with the view. Except today. But the paper says it's gonna clear up by tomorrow.” He got the key and said to Mary, ”You like to register now? Or you can do it later if you want.”
Mary held back. Moran said, ”Jerry, she's not here. Okay?” He took the key and handed it to Mary. ”If anybody asks.”
”I never saw this young lady before in my life,” Jerry said.
”I mean even if it's the police. All right?”
Jerry sobered. He adjusted his golf cap, resetting it in the same position, c.o.c.ked slightly to one side. ”Yeah, well I don't see any problem.”
”We won't take any guests for a few days. Not that they're breaking down the door.”
”Turn the No Vacancy on?”
”No, let's not tell anybody a thing. I appreciate it, Jerry.”
”I know you do,” Jerry said. He gave Mary a wink, getting the feel of his new role.
Moran opened the door to the courtyard and closed it against the rain coming in. ”Jerry, how about Nolen? Is he around?”
”Got a phone call about an hour ago and left right after. Smashed as usual. I hope he don't get in a car wreck.”
Moran went out with the bags.
Mary said to Jerry, ”Nice seeing you again.” Amazed at this natural response, her voice not giving her away. Outside, hurrying to keep up with Moran moving fast with the three bags, she said, ”I don't believe it.” Her voice raised in the wind. She said, ”Remember how you kept saying that? When I called your room in Santo Domingo-'I don't believe it.' Remember?” Talking out of a compulsion to hear herself and know she was in control. ” 'Come on, I don't believe it.' You said it about five times.”
Moran said over his shoulder, ”I believe it now,” not stopping till they got to the end apartment off the beach, Moran hunching his shoulders against the rain coming in sheets off the ocean, Mary trying to hold her tote out of the way and get the door open.
They were soaked by the time they got inside and Moran let the bags drop. Mary closed the door and came to him, pressed her wet face against his wet shoulder, felt the familiar comfort of his arms come around her. It seemed late, so dark for afternoon. She pressed against him, hearing the wind moan 317.
out of the gray ma.s.s of ocean and felt an excitement that was hard to keep down. She said, ”I've done something else you're not gonna believe,” raising her face to his.
Moran saw her expression, the grin she was trying to hold back. He looked at her with the innocence of a straight man waiting for it and said, ”Are you serious?”
She said, ”Wait till I show you,” and saw his expression change, starting to grin but not sure he wanted to.
Nolen found 84 and turned off the freeway at the peak of his whiskey rush, the glow carrying him along with a feeling of effortless control, gliding in the high excitement of a rainstorm, clouds hanging close enough to touch. (He had come out of the bar with his sungla.s.ses on and thought it was midnight.) Now it was that colorless nothing kind of time, the eye of the storm. He found the New River Ca.n.a.l Road, not another car in sight and kept pressing, riding the wind, the black overcast his cover, until he saw the stand of pines off to the north. He touched the right-hand pocket of his raincoat and felt the hard bulk of the .45. Here we go... turned in and rode the Porsche through pools formed in the ruts, hearing the wake was.h.i.+ng aside, saw the house and two cars in the yard now, the wipers giving him quick glimpses. He rolled to a stop on the off side of the Cadillac and now considered- in spite of the charm he felt-the tricky part. Walking from the car to the house. He felt his mouth dry and wondered why he hadn't brought a bottle with him.
Well f.u.c.k it, he'd gone into houses on the east bank of the Ozama with cotton in his mouth and automatic weapon fire popping away and one place had found beer inside, not cold, but beer all the same and he hadn't gotten even a scratch in anger during that war and was subject to serious gunfire nearly every day and you know why?, because his life was being spared for something big if not fame that would come to him with more money than he could count on a rainy afternoon in Florida. You're G.o.dd.a.m.n right. He got out of the car and walked up to that house . . . saw the door open a crack... hesitated the moment he needed to clear the .45 and kicked the door in with a cowboy boot.
Jiggs sat in an easy chair that faced away from the front windows and the door, so that Nolen came in almost behind him. He saw Jiggs look him up and down, Jiggs just sitting there. Nolen looked past him at the two suitcases lying closed on a round card table. He turned and looked toward the hallway.
”Where's the general?”
”In the bathroom.”
319.
”Still?” Nolen looked at the suitcases again. ”How come you haven't opened 'em?”
<script>