by Jay Bennett
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Eddie leaned over the wooden railing and watched the Seminole Indian wrestle with the alligator. The day was starting to fade away and the rays of the sun were now low and slanting. Overhead, the sky was beginning to flush with a faint sweep of redness. The fringed leaves of the palmetto trees rustled gently.
He looked at his watch and thought of the coming darkness.
Quarter past six.
And no Mia.
Eddie cursed softly and watched, as if from a great distance, the copper face of the Indian and the long grotesque jaws of the alligator. It was the last show of the day and there were only a few people standing at the railing of the enclosure. Behind were the dingy thatched houses of the little village, and from them came the smell of burning wood and the scent of frying bananas.
A nickel and dime act, Eddie thought. A guy goes and puts his life on the line for nickels and dimes. And what the hell is different between him and me? Didn’t I do the same? Sure, it wasn’t for nickels and dimes, but the way it all ended up it was nickels and dimes. And guys get killed in the ring just the same as these fellows do. Joey Alean. Got hit and never stood up again. The way he lay there that’s the way they buried him. So what’s the difference?
The alligator swung free and lashed his huge tail. The Indian backed away, his small body tight. He moved in again, suddenly lunged, and locked his arms about the alligator, his back muscles rippling against the blue cloth of his workshirt.
The alligator snorted. The primeval sound slowly vanished.
“Do you think he’ll win?” the hard metallic voice said.
Eddie turned sharply and looked into the cold face of Mr. Ferer.
A tremor went through Eddie. “What do you want?” he said.
“Nadar.”
He wore a Panama hat and a dark blue tropical worsted suit. He leaned his tall, whiplike body against the railing and watched the contest. His profile was sharp in the dying light. Beyond him, among the rustling palmetto trees, stood the figures of Mateo and Juan.
A setup, Eddie said bitterly to himself. A setup.
“Doran.”
Eddie waited.
“We’ve lost your friend.”
“Al?”
“Al.”
Eddie was silent.
“About two hours ago. Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Ferer’s nostrils quivered. The thin, bloodless lips hardened. Ferer didn’t speak. He took out a pack of cigarettes and silently offered Eddie one. Eddie shook his head. Ferer lit his cigarette and inhaled. The smoke streamed through the thin nostrils and curled away into the glowing air.
Before them, the struggle continued. Little spots of dark sweat showed through the blue of the shirt. The alligator’s teeth flashed and snapped shut but the Indian swung clear of them.
There was a smattering of applause.
“An elusive man,” Ferer murmured.
“Fast on his feet,” Eddie said involuntarily.
Ferer nodded. “A fighter can appreciate that.” He rested his long narrow hand upon the railing. “Your friend is also fast on his feet. And with his mind.”
Ferer’s lips pressed together into a cruel line. “It’s quite a mind, isn’t it?” He tapped Eddie’s sleeve with one of his long fingers. “But in the end it won’t help him. Nor you.”
“I don’t know where he is, or what he’s doing,” Eddie said. “I left him in downtown Miami, hours ago. What do you want from me?”
“You know what he’s doing.”
“I tell you I don’t.”
The alligator was now on its back. The Indian stepped away quickly, stooped and picked up some sparkling sand. Then he knelt and started rubbing the sand up and down over the alligator’s long belly.
“Doran.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re lying.”
“I don’t sit in Al’s skull,” Eddie said fiercely.
Ferer dropped his cigarette and slowly ground it dead with his heel. His eyes snapped at Eddie, but he didn’t speak.
The alligator seemed asleep. The Indian stepped lightly away and looked up at the circle of faces. His dark eyes glowed with triumph, the nostrils of his straight nose quivered.
Ferer took a half dollar from his pocket and tossed it to the Indian. He caught it deftly in his brown hand, then turned to get the other coins that were being thrown down. They flashed and fell in the red sun.
“He won.”
The hulking shadow of Juan fell across Eddie. Then the angular one of Mateo. They stood near him, their dark faces cold as bronze.
“You found a hundred thousand dollars,” Ferer said. “The money is not what you think it is.”
The alligator was back on its feet again. It moved slowly to the little pond and slowly into it, sending ripples over the stagnant water. The Indian was gone from the enclosure.
The little group of spectators filtered away.
Till Eddie was alone.
With them.
“It is not numbers money.”
The sky was now a fierce red above them. Their faces had a pink glow. The air was still about them.
“It was given by people to help free their brothers in another country. One that is south of here. The man with the brief case was bringing the money to me. I was to see to it that it got into the right hands.”
Ferer paused. And Eddie thought he saw a mocking look come into his eyes and then vanish.
The face became inscrutable. “Do you know how we found you?”
“How?”
“The case. It was seen by one of our men at the airport. Just after you made your call to me. The little golden head. It is the head of Simon Bolivar, the great liberator. We use it as our emblem.”
He straightened to his full height.
“We are many, Doran. There is no escape from us.”
The sky began to turn dark. The shadows of the three Spaniards bunched together like a huge hawk.
“We are cruel people. In war there is no choice. Others have been just as cruel to us. My wife and daughter were killed before my eyes.”
His voice rose. “Do you understand us better now?”
“I don’t know where Al is.”
“You lie.”
Ferer slapped him savagely across the mouth. The sound rang through the stillness, and Eddie felt the knife blade at his back, its point ready to plunge through.
“We’ll take you to a beach, Doran. A lonely one.”
The darkness came down upon them with the suddenness of a fist.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When they started the fire he broke loose from them and began to hit about him with a maniacal fury. His fists found Juan’s fleshy face and pounded into it again and again. His knuckles felt the snap and break of teeth and the warm spill of blood over them.
But then Mateo slammed the barrel of his gun against the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie staggered and fell forward, unconscious.
When he came to, he was lying on the beach, the smell and heat of the fire close to him. He tried to move, but they had tied him down.
He lay spread-eagled on his back. Arms and legs wide apart.
He was stark naked.
A wind ran across the wide beach, spraying up the sand. Some of it got into Eddie’s mouth and eyes.
He coughed.
“Doran.”
Ferer’s visage was ghastly in the firelight. Beyond it were the distorted faces of the others. Distorted by the wild lights and shadows of the fire. They looked like the night figures of one of Goya’s dark and powerful paintings.
“Doran.”
Eddie turned his head away to the black emptiness of the night. Then he heard Ferer’s voice close to him.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“I see,” Ferer said curtly.
Mateo came over to Eddie, a piece of driftwood flaring in his hand. He held it close to Eddie’s chest. The fire began sing
eing the hairs.
“Well, Doran?”
Eddie shut his lips tight and gritted his teeth. When the fire hit into his chest it tore open his lips.
“God!”
He groaned again and again. He sought the sweep of the night sky, as if that would cool away his pain.
“What is Walker planning?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie groaned. “I don’t know.”
And as he said that a fierce rage welled up in him. At their cruelty to him.
The brand was pressed again to Eddie’s skin and he cried out, swinging his head from side to side.
“Doran.”
“Ask him. Don’t ask me. Find him and ask him.”
A bitter smile came to Ferer’s lips. “We’ll find him. And we’ll work him over. But it will gain us nothing. I’ve dealt with his kind too often.”
“I’m the same as him. The same.”
“You’re not the same.”
And this time the fire bit in at the pit of his stomach. And with the searing pain a great fear arose.
“Doran, you fool. We know Walker has the money. We’ve been watching the bank all afternoon.”
The wind blew the sand, the fire sputtered and crackled. The faces and figures wavered.
“He’s got the key,” Eddie cried out. “The money’s in his name. You know all that. Why burn my guts out?”
“His plans,” Ferer said relentlessly.
The fire burnt in, this time close to Eddie’s groin. He cried out, his voice breaking against the wall of darkness.
“He doesn’t want to give back the money. That’s all I know. That’s all. Goddam you, that’s all!”
“Then you’ll get him to return it.”
“How? How?”
“You’re the only one who can.”
“I can’t.”
“You will. One way or another. You’ll convince him or you’ll betray him. One way or the other. Is that clear to you?”
He turned his head and nodded curtly. Mateo came over to Eddie and knelt by him. There was the flash of a knife blade. Then Eddie felt the point touch him.
The touch was worse than the searing fire. Because of the terror it brought to Eddie’s being.
“You will,” Ferer said. “Or you’ll stop being a man.”
“Ahora,” Mateo said. “Lo hago ahora”
Ferer shook his head. “I want that money tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock. If it is not there then, we’ll come for you.”
The knife pressed in.
“And you’ll go on the rest of your life wishing every minute of it that you were dead.”
The sweat kept running down Eddie’s face.
“Ten o’clock, Doran.”
They cut the cords.
“The Lorraine.”
They left him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
He stood in the small foyer, studying the names on the mail boxes until he saw hers. He put his thick finger to the pearl button that was underneath the name plate and pressed hard. Then he went up the carpeted stairs, his hand gliding along the bronze railing.
When he came to the top of the staircase, he paused and looked along the narrow hall at the closed white doors. Then he saw one open.
“Eddie?”
The door opened wide and she stood on the threshold, gazing at him.
“Hello, Mia,” he said grimly.
“Eddie.”
“Surprised? Your name’s in the phone book. You’re easy to find, Mia.”
He glanced away from her and down the sweep of steps till he saw the shadows in the foyer.
“Your pals.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He followed her into the apartment and stood watching her close the door. She wore a figured dressing gown of dark green; her dark shining hair was upswept. It made her face look Grecian.
Her simple beauty cut through him.
“Eddie, I’m so glad you came. I’ve been worried about you. I . . .”
“What happened, Mia?” he cut in.
“I was delayed. I got there at six-thirty and you were gone. Why didn’t you wait? Why?”
“I had another appointment,” he said.
The room was long and low, with light gray walls; at the end were two narrow louvered windows that made him instantly think of the Lorraine. Beyond the windows was the reach of the night.
He looked at the white pebbled fabric of the furniture, at the long sofa that gleamed under the light of its two flanking lamps. Then at the rest of the room as it dimmed away from the flash of light till the far walls were in complete shadow.
“Looks expensive.”
“It is.”
She had moved away from him, and was now standing in the shadows. Her eyes looked almost warily at his grim figure.
“Who pays, Mia?”
“I do.”
“You got a kitchen and a bedroom. You’re in a pretty fancy neighborhood. Who pays, Mia?”
“Eddie, what is this?”
“You tell me.”
“I pay for it. Who else? It’s more than I can afford, but I love it, and so I pay for it.”
She moved out of the shadows to him. Her clear skin glowed in the lamplight.
“On a librarian’s salary?”
“Yes.”
Her voice rose and her dark eyes flashed. “Eddie, why do you speak to me this way? Why?”
“How do you want me to speak to you, Mia? After what happened.”
“I was delayed. I told you that.”
“Yeah. On purpose.”
“Joey Alcan’s daughter. Joey would’ve killed you for what you did. He’s turning over in his grave now.”
The color drained from her cheeks. Her lips trembled. He felt a tightening in his heart as he saw the hurt he had given her. But he went on. “You did a job on me, Mia. A swell job.”
“Job? What job?” she said in an agonized voice. “Eddie, what have I done that you treat me this way? I know what you’re going through, but does it give you the right to . . .”
Her voice choked up and she couldn’t go on. He turned away from her and was silent. The silken drapes rustled softly in the night breeze. Then he heard the thin sigh of the palm trees; and they were still again.
“Eddie. Eddie, what have I done?”
He didn’t answer.
“Why do you torture me this way?”
He turned back to her and his gray eyes glinted fiercely. “Ferer, Mia. Ferer.”
“Ferer?”
“You tell me.”
“Tell you what? What?”
“Ferer. The hundred grand. The bank.”
She stood there, a frantic, bewildered look on her face.
“This, Mia. This!”
His hands tore open his shirt. She gasped when she saw the raw, red flesh, as if he had struck her.
“Eddie!” And her voice was like a scream.
“This. This. They gave me a going over. Your pals gave me a real good one this time. And you set them up, Mia. You.”
“I?”
He reached out savagely and gripped her hands. “Mia. Mia, why don’t you level with me?”
“Eddie, please. Please.”
“You know I got the hundred grand. And you know how Ferer is trying to get it away from me.”
“I don’t know. I don’t.”
“But you do,” he said hoarsely. “How the hell does he know the money’s in the bank? How?”
“You’re hurting me.”
She tried to twist away from him, but in his fury his grip tightened.
“You’re the only one who saw us put it in. You were there when Al came up with the brief case.”
He loomed over her. “The brief case. Mia. The brief case. That was the tipoff All the way down the line.”
“Eddie.”
Her voice broke and he saw the tears come into her eyes. His fury started to leave him, quicker than it had come. He released his hold on her.
“Edd
ie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is that you’re scaring me. For you. For you.”
“Yeah. For me.”
The tears were now streaming down the oval face. The lips quivered. She turned her head away from him and began to sob. “For you. Can’t you see that, Eddie? Can’t you?”
He felt a sudden urge to reach out his big hand and touch the smooth, shining hair. Touch it tenderly and with that touch take away the tears. But instead he swung about and went to the windows and stood there, staring out into the night.
When the sobbing had ceased, he spoke to her. Each word was slow and deliberate. “You were with them all the time. The bank. And then the way you found me at the motel. And made me come running after you. Made me fall in love with you.”
“Love, Eddie?”
He felt her come close to him.
“Love?”
“You know that better than I do, Mia.”
“I only know it now. Now.”
He shook his head grimly. “No, Mia. It was there in my big dumb face from the first minute I saw you. I’m an easy guy to read.” He added bitterly, “A real easy guy.”
The tears were back in her eyes again. She reached her hand out to his but he drew away from her.
“The act is over. Why go on with it?”
“Eddie, you wrong me so. And yourself. Yourself, Eddie. Because I love you too. Can’t you see that?”
And she repeated softly, “Love you, too.”
“No,” he said hoarsely, his face tense and agonized. “No.”
“With all my heart.”
“No, Mia.”
But within he trembled and fought desperately to believe. Because he knew at the core of his being that without belief there was nothing. Nothing left for him.
“I love you, Eddie,” she said. “Longer than you have loved me. Longer. Much longer. From the time you came to us with the money in your hand. I loved you then for what you were. A big decent man with a heart as big as his body. And I loved your face, too. The color of your hair and the gray of your eyes. And the way you spoke, in that big yet gentle voice. I loved you then, Eddie. I love you now.”
He moved a few steps to her and then he stopped.
“Eddie,” she said. “Can’t you believe me? Why do you fight away from me? I know nothing about this Ferer or the money. Nothing.” ‘
He stood there, his body aching to feel her nearness. She came closer.