She had to know it would bitch up the cruise and all. It was a mess around here last night, Patty crying her eyes out. So she busted up the trip sort of, but she didn't spoil it. That's what we decided last night after she came back to the boat with Pete, both of them stoned, and there was a big fight and they took off. Just Dads and Patty and me. And the hell with Corry and Pete. I don't know where they are, and nobody cares. The cruise'll get Patty's mind off him. The thing is, there'd have been no harm done if Pete gets from her what Patty won't give him yet, but she has to come back smashed and bragging about it in front of Patty."
"How did it all start, Dee?"
"I don't know. We were all just kidding around, rough kidding maybe, and Corry got sore at something Dads said, and then Pete got sore at something Patty said to Corr and Y, then Corry went away, and a little while later Pete slipped away."
My admiration for Junior Allen was reluctant. He had simplified things for himself. They could not know that they had been maneuvered, any more than Cathy had known in the beginning. So he could set off with his little putty-haired pig, and with the wan victim of the lover's quarrel and the betrayal.
"I was going to stop around a little later on, Dee, and have a bon voyage drink with you people."
"There's nobody here now but me, Trav.
Dads is off picking up supplies. Patty went home. She's coming back tonight and stay here at the apartment so we can get off at six-thirty like Dads wants. My stuff is aboard already, so I'll probably sleep aboard tonight.
Maybe Patty too, if she wants. What you could do, you could come around tonight because four would be better'n three for a bon voyage drink?"
"You don't think Corry will be back?"
"Man, I know she won't be back. She and Pete took off together, and they're shacked someplace. She's out of the picture, Trav. You know, I wisht Patty was more of a doll, and then maybe you'd like to come along, because now there's room. What you do, when you come around, you take a good look at her. it could turn out three's a crowd and she'll need comforting the way she feels now. She's really got a nice complexion. And she says things you would laugh yourself sick when she's feeling good."
"That would be up to Dads."
"You can come around and if you like the idea, then we can ask him, but it wouldn't be fair not telling you you don't make out with Patty. She's got a thing about it, scared or something. I don't know. Maybe it would be different, off on a cruise. The way I figure it, if you want to go, honey, I can make Dads do about anything I want. Come right down to it, this cruise was my idea in the first place."
"I guess he can afford it."
"A guy like that, he gets what he wants and I get what I want, so it works out nice, and he wants to keep it that way. You come around later on, huh?"
"I'll be there."
"You don't have to bring any bottle, honey.
Dads has loaded cases of it aboard."
My lady returned. Tilty eyes, swirl of a white skirt, little beads of the hotness on her upper lip and at her hairline.
I took her hands. Swung her around. 'You are a fine, fine thing." "What's happened to you?"
"I like lovely ladies. You are refreshing."
"I'm hot and sticky."
"And rich?"
"I mailed the check to the bank." I beamed at her. She asked me again. "What's going on?"
"It's the contrast, I think. Because you can cry and not know why. Because I was looking around and saw your toothbrush. And some diaphanous items dripping dry in our shower stall. And because you have tidy hips, and when you are very passionate, it is all of you trying to say what your heart is saying, not just an end in itself-which sounds like a vulgar pun and isn't at all."
"Have you been drinking?"
"I'm drunk with power. Phantom McGee strikes again. Junior Allen is a stupid crafty man. And McGee is going to put him out Of business."
She looked alarmed. 'Darling, he's a terrible man."
"I am even more terrible in my wrath. How's this for glower?"
"Remarkable."
"No hairs in the sink and you put the butter away."
She looked owlish. 'Are we engaged?"
"Ask me again, after we put this dull, foolish, sly fellow out of commission."
She swallowed. 'We?"
I need one very small assist from you."
She swallowed again. 'And this act you're putting on is supposed to give me confidence?"
"Doesn't it?"
"Not very much."
"No danger for you."
"You know what just seeing him did to me' 'I know. Lois, he just isn't that ominous. Evil, but not ominous. Sly, but not prescient. Once he is off balance, he will stay off balance, and fall heavily. And the law will gather him in."
She sat, her face wan and thoughtful. "What do you want me to do, T-avis?"
In the sultry blue dusk, the three of us lounged in the spacious cockpit of the Play Pen, kindly old lump-jawed, crinkle-eyed Dads Allen in his spotless whites, Deeleen slumped and placid in low-waisted short shorts and a narrow halter which provided a startling uplift, Fearless McGee in pale blue denims and an old gray sport shirt. McGee with a short sturdy pry bar taped to his leg, and an old white silk sock in his pocket, with a goodly heft of bird shot knotted into the toe of it.
A lazy hour of the day. Deeleen yawned and said, 'Patty should be along any time." She lazily scratched her belly, her nails making a whispering, fleshy, sensuous sound. 'How about Trav coming along with us, lover?"
"I don't know whether I want to," I said.
Dee snickered. 'He wants another look at Patty, huh?"
"We haven't invited him yet,' Junior Allen said.
"What I want to do over there,' Deeleen said, 'I want me one of those buckets with the glass in the bottom, and you look at the coral and fish and stuff. And I want to go shopping in Nassau. Are you going to take me for a little shopping, lover?"
"All you can use,' he said, his smile white in the night. Lights were reflected on the still black water of the sea-walled canal. Two kinds of music merged in the softness of the night.
"Geez, I wish we could take off tonight, as soon as Patty gets here," she said.
"How is she going to get here?" I asked.
"She's taking a cab, like to go to the bus station, but she isn't,' Dee said. She tilted her glass. The ice rattled up against her lips. I had been trying to time the drinks, and this time her glass and mine were empty, and Junior Allen's was more than half full. I stood up and reached and took her glass and said, "Okay if I fix a couple?"
"Go ahead," he said.
I went below. There was a light on in the galley. Spotless galley. Pristine whites. Trim happy ship. I gave her a heavy shot and hoped it would cover the other taste. Twisted the two capsules open, spilled the powder, stirred it in.
A powerful barbiturate. Even with the liquor, I was more than reasonably sure it would do her no harm. She was a young and healthy animal. Fifteen minutes after she got it down, she would become unbearably sleepy. it would knock her out for a good fourteen hours, and leave her dulled and lethargic for the following two days. I wondered with a certain irony if it wasn't practically what Junior Allen had all planned for her, and I was merey jumping the gun. Or maybe he had decided she would be a willing accomplice.
I put no liquor in mine.
She murmured thanks when I gave her the drink. I had observed her drinking habits. One swallow at a time, one minute between swallows, until it was all gone. The taste seemed to suit her.
A breeze moved the cruiser, nudged it gently against a piling.
"She oughta be here pretty soon," Dee said.
"If she doesn't come, the hell with her, lover.
Who needs her?"
"She'll be along," Junior Allen said.
"Just the three of us, we could have a ball,' Dee said. 'She's not much of a swinging thing.
Who needs her?" She yawned. "And she'll be drag-assin' around, crying over Pete anyways."
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Dusk had deepened into night, and I saw the stars, and two planes winking, and heard the cheeing of the night insects mingled with the sound of music.
Deeleen yawned vastly and said, 'I can't keep my eyes open. Lover, I'm going to go sack out for a while." She stood up heavily. She looked at him and made a kissing sound. As she passed me, she dragged her fingertips across my cheek. She went below, wobbling along the narrow area between the bunks as though the Play Pen were in a choppy sea. She bent and rolled herself heavily onto a bunk. From where I sat, I could see a narrow path of light from the galley light stretching diagonally across her, across the downy small of her back, the deep crease of her waist and the high gluteal round of her hip. Sweet dreams, sweet girl.
Slide way way down. Stay out of the action.
I talked with Junior Allen. He didn't have his mind on it. He was crouched in the brush, and he could taste lamb, and he was alerted for the first shy sound of the little hoofs coming along the trail. I gently and indirectly advanced the idea of my coming along, and he firmly closed the door. He got up and sprang nimbly onto the dock, snapped the weak dock light on, checked his lines, adjusted a fender and came aboard again, restless.
Suddenly a man came onto the dock out of the shadows. He wore a gaudy shirt, wrinkled pants and a bright red fishing hat.
"Anybody here name of Mister Allen?" he asked in a soft voice.
"I'm Allen."
The man fumbled in his shirt pocket and took out a piece of paper. He swatted on the edge of the dock and held it out and said, 'Apex Taxi, Mister Allen. You're to call the lady at this here number."
Junior Allen snatched it and turned it toward the light and looked at it. "What lady?
She give this to you?"
"No, sir. I got called over the radio and put it down on that paper. They say come here and find you and give it to you." He straightened up and hesitated for a moment, and then went back the way he had come.
"Probably from Patty," I said.
it was the spur he needed. He hesitated, and I could sense that he was considering ordering me ashore and locking up, locking Deeleen on the inside. I slumped deeply in the canvas chair and said, "If it isn't her, and she should come while ou're off phoning, I'll tell her y you'll be right on back."
"You do that," he said. He sailed up onto the dock and went off. He had a springy and muscular gait, like a Percheron in a spring pasture.
I counted to ten and then went below. I found the lights and turned them on. I went through that boat like a nervous whirlwind, yanking out the drawers and dumping them, awing through stowage areas. I had little hope of finding a thing, but I wanted it to look like a thorough search. And as I yanked and scurried and spilled, I was pleading with Lois.
"Keep him going, baby. Keep him hanging on the line. Keep him hooked! We had planned some interesting things to say to the monster.
In spite of the racket I was making, Deeleen did not make a quiver.
I selected a spot very carefully, a lighted place where his glance would fall naturally, and I placed the fake sapphire precisely, right where it could have fallen from the hand of a hasty thief. I put a fifty-dollar bill on the cockpit deck where the interior lights shone out upon it. I turned the dock light out and snapped the switch off, breaking it. Then I clambered quickly to the cabin roof and flattened myself out on the far side of the dinghy.
I checked my observation points. I could hold on to the safety rail and lean over and look through the port into the small forward cabin, or hitch back a few feet and look the same way into the larger cabin.
I thought I knew exactly what he would do, what he had to do under those circumstances. Lois had been very dubious about this part. And she had been worried about somebody coming along. But she had been wrong there, and would be wrong again, I knew.
I heard his hasty footsteps on the dock. I kept my head down. I heard the thump and felt it as he leaped down into the cockpit. I heard his grunt of consternation.
He would have to find out, and find out quickly. I leaned over cautiously and stared in, my head upside down. I saw him snatch the gem up, stare at it, shove it into his pocket. He whirled toward his marine radio rig, grasped the wooden drawer directly under the rig and pulled it all the way out. A strange resonant buzzing began. He reached back in the place where the drawer had been, and the buzzing stopped. He worked at something in there, and then pulled his arms out, a cloth bag in one hand and a small plastic bag of paper money in the other. He examined them. He stowed them away again, started the buzzer and replaced the drawer. As soon as the drawer was in place, the buzzing sound stopped. He went to the sleeping girl. He took her brutally by the hair, lifted her and wrenched her around. His back was to me. It was a very broad back. Her eyes opened, wide and absolutely vacant, and she seemed to stare so directly at me, I almost yanked myself away from the port. She closed her eyes again. He slapped her. They stayed closed. He dropped her.
Suddenly he reached into his pocket and took out the stone. He moved closer to the nearest light. His body seemed to tense, shoulders lifting. I pulled myself back up, sensing that he would whirl, that he would catch me.
I wormed my way toward the stern, onto the overhang, working the silk sock out of my pocket. The lights below began to go off quickly, one after the other. I had not counted on that. I closed my eyes tightly for several seconds and then opened them wide, trying to hurry night vision. I heard him coming. Moving swiftly. I wanted one good chance, and I had to take a risk to get it. I slid head and shoulders over the edge as he came out. He heard or sensed the movement and tried to turn, but I got him very nicely and solidly, better than I had expected. He took three wandering sideways steps and went down onto his hands and knees. I dropped, landing on toes and knuckles, and as he straightened, I gave it to him with more precision, more of a wristsnapping impact. He went back down onto his hands, shaking his head, sighing. I marveled at the toughness of his skull. I snapped him behind the left ear and his arms quit and his face smacked the teak deck. For a moment, standing and breathing hard, I debated lashing him up. But after three of those, I guessed he would last more than long enough for my two chores, finding and taking his treasures, and disabling his boat.
The drawer arrangement was tricky. He had a battery buzzer back in there. I couldn't find his manual switch, so I yanked the wires loose.
The compartment was directly behind the drawer, with a sliding lid. I shoved the money I into one pocket. I jounced the cloth sack. it made a glassy clinking sound. It stirred an old memory. Glassies won in the school-yard long ago, a heft marking many victories. I shoved the sack inside my shirt. They had a strange coolness through the cloth against my skin. A Himalayan coolness perhaps, cold as smuggled gold. Or cell bars. Or those small blue eyes above the lovable smile.
The boat would be no problem. Hoist a hatch, tear off a handful of wiring. But then I remembered the fake stone. if I couldn't send it back, Harry would want a lot more than it was worth. I squatted beside Junior Allen and felt it in his right trouser pocket. I worked my hand into the pocket. Suddenly he rolled against my hand, pinning it, rolled onto my wrist and arm and the leverage forced me down against the deck. Then he was on his back, my right arm under him. He hooked his left arm around my neck, pulled my head against his waist and began hammering me with his free hand. I had no leverage and no room to strike back. As my face began to break, and the world began to blur, I planted knees and stuffed my other arm under him MY and heaved. It brought him up and turned him, and I ripped my right hand free of his pocket. He bounded up with a rubbery agility, and I barely saw the kick coming, and turned just enough to take it on the point of the shoulder. My left arm went numb. He was a jolly brawler. He kept low and balanced, snorting with each exhalation, and I hit him twice before he bowled me over and bore me down in a tangle of chairs and began the jolly business of rib cracking, gouging, kneeing and breaking everything loose he could reach. He clambered and straddled me, trapping my arms under his blo
cky legs, picked me up by the ears and banged my head back onto the teak, As the world went slow and dreamy, I got an arm loose and saw my hand way up there, the heel of it under his chin. He tried to hammer his clasped hands down onto my rigid arm, and would have snapped it nicely had I not gotten my feet braced and bucked him off. He was back at me like a cat, and he swung a hard chunk of wood from one of the smashed chairs. I caught the first one on the shoulder and I cleverly caught the next one right over the left ear. It broke a big white bell in my head, and he side-stepped, grunting for breath, and let me go down. I landed on my side, and he punted me in the belly like Groza trying for one from the mid-field stripe.
John D MacDonald - Travis McGee 01 - The Deep Blue Good-By Page 16
