by Lou Cameron
“Let’s go!” said Captain Gringo, gripping his cigar in his teeth as he vaulted over the tailgate to land running on the dark dirt street behind. Gaston didn’t hesitate to follow him, but as they ducked behind a clump of roadside pepper trees the little Frenchman stared wistfully after the rapidly vanishing wagon and muttered, “Merde alors, I don’t know why I always listen to you.”
Then, a block away, the wagon bed they’d just vacated vanished in a big balloon of sun-bright flame, and they’d have still been too close had not the corky tree trunks between them and the explosion absorbed a lot of the shock wave and flying splinters!
As the echo-haunted night grew dark around them again, Gaston said soberly, “Now I know why I listen to you. Mais who do you listen to, Dick?”
“The hairs on the back of my neck. Let’s get out of here before the cops show up. I’ve got enough to explain to them right now, and I can’t wait to hear how Maureen explains that time bomb when we show up alive as well as unexpected!”
Neither Captain Gringo nor the turnkey who’d admired his double-action .38 too much to give it back to him would know, for a while, how the petty thievery had saved the pissed-off American’s life. So Captain Gringo was still cursing the entire San José P.D. as he and Gaston had to go far out of their way to pick up a replacement.
Finding an all-night marketplace was no problem in a tropic town inhabited by natural night people. But finding someone who sold guns instead of food, drink, or cheap presents for La Señorita of the moment was. Captain Gringo was afraid they’d have to go all the way to the thieves’ market near the railroad depot in the end. But old Gaston knew how to ask the right questions, and a kid with a lot of ambition and no steady job finally led them down a dark alley where an old lady with a moustache sold just about anything, including witch waters, from her back door.
They showed her Gaston’s revolver. She cackled at them, dug through the fire hazard she maintained in her unlicensed place of shady business, and finally produced a Harrington & Richardson .32 with its nickel plate chipped and its front sight missing. But the action seemed okay and there was nothing more serious than rust in the barrel. Better yet, she had a couple of mildewed boxes of ammo that fit. So Captain Gringo bought it, even though a .32 slug was more likely to insult that stop a serious enemy. His jailers hadn’t kept his gun rig, of course, since most Latins preferred to display hardware on their hips. The battered H&R was a little small for his shoulder holster as well as for stopping a cavalry charge. But it probably wouldn’t fall out as long as he kept the restraining strap snapped over the grips. A guy packing a .32 whore pistol had to think very seriously before he drew on anyone in any case.
Gaston had been thinking seriously ever since they’d bailed out of that wagon just in time. So back at the main if ill-lit part of the market he insisted on some serious sit-down talk before they burst in on Maureen and company for some explanations. As they sipped cerveza at a little blue table in one corner of a smoke-filled but uncrowded cantina, Gaston said, “In my time I have sucked a lot of snake oil sold to me by très treacherous cocksuckers, Dick. But no matter how I try to make the pieces fit, I can’t see Maureen or even her ugly butler as the cocksucker who slipped a time bomb into that adorable wagon, hein?”
Captain Gringo shrugged and said, “I’m in no position to know if the butler sucks cock or not. But I couldn’t help noticing Maureen worked awfully hard, from the beginning, to keep us with her, but too far apart to compare notes. So now that we can, maybe you’d better begin at the beginning. How in the hell did I wind up with such a yummy-looking lawyer in the first place? You never mentioned any kind of she-male lawyer before, and I thought you knew all the rogues, as you call them, in San José.”
Gaston nodded and said, “Oui. When I heard you had been arrested I most naturally went to the Calle San Pilar near the cathedral, where all those lawyers and bail bondsmen maintain offices above the street-level shops. I meant to retain Verdugo for you. You may not know him, mais he got me out of a très tedious paternity suit some time ago.”
“Verdugo sounds like my kind of mouthpiece. So how did we wind up with a dame you didn’t know?”
“It was soup of the duck. By the time I and no doubt everyone else in town heard you were in durance vile the damned siesta had set in. I was banging on Verdugo’s door, cursing him for a lazy species of businessman, even for Costa Rica, when our adorable Irish lass popped around the corner and asked if she could be of any service. I told her I needed a good lawyer, muy pronto, and she told me she was a member of the bar. Now you know as much about her as I do.”
“Jesus, you took her at her word, without seeing an office door or even a business card, for chrissake?”
“Merde alors, she got you out, did she not? When one considers she asked for no retainer and put up your bail money herself, we got a better deal than Verdugo would have given us, you ungrateful child!”
Captain Gringo sipped some beer as he digested that. Then he nodded but said, “Okay, somebody who wanted us dead had some money to invest. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve run into that. They knew I was in the can. They knew you’d be in that neighborhood looking for a lawyer—”
“And you are still thinking with your asshole instead of your head!” Gaston cut in, adding, “It would have been far cheaper to bribe a guard to kill you while you were helpless and alone in your cell. If we assume they wanted to dispose of you in a more discreet fashion, you were alone in that guest room, unarmed and fast asleep, when Maureen unlocked the door with her own key. Eh bien, did she murder you in bed?”
Captain Gringo grinned wryly and said, “Not exactly. But I’m sure she didn’t want to let us get away before that booby-trapped wagon showed up.”
“Sacre goddamn, that is obvious, but not too mysterious, Dick. She said she’d been paid to recruit us for the Segovian junta and they would have no use for us if there was not another side, hein?”
“You mean El Viejo del Montaña might have agents this far from his mountain stronghold? That doesn’t sound like your average peon bandito to me!”
“Merde alors, if the old assassin was not a serious assassin the Segovian Army would not have to hire outside help! The butler who led us out to the alley betrayed no nervousness as he stood by the ticking of tocks or the smoldering of a slow, mais not that slow fuse! The driver très obviously had no idea his wagon was about to turn into sudden kindling wood under his unfortunate ass, and both of them worked for Maureen and her side, non?”
Captain Gringo finished his beer, stood up, and dropped some coins on the table as he said, “Okay, but to plant that bomb the other side has to have some spies inside Maureen’s organization. So let’s go talk to her about it.”
They would have, and Maureen might have been able to give them some vital information, had they ever seen her alive again. But as they headed for her place and got to within less than three blocks, the skyline ahead lit up as if the tropic sun had decided to rise fast as well as early. Then the sonic boom swept down the street to shatter windows, peel roof tiles, and generally scare the shit out of everyone in that quarter of San José!
As the echoes of the thunderous explosion faded away, to be replaced by the screams of chickens and the cackle of women from the housing all around them, Gaston took Captain Gringo’s arm and sighed, “Eh bien, let us march the other way, tout de suite!”
Captain Gringo shook his head, shrugged Gaston off, and kept going the same way, growling, “We could be wrong. It might have been another casa they just aimed at the stars, or there could still be some survivors who need help!”
As they swung a corner they saw the calle ahead was crowded. The milling neighborhood folk were outlined by a solid wall of flame rising from the knee-high foundations of Maureen’s house. The houses on either side weren’t in much better shape, although the fire hadn’t spread to the wreckage yet.
As the tall American kept going, Gaston insisted, “It’s no use, Dick! Nobody cou
ld have survived an explosion like that and the police, if not the whole national guard, will be arriving any moment now!”
Captain Gringo grunted, “So what? We didn’t do it, and I hear a kid screaming somewhere!”
He bulled through the crowd, who didn’t seem to know what to do about the anguished wails coming from the ruins of the house next door to Maureen’s. Gaston called him a species of heroic fool, but followed as the big Yank climbed aboard the pile of bricks and heavy timbers, shouting, “Where are you, muchacho? Are you really hurt or just a sissy?”
A small scared voice called back from under the pile, “I am not a sissy, damn your mother’s milk, but I think my arm is broken and I can’t move my legs at all! Who are you? What happened? Where are my parents and Tía Juanita?”
Captain Gringo answered in meaningless reassurances, now that he had a line on where the kid might be. He could feel the heat from the soaring flames next door on his cheek. He grabbed the end of a gritty timber and heaved. Captain Gringo was big and strong, but the wreckage just didn’t want to budge, even when Gaston tried to help.
But a Costa Rican crowd was much like any other, once someone showed some leadership. So men, and even some women who’d just been standing there, confused, crawled gingerly up on the wreckage to pitch in, now that Captain Gringo had shown them what had to be done. He grunted, “Easy, now!” as the timber he had hold of began to shift, thanks to so many helping hands. Gaston let go to squat and peer under the debris, shouting, “Slowly, slowly, do not shift too much until we see what we are shifting and ... Ah, regardez, I see the dusty hair of the most annoying child!”
He was wrong. As they freed the first body it turned out to be that of a young woman who’d probably been a lot prettier before a house caved in on her. Costa Rican hands carried her gently out to the walk where a sobbing señorita could cover her crushed face with an expensive mantilla she’d probably never want to wear over her own head again. Somewhere down in the brick and plaster dust the kid who was still alive was still calling for help, in a voice that seemed weaker now.
They got him out just as the ambulance wagon and a Black Maria full of cops pulled up out front. The kid was about eight or nine and needed an ambulance bad. But the guys strapping him to the litter said he’d probably live. So everyone cheered and Gaston nudged Captain Gringo to murmur, “Eh bien, let us be on our way before those adorable police notice your blond hair and ask you where you have it done, hein?”
Captain Gringo ignored him and shouted, “All right, everyone, pay attention! The boy said his parents and an aunt were in this casa with him. That dead woman over there may have been his mother or his aunt, but she couldn’t have been both! So we’ve still got one mujer and one hombre to get out of here. Meanwhile, somebody ought to be doing something about those flames next door. Doesn’t anyone on this calle own a bucket, for God’s sake?”
One of the neighborhood youths who’d been helping Captain Gringo shift debris up to now shouted, “Tico, Pablo, Rosario, follow me! This Anglo is right! We must organize a bucket brigade for to put out that fire before it burns down our whole barrio!”
Seeing he had that worry taken care of, Captain Gringo turned back to the task at hand. But before he could move anything important the sergeant in command of the police squad climbed up on the debris with him, saluted, and asked what he and his men could do to help.
Captain Gringo said, “There’s another house on the far side that’s in almost as bad shape, sergeant. These neighborhood guys with me can handle these ruins, but you’d better check to see if anyone needs help over there.”
As the sergeant saluted again and took off, yelling to his men to follow, Gaston gasped incredulously and said in English, “I can’t believe this! You are out on bail, yet you order the police about as if you were in charge of them?”
“They probably think I am. Let’s get with it, Gaston. We’re not finished here until we account for everyone under all this shit!”
In the end, they did. It wasn’t easy and everyone was covered with sweat, soot, and plaster dust before they had the last body stretched out on the walk just before dawn. Nobody but the young boy had survived the tremendous explosion. The police had dug four corpses out of the other house and though the neighborhood kids had doused the fire in the middle by that time, nobody was up to digging through the soggy ashes to see what was left of Maureen and her house servants.
More important or at least more officious big shots had arrived on the scene to shout pointless orders by the time all the important work had been done. So Captain Gringo was seated on a curb with Gaston, drinking water left over by the bucket brigade, as the sky began to pearl to the east.
Gaston was thirsty, too. But as he put the bucket between his feet in the gutter,” he said, “Eh bien, so much for that. May I make a modest suggestion that we haul our fatigued derrières out of here now? This mood of camaraderie is no doubt natural at a time like this, mais too good to last!”
Captain Gringo lit a claro wearily and said, “You’re probably right, for a change. The night is shot, but we might catch a few winks at your place before that other lawyer, Verdugo, opens for business, eh?”
“Merde alors, haven’t you had enough excitement for now, Dick? If they knew where Maureen lived, they know where I usually hang my hat as well. The first thing we need is a new address. That is no problem for two handsome brutes with a little pocket money. But what on earth do you need with a lawyer now? I love you too much to let them hang you, so if you go anywhere near the courtroom to answer a murder charge I swear I’ll turn you over my knee and give you a good spanking!”
Captain Gringo chuckled dryly and said, “I’d deserve a spanking if I did anything that dumb. I’m not about to turn myself back in, now that I’m out. But I do remember Verdugo by rep, and he is a pretty good fixer, right?”
“Oui, but there are fixes one can fix and there are fixes the local law takes très seriously, Dick. I don’t see how even Verdugo can repair the damage you and your grotesque cock did to a deputy’s wife!”
“I do, and we need at least one country we’re not wanted in as a base of operations. So we’d better get cleaned up and clear headed before I have that chat with the fixer.”
“I know a dozen places we can stay in the meantime, with or without hot and cold running girls. I can’t wait to hear you and Verdugo talk your way out of more serious problems. But if you can, that will be the end of this whole distressing business, non?”
“Non. Once I clear myself with Costa Rica we still have to get up to Segovia, sort of sneaky.”
Gaston blinked and demanded, “For God’s sake, why? We took no front money and signed no contract, Dick. Has it not occurred to you yet that someone on the other side plays très rough?”
“I play rough, too, and they just killed a pretty girl who gave fantastic head. Meanwhile, both sides have good reason to think we won’t be arriving on schedule. So as soon as we tidy up here in Costa Rica I mean to drop by Segovia and see who seems most surprised to see me. You don’t have to come with me if it’s too big a boo for you, Gaston. I agree it’s a can of hissing snakes and that I’m probably being stupid.”
Gaston sighed and said, “There is no argument about the whole idea being stupid. But I’ll never get any sleep unless I see how it all turns out, hein?”
Lawyer Verdugo was a bluff, friendly fat man who looked as lazy as his office hours would indicate. But Captain Gringo felt better about him when he said there was no point in Gaston sneaking over to the depot for train tickets while Captain Gringo discussed the deputy’s late wife with him. Verdugo opened a desk drawer and pulled out a pair of railroad passes, explaining, “These will enable you to ride a freight train rather than the usual passenger train down to Limón, señores. You would be surprised how often I have a client who wishes for to get out of town for a time discreetly.”
Captain Gringo smiled and said he wasn’t that surprised. Then he asked more soberly how much all
of this was going to cost him.
The fat Costa Rican opened another drawer, got out a typed-up form, and placed it on the desk blotter between them, saying, “I am not a greedy man, Captain Gringo. If you would be good enough for to sign this, where I have penciled the X, we could consider the distressing matter of money closed and get down to more serious details, eh?”
“What is it, a deal where you get my immortal soul after seven years?”
Verdugo laughed and said, “Nothing quite so diabolic, I assure you. This is simply a release form, allowing me to recover the funds posted for your bail once the matter has been settled, see?”
Captain Gringo did. He shot a dirty look at Gaston, who just shrugged and said, “Eh bien, I told you he was très sneaky, Dick.”
Captain Gringo sighed and said, “Well, I don’t see how an honest man could get me off less expensively. Where do I … Oh, yeah, I see the X. But how are you going to get around the simple fact that another lawyer posted my bond, Verdugo?”
As he signed, Verdugo assured him, “A mere detail, when one is willing to share one’s good fortune modestly with the court clerk. The fund would be of small comfort to a dead woman in any case, no?”
“I guess not. But she was fronting for others, and her friends might not like this, amigo.”
“Piffle. I have friends in Costa Rica, too. That is for why Gaston brought you to me. Bueno. I have your signature and you have your freedom. The next freight leaves around noon. I’m afraid I can’t help you with steamer tickets. My, ah, influence does not extend as far as the coast. But I’m sure you two know how to approach a steamboat purser, no?”
Gaston nodded and started to rise. But Captain Gringo stopped him and said, “Hold it. Just how do you intend to clear the matter up, Verdugo? No offense, but if I just wanted to jump bail and let it all hang fire I wouldn’t need such an expensive fixer!”
