“I am in deep shit,” he said as he drew near to us, still grinning like a possum.
“What’s up, Gearheardt?” I asked. I assumed he was just pulling our chain. He had a knack for making problems seem small by inventing large ones.
“I must have pissed off the Russians,” Gearheardt said. He pecked Marta on the cheek and patted my shoulder. He was dressed in the blazer that he stole from me, khaki slacks, topped with a tan trench coat, British military style. His blue pinstriped shirt set off a brilliant red tie. “The Pygmy tells me they’ve imported a sniper that can pick the condom off a gnat’s pecker at five hundred yards.”
I tried not to concern myself with his metaphor because I knew that’s what he wanted me to do. “I don’t get it. What are the Russians upset about? Not that I doubt you could piss them off easily enough.”
“I think someone tipped them off to my plan to blame them for helping the Cubans assassinate the Mexican president.”
“So they’re going to shoot you?”
“I think they’re going to shoot you, Jack. Why would they want me?”
I still had the feeling that he was making all this up to cover up some really bad news. “Speaking of people shooting me, did you talk to the Pygmy about him not shooting me? I think that’s the order of the day. I hate it when midgets are trying to kill me.” I laughed tentatively. “So did you talk to him? It’s just a misunderstanding, right?”
“I talked to him, Jack. And I really think he is considering not killing you. He has to weigh it against his other commitments, completing the mission without casting undue suspicion on himself, things like that. Remember this is his overall mission. I think you can assume that he will rate completing the mission more important than taking out a CIA agent who is working for the opposition.”
“But I’m not working for the opposition, you nincompoop. I’m working for you. You got me into this.” Marta rose from where she had been listening. She took my arm, evidently concerned that I was about to strangle Gearheardt.
“You should have nothing to worry about then, Jack,” Gearheardt said. “So how did it go with Victor today? Did we recruit him to be our assassin?”
“It went very well, Pepe. Jack was brilliant in his speech. I am sure by now that Victor is telling Havana that the CIA is backing up Cuba. I hope they will be convinced of the truth.” She squeezed my arm, smiling at Gearheardt. “What is gnat pecker?”
“Never goddamned mind what a gnats pecker is. Pepe, you got some ‘splaining to do. As far as I know I have a pygmy after my ass, and now a Russian assassin is on the ‘shoot Jack’ team. Let’s head someplace and go over all this. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have all the nswers.”
“Fair enough, Jack. And I think technically the Russian is a Ukrainian. Wears glasses now so he may not be worth a damn as a shot anymore. I don’t think they thought you were important enough to fly over one of their top men. This guy is retired here.” He took Marta’s arm and began guiding her through the thinning crowd to where a car was waiting at the curb.
We were at Gearheardt’s ‘pad’ in less than ten minutes. He was living in Chapultepec Castle.
Up the drive from Paseo de la Reforma we could see the fortress with its turrets, the largest in the center of the palatial structure. Massive cypress trees filled the terraced landscape.
We were greeted by servants dressed in costumes from Maximilian’s time. Inside the castle, the very best of extravagant European luxury was evident in every detail.
“I got tired of the El Diablo Motel,” Gearheardt said. He was leading Marta and me up the magnificent red-carpeted winding staircase. “I figured since no one was living here, a few bucks spread around the right places could give me temporary shelter.” He threw open large double doors. “I thought you might like this, Marta. This was Carlotta’s bedroom. The Empress of Mexico. Went mad I think. But she had a bathroom you’ll like.”
We looked inside the room where Gearheardt pointed. A huge marble tub, green chaise lounges on each side. Opulent. Marta stepped back to the bedroom and lay down on the gold bed. A gold chandelier hung high overhead.
“You would have thought they could afford a mirror on that ceiling, but different strokes for different folks,” Gearheardt said. He plopped down on a blue velvet chair and I took the matching one. “Jack, don’t think I’m taking your problems lightly. You’re my brother.” He lit a cigarette and after searching around, finally dropped the match into an urn. “First, bring me up to date. We’re approaching ‘go-no go’ time and I need to let some folks know what’s up. Remember, you just have to get you and Victor in place. I’ll take it from there. Wham Bam, you’re in Havana. Marta will take care of you. And your instructions will be crystal clear. So what’s with Victor and Crenshaw?”
I filled him in on my meeting with Victor. Gearheardt was ecstatic. Couldn’t have gone better, he said. “The Cubans will be expecting the CIA to be behind them all the way. We will be, but not in the way they think we will.”
“Gearheardt, I think Crenshaw might be in trouble.” I told him about Crenshaw riding off on his burro to meet a group of Cubans. I told him of Juanita receiving the tail of a burro, in a package addressed to me and from Crenshaw.
“Crenshaw isn’t the kind of guy to just do that as a joke, is he Jack?” Gearheardt asked.
“Cut off the tail of his burro and send it to me? Get serious, Gearheardt. Someone is holding Crenshaw.”
“Did you check at the embassy to see if anyone saw who delivered the package? We know he didn’t mail it, unless he mailed it six months ago and bribed every one from the mailman to the postmaster so it would be delivered in less than two years. This Mexican mail system is a damn disgrace, Jack.”
“Could we stick with Crenshaw? And no, I haven’t done any investigating at the embassy. I haven’t been in there for two days. The ambassador is looking for me. Evidently, he’s a bit upset over something.”
“You think he knows what you’re up to?” Gearheardt asked.
It was what I was up to now.
“I doubt it. I would imagine that word is out that the CIA is involved in some kind of shenanigans and he’s just on a normal rampage. The reason I don’t think it’s anything specific is that he hasn’t actually sent anyone out to put me under house arrest or anything. As far as I know, he just wants to see me.”
“He told the Marine guards to shoot you on sight, Jack. Sorry to be the one to let you know.”
“You don’t suppose the Marines would actually—”
“Aw, I’m just shitting you, Jack. Those boys wouldn’t shoot a former Marine hero like yourself. They’d shoot the damn ambassador first.” Gearheardt laughed.
“Very funny, Gearheardt. I’ve got two people trying to shoot me now. So that isn’t exactly humorous.”
“One and a half, Jack. The pygmy’s only about three feet tall.”
“Let’s get back to Crenshaw. I think we need to look for him. He is my boss after all.”
“I’ll put out some feelers,” Gearheardt offered. “Where was he last seen?”
“Feelers my ass. We’re going to look for him. I know the town that he rode out of yesterday. Its just north of here. He was going to meet some people who he thought could help him get to the bottom of the potential assassination of Rios. Your deal, Gearheardt. So the least you could do is find out if he’s in some trouble. Tails don’t just fall off burro’s you know.”
“I was going to ask,” Gearheardt said. “I was wondering if it was some kind of shedding thing.” He flicked his cigarette butt to the fireplace, not noticing the opening was covered with clear plastic. Marta got up and picked up the butt and put it in the urn. The urn was no doubt an invaluable gift from the Chinese.
“I’m taking a bath,” Marta announced. She began taking off her clothes.
“Come on, Jack. Let me show you around this place. It’s magnificent.”
“You and I are going after Crenshaw.”
�
�Jack, if the Chief of Station is missing, don’t you think the CIA has some folks on the job?”
“Maybe, but Crenshaw was so damn secretive about what he was doing. I’m not sure that anyone but I and Juanita knew where he was headed. And I only have a vague idea.”
Marta was down to her underwear and I decided that given my new feelings about her, I needed to vacate the premises. I headed out of the room and I heard Gearheardt rise and follow me.
“Everything is set for you in Havana, Marta,” he said. “Your half-brother is in place and making arrangements.”
I turned around as Marta headed into the bathroom. “Gon is in Havana?”
“So was I yesterday,” Gearheardt said. “I’ll tell you about it. By the way, I spoke to Mr. Chavez. He said Pilar wants her car back.”
“Pilar does not own a car. She owns a nineteen forty-nine Chevrolet chicken coup. It is a piece of shit, even for a chicken coup.”
“Jeez, Jack. I was just passing on the message.”
We were in the grand library. Beautiful wood and hand bound books by the hundreds.
“Sorry, Gearheardt. She was nice enough to loan it to us. I’ll buy her a new one. I’ll call her later. Now, let’s talk about Crenshaw. I think we need to get out there and see what we can find out. Even if you don’t feel like helping the guy, this could affect your plan.”
“Righto, Jack. We’ll head out after dinner. I’ve got a staff downstairs that can make lizard taste like filet mignon.”
“I don’t want any lizard. I want us to get our asses out to Tahuacan and find Crenshaw.” I realized I was shouting. The castle was chillingly quiet. “And we’re taking Marta.”
“Fine. I’ll go get her.” Gearheardt started out of the room.
I grabbed his jacket and turned him around. “I’ll go get her. You get a car for us.”
The scene of Marta in Carlotta’s marble tub, her black hair tied back in a scarf, one faultless leg raised as she rinsed, was something that would stay with me a lifetime.
“Jack,” she said as she looked up, “there is water for two in here.” She smiled the smile that I was becoming addicted to.
“I would like to come in with you very much, Marta. But we must go to find the Major. Maybe we could come back here later.”
“But you smell like the goat, Jack. You should take a bath now.” She rose from the tub in full magnificence. I realized how contextual nudity is. At my breakfast table it is a distracting joy. Rising wet from a bath, it is incredibly—”
“Hey, I got the car, Jackson. Wow, would you look at that body. Marta you are one luscious babe.” Gearheardt was beside me in the bathroom door. “Get your clothes on, Marta. Jack here has a bug up his ass about Crenshaw. And he’s probably right. We need to find the guy tonight if possible. Cinco de Mayo is soon upon us.”
Gearheardt and I sat in one of innumerable parlors while we waited for Marta. He began to tell me of the arrangements that he made in Havana. “It’s a simple plan, Jack. The bomb goes off in Mexico City. Attention is drawn there. The U.S. has a perfect excuse to send—”
A livery festooned young man entered the room and gave a small nod of his head to Gearheardt. “Excellency, you have a phone call from Mr. Chavez.”
Gearheardt actually blushed. “Don’t start with me, Jack. It was only a few dollars more and the people who work here like it. It gives them a sense of history.”
“Go see what Chavez wants, your Excellency. You are a real piece of work, Gearheardt.”
When he returned, he was serious. “Jack, have you recently pissed off some Colombians? Chavez says that a couple of cranky looking guys came in asking for you this evening. He’s been trying to get in touch with you. Says you should watch your ass.” He walked over to a gilded chest and pried open the door. Inside were various size crystal bottles. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. This looks good.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Gearheardt. Those bottles have probably … forget that. So now I have cranky Colombians looking for me. At least I can’t blame that on you. Where’s that phone? I need to see if I can get in touch with Rodrigo.”
“Have you ever thought of keeping a list of people wanting to kill you, Jack? You know the Mexican Secret Police aren’t exactly big fans of yours either.”
“Where’s the phone? You can tell me about that later.”
Rodrigo, being the trooper that he was, took the news as if he had expected it. “My family and I will go to our home village for a few days, Jack. No problem. You should come with us. No outsiders will harm us there. The Colombians will not search for us for long. They will be angry now, but their leaders in Bogotá will not want much attention on the operation in Mexico. They will find new people and start again.”
“I suppose you’re right, Rodrigo. Stay safe and contact me when you get back to Mexico City. If you need to get in touch with me, just leave word with Juanita.”
“Who is thees Gearheardt?”
“That’s a long story. But you can trust him if he contacts you. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Marta was dressed and having three-hundred-year-old brandy with Gearheardt when I finally found the right parlor. “This is a nice place you have here, Excellency,” I said.
“Knock off the Excellency crap, Jack. By the way, how long have you been wearing those clothes? That suit looks like you’ve been wrestling chickens on their own turf. Try some of mine. I’ve had some laid out for you in the bedroom you’ll be using. Pedro here will show you the way. And I might take Marta’s suggestion that a bath wouldn’t hurt.”
“Gearheardt, we are on our way to help a guy that might be in real trouble. We don’t need to smell pretty and we are wasting time.”
“Emperors can’t be rushed, Jack. That’s one of the first rules of Emperoring. Take a damn bath. I need to bring Marta up to date anyway.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
ON THE TRAIL OF THE TAIL-LESS BURRO
Spit-polished and fragrant, we finally made it into Gearheardt’s borrowed (I didn’t even ask) Mercedes and on our way to Teotihuacan. Or actually a small town near those famous ruins.
Gearheardt’s driving matched his other skills, more or less car-veat emptor. That is, other drivers needed to anticipate where Gearheardt was heading and make allowances. No lane, speed, turn, traffic restriction nor civilized responsibility impeded his driving. I had forewarned Marta and she had emptied her bladder prior to climbing into the back seat.
“Gearheardt,” I said, acting as if I weren’t aware of our imminent death, “Marta never did explain Palanque to me. What’s all that about?”
“Good question, Jack. Actually has nothing to do with Palanque (of course) but I liked the name. Palanque is the nearest Mayan ruin to the little village on the Gulf that is, as we speak, being invaded by Cubans. Mostly by sea, but some are driving and some have flown into Merida. These are ‘good’ Cubans of course. Guys I can count on, and the nucleus of the Cuban government after we kick Castro out.”
“By ‘we’ I assume you mean the United States.”
“God Bless America, Jack. That’s exactly who I mean.”
“And I also assume that you believe the U.S. will kick Castro out because you have egged them into trying to take over Mexico.”
“By Jove, I think you have it, Jack. You didn’t think I really meant to take over Mexico, did you? Lovely country. Friendly people and some of the best tortillas this side of … wherever else they make tortillas.”
“And what if they don’t? Attack Cuba, I mean. It didn’t work at the Bay of Pigs. And there was no popular uprising against Castro either. Have you thought through all the possibilities?”
Marta spoke up from the back seat. “Pepe has much help in Cuba, Jack. He is the leader but he is not alone.”
“You’re the leader? I thought this was the Pygmy’s operation.”
“The Pygmy was the leader. He put things in place at Langley. But he’s gone off the deep end. Ki
nd of taken this assassination thing to heart. I’ve had to change some plans.” Gearheardt was lighting a cigarette while balancing an exquisite snifter of fine brandy. Marta and I held our breath as he wove through the evening traffic.
He went on. “Blood lust can do that to a man. Once he got the word from HQ that he was to take out the would-be assassin traitor, he’s lost interest in everything else. We get so few killing assignments these days, what with Congress on our ass all the time, you can hardly blame him.” Gearheardt took his eyes off the road for a few terrifying seconds while he looked over at me. “I’ll stop him, Jack. Don’t worry. And I know you’re no traitor. Since I was the one who told Langley you were.”
“Pepe can do amazing things, Jack,” Marta chimed in. “He is the—”
“Marta, could you hold off for a minute on the Gearheardt skill and acumen? I need to make sure that I know exactly what is taking place. Then when I kill Gearheardt, I’ll know how to run this show.” Although Marta was clearly beginning to look at me the way I was now looking at her, she was in love with the Emperor Gearheardt concept. Hero worship was a dangerous thing for an American in a foreign land. Particularly worshiping someone like Gearheardt.
“And I wouldn’t blame you if I let the Pygmy kill you, Jack. For killing me, I mean. But it ain’t gonna happen, qien sabe?” He slammed on the brakes throwing us painfully forward against our seatbelts.
“We missed the turnoff to Teotihuacan while we were jabbering. Driving in this traffic takes concentration.” He made a u-turn in front of the on-coming traffic and then cut across three lanes to the Teotihuacan road.
“Now where were we? Okay, Jack, get the idea out of your head that the Pygmy is going to shoot you. I’ll take care of it. I’m working on the blind Ukrainian sniper situation, and you need to get your back covered with those Colombian assholes. We’ll talk to your pal Eduardo with the Halcones tomorrow and see if we can’t get that called off too. So now, what’s the problem?”
Goodbye Mexico Page 12
