by Lou Cameron
“I can buy and sell judges like I buy and sell everybody else. But look, forget the fix if you don’t trust me. How does one cool million in cash sound to you?”
“Sounds nice. Assuming I could trust you.”
“Tell you what. You just drop me off at the next town and I’ll let you keep Flo, here, as a hostage to my good faith.”
Captain Gringo noted the stricken look the blonde shot at the little banker and chuckled, asking, “Gee, do I get to keep the colored boy, too?”
“You keep anybody you want. Just so I make it to Texas and a stock-market wire before the market opens Monday!”
“How do I get the money?”
“I’ll wire it to Flo in Tampico. How about it, Flo? You’ll go along with that, won’t you?”
Flo’s voice was bitter as she asked, “Do I have any choice?”
“Attagirl. How about it, Walker? One million clams just for letting me off at the next stop.”
“It’s interesting. This deal of yours is about the canal, right?”
The banker’s eyes narrowed as he asked, “What makes you say that, son?”
“I used to read newspapers. It’s obvious both the French and Washington are planning a canal between the Atlantic and the Pacific. Now that they’ve dug one through at Suez and have those new steam shovels, the daydream’s about to become a reality. El Presidente’s pumping for the route across Tehuantepec. Been talking it up for years. It’s my guess they’ll build across Nicaragua or farther south, near Panama City.”
The banker shook his head and said, “That’s where you’re wrong. Mexico is the only country down here with a stable government. The route across Tehuantepec is longer and rougher, but Nicaragua has an earthquake every other day and those crazy Colombians who own Panama keep jacking up the price and playing off one big combine against the others. The greasy, greedy bastards.”
“I see. But El Presidente Diaz offers stability and slave labor, eh? Yeah, I can see how Washington might go along with that, and how a man with advance information could corner the contracting, too.”
“I said I thought you were smart. So, do we have a deal?”
“Put some pants on. I’ll let you know. Right now, I have to run up to the engine and find out where we are.”
He left them to discuss Flo’s continued captivity and let himself out through the locked front door of the private car.
As he walked the length of the other passenger cars he fended off questions put to him by the comfortable but still bewildered peones. Trying to fend off Rosalita was a waste of time, so he let her follow as he made his way through the rail and baggage cars to the cabin of the big 4-6-4 they’d captured.
He asked, “Where are we?” and Robles, at the throttle, said, “We just passed a sign that read “Parras.” Monterrey is about a hundred kilometers down the line. But how are we to run through a big town like that?”
“We’re not,” he answered, taking out his map. He consulted it and said, “There’s a little whistle stop at a village called Cepeda, just ahead.”
“We don’t need water, yet.”
“We’ll top the tanks there anyway as we cut the wire. I’ve got to warn the others not to smoke the place up if they can help it. We’ll be dropping off a passenger there and I want to make sure he gets back to the main line safely.”
As the train pulled out of Cepeda, Morgan Sinclair and his colored servant stood with his baggage on the platform. Calvin looked worried, but the banker was waving smugly to the blonde and Captain Gringo as they watched him from the rear platform.
Flo had put a dress on but she didn’t wave back as the train pulled out of sight. She led the way back inside and said, “I guess I’ve been promoted to bartender. What’s your pleasure?”
He said, “Beer, if it’s cold. I could have kept the servant, if you’d thought to ask. One gathers Mr. Sinclair doesn’t worry about people who work for him.”
Flo turned, eyes blazing, and snapped, “All right, you have my number. I’m a mistress for hire, and apparently not as expensive as I thought!” She added, as she fumbled for glasses, “I don’t think you’re so much, either. You fell for that snake-oil story of his, too.”
“Which one was that, Flo? The bull about the canal or the tall tale about his wiring us a million dollars in Tampico?”
“You knew he’d break that promise?”
“Sure. Wouldn’t you? Meaning no offense, you’re a nice-looking girl, but a million dollars?”
“The son-of-a-bitch would have sold his mother for ten! But if he didn’t con you, how come you let him go? Can’t you see he’s sure to double-cross you?”
“I sure hope so. I told him we were bound for Tampico and that I’d be waiting there like a chump for that money order. The federales might think it’s a better plan to trap us there than to chase us all over the country.”
Flo blinked and gasped, “You mean we’re not going to Tampico? Where are we going, and what happens to me now?”
“Never mind the part about where. I’m tired of people jumping off with helpful hints for El Presidente. Do you have any money of your own?”
“A few dollars, and the jewels he left me with might be worth something, if they’re not paste. Are you going to rob me, too?”
“I’m not going to do anything to you, if you behave. Do you have the steamer fare to New Orleans, once you reach the coast?”
“I think so. I behave like anything, too. I only want to get out of this mess alive and … we can be friends, can’t we?”
He noticed she’d put down her glass to fumble with the buttons of her frock. He said, “You don’t have to be that friendly. I told you we wouldn’t hurt you. Just sit tight and we’ll drop you off safe and sound near civilization.”
She looked uncertain and licked her lips before murmuring, “I know it sounds horrid, but I’d feel safer if you were less detached. Most men find me attractive. It’s the ones who look through me I feel frightened by.”
He smiled and said, “I find you attractive indeed, but this is a funny country. It’s harder to stay alive down here than it is to get a woman. In fact, it’s harder to get a good smoke in Mexico than it is to just keep breathing.”
She dimpled and moved down the bar to a humidor, saying, “Morgan left plenty of dollar cigars. So we’re halfway home!”
She opened the humidor and handed him a Havana Perfecto to go with his beer. He put it between his teeth with a grin and thumbed a light. She smiled back, uncertainly, and asked, “Are you sure there’s nothing else you want?”
He blew a ring of expensive smoke and said, “Yeah, I think a nice warm bath would kill me, but it would be a lovely way to go. I haven’t had a real tub soak since Hector was a pup!”
“You want me to run you a bath? We’ve hot and cold running water, thanks to a steamline from the engine. I’ve scented soap and lavender bath salts, too. Come on. Bring your drink and I’ll show you.”
He started to shake his head. Then he said, “All right. But let’s lock the forward door. I have a mujer who might not take your offer too innocently.”
“Oh? She’d be the little thing in the too-tight white kneepants, wouldn’t she? I noticed her talking to you back there, through the curtains. Is she that jealous?”
“I don’t want to find out. After I soak my own hide I may bring her back for a bath, too. There’s something to be said for riding first class.”
Flo opened the bathroom door, saying, “I suppose so, if you call that little mestiza class.” Then, having taken her shot at Rosalita, she bent over to run the water into the galvanized tub, affording him a view of her from behind he was sure was as deliberate.
As she stood to one side, he took off his gunbelt and hung it near the frosted window, saying, “I’d feel better in here alone, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh? Are you bashful? I thought I’d scrub your back.”
“I’ll scrub my own. All I want is the bath.”
“Are you sure? The d
oor is locked and I said I wanted to be friends.”
He laughed, shoved her gently out, and closed the door firmly as the tub kept filling and the room filled with the warm, clean smell of lavender-scented water. He locked the latch and peeled off his grimed uniform, draping it over the commode before climbing into the small, shallow tub. He leaned back and sighed, “Oh Christ, it’s better than screwing!” as he soaped his tindery flesh. He wanted to soak forever, but he didn’t dare. They were rolling through enemy territory with the whole Mexican Army looking for them and he’d feel silly as hell dying with a cake of perfumed soap in his hand instead of a gun!
He scrubbed and rinsed quickly, still puffing the cigar between his teeth. God, to think of all this luxury being wasted on a fat-faced twit like Sinclair! He wondered what it would be like to live like a bloated plutocrat for just a few days and nights. The goddamned floor was marble tiled, for God’s sake. What a way to travel, with all the comforts of a very expensive home and that plush, luxurious blonde out there to boot!
He became aware he was getting an erection and got swiftly out of the warm tub, drying himself with a big, clean Turkish towel and grinning at himself in the full-length mirror on the door. He needed a shave and hadn’t taken time to wash his hair, but he felt clean for the first time in days. That blonde smelled clean, too. He knew she’d been servicing that pink little banker but, what the hell, he was probably cleaner than anyone of recent memory. Her cunt was probably sweet-smelling as a lush pink rose and—
There was a soft tap on the door and Flo asked, “Are you all right in there?”
He snapped, “No. I just fell out through the drain. I’ll be with you in a minute, damn it!”
He dressed, grimacing in distaste at the sleazy feel of sweat-stained gritty twill on his newly clean flesh. The reason soldiers on campaign tended to get gamey was simply that it hurts less to wear dirty clothes once there’s a layer of dirt and grease and one’s gotten used to the smell. He felt dirtier now than before he’d taken the bath.
Unlocking the door, he stepped out and said, “Thanks. I’ve got to go up to the engine. Don’t lock the door behind me. I’ll post a guard, but if any of us need to reach the rear platform in a hurry you’ll have a shattered lock.”
“Are you sure I’ll be safe, alone back here with no man to protect me?”
“None of us will be safe if they catch up or cut us off. If you hear shooting, fall to the floor and stay there.”
“I wasn’t talking about the federales. I’m afraid of being raped.”
“You are? I hadn’t noticed. Most of our men have mujers. I’ll post one with a good-looking jealous one up front. Don’t invite him in for a bath and he probably won’t get fresh.”
She flushed and snapped, “Listen, I know what you think I am, but damn it, I have feelings, too!”
“Flo, I don’t know what you are. I don’t care what you are. Everybody has feelings and it hurts like hell to get shot. So stop playing chess when the name of the game is checkers. I’ve told you where you stand and there’s no advantage to you in trying to maneuver or manipulate. Just do as you’re told and you’ll be on that steamer before you know it.”
He left her and moved up to the next car. He found a sleepy-looking youth sharing a seat with a plump, pretty girl and told him not to let anyone back to the private car.
He was nearly midtrain before he swore under his breath and muttered, “Jesus! You’re getting sloppy from too little sleep!”
He’d just realized he’d completely lost track of that revolver the banker had had! Had Sinclair left the train with it? Did the blonde have it stashed amid all that luxurious clutter back there? And if she did, was it worth a complete search? If he took her word about it there’d be no point in searching the car. If he didn’t take her word, they’d have to tear out every panel and pry up every floorboard to make certain. It would be simpler by far to just uncouple the damned thing and the hell with it.
On the other hand, there was no advantage to the blonde in shooting anyone in particular, and she seemed smart enough to see this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to abandon all those goodies just yet, either. There were two private bedrooms back there and a bath for Rosalita. Yeah, it was worth the calculated risk.
He found Rosalita squatting with some other women around a small fire they’d built in a metal pan in the middle of the aisle. They were making coffee. He knew peasants were careful with fire, but, damn it, the car had a wooden floor! He hesitated, then decided they’d only do it behind his back if he forbade them to have fires. One of the tricks every officer soon learns is never to give an order that won’t be obeyed. He smiled pleasantly as he sidled between the dangerous little fire and the plush seats. Then he caught Rosalita’s eye. She rose to join him and he said, “Go back to the last car and tell the blond woman I said to give you a bath. You’ll be more comfortable there and I’ll join you later. Tell the guard I posted who you are and—”
“Everyone knows I am your mujer. You smell beautiful! Did that rich puta put perfume on you or did it rub off when you made love to her?”
He laughed and said, “We only went sixty-nine. She says she’s saving her virginity for the right man. Seriously, I want you to keep an eye on her. I don’t want her blowing kisses or dropping notes as we pass through switchpoints, but if I post one of the men back there with her—”
“Ah, you appoint me her guardian?”
“Right. But don’t get carried away with it. She speaks a little Spanish and I think you’ll find her friendly. She’s frightened and wants to stay on the good side of us. Ask her if she has any fresh underwear for you as well as a bath and perfume. Those pants you’re wearing are getting overripe.”
After sending the girl on her way, Captain Gringo moved up to the locomotive. He found the professor at the throttle this time. He nodded to the old man and said, “Slow down just a bit. The map shows an old abandoned mining town just this side of Saltillo. From the way the country is starting to roll, we’re getting close to the Sierra Oriental.”
The professor said, “Of course. We have to cross the mountains to reach the coast.”
“We’re not going to Tampico. If the mine siding is in any shape at all we’re going to pull off this line, wait until well after dark, then double back the way we came.”
“We are? But you’ve told everyone we’re headed for the lowlands around Tampico!”
“I lie a lot. That banker we put off behind us should have made it to a telegraph by now and told them how clever he is. The Rurales are waiting for that blonde and me to walk into the telegraph office in the port of Tampico. The last place they’ll expect us to be headed is right down the throats of pursuing choo-choos.”
“I can see that, but how long can we hope to keep this mad dashing up? In the end, where are we going?”
“Good question. You’re right we can’t spend the rest of our lives playing tag along the rail net. Not unless we don’t intend to grow much older. But we’ve lost the ponies we had and we have to reach heavy cover if we hope to dodge them on foot. The jungles of the lowlands are still our best bet, but there’s a lot of lowland to choose and some razzle-dazzle left to go in getting there. Somebody in headquarters must be sticking pins in a map, trying to plot our next probable moves. By now any second lieutenant should have figured we’re trying to get down off the meseta. So they’ll be rerouting trains to head us off at every pass through the coast ranges. So we double back, avoiding their rail blocks. By the time they have us located again they should be very confused.”
The old man sighed and said, “I know I am. Just where is this false lead intended to make them think we are going?”
“The U.S. border is the last place El Presidente wants us headed for. So if we can kid them into thinking we’re making a run for Laredo—”
“That’s crazy! We’d never reach the Texas border, and if we did, the U.S. Army would be waiting for us there!”
“I know. Makes you wonder about thi
s ever-so-stable government they have down here, doesn’t it?”
For the first time the old man grinned, boyishly, and said, “I see what you mean! I love it! That bastard, Diaz, will be forced once more to inform the outside world of our revolution! They will know in Washington that not everyone down here finds his dictatorship a paradise!”
“Never underestimate the stupidity of those congressmen in Washington, but some of the papers will pick up on it. As to grand strategy, that fat banker let slip that Diaz is trying to sell the Tehuantepec Canal scheme again. Frankly, I don’t think most Americans give a damn about how well you folks get along with El Presidente. But would you buy stock in a canal company offered by a stable government if it didn’t sound all that stable?”
“Fantastic! I see what must be done to further our cause in the lowlands! Hell must be raised in the Tehauntepec peninsula. But how are we to get there? It’s even farther south than Oaxaca, and los federales will have blocked that avenue to us. No?”
“Have you ever watched the old shell game, Professor? We fed them a false clue about Oaxaca. By now they’ve figured we’re not really going there. We should be headed for Tampico. But if we shift the pea under a shell marked Laredo, then double back again—”
“Oh my God, it’s too confusing to follow.”
“That’s the idea. If you’re mixed up, how’d you like to be the officer in command of our pursuit? I don’t know if we can really make it that far south without leaving the rail lines. Irregulars have to play it by ear. But if we can get our people to those southern rain forests alive we’ll be able to raise holy Ned with one of El Presidente’s pet projects.”
The tall American stared out at the passing eroded hills for a time before adding, thoughtfully, “While we’re on the subject of grand strategy, there’s a few questions I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Really? I thought you’d more or less seized command. Not that I have any complaints, for the moment. I’m a politician, not a soldier.”