We agreed to reconvene in the morning at a roadhouse about three miles from our target’s would-be compound. As our crew broke up, Jimmy put the arm on Duncan. “Hear you also lost some back there in Europe, boyo,” he said softly to the stuntman.
Duncan gave him a long look, then pushed up his left shirtsleeve to show Jimmy the numbers tattooed there on his arm. “My whole family died in the camp. I was the only one got out. If the war had gone another week?” He pushed his sleeve back down. “That’s why I’ve told Will I will be the one to press the button on that bomb tomorrow.” This frightening smile. “I’m going to relish that.” As an afterthought, Duncan said, “Hope neither of you has a problem with that.”
49
We didn’t get much sleep from there. After being cautioned that enough of the truck’s remains might be traced to a rental agency or used car lot, Jimmy hotwired some heap and drove it to a garage for Will to equip with a remote steering rig. I went ahead and rented a tow truck so we could get the truck loaded with the explosives on site.
About four a.m., Jimmy and I decided it was best just to banish thoughts of sleep and push ahead through to the end of the thing, fueled by hi-test coffee and adrenaline.
Driving out to the site in the tow truck, Jimmy said, “Despite everything, all the precautions, the Feds are likely going to land on the two of us. They’re likely to land on us hard for this, Hector. We’ll be their prime suspects, of course.”
That thought got my guts going. I said, “Of course. And that’s further great reason to be on that plane to Mexico this evening. Let things cool off while we savor some south-of-the-border living. Besides, David, I mean Duncan, had some ideas about how to throw suspicion in another direction, well away from us.”
Jimmy said, “Care to elaborate?”
“It’s his idea. Better to let him explain it.”
***
Before we pushed the bomb-laden truck into launch position, Will handed out earplugs to everyone. He said, “Even though you’re wearing these, you should still put your hands to your ears and keep your mouths open until after she blows. That last will help equalize pressure in your skulls so you don’t blow out your eardrums. We’ll be far enough back the shockwave won’t do us permanent damage, but it will maybe knock you off your feet.”
Barney said, “When Hec has confirmed a Höttl sighting, and the guy goes back inside, then we’ll start. I’ll roll tape, peppering them with some official sounding threats. Make ’em think we’re the county sheriff’s boys. Hec, Packy, Jimmy and Duncan will lay down some rifle fire on the doors to keep the bastards inside. Then Will and Duncan will wrap it up with the big boom.”
***
Jimmy and I were crouched down behind a fallen tree’s big old rotting trunk, waiting for a glimpse of Werner Höttl.
I said to Jimmy, “These rifles in our hands, and with these scopes, it’s going to be tempting to take a shot at Werner, to put him down first and early with a single shell. But we can’t do that. If we were to miss?”
That bought me a pretty withering look from Jimmy. “I trust you’re talking to yourself, Hector,” he said coolly. “For my part, I wouldn’t risk losing that son of a bitch again now that we’ve found him. That’s on the one hand. On the other hand, the only satisfaction in personally pulling the trigger on him would come in Höttl’s knowing who was killing him. But we’re serving this one up cold and from far away, so I’m willing to let that camp survivor detonate the explosion. So, are you just thinking out loud because you’re afraid you might take that reckless shot?”
“Dammit, no… I—” I slapped his back. “I’m just working my mouth, and stupidly. All this is a little unsavory and more than a little overkill. Guess it’s just got me second-guessing.”
“There’s still time to call it off.” The tone in Jimmy’s voice led me to believe he might try and knock me unconscious and charge ahead if I really intended to pull the plug on this operation.
“Christ, no,” I said. “We’ve all but done it now.”
Duncan said, “Brothers! Look, the door!”
I picked up my rifle, careful to keep my finger well away from the trigger for Jimmy’s benefit.
My Irish friend’s soft tenor in my ear, “Is that him, Hector? Is that the German devil?”
The man who stepped outside the door was wearing a long black coat. He was also wearing a black fedora. I could only see him in three-quarter view from the back. He was fiddling with his pants zipper from the look of things. He stood there watering a plant with his poison, looking around at the countryside. I then saw the livid scar trailing down the right side of his face. I said, “It’s been quite a few years, but there couldn’t be two wounds like that one in the world.”
Jimmy pressed, “So it is him?”
“Got the right scar,” I said.
“Okay, then.” Jimmy signaled the boys with a thumbs-up. His voice raw, he said, “Soon as the lad goes back inside, we do this.”
The thin man in the black coat shook, zipped up, then turned heel, headed back inside. The clouds had grown gray and low and it was starting to rain.
Jimmy said softly, “Feds are going to be so pissed at us.”
I got my rifle up and into firing position. Sighting in on the pole barn’s garage door, I said, “They surely are.”
Will turned over the truck’s engine and got her in gear. He picked up his remote. “I say we start this rig down the hill,” he said. “About halfway to target, Barney turns on his speakers. That way, they can’t run far enough away to survive the blast. That way, if they do fire back, the truck will be closer to them than to us if they should accidentally trigger her explosion.”
***
The blast was a ghastly, terrifying thing to experience at close range.
Because of the low cloud ceiling, Will explained later, the air pressure suppressed the upward force of the explosion, pressing it back to earth and intensifying the blast force.
I had no doubt that if we’d been standing when the explosives went off we’d have been knocked clean off our feet. The rush of air in our faces was blast-furnace hot and the ground shook for what seemed several seconds.
The building was gone, along with anything inside or immediately around it.
I was appalled by what I could see of the emerging crater. The black mushroom cloud roiling over that hole was sublime. It looked a little like a black death’s head.
As Will told me later, the magnitude of the explosion wasn’t entirely his work.
“I should have figured they’d have stockpiled their own explosives, and they obviously did,” he said. “We’re goddamn lucky we weren’t killed by that blast, too.” Several trees had been toppled around the back of the blast site and the grass was on fire.
Jimmy dug his earplugs from his ears and hollered, “We should move our asses, boys! This is going to draw all kinds of crowds!”
As we prepared to flee the scene, Duncan was hanging behind, drawing in the dirt with a stick. Jimmy leaned over and said, “What’s that you’re doodling?”
It was a crude sketch of a menorah surrounded by a circle of Hebraic text. I said, “That’s our misdirection I was telling you about earlier, Jimmy. It’s our fall-guy, so to speak. It’s the emblem of the Mossad.”
50
The plane ride to Chihuahua was a bit rough. Some storm front seemingly without end set the craft to bucking. I said, “No fretting, Jimmy—Lee could fly into hell itself and back.”
Half-nauseous myself, I broke the seal on a bottle of tequila. Sour-faced, Jimmy said, “That can’t possibly help.”
“Can’t hurt, either.” I took a swig; barely kept it down.
Jimmy accepted the bottle, took a sip. He made a face and handed it back. He said, “Feels a little hollow, doesn’t it? At least for me. What about you?”
“You mean this thing with Höttl? Maybe a little empty. Guess there is something to what you were saying about the bastard knowing who did it to him. Still, it
’s done now, and Marie can live her life without that shadow. And all the others we took out today? They’re not going to be troubling my sleep.”
I looked out the window. There wasn’t a hell of a lot to see out there except when lightning slashed the sky. “Good news is, I think we’ve crossed into Mexican airspace,” I said. “So we’re free of Federal entanglement, for a time. If they really mean to burn us, I suppose we can just be two more gringos hedonistically living out our days here in Old Meh-hico. Hell, I can write anywhere.”
“But I can’t police just anywhere,” Jimmy said. “And that’s another thing. This intelligence role of Höttl’s that was so important to these shadowy government types, what the hell was that?”
I shrugged, staring at my bottle and mulling whether to take another hit. “Guess we’ll never know.”
“How do you figure the story of this explosion will play in the press?”
I put the bottle aside and said, “Will was adamant the building was packed with explosives. Most elegant thing for officials to say is these Nazi-types accidentally blew themselves to hell. It’ll look like they died butter-fingered dumbasses. I like that notion.”
My ears began to pop, then. I said, “Coming in for landing, feels like.”
Jimmy, looking a little greener, said, “Not a goddamn moment too soon.”
***
Staring out the window of our cab, Jimmy looked glum again. Our driver had the radio cranked up a bit too loud and not quite squarely set on some mariachi station that was more static than music.
Over the din, Jimmy said, “I’ve never understood your love for this country.”
“This is a good place,” I said. “I like Chihuahua. They say the name comes from the Tarhumara language. Means ‘between two waters.’ The Sacramento and Chuviscar rivers meet here.”
“I still don’t care for it.”
“Well, you won’t be here too long,” I said. “We’ll get you and Marie on a plane back to Ohio soon as you want to go.”
“It will be soon,” he said. “I’m just staying here long enough to convince myself a flight back to the U.S. won’t land me in irons for that bedlam back in Lotus Land earlier today.” He turned to face me. “What about you and Duff?”
“I’m going to see if I can’t talk her into a few weeks together down here,” I said. “See if I can’t persuade Duff to head down to the Yucatan, maybe. It’s been good to have her back these few days. Hell, maybe with a few more years behind us now, well, maybe we could work this time, you know?”
Jimmy looked skeptical, but said, “You know I’ve always been most fond of that one. I haven’t met ’em all of course, all of your women, I mean. But of the ones I’ve run into, along with Brinke, Duff’s my favorite.”
51
“Neighborhood is a tad better than I expected,” Jimmy said, scanning the small, stucco, Spanish-style homes whipping by.
“It’s a retirement district for old gringos,” I said. “I got ’em a rental. And Jimmy, not all of Mexico is like a Wallace Beery film. It runs the spectrum, like all places.”
I checked addresses as the cab slowed. I tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Up there, the one on the left. Stop here, por favor.”
Jimmy braced his hands against the back seat as the cab lurched to a rubber-squealing stop. He said, “Why not pull into the driveway?”
I pointed. In a strained voice I said, “See that hanging plant?”
Jimmy squinted, then nodded. “Sure, but it’s not hanging.”
“Exactly. Also, those venetian blinds in the front window are slanted in, not out. They’re both distress signals I set up with Duff before we left California.” Anticipating his next question, I said, “And, yes, Marie knew them, too.”
Distractedly, I settled up with our cab driver. I said, “Can you wait here a few minutes? We may still need you.”
Rattled, I took Jimmy by the arm. “I’ll go in through the front. You take the back.”
Jimmy nodded. He reached under his jacket and drew his gun. “This feels bad.”
“It feels very bad,” I agreed.
***
I found Duff on the bed.
The carnage was appalling.
***
Jimmy found me in the bathroom, bent over the toilet. Between dry heaves, I managed, “Marie’s not here. I think—” another gag, “I think she’s the one who moved the plant… to warn us.”
He pressed his big hand to my back. “Aw, Christ, Hector. I’m so goddamn sorry. But nothing can be done for her.”
“I know.”
Spent, I fell back against the bathtub, trying to force the image of her body on the bed from my mind. “Jesus Christ, what they did to Duff! I’ll fucking tear them apart with my bare hands,” I vowed. “Swear I’ll kill ’em slow and bloody like nobody’s ever been killed.”
“I’m sure that’s so.” Jimmy fished my jacket pocket. He took out two cigarettes and my Zippo. “They didn’t get to do everything they wanted to Duff,” he said softly. He handed me a lit cigarette and dropped my lighter back in my pocket. I took my first hit of nicotine and wiped my eyes.
My voice was raw. “What do you mean, Jimmy?”
Jimmy said, “Duff was tough, make no mistake.” He held up a necklace. I remembered it from France. Seeing it again sent this fresh chill through me.
“She must have held onto this from the war,” he said. “At some point, Duff got a hand free. She took an old L pill, ended her own suffering and robbed them the chance to hurt her more. A lot of that bloodiness burned into your brain now, maybe even most, was post-mortem.” Maybe Jimmy was lying to spare me. If so, I loved him more for it.
He hesitated, then handed me the necklace. “If we were back home, I’d make book Coroner Gilbert would say she’s been dead at least twenty-four hours.”
I fumbled in my pocket, got out a notebook and pen. I turned to a virgin sheet and scribbled down an address. “This is the place where I told Marie to go if there was any trouble. It’s in the city, proper. Pancho Villa’s widow lives there. I made her acquaintance earlier this year, and she owes me a favor. You better hurry. That cab will be going soon.”
He furrowed his brow. “What will you do?”
“Call the police,” I said thickly. “I’ll stay here until they come. By then, I’ll have a story for them. Once I’ve handled things here, I’ll come looking for you at that address. My gut instinct is Marie is there, safe.”
Jimmy squeezed my shoulder. “Okay, Hector. Better give me your gun. God knows what those Mex police would make of you carrying a six-shooter.”
We tossed our cigarette butts into the toilet and I flushed. Woozy, I stood and shrugged off my jacket, then my shoulder holster. I passed the holster and Colt to Jimmy. “You need to fly, pal,” I said. “You have to be on fire to get there, so please, just go.”
“You’re right,” he said. “But before I do that, some advice. Don’t look at that bed again, Hector. Remember Duff as she was. And don’t force yourself to look for clues. I’ve already done that.” He bit his lip, then said, “Soon those Mexican cops will be here. Not knowing how good they might be, I think there’s a risk they might accidentally obliterate the one strange thing to be found in there.”
“What’s that?” I slipped back on my sports coat. My legs were shaking; my heart raced. I so wanted to kill something. I wanted to rewrite history. I wanted not to have sent Duff down here with Marie. I couldn’t fathom Duff being dead.
Jimmy hid my gun and holster under his right armpit, then closed his own coat. He said it in his cop’s voice. “There are three dents in the carpet, right there at the foot of the bed. To me, they look like they were left by a camera tripod.”
52
We lingered for a long time in front of Donna Maria Luz Corral De Villa’s old and French-style house dubbed Quinta de Luz. In the night, the pink stucco covering the place looked like diluted blood.
As we stood there embracing, wetting one another’s should
ers, I stroked Marie’s back.
She had, she said, come back from a walk and saw that the blinds had been twisted inward. Duff had evidently had enough warning to do that one thing.
As she was deciding what to do next, Marie heard the front door opening. She hid behind some shrubs. She watched two men leave. One was tallish, skinny…that was all she could make out of that one. The other was stocky, balding and bespectacled. They were speaking to one another in German. Both men’s shoes and slacks were splattered with blood. The thin one was carrying a movie camera. That one had paused to relieve himself in the front yard before they drove away.
When they had gone, Marie ran inside and found the bloody crime scene that would haunt her to the grave.
“You shouldn’t have gone in there,” I said, rather stupidly.
“I wish that I hadn’t,” she said between soft sobs. “I didn’t stay long. Just ran out of there, screaming and trying not to retch. I stopped long enough to move the hanging plant to the porch step.”
Marie looked up at me, her dark eyes searching my face. “What will happen to Duff?”
“Police here will do what they can, their coroner, too,” I said. My voice was still raw and hoarse from all the heaving I’d done earlier. “When they’re done, I’m having Duff sent to New Mexico. She loved the desert. I had a burial plot there picked out for myself. Got a nice view.” For the living, that was to say.
She said, “I want to be there when you, you know.”
“You will be. You and Jimmy. But before I can make those kinds of plans, I have to make sure the Feds aren’t going to slap irons on your uncle and I when we cross the border to go home.”
Marie hugged me tighter. “How will you know when it’s safe to return?”
“I’m going to work the phone in just a few minutes,” I said. “I’ll see what Jimmy’s and my status is. And I want to pursue another angle. Only one way that those men of Höttl’s found you two here. There’s a leak on our government’s side.”
Roll the Credits: A Hector Lassiter novel Page 26