Diamond Eyes (Alo Nudger Book 7)

by John Lutz

  Nudger and the skeleton wedged themselves into the tiny backseat. Bobinet squeezed himself in behind the little car’s steering wheel. Marlou sat beside him in front. The inside of the car was warm, and the skeleton smelled as sick as he was. There didn’t seem to be enough air. For a while the only sound was that of the skeleton’s labored breathing.

  Bobinet half turned to face Marlou, and so he could see Nudger. “Now, we talk. We ask, first of all, Marcy Lou, where are the diamonds?”

  Marlou glared at him. “Got no diamonds.”

  Bobinet smiled at her and shook his head slowly. “You, your sister, and Rupert fucking Winslow were in it together. We found the brown wrapping paper and twine, saw the New York postmark on it, in your apartment. Right near the bottom of the kitchen wastebasket. Found the doll the diamonds were stashed in. Know the weight of the doll and the diamonds together’d be just about what the postage was on the package.” He leaned closer to her, handsome guy looking like he was about to do a Hollywood love scene with a starlet. Young romantics parked in lover’s lane. “Marcy Lou, you got the diamonds, and before I’m done with you you’ll goddamn beg to tell me where they are.”

  “If you found brown wrapping paper and twine in my apartment, somebody put it there. Not me. I never got a thing in the mail from New York City. Don’t know anybody there and, like, I don’t wanna.”

  Bobinet shifted his gaze to the backseat. “Whadda you say, Nudger?”

  “Oh, I believe her.”

  “Couple of lying assholes, all right,” the skeleton said. He had the gun out now where they could see it. A nasty-looking blue steel Ruger automatic. Looked like a thirty-eight caliber. He was holding it with the casual familiarity of a carpenter gripping an electric drill. Tool of the trade.

  “Well,” Bobinet said, “I don’t believe her. Neither does my pal, here. Neither does Stockton the insurance guy.”

  “What’s he doing in Hannibal?” Nudger asked, staring at the black bore of the automatic. Lord, he hated guns! Hated them and feared them.

  The skeleton spat out a wheezy laugh. “What’s this shit? You don’t answer our questions, we answer yours? Like some kinda TV no-brainer game show where we take turns?”

  “If it’s a game show,” Bobinet said, “it’s ‘Jeopardy!’ ”

  The skeleton laughed again.

  Bobinet said, “Stockton’s got a vested interest in the diamonds, just like we do. He’s the one tipped us about where you’d be going. Guy like that, he’s got some wherewithal. Had a tap put on your girlfriend’s phone and listened in when you called Marcy Lou here to check up on her. Figured out where she was from the conversation. We wanted to meet with you, tell you about the wrapping paper and the doll, then drive up here together and settle this. You shoulda been more careful.”

  Nudger felt anger churn in his stomach along with fear. “The bastard cut a deal with you two.”

  “Sure. We give Stockton half the diamonds back, his company pulls off the investigation. Quits pressuring the law to stay on the hunt. Kinda thing’s done all the time in our line of work, Nudger. Diamonds cause people to compromise. ’Course, he did make us promise not to hurt Marcy Lou here.”

  “Decent of him.” And naive. Nudger knew Stockton would never see the glitter of a single diamond. Bobinet and the skeleton would consider him a loose end and a risk. They’d kill him and keep everything for themselves. After they’d ... done what they were going to do to Nudger and Marlou. After Marlou talked.

  “Why’d you need me for this?” he asked. “How come you didn’t just drive up here and find Marlou by yourselves?”

  Bobinet said, “We think she mighta given the diamonds to you for safekeeping. Or at least you know where they are. Thing is, we wanted the matter settled once and for all, what with the police looking for us over snuffing Vanita.”

  “Not to mention Ed Franks.”

  “Not to mention.”

  The little car seemed to close in on Nudger. The skeleton’s ragged breathing seemed louder. The air thicker and staler. Nudger’s heart was dancing against his ribs, protesting lack of oxygen. His stomach was cold with terror. He might very soon have no need for oxygen. He didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not for years.

  Bobinet suddenly held a knife in his left hand. Lightly and expertly. He grabbed Marlou’s chin abruptly with his right hand, squeezing it and grinning into her face. Her lips scrunched together and made her resemble a fish. She wasn’t blinking; the fish was unafraid and mad as hell.

  “Time to play ‘Tell the Truth,’ bitch,” he said, “or I start slow with this blade and finish fast.”

  Her body gave a sudden, enraged jerk and she began slapping at him with the Raggedy Ann doll. “Go aheah an’ kill me!” she shouted through her distorted lips. “You ain’t gonna be-wieve me anyways!”

  Shocked, Bobinet released her chin and tried to draw back, but there was no way he could escape in the tiny car. He flicked backhanded at Marlou with the knife but his wrist hit the rearview mirror and the knife fell to the floor. The mirror was knocked at a cockeyed angle that caused Nudger to be staring into his own wide, frightened eyes.

  “Wring your fucking neck!” Bobinet said, and squirmed around to try to get his hands on Marlou’s throat. She kept hitting him with the doll. Over and over. Interfering with his vision. Stuffing flew from the doll’s torn chest cavity and filled the car with floating shreds of batting. One of Bobinet’s futile defensive grabs tore off Raggedy Ann’s arm. More batting flew.

  The skeleton sneezed, then began a horrible rattling cough.

  “Shoot the cunt!” Bobinet commanded. “Don’t kill her, though!”

  The skeleton started to raise the blue steel automatic, but Nudger grabbed his wrist. Circled his fingers completely around almost fleshless bone.

  But the skeleton was strong. He lashed out at Nudger with his free hand and missed, but his angular elbow bounced off Nudger’s forehead. Yeowch! Hurt! Made Nudger mad.

  The little car was rocking. Batting was flying thicker in the hot air. The skeleton was gasping. Sputtering and coughing uncontrollably. Nudger held on to the wrist of his gun hand, keeping the automatic aimed away from Marlou.

  “Shoot the cunt!” Bobinet yelled again. He’d managed to get one hand to Marlou’s throat and had her head back, squeezing. She continued to flail away with Raggedy Ann.

  Hanging onto the skeleton’s wrist, Nudger used his other arm and encircled Bobinet’s neck, pulling him back hard toward the rear of the car. Bobinet actually growled in rage and frustration. Nudger wouldn’t be able to hold him long.

  “Get out,” Nudger moaned to Marlou. “Get outa the car and run!”

  “He’s got a hold of me!” Marlou yelled. “Won’t let loose!”

  The skeleton wheezed and went into a coughing fit, his thin body wracked with spasms. The wrist jerked uncontrollably in Nudger’s hand, like that of a marionette worked by a madman.

  The skeleton’s finger involuntarily twitched on the trigger.

  Nudger’s ears rang from the explosion in the confines of the compact car. A perfect round hole appeared in the front seat back. He felt Bobinet stiffen, then go limp.

  When Nudger released him, Bobinet stared in childlike wonder as his head lolled back and to the side. Through the buzzing reverberations of the shot, Nudger heard Marlou say, “Gawd, the blood!”

  The skeleton was still coughing, thrashing and struggling to catch his breath. Sucking in more floating cotton batting from the doll and making things worse. His left hand clawed for the door handle.

  Found it.

  Marlou was out of the car. Nudger helped the skeleton fall out on the other side by kicking at him as he released the wrist of his gun hand. Then he fumbled with the lock and door handle on his side and spilled from the little car. He landed on his hands and knees on the pavement. Something sharp dug into the heel of his hand.

  From the other side of the car he could hear the skeleton still coughing and gasping. Even so the gun came
into sight at the other end of the backseat and was waved in the general direction of Nudger. He slammed the miniature car door and scrambled to his feet. Grabbed Marlou’s elbow and led her away. He was careful to keep the car between them and the skeleton. It was only a matter of time before the bony killer would regain control and be after them.

  “That one goon dead?” Marlou asked beside Nudger. She was breathing almost as hard as the skeleton.

  “Hope so,” Nudger said.

  “So much blood ...”

  “Better his than ours.”

  “Where we goin’, Mr. Nudger?”

  Pertinent question.

  Nudger noticed there were people around them now. Apparently the car had muffled the shot enough so it didn’t draw anyone’s attention, parked as it was in a relatively desolate spot, a graveled area off Front, the street that ran parallel to the river.

  He yanked Marlou along beside him and said, “We gotta keep folks around us so the skeleton won’t try anything. So we’ll be safe. You understand?”

  “Heck, yeah!” She brushed cotton batting from her clothes. “But you really think that skinny one with the gun’ll, like, come after us?”

  “He’ll come after the diamonds,” Nudger said.

  Marlou held on to the straw purse she’d automatically grabbed as she clambered from the car. Women and purses. She’d lost the matching straw hat, though. “I ain’t got the diamonds.”

  “Tell him, not me,” Nudger said. “But for now, calm down and act normal.”

  “Ain’t gonna be easy.”

  “What about any of this has been?”

  They’d been moving toward the river and were in with the throng of people boarding the Mark Twain at the foot of Center Street. Nudger paid for two tickets and led Marlou onto the sharply angled gangplank.

  The riverboat was the most immediate if not the fastest way to leave town, and it would be crowded with tourists who’d provide safety in numbers.

  As they trod across the gangplank he glanced back. Down along the sun-washed riverbank. He couldn’t see the skeleton.

  But he knew he was there somewhere, with death in his soul and greed in his eye.

  And a gun in his pocket.

  31

  On board the boat, Nudger led Marlou to a bar where he bought them each a Coke. He wished he could have made his drink a stiff scotch and water, but he didn’t want anything muddling his thinking. Besides, his stomach was twitching and was in no mood to accept hard liquor without violent protest.

  He ushered Marlou to the open third deck, where there were some tiny square black tables and beige plastic chairs. They sat down. Sipped their drinks. Looked at each other.

  Marlou said, “Jesus, Mr. Nudger!” The aftermath of action, what they’d just lived through, was finally washing over her. She began to tremble.

  “Take it easy,” Nudger said. “You might still need some strength.” In the corner of his vision he saw the skeleton boarding the boat, slouching along the gangplank. His sleazy checked sport jacket was buttoned, no doubt to conceal the gun tucked in his belt.

  Marlou spotted him. “Mr. Nudger—”

  “I see him. He can’t do anything in the middle of all these people. Not on a boat there’s no way off except for a long swim to shore. He doesn’t look very athletic to me.”

  The boat’s whistle blasted twice, causing Nudger to jump. His nerves were still frayed. Down below, engines revved up like slumbering monsters awakened; the boat throbbed. Lines were loosed, and the riverbank seemed to move away from the rail.

  The Mark Twain smoothly picked up speed. It traveled surprisingly fast. Nudger could hear the rush of water and see the brown-and-white churning expanse of river kicked up by the flailing paddle wheel; a long, tumultuous wake that fanned wide toward opposite banks. Nineteenth-century river pilots had seen the same sight, felt the same vibrations. Riverboat gamblers.

  Someone was standing close behind Nudger. Marlou was staring up at whoever it was, over Nudger’s shoulder.

  Bill Stockton sat down at the table, between Nudger and Marlou. “I’ll join you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Or if we do,” Nudger said. He was glad again to be surrounded by strangers ; the protective herd that foiled predators.

  The skeleton walked over and sat down opposite Stockton, letting out a wheezy sigh.

  No one spoke to him. The skeleton said, “I’m sure Roger’s dead.”

  “You shot him,” Nudger said.

  “You made me.”

  Stockton said, “Shut up. The diamonds are what we wanna talk about here.”

  “I’m sick of hearing about those diamonds,” Marlou said.

  Stockton grinned at her. He looked more than ever like a fat bird, Nudger thought. A pigeon. Nudger sure hated pigeons.

  The skeleton stared hard at Marlou. He wheezed and blinked. “We want them diamonds in the worst way, miss. And this boat’s gotta dock sometime.”

  Marlou took a long sip of soda from Nudger’s cup, then shoved her chair back. Her face was flushed again, her green eyes narrowed. She was working up anger, maybe to counter her fear. “You all make me wanna just, like, scream!” she said.

  That possibility seemed to alarm the skeleton. He sat up straighter.

  But she didn’t scream.

  Surprised Nudger, though.

  She said, “Okay. You was right all along. I got the diamonds. But I wasn’t in on stealing them the first time nor the second. My sister got them in the mail from Rupert and brought them to me to hide, so they wouldn’t be in her apartment. We bought a Raggedy Ann doll, just like the one I had when I was a little girl, and put them inside.”

  “Where are they now?” Stockton asked. He was leaning forward over the table, pinpoints of blue light in his eyes.

  Marlou stood up, clutching her straw purse tight to her side. “Here!” she said. She reached into the purse, then turned away and strode to the rail. Drew back her arm like a major league pitcher.

  Whipped it up and forward.

  Nudger heard Stockton gasp. The skeleton said, “Jesus, no—”

  The diamonds flew skyward and caught every ray of the evening sun. Glittered as they scattered and described a graceful, fateful arc to disappear into the churning river behind the boat.

  “Aw, fuck ...” the skeleton said, moaning. “Stupid cunt! Stupid cunt!”

  Stockton was slumped back in his chair now, his face pale. “My God, girl! Almost a million dollars ...”

  “Maybe we can send down divers,” the skeleton suggested. He was calmer but visibly devastated. Still staring out at the wide and timeless river that had claimed the diamonds and his dreams.

  Stockton shook his head. “We’re in the middle of the fucking Mississippi. It’s deep here, and the water’s always churning the soft bottom mud. It’d cost a fortune to dredge for the diamonds, and we might not recover even one. They could be washed a mile downstream by the time we even got an operation under way. Spread all over and buried deep in the silt.” He glared at Marlou, who’d returned to stand next to the table, with pure rage and hate. “You realize what you’ve done, you country hick fool?”

  Nudger said, “She did what you forced her into. It’s over now. There are no more diamonds to chase, unless you’re a fish.”

  The skeleton said, “It was gonna be my last big score. Money for what little time I got left.”

  “There’s always Medicare,” Nudger said, actually trying not to feel sorry for the wasted thief and killer.

  “Fuck you, Nudger!” The skeleton stood up. He spat a yellow glob of phlegm on the deck in the general direction of Marlou, then stalked away.

  Stockton sighed like a dying man giving up a last breath. He said, “Well, I took a run at it.”

  He flashed Nudger a sad smile. Even managed one for Marlou. Then he rose from the table and followed the skeleton toward the bow of the boat.

  Marlou sat back down. Nudger didn’t look at her. He sat and watched the trees on the bank slidin
g past. Their top branches were catching the setting sun; the leaves looked silver.

  He heard Marlou shove her chair back and stand up. She said, “I wanna be alone now. Okay?”

  He nodded.

  She walked away, losing herself like the other two in the crowd on the boat.

  Nudger knew she was in no danger now. There was nothing to be gained by harming her. Stockton’s company, Sloan Trust Insurance, wasn’t in the business of revenge. Neither was a pro like the skeleton. A loss was a loss.

  Nudger had about broken even. Most of the retainer paid to him by Vanita had been used for expenses. That was no way to stay in business, he told himself. No way to avoid a court date with Eileen and Henry Mercato.

  It was all so depressing.

  He continued to sit there in the cooling evening, watching the bank slide past while he finished his soda and then chewed the cracked ice.

  A pain shot through the right side of his jaw. Something small and sharp was lying on the edge of his tongue. He was sure he’d broken a tooth on the hard chunks of ice.

  Gingerly he extended his tongue and squeezed the tiny object on it between thumb and forefinger. Removed it from his mouth and held it out and examined it.

  It wasn’t a fragment of tooth.

  It looked like ice, but it wasn’t.

  It was clear and cold but much harder than ice.

  32

  Nudger saw that Marlou’s paper cup was missing from the table. A handful of ice, not diamonds, had been flung over the rail and caught the sun. Disappeared in the deep muddy river. Marlou must have dropped the single diamond into Nudger’s cup when she’d pretended to sip his drink by mistake. Then she’d slipped her own cup into her purse as she turned toward the rail. Pretended to dig in her purse for the diamonds. And then ...

  A handful of ice. Melting as it fell.

  Nothing but ice!

  Nudger sat on the gliding riverboat, the riverbank easing past like slow time. He stared at the diamond in his sweaty palm and felt its power. People killed for these. It was slightly smaller than a pea, clear but with a brilliant blue light in its center like a cruel soul. He had no idea of its quality. What it was worth. No idea what he should do with it. What he should do about Marlou. Naive but wily country girl, sensing a friend in the river. Like Huck, using it as a means of escape.