by Lou Cameron
~*~
All the guests the police could find on the premises were herded into the downstairs dining room for questioning. Captain Gringo and Gaston chose a corner table so they were able to listen in as a rather officious fat police captain took earlier statements from the staff and guests. It was a break, in a way, that the puffed up little bastard seemed to suspect everybody.
He really gave the maid who’d discovered the bodies a hard time. Captain Gringo had wondered what the hell she’d unlocked the door for at that hour, too, but he could see she was a simple peon girl and her story made sense, to him.
The maid said she’d been sent up to La Señora’s room to return an earring the busboy here in the dining room had found when they were cleaning up. She said Nan had mentioned losing it at the desk, so when an earring answering the description was found, she’d gone up with it. She’d knocked and, getting no answer, assumed La Señora was out. She’d unlocked the door with her pass key to put it on the dresser. The rest was hysterical history.
The police captain couldn’t seem to understand this, or maybe he enjoyed seeing the girl cry. She was sort of pretty as well as simple. Some grim-lipped guys wearing American haircuts and linen suits came in as the police were badgering the maid. They said something to the police captain, who pointed at the girl and said, “It is true two of your people were murdered here tonight, Señor Consulado. But I think we have the murderess, here.”
The peon girl wailed and covered her face with her apron. One of the Americans, to his credit, looked dubiously at her and asked the cop why he thought she’d done the deed.
The cop repeated her story in a sarcastic tone, adding, “She lies, of course. The tale of missing jewelry was simply an excuse to let herself into the poor woman’s room. When La Señora surprised her in the act, she killed her and then her husband and—”
“Bullshit,” said Captain Gringo, rising to his feet as Gaston tugged at his sleeve and muttered, “For God’s sake, Dick!”
The tall American knew Gaston was right, but enough was enough, and he knew sooner or later they’d connect him with having dinner here with the dead Americans in any case. So he advanced on the guns by stepping over beside the maid and saying, “Look at the size of this kid. Look at her clean apron. Does she look like she just cut up two grown adults with a knife?”
The cop said, “Only the American woman was stabbed. The man died of a broken neck.” Then, as Captain Gringo grinned at him, the cop saw how dumb he’d been talking, and blustered, “Who are you? Are you a detective?”
Captain Gringo felt pretty slick about that deliberate mistake about the cause of death, but he was painfully aware of the Americans from the consulate staring at him as he shook his head and said, “No, my name is Marvin. Major Richard Marvin, Retired. I knew the Gordons. Had coffee with them in this very room tonight, as a matter of fact, and I do remember poor Nancy mentioning a missing earring.” He turned to the maid and asked her, “Do you have it, señorita?”
The maid shot him a grateful look and took a small piece of costume jewelry from her apron’s pocket. The cop took it from her with a scowl and said, “I am impounding this as evidence.”
Captain Gringo looked at one of the other Americans, turned to the police captain, and said, “Bullshit. That’s American property, sonny! I told you I was with the Gordons earlier this evening and I remember she was wearing earrings like that. If you think this girl stole it, why don’t you ask the busboy if he really found it?”
A timid looking Negro stepped forward and said, “Es verdad, señores! I, Gomez, found it under that table over there when I changed the linens. I gave it to Rosario at the desk, who gave it to Camelia, here!”
“In that case you are a suspect, too!” snapped the police captain. Captain Gringo sidled up to the American consulate man who looked most disgusted and murmured, “I don’t know about you guys, but this moron is sure throwing his weight around and he’s pretty stupid, besides. Don’t we have anybody at the consulate who we could turn this investigation over to?”
The American nodded and said, “Great minds run in the same channels. I remember you, now. Gordon mentioned running into you down here. What’s the score? Military Intelligence?”
“Let’s say I’m just a retired officer, officially.”
“Oh, right, lots of majors retire young as you. I know the rules of the game, Major Marvin. Who do you think assassinated Bruce Gordon?”
Captain Gringo shrugged and said, “Beats me. I didn’t ask him what he and old Nan were doing down here, either. They probably weren’t after her, poor thing, but you’d know more than me about what they might have been after.”
The one he was talking to suddenly paled, turned to his companion and snapped, “Jesus, I just remembered! He left the consulate tonight with dispatches! Go up and check his room, Simmons!”
The other man nodded grimly, and started to elbow his way for the stairs. The police captain protested, “See here, I am conducting this investigation, señores!”
The boss from the consulate smiled grimly across his bows at Captain Gringo as he said, “Like the man says, bullshit. You and your cops just run along, okay? The man they murdered was a diplomatic courier on a mission for both our countries. If you want to keep your dumb little country, you’d better stand aside and let the big boys do it right!”
“I am insulted!” protested the officious little cop. The bigger American snapped, “Oh, shut up and go play with your jacks. You’ve already fucked around enough. If you get in our way again I’ll call El Presidente Crespo long distance and have you cutting sugar cane by this time mañana!”
“But señor—”
“But me no buts. Just butt out,” snapped the American. He nodded at the frightened maid and said, “You can go back to your duties, Miss. The U.S. Government thanks you for your co-operation and we’ll call on you if we have any further questions. Marvin, what can you tell us about this mess? You were here when it happened, right?”
“Wrong. I met them here in this room, earlier. I met Bruce outside, later, as he was on his way to the consulate. I just got back to the hotel a few moments ago. So they must have been dead when I passed their door. Sort of spooky, now that I think of it.”
The man who’d run upstairs ran back to rejoin them, saying, “It’s gone. They tried to make it look like robbery, but they must have been after his diplomatic pouch like you figured, Chief. They haven’t moved the bodies, yet. I’d say they were killed a couple of hours ago if I remember my last war right.”
The boss from the consulate nodded at Captain Gringo and said, “Okay, I didn’t think you did it anyway. But I’m going to have to write some reports and for the record, it might look better if we could be neater in pinning down the time you came back. Did you pick up your key at the desk, Marvin?”
“No, damn it. I had it in my pocket. But somebody must have seen me in the lobby.”
The little maid touched the suspicious consulate man’s sleeve shyly and said, “Por favor, señor. I remember this señor and his friend coming up the stairs just as I was about to go to the room with the dead people in it.”
Captain Gringo didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss her or kick her. The two American diplomats looked past him at Gaston. The one in obvious command said, “That’s that then. Is this other gent with you, Major Marvin?”
Captain Gringo tried to look sneaky as he winked and said, “M’sieu DuVal is, uh, with the French. Get it?”
“Oh, right. Heard the French were offering to act as go betweens down here. One hand washes the other and we don’t need a statement from him in any case. It looks like that goddamn Greystoke wants to read other people’s mail pretty bad.”
Captain Gringo nodded and scored another goal by saying, “Yeah, I heard British Intelligence plays pretty rough.”
“Oh, you know who Greystoke is?”
“Sure, doesn’t everybody?”
The consulate man smiled thinly and said, “Yeah,
you’re with Army G2, all right, but nobody will hear it from us. Is there anything State can help you with, unofficially, of course?”
Captain Gringo started to shake his head. Then he decided to go for broke while the dice seemed hotter than usual. He said, “Well, I don’t know if I ought to tell you this, but I had a reason for looking up Bruce when I heard he was down here. We’re neighbors up in Fairfax County, you know. But asking a friend is one thing. I wouldn’t want to put you boys in a spot.”
“Hey, Bruce was our friend, too! What were you two working on?”
“I think Greystoke and the Brits may have gotten a line on my cover. I guess I don’t have to tell a pro like you my name’s not really Marvin, right?”
“Of course not. Only sissies put their right names down on travel visas. Was Bruce going to get you some new identity papers from us?”
“Well, he said he’d try.”
“Hell, Major, that’s no problem. Drop by the consulate in the morning and we’ll rubber stamp you off the Brit’s organizational charts. I’m getting tired of that Limey bastard making problems for our agents, too!”
~*~
It started to rain just after midnight. As the sun came up it was coming down cats and dogs and the river was rising, too. The soggy ground the town stilt-walked across vanished under ankle deep water, brushed silver by wind and rain. Gaston had been thinking about their hidden boat upstream. With the visibility on the river so lousy it seemed like a good time to run their stolen arms into town. But with the jungle trails under water, it seemed impossible to get back to where they’d hidden the launch. He suggested taking a couple of his local confederate’s peons to fetch the launch while Captain Gringo fetched their new documentation from the consulate across town. Captain Gringo pointed out that nobody was likely to stumble over the hidden cove in this kind of weather unless they were part duck. Meanwhile, Gaston said he’d go over to the waterfront and see if he could find any customers. He didn’t want to hang around the hotel while the killings were under investigation and he most certainly didn’t feel up to entering the U.S. Consulate with or without Captain Gringo. It was Gaston’s considered opinion that his younger friend should quit while he was ahead. “You are sticking your head into the jaws of the lion,” Gaston insisted. Captain Gringo smiled crookedly and remarked, “The British consulate would be the lion’s jaws. I think I’m going into the eagle’s nest. I know it’s risky, but so would ignoring the offer. Those guys are expecting me to show. They’ll wonder why if I don’t.”
Gaston grimaced. “I tried to shut you up last night. Why on earth did you ask them for forged papers in the first place, Dick? Don’t you know they have a cable connection to Washington?”
“Sure I do. And they’ll use it faster, if they get suspicious! I told them I was travelling under a false I.D., so they have no name to check on. Frankly, I figured they’d brush me off when I said I’d asked Gordon for help from State. How the hell was I to know they’d lose sight of interservice rivalry with the Brits about to invade? We’ve never had a big war in my time. Army’s never been able to get shit out of State before.”
“Oui, that sounds like my old government, Dick. But I still don’t see why you asked any favors in the first place.”
“Hell, they knew I’d been cozy with the Gordons. What the hell was I supposed to tell them I wanted?—A piece of Nancy’s tail? The girl was screwing around. Somebody at the consulate’s going to remember that as they run out of leads. I don’t want them wondering how well I knew her. I want them to think of me as his old Washington buddy, see?”
Gaston shrugged and said, “Oui, one can see the advantages of glossing over one’s knowledge of the lady’s alarming appetites. But all this sudden familiarity with a government that wishes to hang you is making me trés nervous. Listen, Dick, if we sloshed our merry way back to the launch and simply, as you say, lit out—”
“Oh, shit, Gaston, where would we go? We don’t know our way around this delta in the first place and it’s crawling with opposing gunboats in the second. Our best bet is to sell the arms, take the money, and run. We can board any damned boat out with the papers I’ll be picking up.”
“Assuming it is not a trap, you mean.”
Captain Gringo thought that over before he shook his head and said, “I doubt that. They had the hotel crawling with cops last night if they’d wanted to arrest us. They couldn’t have suspected a thing.”
“Perhaps not, in the first act of this drama, my old and rare, but consider that they’ve had all night to reconsider and this dawn is cold and gray indeed. Our Yankee friends were in a flap over the missing papers and had a mental picture of the secret agents they suspected. But by now they must be reconsidering their options, since nobody has been arrested in or around the town, hein?”
Captain Gringo started to say it seemed obvious the secret agents or whatever had run off into the surrounding swamps. But Gaston had a point. He’d done some military police thinking in his time. So he knew that when the obvious leads failed to pan out, the routine called for going back over everybody’s story again, as many times as need be.
Gringo said, “That little maid seems to think we came in together. So, where the hell were we last night?”
Gaston said, “One could hardly tell the truth. Why don’t we say we were at El Gato Negro?”
“Swell. What’s El Gato Negro?”
“Cantina cum whorehouse. The largest such establishment in town. As I recall, you had a wonderful time with Lolita, or was it Conchita?”
The American started to object. Then he nodded and said, “Right. Nobody would say he’d spent the night whoring unless he had it sort of forced out of him. I’ll go with you as far as the waterfront and you can show me where I got in so much trouble. I’d be up shit creek if I couldn’t describe the place. Is it open at this hour?”
“Oui, El Gato Negro never closes. Maybe, this time, well really screw somebody, non?”
Captain Gringo couldn’t think of a thing he needed less, right now, than a roll in the sack with some down at the heels waterfront whore. But what the hell, they could kid around with the girls and buy a few drinks in case anyone ever asked if they remembered them.
They left the Flamingo to walk, or wade, toward the waterfront over the high cat walks serving as sidewalks in the delta town. Most of the walkways had awnings or corrugated overhangs, but they still got soaked by the time Gaston dragged Captain Gringo into what looked like a big red barn on stilts and announced, “Regardez, the hub of Tucupita’s social whirl. Trés chic, non?”
The cavernous interior was dark and dank as the hold of Noah’s Ark and smelled sort of like a zoo, too. The air reeked of tobacco, marijuana, cheap rum, vomited rum, and unwashed cunt. The dance floor was covered with sawdust as damp and rotten as jungle mold. There were empty tables around three walls. The third wall was covered with filthy pictures behind a long plank bar. A trio of bedraggled whores in short fandango skirts lounged dully against the bar. As the two men walked over to join them, Captain Gringo was hard pressed to decide which was the ugliest. The bleached blond with Indian features was built like a nail keg. The Negress next to her had a nice figure, but her face was scarred by smallpox and the armies that had marched over her. The one with European features and black hair, gray at the roots, might have been pretty, thirty or forty years back. She looked like a Halloween witch dressed up like a Spanish dancer for some odd reason.
Captain Gringo nodded to the mulatto barkeeper and ordered drinks for everybody. Then he nudged Gaston and muttered, in English, “Where are the cribs? Upstairs or out back?”
“Are you serious, Dick? I’d rather make love to a reasonably clean pig.”
“That makes two of us, but I might want to brag a little about the nicer one I met last night. Where the fuck did I take her?”
“Out back. And if you fucked anybody from around here, stay away from me. I have heard one can catch a dose from the seat of a toilet, hein?”
&n
bsp; The thick-waisted Indian girl came over to link her arm through Captain Gringo’s as the barkeeper served her colored water. She smiled, exposing a gold tooth, and said, “Hey, you are most generous. But you look like a brute to me. Do you like for to make brutal love, handsome one?”
“Not this early.” He sighed, adding, “We just dropped by for a drink. Maybe we’ll come back later, when it livens up a bit, eh?”
The whore shrugged and said, “I am better before I have been had by anyone. But ask for me anyway. I am called Goldy Locks, and, for a friend, I can be persuaded to take it all three ways.”
The black girl sipped her own sucker-drink and confided, “Hey, don’t listen to her, handsome. Ask for me, Ebonia. I am the only girl here that a man does not have to tie a board across his ass for to avoid falling in.”
Goldy Locks looked at her listlessly and said, “It is true you have a tight pussy. It is all filled with scabs from the loathsome illness your father gave you.”
Ebonia poured her drink down the front of Goldy Locks with an amazing lack of enthusiasm as she said, in a bored tone, “At least I had a father, you filthy little Indian. Your mother was too ugly for any man to trifle with, so she had you by a crocodile, who later died for shame.”
The barkeeper stared at the darkness overhead as he muttered, “Hey, ladies, let’s not fight, eh?” and Gaston said, “I think we’ve seen this floorshow before, non?” He turned as the older of the trio was reaching for his hip pocket and chided, “I don’t keep my money there, M’selle, but it was a nice try. Shall we go, Dick?”
Captain Gringo nodded and they headed for the door as, behind them, one of the whores called, wistfully, “Hey, caballeros, come back and we’ll be good, eh?”
“Gee, that sure was a neat place, Gaston,” Captain Gringo said as they got outside. Then he asked, “What the hell were you and I doing in there last night, anyway?”
Gaston shrugged and replied, “It is a good place to do business. Who watches the tables when the whores are dancing naked on the bar, hein?”