"Where to, old buddy?" the Nose said.
Cruz opened his eyes.
He stared up at the ceiling of the bathroom in his suite at the Portland Arms.? His head rested on the marble apron of the tub.? The water was hot.? The jets were still going.? Steam rose all around him.?
The bathroom phone was ringing near his head.? It echoed against the tiled walls and the marble floor.? He reached back, brushed the gun to make sure it was still there, and picked up the phone.
"Yeah?" he said.
"Cruz."
"Yeah."
"You awake?? It's Moss."? Moss, the clown who didn't like staying at the Holiday Inn.? He wasn't supposed to disturb Cruz tonight, not unless he got to the Guatemalan.
"Yeah, Moss."
"Listen son, we got the wetback."
Cruz stifled a yawn and sat up in the tub.? "Tell me."
There was a long pause over the line.? "We got her."
"What else did you get?"
Cruz could practically hear Moss's lazy grin cracking ear to ear over the phone.
"We got all the keys to Dugan's place."???
CHAPTER FOUR
Smoke left Lola's apartment around eleven the next morning.? Both Lola and Pam had gone to their day jobs, so Smoke lounged around for a bit before heading back to his own place.? He was in no hurry, and it was a nice day.?
He came down the stairs into his apartment, still with lingering thoughts of Lola and her body from the night before.? Last night had been better, thank you.? It was almost noon and she should be on a break soon.?
Yessir, he was a lucky man.?
A large pile of fur was heaped on the linoleum floor of his tiny kitchen.? At first, he thought one of the cats was merely sprawled out there.? It was Bubbles, a big lazy yellow tabby.? Sprawling out on the floor was nothing new for Bubbles.? In fact, Smoke barely looked at the cat.?
Then he did.
There was something abnormal about the way Bubbles lay there.? Smoke's heart raced off in a wild tattoo.? Rat-a-tat-tat.? The cat looked almost like it had been broken, or even smashed.? Smoke approached Bubbles cautiously.
His heart pounded in his chest.
Run, you idiot.
The cat was demolished.? It was humped and bloodied, like it had been tortured and killed by a cruel and sinister child.? A streak of blood stained the linoleum beneath its carcass.???
RUN.? RUN.
He turned and a man stood behind him.? The man had just emerged from the bathroom hallway.? The man was short and dark, in jeans and a white T-shirt, covered by a light autumn jacket.? His face was pock-marked and scarred along the side.? He looked to Smoke like a man in his mid-forties, maybe a little older.? Behind him stood a much taller, much broader young man.? The kid was huge.? He wore a leather cap on his head.? Greasy brown hair strung down from it.? He had a cowlick on the front of his hairline and a wild light in his eyes.
Smoke had seen the look before.? It was the look of a crazy kid who should have been locked up someplace, but instead was hired as muscle.? It was the look of those guys who went on bank jobs, then suddenly started spraying civilians with gunfire.? It was a bad, bad look.? It was the look of murder for hire.
Smoke turned to bolt out the back door, but another young man stood there.? This one was slim, clean-cut, not as crazy looking, nor nearly as big as the other one.? This kid's eyes said he had seen a few jobs, and did exactly what the bosses told him.? This was the survivor type.? The survivor type with a Colt .380 in his hand.?
The back yard was blocked, and the way to the stairs was blocked. ?Smoke couldn't outrun these guys.? He had his cane, but he couldn't outfight them.? He couldn't do anything.?
Damn!? So stupid to wait and wait and wait.? Now it was too late.?
He had had a bad feeling, and here it was in the flesh.? The bad feeling personified.
"Can I help you fellows?" he said.
The small, dark man lit a cigarette.
"That's okay, go ahead and smoke.? I don't mind."
The man shrugged.? "James Dugan, right?? That's what you call yourself these days?"
"Who wants to know?"
The kid ambled out from behind the small man.? He was big, even bigger than at first glance.? Smoke watched him approach.? It was like watching a dark and terrible storm move in across a valley.? He angled toward Smoke across the dingy linoleum, taking his time, not hurrying at all.
"Son," he said.? "The man asked you a question.? It ain't polite to answer him with a question."? He cracked his knuckles.
"You guys are in my home.? Ever think of that?? That puts me in charge of asking questions."???
The big man feinted with his left hand, then delivered a hard right cross to Smoke's jaw.? Smoke stumbled backwards, crashed into the kitchen table and went right over it.? Two cats scattered as he rolled over and fell to the floor.???
The kid came, and smiling, stood over him.? His huge hands, like the mechanical claws that sift through scrap metal at the junkyard, reached down and picked Smoke up by the shirt.? The kid backed up and swung him around in a large circle, then let him go.? Smoke felt himself crossing the room as if he were flying, his feet barely scraping the ground.? He hit the far wall, plowed into it, then bounced off and stumbled backwards.? He turned, pinwheeling for balance.? He spilled and slid across the floor.?
Then the small man was standing over him.? Smoke looked up at that hard face.? The scar stood out in sharp relief.? Smoke thought of the old dueling societies in Germany, where the guys would wear the scars as badges of honor.? The guy took a drag on his cigarette.
"Friend," the guy said.? His voice barely rose above a whisper.? "I want to talk to you.? And I want you to look at me when I do.? Right here, in the eyes."
Smoke did.? The eyes.? Somehow, this guy had eyes that were worse than the madness of the kid's eyes.? It was almost like there were flames behind those eyes, and the guy was burning in there, burning in a hell you would have to live through to appreciate.? Smoke had also seen this look before, but maybe never this strong.
The eyes held him.? "Do we understand each other?"
Smoke nodded.
More whispers from the little man.? "Okay.? Here's the rules.? I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them.? You're not in a position to act funny.? You're not in a position to ask me any questions.? Do you still understand?"
Smoke nodded again.
"What?? I didn't hear you."
"I understand."
The scarred face smiled.? "Good.? Now, I want to show you something."
He stepped aside and again the giant psychotic kid appeared.? This time he was holding one of the cats.? Melon was the cat's name, so called because it was orange and as fat as a melon.? Smoke's heart sank at the sight of the kid with Melon.? The kid stroked Melon's fur, and even from the floor Smoke could hear the cat purring.
"That's a good kitty," the big boy said.??
Jesus, after just watching this kid knock the piss out of me.? Talk about betrayal.
Then the kid stopped stroking the cat and instead grabbed it roughly by the head.? He turned the cat's head to the left with a sudden and vicious snap.? The cat went limp and the kid dropped its carcass to the floor.? Two cats dead.? It was a fucking cat holocaust.
The kid would pay for the cats, Smoke decided.? In blood.?
The scarred face appeared again.?
"James Dugan, also known as Walter O'Malley?"
Smoke spit at the face.? "Fuck you."? These guys were worse than the cops.
?
* * *
?
The karate works.
Lola sailed through the morning on that thought alone.? Two big men had tried to take advantage of her - face it, they had tried to rape her - and she had kicked ass, just like the tattoo on her back said.? It had been scary, sure, but now that it was over and gone, she wanted to do it again.? This time, she wanted to go in knowing she would fight, and just get in there and, an
d, and?
KICK ASS.
God, the feeling.? She had put their lights out in seconds flat.? She could have really hurt them both.? By the end there, they were both completely under her power.? Even now, she felt a tingle of electric excitement up her spine at the thought of it.
Smoke hadn't been ready for her last night. ?That feeling of power, well, it had translated into everything. Friday night had churned up a lot of memories for her, had made it hard, but now it was clear, after last night, that it was for the good.?
She felt great, that was the simple matter of fact.
She had lunch monitor duty today so she couldn't call Smoke.? Now she could barely wait until her afternoon break so she could check in with him.??
?
* * *
?
It was a long day.?
Smoke opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself on the floor again. ?For a while, they had put him in the chair.
He looked at the floor around his head.? The linoleum was tacky with blood.?
The skinny kid, the one who was missing the fingers, stood over him again.? "Well, look who's awake.? Your girlfriend called a while ago.? She left a message on the machine.? She knows you're out in the shop working.? She just wanted to tell you that she loves you."
The kid's eyes showed rising good humor.? He had a sheet of paper in his lobster claw hand.? He referred to it, then looked up with a smile.? "That would be Lola Bell, right?? Twenty-five years old, African-American, resides at 210 Vesper Street in Portland?? Top floor apartment?"?
Jesus, Lola.? He had to keep her out of it at all costs.? It didn't matter what they did to him.? Lola was not part of this.? She knew nothing about this.? He wouldn't take the bait.? He wouldn't say anything about her.? If he let the comment die, perhaps they would forget about her.? If he could get a message to her somehow, tell her to run????
The big one placed another dead cat on Smoke's chest.? He took a moment to get it positioned just so.? Then he stood up.? Smoke pushed the cat off.? This time it was Minefield, so named because he was the three legged cat in the bunch.? Three down and three to go.? He looked around.? The others appeared to have scrammed.? Good for them.
The big guy settled into the chair.? He pulled out an emery board and began filing his nails.? "Smoke, she called you.? Is that some kind of nick-name?"
"What does it sound like?"
The kid smiled.? He rolled his eyes slowly.? "Son, you're gonna learn to appreciate how patient I been with you thus far.? Like that cat of yours?" he gestured at the crumpled remains of Minefield.? "I took all that time to get it just so.? It was a piece of art how I had it.? Then you knock it away.? What you think of that, Fingers?"
Fingers flashed a silly grin.? "I think it's rude."
"Rude.? That's exactly the word I would have picked."
The dark man, Cruz, came out of the bathroom.? He was not smiling.? Another lit cigarette dangled from his mouth.?
"O'Malley.? I see you're awake.? Anything you'd like to tell us about your life up until now?? Like, for instance, what you did with about two and a half million dollars you took from Roselli when you killed him."
Smoke lay back on the linoleum and sighed.? "I'm telling you.? You have the wrong man.? My name is James Dugan.? I'm retired.? I used to be an engineer for Sikorsky down in Connecticut.? Now I make toys and adaptive devices for retarded children."
Cruz nodded at the big kid.
"Roland?"
Slowly, the big man moved his bulk out of the chair.? He flexed his triceps as he did so.? He cracked his knuckles.? He smiled.
"Friend, I'm starting to get bored, you see what I mean?"?
Then the pain came again.? And when the pain came, Roselli was dead and Smoke was holed up in a motel all the way out in Greenport, Long Island, waiting for the bad weather to come in, with all that money stashed in a satchel under the bed.? The urge was there, to take that cold, hard cash and spread it out all over the bed and just lay in it and roll around in it, but he fought off the urge.? When the storm came, he finally made the call, yeah, Walter O'Malley making reservations on Block Island, half way between the North Fork and Rhode Island.? Yeah, I'm coming in on my own boat, is that okay?? The weather?? Oh, it'll be a wet one, but I've been in worse than this.? Sure, I'll see you tonight.?
Then he was out on the Boston Whaler, in the dark and the rain and the wind.? Whitecaps topped the waves, the foam tearing off and blowing in his face.? He went inside and set the charges in the cabin.? He set them against the hull, one on each side, wet hair dripping in his eyes, Smoke working feverishly as the boat rocked and listed.? He lowered the red fiberglass dinghy, no ordinary dinghy, a sturdy survival boat that would rock and roll.? He loaded up and powered out of there.? The Whaler was on its own.?
He heard the muffled blasts moments later, and then the Whaler was gone.? And O'Malley was gone.? And bedraggled Dugan raced across heavy seas toward New London, where his car was waiting like a trusty dog, man's best friend.? He could take that car and run anywhere.? Anywhere at all, and wherever he went, it would never be far enough.? So when he found a place he liked, he stopped.? He stopped way too soon.
Sometime later, Smoke opened his eyes.?
His wrists were cuffed together, and they were attached to a rope slung over one of the exposed pipes that ran along the ceiling.? The whole thing was pulled just tight enough that his toes barely touched the ground.? He looked up at his hands.? They had turned purple while he was passed out.? He knew he had lost some teeth.? In fact, he had seen them come out.? It was possible that he had some bruised ribs as well.? At least bruised.? Maybe broken.??
A new and terrible thought had occurred to him.? "How'd you get in here?" he gasped to nobody in particular.?
The one they called Fingers floated in front of his face.? He grinned.? His face looked like a carved up Jack o' lantern.? In his own way, he was as bad as the other two.
"We talked to the housekeeper."
Shit.? Lorena.? She had been swept up in this, too.
"Where is she now?" Smoke said.? He felt his Adam's apple bob.? He was afraid of the answer, afraid of everything now, afraid of what he had wrought with his goddamned stupid laziness.? He had played a role, he had pretended to be a normal person, and then he had come to believe in the role himself.? He had lied, and then he had bought the lie.
Stupid.
"She's sleeping, brother," Fingers said.? He raised his eyebrows.?
Smoke went numb.?
Time passed as he hung there.? He noticed the shadows were growing long outside.? The light was starting to fade from the sky, and from the room.? Death would be a relief of sorts.? It was the money, of course.? That was why they were here, and it was the only thing keeping him alive.? They wanted to know where the money was.?
It seemed like an effort even to blink.
There was pain everywhere in his body, and now that he thought about it, that was probably a good thing.? They hadn't severed his spinal cord, for instance.? If ever he got away from these guys, he'd still be able to walk.?
The beginning of a plan began to form.
Cruz stood in front of him.? "You're a trooper, O'Malley.? I'll give you that much.? You can take a beating.? We're getting tired of it, actually.? You see, we don't like beatings.? They're slow.? They don't work on old-school tough guys like you.? But our orders were not to hurt you too bad.? You see, we had to keep you presentable in case that money was in the bank somewhere and we needed you to go in and get it."?
He shrugged, as if to himself.? "But I guess it didn't work.? So when it gets dark out, we're all going to take a little ride down to New York.? You're going to talk to some people down there about what you've been up to these past three years.? Then you're going to officially retire."
"Well, that's nice to know," Smoke said.? "I've been looking forward to retirement."
Cruz nodded to the other two.? They untied the rope from the ceiling and Smoke collapsed in a heap
on the floor.? The back of his head hit the worn floor hard, but it was just another pain to add to the list.? Still, he faded in and out for a few seconds.??
Cruz hunkered down next to him.? He stood in a squat like a farmer, like he might run his hands through the deep rich soil.? Smoke figured he couldn't stand like Cruz was doing now even on his best days.?
Cruz's voice took on a conspiratorial tone.
"They're going to kill you.? You know that already.? What you don't know, and what you're probably wondering, is why they're bothering to bring you down to New York when we could do it just as easily here.? I'm going to tell you, you know why?? Because I don't like to see anybody suffer needlessly, and you seem like a pretty good guy."
"Thanks," Smoke said.? He made an effort to swallow.
Cruz went on.? "You worry them, you understand?? Here's a guy who's involved in big jobs over the years, suddenly up and disappears.? Kills a guy.? Steals a lot of money.? Sinks his boat in a storm.? You didn't think anybody bought that lost at sea bullshit, did you?"? He smiled.? "No, nobody bought it.? They've been looking for you the whole time.? You're an important man."?
Cruz paused, as if in reflection.?
"There was something you did that had to be kept real quiet, am I right?? Yeah, I am right.? So they want to know who you talked to about this thing during three long years away.? Did you talk to girlfriends?? Did you talk to a shrink?? To a priest?"
"I didn't talk to anybody," Smoke said, giving up the charade that he wasn't the man they wanted.? "I kept it to myself."
Cruz turned to look at the two men standing behind him.? Then he turned back to Smoke.? "And the money?"
"Safe deposit boxes.? Six different banks.? Four here in town.? One in Boston.? One up in Quebec City.? In case I had to run."??
Cruz nodded solemnly.? "I believe you.? But they're not going to.? They're going to torture you, you understand?? They're going to cut your teeth out, one by one.? They're going to crush your balls.? They're going to break your fingers and toes.? They're going to impale you through the ass on a stick.? They're going to cut your eyes out.? They're going to do whatever they want.? If you talked to anybody, they're going to find out, and it's going to be a slow process.? The way you can beat that, and die quickly, is to tell them everything up front, right away."
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