A Touch of Danger

by James Jones

“Well, how long does it take them to process the stuff, once they’ve got it here?” I didn’t want to tell her I’d seen them bring it in last night.

  “They can do it very fast,” Chantal said. “If they really work at it. I don’t actually know. Why? You’re not thinking of trying to catch them?”

  “Me? No. I’m no narcotics man,” I said. “The only thing I’m after is that killer.”

  “That girl certainly did something to you,” she said. Her voice sounded plaintive. “I wish I could do something like that to you.”

  Get yourself killed, I thought grimly, and you can.

  “Well, you can rest assured Jim is not the person you want,” Chantal said. “That I can assure you. I know he would never do something like that.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” I said. “Listen, you lied to me again last night.”

  “I did? I lied to you?”

  “Yes. Something about Kronitis. I didn’t understand what. But I noticed it.”

  There was a pause. “Well, I see no reason why I should have to tell you everything, if I don’t want to. You don’t work for me any more, remember?”

  “Do they have a phone out there?” I said patiently.

  “No. There are no telephones in outlying houses that far from town. Why?”

  “But Kronitis has a phone.”

  “I’m not planning on calling him today, if that’s what you mean,” Chantal said.

  “Good,” I said. “Don’t. Look. The real reason I called you was to tell you I dreamt about you last night.”

  “Oh?” her voice got slower. “What kind of dream?”

  “It was a silly dream,” I said. “You were going to jail.”

  “And you couldn’t help me?” she said.

  “Look, if you want out of this thing, I’ll find some way to get you out,” I said. “If you really want out of it, I’ll get you out of it. For good.”

  “Well,” she said thoughtfully. She drew the Well out. “How would you do that?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I’ll do it.”

  “I would like out of it,” Chantal said.

  “Okay. That’s all I called about. Look. I’ll talk to you later in the day. I’ve got to go somewhere. Try and keep your mouth shut about all this stuff. Try.”

  “It would do me no good anywhere to talk about it, that I can see.”

  “Fine. I’ll call you later. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, darling.”

  I hung up. That Darling wasn’t the sincerest Darling I’d ever had thrown at me. But then I remembered I had received no call from Pekouris in Athens, about the news of Chuck and his machete which I had planted with her, and with Kirk. That meant neither of them had called it in to Kronitis. Or did it? That Pekouris was such a slippery character.

  I went back out on my porch and sat down. I wanted a drink. But I wouldn’t let myself have it.

  I killed another hour over lunch at the taverna. I didn’t eat much. I trained on Scotches, but only a couple that I sipped, making them last a long time. Red wine was no good. It slowed up the reflexes. Scotch could heighten the reflexes, if you took only a little, and didn’t take it too long before.

  After lunch I figured it was time. I had a second coffee. Then I went and got Sonny.

  I had told him to stay around, that I would be wanting him, and he was down by the boat, squatting in the dirt in the hot sun and talking to several of the old Greek men who sat all day in chairs out in front of the taverna playing with their Greek beads. Watch out for the beads, some Greek my own age I had met had warned me, laughing; when you buy the beads that means you are old. You sit in front of the taverna and play with the beads, you are old man.

  Sonny and the old men were laughing. It was a sleepy, sun-lazy summer afternoon; people were still drinking their after-lunch wine at the taverna tables.

  I took Sonny on board the Daisy Mae, and took him back to the stern where nobody could overhear us.

  “I’m going over to that villa to pick up Jim Kirk,” I told him, very slowly. “I’d like for you to go with me. We know he’s there. I’m going to perform a citizen’s arrest on him, or whatever they call it in Greece. But I’m going to need somebody to help me.”

  The deep wrinkles around his eyes squinched up at me, and the thick Elliot Gould mustache twitched.

  “Won’t Kirk be on his guard, over there?”

  “Well, I think I’ve done something that will help keep him occupied,” I said.

  “There’s two other men there, though,” Sonny said.

  I nodded. “I think I can get them locked up in that cellar. If it all works out like I’m hoping. But maybe it won’t,” I said, very slowly. I didn’t want to get him all excited. I didn’t want to get myself excited. I looked at him.

  Sonny only nodded, warily.

  “I know you’re a stupid ass,” I said slowly, “and can hardly find your way out of a paper bag. I know you’re supposed to hate violence. But I’ve no one else to turn to. And I want someone to cover me. I’ll do all the dangerous work. At least, as much as I can.”

  Sonny stared at me a long moment. “You’re taking him in for the heroin?”

  I nodded.

  “Or for the killing of Girgis?”

  “That, too. I’m convinced he did it. I have been for quite a while. And now I’ve got proof that he did. I’ve been getting surer and surer that this kid Chuck didn’t do it. Now, do you want to go, or don’t you? If not, give me the goddamned keys and I’ll go alone.”

  I thought I had him figured right. He didn’t even answer. For answer, he turned his back and went to the motor hatch and started the motor.

  I went forward to cast us off.

  After we rounded the little lighthouse, and passed the low roofs of Georgio’s taverna on our right, I ordered Sonny to stop the boat along a deserted stretch of the coast. We were maybe a quarter of a mile out.

  I went below and got the little satchel and brought it up and opened it, and handed him one of the guns.

  “Now, do you know how to handle one of those things? I don’t want you to shoot yourself in the belly or blow off your foot.” I stuck the other one in my belt.

  He took it, and looked at it. It was a standard snub-nosed .38 Police Special, the twin of mine.

  “Well, I learned how to use a gun in the ROTC in school, but in principle I am very much against the use of firearms,” Sonny said stiffly.

  “Well, this may very well be a case of your ass or Kirk’s,” I snarled. “And using an Army rifle in the ROTC is a whole lot different from shooting a pistol.”

  “I fired the .45.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Well, I’ve shot a few other pistols. For fun. On a range.”

  I looked around. I grabbed up an empty 5 gallon gas can that was sitting by the motor hatch, and tossed it out over the side maybe six or seven yards. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one,” I said. “Here. Let’s see you take a shot at that.”

  Sonny looked at the little gun again, then leveled it and sighted a long moment, then fired. The slug hit the can at the water line, and there was a “Plowww!” from the water. The gas can began to sink. Actually, it wasn’t at all bad.

  “All right,” I said, and nodded. “That’s not too bad. It’ll have to do. Okay, let’s get on with it. Here, give me the gun and I’ll slip another round in it.” I took it while he started the motor and turned into the shade and slid another shell in it and gave it back to him.

  “What about reloading?” Sonny said.

  “Don’t worry,” I grinned. “If you get to where you have to do any reloading, it will already be far far too late.”

  He stared at me.

  “Don’t get nervous,” I said. “I’m hoping we won’t have to use these things at all. It’s only a precaution, really. Here, give me the helm. Let me run it the rest of the way in.”

  Chapter 56

  IN A WHILE WE ROUNDED the last point before the villa and I started bringing u
s closer in. I came in as close as I dared. Only a few yards from us now, the sea swell heaved and dropped and smacked ponderously against the rocks. We were close in enough to catch some of the spray.

  “I’m going to run her straight in,” I told Sonny as I jockeyed the boat. “I’m counting on the fact that nobody will be down at the cove. The launch from Agoraphobe is at the harbor. The two guys are going to be working down in the lab in the cellar. Kirk wouldn’t go down to the cove anyway.”

  I was beginning to get my combative feeling. There was a battening-down process that came with any competitive physical event. It was the feeling a player got before a game. Or a fighter before a fight. Or a pianist before a recital. Wherever something important was at stake. All your sensories got screwed down tight and hard, into concentrated essences.

  The feeling was more than mildly unpleasant. But the excitement vivified you more than the unpleasantness made you suffer. It could get to be like dope. Unless you had an iron will. I wanted to whistle.

  Right then, I wouldn’t have traded my profession for anybody else’s on earth. I was going to get my killer. Sure as anything.

  Where we were they could not possibly see us from the villa on the bluff. I was sure they couldn’t hear us, either. And at this time of day the wind was blowing toward us from the northwest, in addition.

  At the narrow entrance I made the sharp turn, and cut my motor immediately as soon as I was around. We glided in in silence.

  There was nobody there. As I’d predicted. Silence surrounded us like cotton wool. Outside, the sea still hammered faintly at the rocks. Up the bluff a couple of birds sang. The Polaris lay moored at one of the docks. Her bumpers squeaked against her hull. The water lapped against her.

  “Grab her rail,” I called in a low voice as we drifted to her. Sonny grabbed, and at the stern I grabbed. We made fast to her and then sneaked out over her to the concrete dock.

  I motioned Sonny to come on to the long staircase up.

  “Now don’t shoot me in the ass with that thing,” I muttered.

  Once we were on the long staircase, we went up it fast. We made no noise in the sneakers I’d had us wear. I paused at the top. Nothing moved. Nothing was visible. The villa seemed deserted, if anything. We crossed the patio at a slow run.

  When we were safe against a wall, I told Sonny to wait there, and went around to the back where the outdoor cellar was. I listened down the slanting stairs. I could hear the two men working and talking. A faint odor of heat came up. Silently I closed and barred the double doors. I waited a moment to make sure they hadn’t heard, then sneaked back around to Sonny.

  Nothing had moved. Nothing had stirred. Inside, or out. The high French doors of the villa were not only unlocked. They were wide open to the afternoon breeze. I motioned Sonny to stand by the door.

  “You cover me from behind,” I said in a low voice. “I don’t know where he’ll be. But for God’s sake don’t shoot that thing in my direction. Don’t shoot it at all unless you absolutely have to. If you have to shoot somebody, shoot them in the leg.”

  I slid over to the open door and leaned against the wall beside the sill. While I gathered myself, I realized momentarily that I was enjoying myself immensely. I was loving every second.

  I moved my head and winked at Sonny, and came out from behind the wall and put a foot over the sill. I went in in a crouch.

  It was a lovely old villa, both outside and in, if a little run down. It was built like they built them at the turn of the century, when they still believed in things lasting. When planned obsolescence was not a concept. The big front room had tall French doors, and high windows above them, on the three sides that faced the sea. The old-looking curtains were blowing in the sea breeze like loose sails. The fourth wall, equally high, had a balcony that ran across it and gave access to some rooms, the bedrooms I guessed.

  Around the corner of the main room was a pantry, I moved a step so I could see around the corner. Deep in the pantry Jim Kirk was standing before a refrigerator, concentratedly drinking a bottle of beer. The funny thing was he was in his underwear, and his socks.

  The underwear was some kind of fancy flowered boxer shorts. The socks were ordinary sweat socks but they sagged badly. He had no shirt on. Also, his hair was rumpled. Beside him on a plastic tray were two more bottles fresh from the icebox with moisture beaded on them in the heat, and two glasses that looked like they’d been chilled in the icebox too. Kirk looked as if he had just gotten out of bed upstairs with Jane Duval, and had come down to get them some refreshment before going back.

  Also on the tray was a large Smith & Wesson revolver. I guessed, because he had no place else on him to carry it.

  I didn’t know why, being an old sea captain, he was in his socks. You would have thought he’d be used to going barefoot on deck. But maybe he always went to bed with ladies in his socks. I didn’t know very much about him, really.

  He was so concentratedly drinking his beer he had no idea I was there. But then I could be pretty quiet, when I had to.

  “Okay, Kirk,” I said. “Finish your beer. But then turn this way and come out of there with your hands on your head. Whatever you do, don’t touch that tray.”

  He stopped swallowing and slowly untilted the bottle. He turned his head. He set the bottle on top of the refrigerator. “What the hell?” he said. But he came out with his hands laced on his head.

  “All right, Sonny,” I said. “Come on in.”

  I listened to his footsteps coming in. He certainly wasn’t as quiet as me. “Keep your gun on him,” I said.

  “What the hell is this?” Kirk said.

  “Where’s Jane?” I said.

  “She’s upstairs. Now, what do you want?” He grinned. “You didn’t have to come with a gun. And what’s he doing here?”

  He was no panicker, Kirk. He was an old hand. He had probably had guns pulled on him a lot more than once. But this time he had a right to look puzzled. Because, this time at least, I knew he was innocent.

  I didn’t answer his question. “You better call her down,” I said.

  “Fine,” Kirk said. He bellowed. “Jane!”

  From upstairs there was no answer, no movement.

  “I’m sorry about this part, Sonny,” I said. “But I had to do something to keep him occupied. It was the only way I could think of.”

  Sonny didn’t say anything. “You sent Jane over here?” he said after a minute.

  “It was the only thing I could think of to do,” I said.

  “You son of a bitch,” Sonny said.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “But what the hell? You knew she was sleeping with Kirk ever since she got back from Athens. Didn’t you? If you didn’t, you’re pretty dumb. I thought you condoned it.”

  Sonny’s ears turned slowly red.

  “I put up with it,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I liked it.”

  “Well. I’m sorry. It can’t be helped,” I said. “We better get on with this. Jane!” I bellowed, myself. No answer from upstairs. She had to be hearing us. “Here,” I said to Sonny, “you’ve got your gun? You keep him covered while I collect that cannon of his.”

  “Say, I want to know what the hell is going on here,” Kirk said, as I started past him. He still had his hands on his head. I picked up the gun. “If you think you’re moving in here to break up this operation we’ve got going, you better think about it. I warned you, Davies. You’re messing around with things you don’t know anything about. You’ve been lucky up to now. Because certain important people have protected you. If they hadn’t, you’d be dead already. But they’re going to take a very dim view of this.”

  “Shut up,” I said. I took a look around the pantry, and in the kitchen. I didn’t see any cellar stairs. I came back in front of Kirk. “So certain people are protecting me, hunh? Who?”

  “You’ll find out. Soon enough,” Kirk said. “After this mess.”

  “Shut up,” I said again. “All I want to know from
you is if there’s an inside cellar stairs in this place.”

  He gave me a look. If he was hoping for help from the cellar, he knew now it wasn’t coming. It showed on his face, and was the answer I wanted. I grinned. “Yeah. They’re all locked up nice and tight,” I said. “Now, you want to know what’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. I’m taking you in for the murders of Girgis and the girl Marie. That’s what’s going on, old buddy.”

  “You’re what!” His big face expressed total disbelief.

  “That’s it. There’s no question in my mind. You killed Girgis to have all this heroin trade to yourself, and then had to kill Marie because she knew you’d done it.”

  “You must be off your rocker,” Kirk said disbelievingly.

  “There’s nothing personal in it,” I said, and grinned. “We’re not here because we dislike you. Are we, Sonny?” I looked over at him. Then back at Kirk. “What’s more, I’m taking Jane Duval in as an accomplice. Or at least, an accessory after the fact. Now call the broad down.” I leaned heavy on the Broad.

  “You’re crazy,” Kirk said with his mouth open. “You’re really crazy.”

  “Go on,” I said. “Call her down here. Or I’ll go up there and drag her down.”

  Behind me I heard Sonny curse.

  “Oh, Christ,” Kirk said under his breath. Then he bellowed. “Jane! Come down here! You better come down here, damn it!”

  There was a kind of pause everywhere, it seemed, for a moment. It seemed to me even the breeze stopped blowing the curtains, but I was sure it didn’t. Then a door creaked upstairs, and Jane Duval came out. All three of us looked up at her. She was clad only in a towel she had wrapped around her. It was a short towel and it didn’t hide much except her nipples and her navel. And we were looking up at her. I felt like hollering “Beaver!” but refrained. She came clear out to the balcony railing and she had a big broad sexy smile on her face. A fake one. I guessed for the first time since I’d met her anyway, she wasn’t looking superior and self-confident. I was rather pleased.

  “Sonny!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  Behind me Sonny cursed again.

  “You better step back, honey, you’re exposing your secrets,” I said. I hardened my voice. “Then you better put something on, it’s breezy, and come down here. Because we’ve got something serious to talk about.”