by Lex Lander
‘Okay.’ First the stick, now the carrot. ‘If I don’t hear any more from the Tosi mob for a month, come to the Club de Soleil Hotel, off West Tropica and ask for me. You’ll get five grand apiece. Easy money.’
‘Sure,’ the Whippet said enthusiastically and the Sumo roused himself to say, ‘Hey, that’s mighty white of you, mister.’
‘So beat it, and I’ll see you in a month.’
If I were still around Vegas in a month, they would be welcome to their five grand. If I were back where I belonged, well, I guess I would just have to feel bad about scamming them.
To cover all traces of the Tosi gang’s visit we needed to mop the blood off the floor and dump the weaponry.
‘Can you handle the red stuff?’ I said to Maura.
‘I’m not squeamish.’
I grinned at her. ‘Yes, I know.’
Careful not to leave any prints, I loaded the three shotguns and four handguns into the trunk of the Maserati and drove out of the garage. In the parking lot where I left the Beamer, I had spotted a recycling dumpster. Making sure I wasn’t observed, I donated the weaponry to those in need. Bank robbers, for instance.
Back through the quiet streets to Maura’s where she had just finished removing the blood stains.
As she poured the mess down the sink, I came up behind her and put my arms around her waist.
‘Will you ever be able to forgive me?’
She turned on both faucets and let them run. ‘There’s nothing to forgive, Drew.’
‘You know there is. Because of me you’ve been involved in three killings in as many days.’
‘None of which is your fault.’ She twisted around while staying within the enclosure of my arms. ‘You weren’t looking for trouble. In fact you were trying to walk away from it.’
Her eyes – those haunting, luminous eyes – explored mine.
‘That may be so,’ I said, ‘but if you had never met me, none of it would have happened.’
‘Yes, and my life would have gone on as empty as ever. Don’t you understand, you schmuck, you’ve given me hope, and I don’t just mean because of Lindy. Do you know that Jeff and I hadn’t lived together as husband and wife for years before you ... before he died? And after Jeff I was in a man-free existence. A date here and there, that was all. Until you. Now, suddenly, there’s meaning to my life.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. Even so ...’
‘Stop it, will you!’ She placed a finger crosswise on my lips. ‘What happened here tonight should have been abhorrent to me, against all my values. But oddly, I feel it’s bound us closer together. I now understand the difference between killing with justification and killing for profit. I didn’t mean to kill that guy the other night, but I was justified because it’s obvious now he was going to kill you, and likely as not I would have ended up as collateral damage. Same thing tonight. They were going to kill us both.’
Then she sealed her stout defence with a kiss and swept away the last tatters of my doubts. Here was a woman who was prepared to accept me and my bloody past. A past I was trying to renounce but which continued to dog my heels.
‘I told you I’ll quit,’ I said when we came up for air, ‘and I will.’
She stroked my cheek with her fingertips.
‘I know you will. I have faith. I also know it won’t happen overnight. There are parts of your past that’ll rear up and bite you, like this evening. And if ...’ She faltered. ‘I mean if we’re still ... you know ... together, I might get bitten too.’
A wave of humility washed over me.
‘You’re something else, you know that? How can you look so terrific and be so terrific?’
‘Hah! Put me on a pedestal if you must. Just don’t be surprised when I fall off.’
I gave her a hug.
‘You haven’t told me yet, why we couldn’t bring in the police,’ she pointed out.
‘That’s easy. It’s one thing for an upstanding citizen like you’ – here she snorted – ‘to shoot a known hoodlum in self-defence with a licensed gun. It’s something altogether different for me to pop off two guys from the same outfit, two days later, with an illegal gun. Don’t forget I’m here under a false identity, using fake documents. They would hold me for sure pending investigations, and my cover would be blown inside twenty-four hours.
‘I see where you’re coming from. Well, I suppose dead is dead. It wouldn’t revive them if you did report it to the police, and I surely don’t want you locked up for an indefinite period.’ She frowned prettily. ‘That reminds me – how did that pistol get behind my cushion?’
Instead of answering, I kissed her long and fiercely. She didn’t ask again.
To put a seal on our budding amour all that remained was to spend the night together. In the aftermath of the double killing, I discerned a fragility in her that the Warner of old would have exploited to the hilt. For once though, I drew back from the precipice that led to a joining of the flesh. When I finally made love to Maura Beck it wouldn’t be in an ambience of violence, spilled blood, and ugliness.
What I felt for her at this stage in the game fell short of love. But it wasn’t only lust either, though there was abundance of that and some left over. Maybe ... maybe I needed to prove to myself that it was more than just her physical desirability that attracted me, that the sexual pull wasn’t the priority that usually drove my entanglements with women. In my emotional backyard, something was going on that I couldn’t yet put a finger on.
Another restless night. Another sunny morning. The Las Vegas weather was on the up and up, and the hotel staff seemed infected by it with their cheery ‘good mornings’ and more exhortations to have a nice day than I was accustomed to. I was even starting to wish them back.
My nice day was spoiled when I left the breakfast lounge, replete with wholesome American fare, and entered the lobby. The person responsible was my new friend, Detective First Grade Gratrix. In his usual crumpled detective-grey suit, looking as if he had slept in it.
‘Hey, Mr Freeman,’ he called out, rising from the couch where he was reclining.
At least I was back to being “Mr”.
‘Detective,’ I said cautiously. Even with my title restored, I couldn’t believe he was here to put a stamp of approval on my activities. One positive point – no Rozon.
‘Sit down, will you? Couple of things I need to go over with you.’
My groan was silent but no less heartfelt. I sat in a lounge chair at right angles to him and tried to adopt the air of an upstanding American citizen.
‘We’ve run into a problem with your driving permit,’ he said.
This came as no surprise. These days, with computer processing, fake IDs could be cracked sooner or later.
‘It hasn’t expired, has it?’
He chuckled. ‘I think you know the problem has nothing to do with expiry dates.’
Mystifying my expression, I crossed my legs, and raised a hand to return the salute of the hotel deputy manager who was passing by.
‘Let’s just say I need to verify your passport,’ Gratrix went on. ‘Do you have it on you?’
‘It’s in my room,’ I said with sinking heart. Checks on my passport might gain me another twenty four hours, no more than that. My ID was on the verge of being blown.
Gratrix drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch.
‘It’s like this. You can either fetch your passport and we’ll run it through the sausage machine. You know for sure, and I’m almost certain, it will come up as bogus.’ He wriggled an eyebrow at me, inviting me to confirm it. I declined.
‘You said “either”,’ I said instead. ‘So there’s an alternative.’
‘Uh-huh. We can assume you’re not American, but probably either Canadian or British. Or Australian, or a New Zealander, or at a pinch South African. It doesn’t really matter a fuck one way or the other. We’ll declare you persona non grata, and assist you in flying out of Vegas, out of the USA, back to whatever slimy hole you crawl
ed out of.’
‘Now, now, Detective,’ I chided. ‘You’ve been very polite so far, don’t spoil it.’
‘If I could pin something more substantial on you than using forged documents, I’d do it, believe me. But there’s too much other stuff fucking up my city. I can’t spare the time to piss about with money launderers like you.’
So that was what he thought I was. It was safer than the reality.
‘So you aim to deport me, is that right?’
‘Easier for all concerned. But there is a condition.’
I recrossed my legs and tried to read his mind. I was unsuccessful. A fat woman, in a pink dress that was made for a thin woman, crossed the lobby in front of me, dragging a matching pink valise big enough to hold her and a couple of dogs. She was grunting with the effort. Any gentleman would have offered assistance. None did.
‘We want everything you’ve dug up about the Heiders. You’ve been hanging about with the Beck broad for a week now. Don’t tell me she hasn’t let you in on a few secrets.’
I would need to choose my words with care if Gratrix wasn’t to exchange deportation for incarceration.
‘The Heiders are nothing to me. If I had any information about their rackets, you’d be welcome to it. As for Maura, we never discussed the business side.’ I treated him to a man-to-man grin. ‘We had other priorities.’
But Gratrix wasn’t born yesterday. Or even last week.
‘You don’t say. Suppose I don’t believe you?’
‘If you don’t, it doesn’t change anything. Do you think I’d let you lock me up trying to save the Heiders?’ My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. It was on silent mode, so Gratrix wasn’t aware of it. It could only be Maura. ‘The only thing I can give you that might be of use, or at least save you some manpower is this: Maura Beck is strictly on the right side of the law. She’s not involved in the criminal stuff, not even to the extent of laundering their money through the casino. Don’t waste your energy on her.’
I didn’t expect him to take my word for it, but surprisingly he didn’t scorn my reading of Maura. He produced his note book and jotted in it.
‘If you’re right, that would be good news in a way, as it’d close one of the trails we were following. All I can say at this moment in time is we’ll keep it in mind.’ He closed the notebook and fixed his cop stare on me again.
‘What else?’
‘There is no what else, Detective. I told you.’
Now for the handcuffs and the ride downtown.
‘All right, Freeman or whoever you are. I’m going to leave it at that. Getting you out of my hair will already make my day, punk.’ He rose stiffly, flexed his knees. ‘You have twenty-four hours to quit town, and the USA. We’ll be watching you, so don’t think you can avoid it.’
‘All right. I’ll play it straight.’
‘Be sure you do. If you want to give the Beck broad a goodbye fuck, that’s fine with us. Don’t oversleep though. You could wake up inside four grey walls.’
‘Don’t you paint them these days?’
He wasn’t amused. Again.
‘Your sense of humour will land you in deep doo-doo, one of these days. Just be out of here this time tomorrow. When you get home, burn that phoney passport, because if you ever try to enter the US with it again, you’ll never get past immigration control.’
It struck me after he left that he didn’t ask my real name. He may have thought it was pointless, as it couldn’t be checked. Even if he’d torn my luggage apart he would only have found the Henley passport, and been no further forward.
I made the decision to leave that day, rather than hang around until my reprieve expired. First though, Maura had to be tipped off. When I phoned I got her answering service. I apologized for missing her call, and asked her to get back to me as soon as.
If it hadn’t been for Maura, and my obligations towards her, leaving the USA would have been no hardship. As it was, I would have to return soon, with the additional hazard of being here illegally and therefore liable to arrest.
Logistical issues included a safe haven for the Ruger. Maura’s place was the obvious choice. It would turn her into a lawbreaker, so she might refuse. In which case the gun would have to be dumped. Inconvenient, but not catastrophic. Second priority, a safe haven for me. Hunkering down at her house was one option, but increased the risk to her. Another alternative was staying out of town while I/we formulated a plan to rescue Belinda.
Another aspect to be addressed was Silvano Tosi’s confession, still locked in my room safe. Could it be used to gain an advantage over, or concession from the Heiders? I didn’t see how, but I needed to bounce the idea off Maura.
It was early afternoon before she returned my call.
‘Sorry, Drew,’ she said, and just the sound of her voice was enough to stir my red corpuscles. ‘I was in a meeting, and it dragged on. That’s why I called you, to let you know.’
‘I was in a sort of meeting myself, when you rang. We need to talk, and it can’t wait long.’
It could wait until the evening though, and I arranged to be at her house at six.
The rest of the day, I spent packing and booking a flight to Mexico City. I could have opted for a city by the US border, but Gratrix was bound to check, and a flight bound for Tijuana or Mexicali was bound to make him suspect my intentions, and potentially compromise my re-entry as Jack Henley. Over a Budweiser in the hotel bar, I chewed over the options. After landing at Mexico City, I could rent a car in the name of Henley, drive to the border, walk across, and rent another car in the USA. No, that wouldn’t cut it. Gratrix had a photo of me, taken after the shooting of Cesare Tosi. If he set up a control at the border, I would be picked up if I tried to cross. It was a risk that couldn’t be circumvented as far as I could see.
Unless I didn’t cross the border at all. Unless I drove to Tijuana and bought a seat on a boat.
EIGHTEEN
Maura took the prospect of playing gun-sitter in her stride.
‘Jeff built a safe in a hidden compartment in the basement. Even if you knew it was there, you wouldn’t be able to access it without the command zapper and the code.
So that was settled. Maura knew about guns, how to use them, and how necessary they would be if we were to take on the Heiders. We sure as hell couldn’t do it with our fists.
‘Are you worried the police might search your room?’ she asked.
Then I explained about the deportation order. Her face fell.
‘You’re leaving the country.’ The full impact penetrated deeper. ‘You’re leaving me?’
‘Not a chance,’ I said, and pulled her to me to quell any doubt. Emerging from our clinch a while later, I explained how I would re-enter the States.
‘So you would come ashore in San Diego?’
‘A bit farther north. Someplace remote.’
‘Then what?’ Lines of anxiety marred her loveliness. Not by much though.
‘Then we find a place for me to hole up, away from the snooping eyes of the LVPD, and you join me there as often as you can, while I put together a scheme for getting Lindy back to her mother.’
‘Oh, Drew ...’ She burrowed into me, making little incoherent sounds.
‘It’ll all work out. Have faith.’
‘I want us to make love,’ she said in a voice so subdued I wasn’t even sure I’d heard aright.
But I had. There it was. Gift wrapped, the package delivered to my door. All I had to do was sign for it. Yet still I held back. Still the red STOP sign was vivid in my mind’s eye. The good side of me wanted this woman to be so much more to me than the all the Simones and the passing lust affairs that had pervaded my life since Marion ceased to be a part of it. If I could prove to myself that I could value Maura so highly without possessing her physically, it might mean she really was a worthy replacement. Not only that, it would prove that I was worthy of her love and the huge amount of trust she was placing in me.
I want us to make love.
/> Contrast that with Simone’s ‘I want you to fuck me like a crazy man.’
The trouble was I wanted to fuck Maura like a crazy man too.
In the invisible struggle between strength and weakness of character, strength won, if only by the narrowest of margins.
‘So do I, my love, so do I,’ I said, and it came out as a visceral groan. ‘But I owe it to you to wait until we’ve cleared all the crap out of our lives. The Heiders, the police, the killing ... When it’s done and we’re home free, when Lindy’s home where she belongs, when I’ve washed the last of the blood off my hands, then we’ll make love non-stop for as often as we both can stand it.’
She was so perceptive that I swear she understood right away that it was the opposite of rejection. That it was the fount from which true love springs.
‘I feel humble,’ she said, and straightaway I felt the same.
‘If only you knew me better, you’d know how unlike me it is to relegate my physical needs to the back burner. Then you’d realize how important you’re becoming to me.’
‘Don’t worry, darling. Now I do realize. I really do.’
She waved me off at McCarran Airport, on the 23.30 Delta flight to Mexico City. Her eyes were moist, but no tears materialized. The steel core wasn’t ready to melt yet.
‘Hurry back,’ was her parting entreaty.
‘You bet.’
‘You will come back, won’t you? You promise.’
‘Hey, what is this? Yes, I promise. Why do you think I left my valise with you?’
That was meant as a joke. She took it at face value.
‘Okay.’ The little lines of worry were wiped from her forehead. ‘I’ll let you go then.’
We punctuated our goodbyes with a kiss, and she let me go.
Smelly bustling Mexico City airport. It seemed as if the whole world had converged on it even in the early hours of the day. Finding a flight to Tijuana was easy enough. It was due to leave at 10.15am; it actually left at 11.25 and landed at 1.10pm Pacific Standard Time.
Tijuana itself, hard up against the US border, was a bit seedy, a bit grubby, and seething with overpopulation. Five years before I had passed through on the trail of a drug baron, missing him by a few hours, and being forced to stay overnight at a hotel – the Leon Rojo, close to the beach.