by James Jones
The rest of me was unmarked. The right-hand chop to the cheekbone had caused no swelling. The left side of my neck was a little sore from the chop to the neck.
I felt I was certainly earning Mr. Kronitis’s retainer and my hundred and fifty dollars a day. I ought to up it to two-fifty.
The worst thing of all was that I didn’t have a murder suspect any more. Chuck was out. So I had to start over. What was left? Jim Kirk. I had Jim Kirk, and this clandestine heroin business that was going on, or seemed to be going on, but never seemed to be more than vaguely alluded to.
I was hoping Pete Gruner could clarify some of that for me. I sat on my porch and rested my poor balls, and waited for him.
He saw me up on the porch when he came by, and waved. But he didn’t come in. He went on to Dmitri’s and took a table, back in the arched, open room. If that was a signal, I respected it. I walked down, gingerly, and took a table in the open-sided room myself. It was empty except for the two of us. Everybody else was outside in the sun. After a minute he slipped over to my table.
“What’s the matter with your balls?” he asked.
“I picked up a dose in Glauros,” I snarled. “Now, let’s cut the funny stuff. What I’m here about is serious. At least, to me.”
“I know it is,” Pete said, and gave me a look.
“You mean you know what’s bugging me?”
“Well, I’ve got a pretty strong suspicion.”
“You figured it out about the girl?”
He moved his head and neck in a way that was not quite a shrug, but was more of a gesture of sympathy. “Well, I didn’t exactly figure it out. I’m not a homicide man. But I made a pretty strong guess.”
“Well, your guess would hit pretty close,” I said, and made a snarly smile. “I won’t go into the details about it. It’s too complicated. And it’d only bore you. But for reasons of my own, I’ve run into a wall. I thought I had a suspect, a good one, but it petered out.
“Well. What I’m interested in right now, is heroin. And what is going on around here about it. I’m pretty sure that something is.”
He looked down at his drink, and turned the glass on the table a while. Finally he looked up and said, “I don’t know anything about any heroin.”
“Okay,” I said. I couldn’t keep a certain bitterness out of my voice. “If that’s how you want to play it.” I started to get up.
“Hold on. Hold on,” Pete said. “Wait a minute. My God, you’re short-tempered. You fly off the handle before they can turn the crank. Just sit down, now.”
“I don’t want to play games,” I said. But I sat back down. “If you don’t want to admit you’re a nark, and tell me what you’re jackassing around after down here, I might as well be on about my business. I know you’re a nark. You know you’re a nark. What the hell? To hell with it.”
“I’ve never said I was a nark,” Pete said. “It’s you who keeps saying it. I deny it.”
“Okay, okay,” I said wearily.
“It’s the truth.”
“Okay.”
“What do you know about heroin around here?” he said.
“I know that Jim Kirk of the Agoraphobe has been toting some H around here, for special clients. Like the old American Ambassador, and a few people at the Construction. It’s supposed to come from Athens. He charges double Athens prices. But he doesn’t seem a pusher. I know that Girgis was not involved, and wouldn’t touch heroin. I know that Kronitis, who owns both their boats, is not involved.” Gruner looked at me sharply. “Or I think I know that,” I added.
He turned his glass some more and pursed his mouth as if in a whistle and thought a little while. “That’s all you know?”
“That’s all I know.”
“That’s all you suspect?”
“I have no reason to suspect anything else.”
“All right,” he said, and tossed off the rest of his drink. “Now, if you’ll shut up and not go off half-cocked and let me just say something—” He motioned the waiter.
“Okay,” I said and scowled. I set my shoulders and jiggled my butt, in a parody of concentrating, and both my side and my testicles hollered at me. “All right. I’m ready. Shoot it.”
“It’s a good thing for you that I’m leaving, or I couldn’t talk to you at all,” he said, and grinned. “Now don’t interrupt. I’m leaving here, probably on the evening flight tonight. That was why I wanted to talk to you.”
“You’ll have Pekouris as a fellow passenger,” I said.
“Fine. I’ve never met him. Now don’t interrupt any more. I’m leaving here and going back to the States. I’m leaving because my mother died. Don’t interrupt. So I wanted to see you. As an old islands hand, not as a nark, I can tell you maybe a little bit that might help you out in what it is you want to do. Which is, presumably, to catch whoever it was who killed Girgis. And probably the girl.” He paused to take a breath. “Okay?”
“Why did you say you were leaving?” I said.
“Because my mother died. I’m going back for the funeral. I may be back here, and I may not.”
“Where did your mother live, in Washington?” I said.
“No.”
“How about Marseille, or Paris?”
“No. She lived in New Hampshire. And that’s where I’m going.”
“Why do they do this to you?” I asked.
He shrugged, and deliberately misread me. “Mothers die. It can’t be avoided. And it’s something that can’t be controlled.”
“So you’re going to just pull out, and just leave me here, with the whole thing in my lap?”
“When your mother dies, you go home. Period.”
“Don’t you even care?”
He grinned. “Sure, I care. When my mother dies. Everybody cares when his mother dies. As for my new boat I told you about, well, I’ll just have to wait. I’ll get a chance at another boat, some other day somewhere else, on some other island.”
“All right,” I said. “All right. What were you going to tell me?”
“Nothing much,” Pete said. “I don’t really know anything to tell you. All I really know, is that I had a nice cushy job lined up on the Polaris, and that I was going into business with Kirk. And then my mother went and died.”
“Sure, sure,” I said. “So?”
“All I really know to tell you, is one little thing. Listen to it. Remember it. Record it. Use it. I won’t tell it again. One piece of information. Keep your eye on that Polaris boat. Keep a close eye on it.” He stopped, and picked up his one of the two fresh drinks the waiter had left us.
“That’s all?” I said irritably.
“That’s all. But it’s important. Or maybe it isn’t important. But that’s all I know. What I suspect is another thing, and I’m not at liberty to discuss that.”
“Because your mother died,” I said.
He ignored me. “My leaving is going to put a moderate-sized hole in the machinery. I was already hired, and I think they were already counting on me. With me gone, somebody else’ll have to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Work on the Polaris.”
“Does Kirk know you’re leaving yet?”
“No. Not yet. I was going to tell him while I was down here. But he’s gone off.”
“And you really don’t care? At all?” I said.
“There’s always another island.”
“Where is Kirk now?”
“If you want to know, I can tell you exactly. He’s gone off up the mountain road on that tiny cycle of his, about two miles up in the hills and off to the right in the woods. And he’s got Sonny Duval’s wife with him. Okay? Enough? I’m waiting around for him.”
I looked around for Sonny. He had gone back on board his big caique, when I left him earlier. I supposed he was still there. I didn’t care where he was.
“And that’s all you’ve got to tell me? Watch the Polaris?”
“That’s all I’ve got,” Pete said, and nodded.
&nb
sp; “Okay.” I got up. “Give my best to your dad when you see him, will you?” I said. “I just hope he doesn’t have to die on your next job.”
“Actually, my father passed away last year.”
“I hope you’ve got enough aunts and uncles for the future,” I said. “Okay. Good luck. I’m sorry you’re running out on me. I’ll be seeing you. In Washington. I’m going into Indian Affairs myself, when I get back.” I started to stick out my hand, but then didn’t. It seemed too much. “So long.”
“Oh, Lobo,” he called after me.
I stopped and turned around.
“I know from experience that if you will buy a jockstrap, smallest size they have, it will help a lot for the first couple of days. But get it small.”
I just looked at him, then gave a small snarl and went on.
“Good luck,” he called. “Keep after it.”
Chapter 48
WATCH THE POLARIS, he’d said. As far as I knew, the Polaris hadn’t stirred from its dock space since Girgis was killed.
Also, I was sure Marie wouldn’t have lied to me about Girgis’s refusing to touch heroin.
But if Watch the Polaris was what he’d said, then Watch the Polaris was what I’d do. I’d do anything, at this stage.
I suddenly had my old mad on at cops again. They were all so damned superior. The only thing they really had going for them, besides the badge and the pension, was their great ability for blindly taking orders. I had failed every obedience test they’d given me since I was a kid.
The idea about the jockstrap was a good one, though. I had to admit it. It irked me that I hadn’t thought of it myself. There was a little Greek notions store not too far beyond the taverna, and I walked down there to buy one. It would save me having to walk, or take Sonny’s boat, into the Port.
When I passed the taverna, Gruner had left. Jim Kirk had ridden up, with Jane Duval on behind, a while before. I assumed Gruner had talked to him and gone. To pack his bag, and catch his plane.
The jockstrap helped a lot, right away, when I got it home and put it on. I was feeling pretty damn good with a drink in my hand when the phone rang. I should have known better.
It was Kronitis.
I had to go through the whole rigmarole. The suspicious male secretary, the old man himself, his arsenal of formal salutations.
“I’m calling to see if you have, uh, made any progress. On our case,” he said at last.
“I’m making some progress,” I said. “I’ve found out that one suspect isn’t the murderer.”
There was a pause. “But you haven’t found out who is the, uh, murderer?” he asked.
“No, sir, I haven’t. But I’ve been doing an awful lot of work. And I’ve been spending a good deal of physical effort and energy.” I thought that was fair to say. “I’ve got a lot more work scheduled to do in the next couple of days.”
His voice got more steely. “I see.”
“You may not know it, Mr. Kronitis,” I said, “but there’s been another murder over here.”
He sounded shocked. “Another one?”
“Yes, sir. That young American girl, the skindiver. She—”
“Oh, I know all about that. The girl who was hit by a boat. The police have declared her death accidental.”
“Well, I think it was murder,” I said. “And I think the same person who killed Girgis killed the girl.”
“Well, I’m sorry about all that,” Kronitis said. “Naturally, I’m sorry the girl was killed. But I’m not interested in the death of this girl. I’m only interested in the killing of Girgis Stourkos. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to terminate our little affair.”
It was my turn to pause. “Has Pekouris been talking to you?” I said sharply.
“Pekouris? The Inspector? No. No, I haven’t spoken to him since the last time I telephoned you, Mr. Davies. No, that’s not what the problem is. The problem is the, uh, tourist season.”
“Well, that’s the ax Pekouris is grinding,” I said.
“The tourist season is of interest to other people. Much bigger than Pekouris.”
That gave me the right to another pause. “I see,” I said finally; I couldn’t think of anything else. What I was wondering was whether I could trust Kronitis or not. I was remembering Gruner’s sharp look when I’d mentioned him.
“So I’m afraid I’m going to have to un-hire you, Mr. Davies. I’m sorry about that. But I’m un-hiring you as of right now. As of this phone call. It’ll do no good to discuss it more.”
“All right, sir,” I said. “If that’s the way you feel. I’ll have my check for your retainer in the mail to you tomorrow. I’ll include a bill for what my services are. You can mail me a check here.”
“No, no,” he said. “No, no. I don’t want the retainer.”
“You’ll be getting it anyway,” I said.
“No, no. That was a calculated risk I took with you, Mr. Davies. We took a gamble together. It didn’t work out. Fine. I lost it fairly and squarely. You are to keep it.”
“I’m sending it back anyway,” I said shortly.
“I insist that you keep it.”
I didn’t answer him.
“Are you planning on leaving the island right away?”
I thought that was a funny question, coming from him. “No. I’m not,” I said. “I thought I’d stick around a while. At least until my vacation is over.”
There was a pause. “All right. I hope we’ll have an opportunity to see each other.” He started in on his interminable signing-off routine. I cut him off.
“Goodbye, Mr. Kronitis. I’m busy as hell,” I said, and hung up.
Screw him. The hell with him. I didn’t want a client who was always trying to back out. Especially when I wasn’t any longer sure I could trust him.
I decided Pete Gruner had told me quite a few things. After all.
So there I was. I looked at the phone. I didn’t give a damn about his money—I stopped myself. That was a lie. I did care about his money. I cared about it a lot. I needed that money, bad. But the worst thing was that now, without him as a client, I didn’t have an official status with the police at all. And he must know that. If that was what Pekouris was working for, he had achieved it. I didn’t believe Kronitis. I thought Pekouris had talked to him a second time.
I went over and sat down to think it over. My side felt hot, and my crotch ached. And now I was out of a job. As soon as I had myself arranged so that I could rest comfortably, the damned phone rang again. This time it was Chantal.
She didn’t waste any time honey-talking me.
“I want to see you. I have to talk to you.” She was using her cold, professional-Countess voice.
“Okay,” I said. “Don’t bite yourself. I’ll be up there later tonight. You’ve got a dinner party somewhere, haven’t you? Is it anything that can’t wait till tonight?”
“Yes. It is. I mean, it can’t wait. I want to see you, and I want to see you right now,” she said.
“Listen. Just cool it. What’s so awful?”
“I don’t want to talk about it over the telephone. And it’s personal.”
I thought it over. I didn’t feel much like going out anywhere. I hadn’t even wanted to go up there later on tonight.
“Okay, I’ll come right up. About half an hour.”
She hung up without saying goodbye. I wondered what that was all about. It couldn’t be because she was complaining about last night. But it had to be more bad news of some kind.
I went over to the lockup closet and unlocked it and got out my locked briefcase, where I kept my New York check book. My secreted evidence, the machete, was still there, leaning against the shelves.
But as I started to write Kronitis his check, it occurred to me there might not be enough money in the New York account to cover it.
I still had his four thousand in cash locked in the briefcase. I hadn’t gotten around to putting it in the bank here.
I put the check book back in the br
iefcase with the cash and locked it and locked the briefcase away with the machete again. I’d have to find some way of getting his own cash back to him.
I put the key in my pocket and got ready to leave and went outside and waved to a horsecab by the taverna. I didn’t feel up to hiking up the hill to Chantal’s on foot.
Chapter 49
SHE WAS WAITING ON the upper patio, and she didn’t waste any time on amenities or love talk.
“The police have declared Marie’s death accidental.”
“I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t change my ideas about it any.”
“Nothing changes your ideas about much of anything easily, does it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It depends on the idea. And on the thing. About Marie there’s no question, in my mind. The police are wrong. But surely that’s not what you called me up here to talk about, is it?”
“In a way, it was,” she said thinly. “And another way not. I was hoping the police report would make you get off this murder thing you’re on.”
“Not a chance,” I said.
“I might have known that,” Chantal said. She made a sort of bitchy face. “Anyway.” She took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Anyway, I called you up here because I want to tell you that I’m terminating your employment for me.”
“You’re what!”
“Well, I’m firing you,” she said, and blushed. “If you want it bluntly. I don’t want you to work for me any more.”
“Were you under the impression that I was working for you?” I said.
“Yes. You were, weren’t you? But now the police have closed Girgis’s case, as unsolved. Marie’s death has been declared accidental. So I’ve decided to forget the whole thing. Girgis is dead. Nobody is blackmailing me now. I don’t need your services any more. I want you to pack up and leave, get off the island; go away, and stay away, and not come back. You’re nothing but trouble here now with your ‘investigations.’ For everybody.”
I studied her. We had been slowly moving across the patio toward the house. “Do you mind if I get myself a drink first? Before I pack?” I said.
I turned and went inside into the living room and straight to the bar. It was only when I had a whisky in my hand that I turned around, and saw that the portrait of the young Chantal was gone from its place.
