Renegade 33

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Renegade 33 Page 3

by Lou Cameron


  He could see her better now, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Sure enough, she was seated upright against a post with her hands behind her. Her knees were exposed as well as dirty. Her once expensive dress of natural silk was dirty as well, and he was no doubt looking at more of her chest than she was used to showing in public. One shoulder strap was broken, and the only thing that kept that side of her bodice from falling all the way off her left breast was that said breast was big and firm enough to hold the top hem just above her nipple. The view from there up wasn’t bad, either. Teresa Lopez was a little older than he’d expected from the way her grandfather had carried on about her. But she was still on the nice side of thirty, and he admired the way her long black hair framed her heart-shaped face. Her black brows were heavy above her nicely set sloe eyes. She looked too intelligent to be carrying on that way. So he told her, ‘Simmer down and let’s not waste our strength weeping and wailing. If they were going to kill us just for the hell of it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. How long have you been here?’

  ‘Since the night before last. One moment I was sleeping in my own bed, alone, of course, and the next thing I knew, I was here. I think the chocolate I drank just before retiring may have been drugged. You know how treacherous servants can be.’

  ‘I haven’t ever had as many servants as you, I imagine. But I get the picture. Who’s this grandfather of yours who you keep mentioning, señorita?’

  ‘It is señora, por favor. I told you I was a married woman. That is, I used to be. Alas, the brutes took advantage of a poor helpless widow. My grandfather is Don Alberto Montalban, a most important ranchero near the capital with banana interests here in the low country as well. I am sure he will be willing to pay the ransom they demand. I know he has the money. Some of it is mine. When my husband died in a fall from his horse, the courts appointed my grandfather my custodian, of course.’

  Captain Gringo shrugged and answered, ‘Don’t look at me like that. I never wrote the laws down here. Where I come from, dames are allowed to manage their own property. Last I heard, some of them were even demanding the vote.’

  Gaston said, ‘Eh bien, let us not waste time on Latin laws. I could not help noticing, señora, that your très attractive eyes seemed uncertain when you mentioned this distressing ransom business. Do you have reason to doubt that your family wants you back enough to pay for the privilege?’

  Teresa looked away and replied, ‘I thought so, at first. I thought my grandfather loved me. But it has been so long now, and I’ve had so much time to think. I can’t help wondering what would happen to my husband’s estate if ... We had no children, alas, so there are no other heirs but my grandfather and that young puta he married only a year ago, so—’

  ‘The old goat’s married to a hotsy-totsy?’ Captain Gringo began to blurt before he caught himself and added, lamely, ‘Well, we just wouldn’t know about your family matters, señora. I wish to Christ someone would tell us why we were snatched.’

  She said she had no idea. After they’d all talked in circles long enough to call one another by their first names, the bully with the earrings came back to tell them that his boss was ready to talk to them now. The girl said she was thirsty. The big Indio told her to see if she could bend her head far enough to suck her own tits. Then he had the two soldiers of fortune dragged out and marched across the camp to a more luxurious canvas tent.

  Inside, a smoother but no nicer-looking guy wearing Spanish features, a pimp mustache, and a linen riding outfit was seated at a folding table, eating beans and drinking wine. He told the captives to have a seat, and when they said they didn’t see any chairs, he told them they could sit in the mud at his feet. Captain Gringo told him he was all heart but that they preferred to remain standing. So El Jefe had his guards push them down.

  As they sat there with their hands tied he said, ‘That is better. You both appear to be men of common sense. So now you will tell me where my money is, no?’

  Captain Gringo tried to look surprised as he replied, ‘What money are we talking about, and who the fuck are you?’

  Their captor looked annoyed and said, ‘You do not wish to know who I am, señors. There is always an outside chance that you may get out of here alive, if you are very nice to me. So names are not important right now. What is important is that I was to receive a package at the post office in Limón. I did not receive my package. You did. Tell me about it.’

  Captain Gringo laughed incredulously and said, ‘So that was what that was all about! Are we talking about a red paper package, addressed to me?’

  ‘We are. Do you deny you signed for it and walked out of the post office with it, Captain Gringo?’

  Gaston took a chance. The old con artist said, ‘Mais non, it was me. Dick, here, was out when a notice about the delivery was shoved under our mutual door at the posada, and as a person in your line of work may be able to understand, a small gray creature like myself attracts less attention in public. They post disgusting pictures in post offices for some reason.’

  El Jefe snapped, ‘Never mind which one of you picked it up, damn it. You admit you picked it up. So where is it?’

  Gaston shrugged and said, ‘¿Quien sabe? Who keeps last week’s newspaper? I assumed it was a joke. Then some thugs almost as rude as your own snatched it away from me for some reason. I saw no need to fight for old newspapers. So I did not go into it with them.’

  El Jefe closed his eyes as if he were making a saintly effort to control himself. But he didn’t look at all saintly as he said, ‘Now listen carefully. I am a man of few words and many bullets. I know all about the dummy package. I sent it. Then I told someone else to send me a package full of money, wrapped in the same red paper.’

  ‘Addressed to me, for Pete’s sake?’ cut in Captain Gringo with an amused sneer. El Jefe did not look amused as he said, ‘I admit I meant to use you as a ruse. After you picked up the dummy package—and any police watching for whoever picked it up—I meant to have another Captain Gringo pick up the second. I did send a man to pick up the one with the money in it. They told him it had already been picked up. By the person it was addressed to. You. Am I talking too fast for you? Would you like me to speak slower, as my hombres shove a bamboo sliver into the head of your cock and break it inside?’

  It wasn’t hard to look scared. So Captain Gringo did so as he sighed and said, ‘It’s no use, Gaston. We’d better tell the man the truth, right?’

  Gaston shrugged and said, ‘Oui, he does have a most persuasive manner. Shall I tell him or would you rather?’ Captain Gringo knew Gaston had no idea what he planned to say next. So he said, ‘I’ll come clean, Jefe. We picked up both packages. We didn’t know what was in either, of course. We just went separately to the post office, each thinking the other might not, see?’

  ‘I am trying to. Which one of you got the money and for why was it not in your possession when my boys got you?’

  ‘Hell, that’s easy. Like Gaston just told you, some other thugs took both packages away from us. How the hell were we supposed to know they were worth fighting over? Neither one of us was expecting a birthday present, you know.’

  El Jefe shook his head like a bull with a fly between its horns and growled, ‘Now I am really mixed up. For why are you trying to mix me up? Don’t either of you enjoy living?’

  Captain Gringo said, ‘Hey, you think you’re confused? What about us? Some asshole we never heard of sends us mail we couldn’t have been expecting. Then some other assholes take it away from us and you expect us to explain all this bullshit?’

  El Jefe took a deep breath and gave them a breather as he explained what they already really knew from the beginning. When it was his own turn to say something again, Captain Gringo said, ‘Boy, you sure play chess when the name of the game is checkers, El Jefe. Why the hell did you try such a complicated delivery in the first place? Couldn’t you see how many things could go wrong and did? Somebody did have the post office staked, both times. So now so
mebody else has both deliveries, and don’t look at us. By the way, did your guys hurt those girls in our room when they tossed the place?’

  ‘Girls? What girls? Are you trying for to confuse me again?’

  ‘Does anyone have to? You sure have a lot to learn about collecting ransom money, Jefe. You fucked up for sure with those red packages.’

  El Jefe thought about that as he helped himself to more wine. Then he murmured, ‘So you say. But there is one very large hole in your story, Captain Gringo. If you two picked up both packages, and I believe you did, how is it that my hombres found you both alive and at large when they ambushed you at the posada? You say the other side had the post office under observation. Bueno. That was what I feared they might try. You say someone then relieved you of both packages. That I find harder to believe. Even you must see that they would have taken you for my men, no?’

  Captain Gringo nodded and said, ‘I guess they must have. So what?’

  ‘So what? Are you trying for to test my self-restraint? What kind of a fool do you take me for? Do you expect me to believe that men lying in wait for someone accepting the delivery of a ransom demand would simply grab the money and let them go?’

  Gaston snorted with disgust and said, ‘Merde alors, this is all too league of the bush to believe. I thought we were discussing business with a professional criminal. Obviously the real crooks got the money and by now must be très amuse, non?’

  El Jefe eyed him ominously and said, ‘How seriously would you like me to convince you of my criminal intent, you smug little cabrón?’

  Captain Gringo soothed, ‘What he’s trying to explain in his own worldly way is that you’ve been had, Jefe. Let’s take this apple a bite at a time. If we’d picked up anything staked out by the police, they’d have done it one of only two possible ways. They could have arrested us as kidnappers and tried to make us talk. Or they could have decided to follow us and see if we led them to you. How do you like that so far?’

  ‘Keep talking. I never said you’d been picked up by the police. My instructions were not to contact the police.’

  ‘All right. If the police didn’t take both packages and turn us loose, that leaves two gangs who could have, but only one who would have let us go. If your kidnap victim’s family saw us coming out of that post office with their dinero, do you imagine they’d have just grabbed the money and ran? Why the hell send money in the first place if you want it back that bad?’

  El Jefe got the pitch. Or the one Captain Gringo had been praying he would. He gasped, ‘¡Madre de Dios! Don Alberto never would have let you go if he thought you were working with me! I see it all now! Some other ladrones found out about the ransom drop and intercepted it! Oh, is there no honesty to be found in this wicked world!’

  Captain Gringo shook his head and said, ‘Not much. Can we go home now?’

  The outlaw leader looked startled and replied, ‘I wish, you would not make idle jests when I am trying for to think. For why should I set you free, even if I believed you?’

  Captain Gringo answered, ‘Well, nobody’s about to ransom us, and if you’re thinking about recruiting us to help you get the money, forget it. Gaston’s right. You guys don’t know your business, and we don’t work with amateurs.’

  ‘Who said anything about recruiting you, for the love of God? The thought had not even crossed my mind, I assure you!’

  Captain Gringo and Gaston exchanged knowing glances. The little Frenchman murmured, ‘See? What did I tell you?’

  El Jefe frowned down at them and declared, ‘As a matter of fact, I was pondering the best way to dispose of possible witnesses.’

  So Captain Gringo nodded soberly and said, ‘When you’re right, you’re right, Gaston. The guy’s afraid that two wanted men are anxious to march into a police station and say naughty things about him. We don’t know who he is, or shit about the case, but I guess some guys worry a lot. Thank God he gets to worry about recovering the money from that other gang. It figures to be a bitch, now that he’s fucked it all up.’

  El Jefe rose, walked around the table, and kicked Captain Gringo flat before he asked soberly, ‘I would like to hear just how you would go about recovering my dinero, if you are so smart.’

  Captain Gringo stayed down as he replied in a desperately casual tone, ‘I’m not sure I could, this late in the game. Like I said, you fucked it up with all that red-paper razzle-dazzle. The girl’s people think they paid the ransom. So you’ll pay hell getting them to send you another centavo now.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Suppose I sent them her ear, or perhaps a nipple or two to persuade them?’

  ‘That would persuade them that what they’ll already be sweating bullets over must be true, of course. They paid the ransom. You didn’t send her back alive. So about now they’ll be giving her up for dead in any case, and who’s going to pay for parts of a corpse?’

  ‘All right. What do you suggest I do to persuade them?’

  ‘I just said I don’t see how, God damn it. They have you down as a double-crosser. If they don’t see the girl alive, poco tiempo, now that they’ve paid off, they’ll be going to the police any minute and things will get even more complicated. The only way you’ll get that money will be by taking it back from whoever has it right now, and don’t look at us. You know damn well we don’t have it.’

  ‘Bueno. So who does?’

  ‘How the fuck should I know? I just told you they grabbed it and ran. If we’d been in on it with them ... Oh, shit, do we have to keep talking in circles?’

  ‘Sí, we have to keep talking until I discover where my money is.’

  Captain Gringo sat back up and said, ‘Okay, have your apes untie us, and let’s put our heads together.’

  ‘Can you not talk from down there, amigo?’

  ‘Sure, I can talk all you like. But what can I tell you? The only way we can get the money back calls for figuring out who the hell has it! By the way, what’s our share if we help you get it back?’

  ‘Share? What share are you talking about? You two are not members of this organization!’

  ‘No? Well, we’d better be, if we’re going to help you find out who those other crooks are and help you fight ’em. I doubt like hell that they’ll hand over that much dinero without a fight. How much money of ours are they holding, by the way?’

  El Jefe started to answer. Then a look of low cunning crossed his face as he replied, ‘Two thousand, American. That is a lot of money in this part of the world.’

  So Captain Gringo did his best not to sigh with relief. He knew they’d have to go through some more of this bullshit. But if El Jefe wasn’t planning to enlist them and double-cross them, he wouldn’t have lied about the money, right?

  It felt good to be up and around with those itchy ropes off, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. El Jefe had told them not to be silly when they asked for their guns back and told his segundo to keep an eye on them while he checked out a couple of ideas they’d suggested. So the big Indio kept following them around like a dog as they tried to act relaxed. It was apparently all right to help themselves to coffee and beans at the communal campfire. But Gaston said he found it très fatigue that a man could not even take a piss in private these days. It was later than Captain Gringo had thought, no doubt in more ways than one. So the sun was low in what they now knew was the west and, with luck, nobody could get back to Limón and back before morning to louse up the bill of goods they’d semi-sold the suspicious El Jefe. He seemed to be sulking in his tent while he waited to hear more about some nonexistent rogues Gaston had advised him to question first. The only bright spot, so far, was that they could assume that the gang had no sneaks in Don Alberto’s camp. Their razzle-dazzle wouldn’t have worked if, as Teresa suspected, her kidnapping had been an inside job.

  They didn’t tell her that. They didn’t go anywhere near the pretty captive once they’d been given limited freedom of the outlaw camp. El Jefe was still muttering darkly about ears in pickle jars,
and they didn’t want to remind him that she was still around.

  As the sun set the big Indio showed them a lean-to not far from the more elaborate hut the girl was being held in, and told them they could bed down there. When Gaston asked about bedding, the segundo suggested that they snuggle up to keep warm and-wandered off, muttering about all whites being sissies.

  Gaston sat cross-legged on the leaves someone had shoveled under the overhang and lit a smoke, muttering, ‘Sacre God damn, the least they could offer us would be some adelitas, non?’

  Captain Gringo hunkered down beside him as he observed, ‘I don’t think they have enough adelitas to go around. I size this bunch up as part-time banditos. Probably city boys at heart. If they were far from home, they’d have more horses as well as more dames. The newspaper stuffed in that dummy package was a local Limón edition, remember?’

  ‘Oui, El Jefe strikes me as a pimp too. The girl is supposed to remember them as a jungle band. Ergo, they did mean to let her go in the end, non?’

  ‘I’m not too sure El Jefe knows what the fuck he’s doing. He has to be a small-town crook with big-time notions. Those are the kinds you have to worry about. When do you think we’d better make our break for it, this side of moonrise or the other?’

  Gaston sighed and said, ‘I wish you would not say things like that, Dick. Both sound très dangereux. If we run for it by the light of the silvery moon, we are sure to catch some lead with our adorable derrieres. If we run for it in the dark, we are sure to be eaten by crocodiles. We don’t even know which way to run, and the night-feeding creepy crawlies are everywhere in the dark, hein?’

  ‘Yeah. I guess we’d better wait for the moon. I think we’re northwest of Limón. I wouldn’t want to look for it in total darkness.’

  ‘Neither would I. That brings us back to the subject of people with guns, which we seem to lack for some reason. Running gunfights by moonlight are bad enough. I never indulge in them unarmed!’

 

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