Devil May Care

by Wade Miller

  Red had been waiting across the street to see who would claim the large brown envelope. He had been waiting to see who would claim the identity of B. Venn.

  Biggo made animal noises in his throat. Ensenada wasn't so much his oyster as he had begun to think. He had a hunch he had just dodged Magolnick's assassin, the factor out to stop him at any cost. Somehow Red had narrowed the suspicious arrivals in Ensenada down to the mysterious B. Venn who had shown up two days ago and then disappeared.

  "Maybe he's still on a routine check, still narrowing down," Biggo growled. "Maybe there's others still on his list."

  Routine or not, he couldn't see himself going back to the Hotel Comercial. Not even if Red was the Jaccalone representative, with twenty thousand dollars in his pocket. He couldn't afford to trust either side; he didn't care for this role of sitting duck. The manager would remember-might have remembered aloud already-that his guest had made a telephone call to Cleveland. Red probably had a vague description of B. Venn, anyway.

  B. Venn had to disappear again.

  That might not be so easy, Biggo reflected. He came out of the alley and turned west. Two people in town knew him by name. But he had scared Jinny away and that left one, like a kid's game. Lew Hardesty was the kind who would be hard not to run into, especially in a little town like Ensenada. Hardesty would pawn Biggo's life for the price of a drink or maybe just for the joke of it; unless he thought he could make more by throwing in with Biggo. And Hardesty thought he was onto something, he had that gleam in his eye.

  "Damned if I'll cut this thing three ways," Biggo announced to the seagulls. He had come to the embarcadero. He squinted out at the fishing craft, the pleasure boats, the rusty corvettes of the Mexican navy. "I got to move around where Lew isn't likely to be."

  He looked north and saw motels on that edge of town. He decided they wouldn't do since Hardesty had a car and might be at a motel. He looked around at the hills themselves. He could always camp out for a few days; that sort of appealed to him. But it wouldn't solve anything to be out of touch with the town completely. And he might attract attention.

  Biggo looked to the south. He began to rub his jaw, roughing up the bristles. His eyes took in the many-towered whiteness of the Riviera Pacifico, the million dollar resort hotel. It was part of Ensenada and yet detached from it too.

  "Yeah," he said. Out there he would be on a different social level from the middle-class Hotel Comercial. He would be out of Red's way and he doubted that Hardesty would come seeking Biggo Venn in a high-class tourist palace.

  He counted his money again and it was $132. He sighed. That wasn't much for a hotel where the rates started at $16 a day. But maybe this deadlock wouldn't last too long; maybe something had already changed in either the Magolnick or Jaccalone factions. And he comforted himself by remembering that he hadn't had to pay a hotel bill in Ensenada yet. Who could tell how it might work out at the Riviera Pacifico?

  He started to hunt for a cab before he realized again the shape he was in. He couldn't check into the Riviera Pacifico looking as if he had just gotten out of jail-whether it was true or not. He needed cleaning up.

  Biggo walked back to the corner of Avenida Ruiz and peered around cautiously. Red was still at his post opposite the hotel. Biggo muttered, "You've got a wait ahead of you, amigo."

  He made a detour so that he wouldn't pass before Red's eyes again. He spotted a barber shop and went in. As he set down the suitcase, he decided he was getting pretty tired of carrying it back and forth across town. And Biggo decided, when he did get a place to stay, the very first thing he would unpack was going to be his Beretta and some ammunition.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Friday, September 15, 2:00 p.m.

  The barber had a brother who was a tailor. While Biggo had his hair cut, a blanket over his bare legs, the brother pressed his suit two doors away. A Mexican kid shined his shoes. He was the only customer in the shop.

  He read through the newspapers for the past couple of days. He saw no news concerning peacocks except the murder of Zurico. The police hadn't made much of the feather on the body. They were rounding up the various town drunks who had been refused service by Zurico at one time or another.

  During the hot towel part of the shave, Biggo fingered a crevice through the toweling so he could watch who passed along Avenida Ruiz. He didn't see Red or anybody else suspicious. He couldn't really believe anybody was dogging his trail that close but he had fleeting baseless worries which were unusual for him. The Bible was hot on his lap under the blanket. He wondered where the Jaccalone agent was at this moment. Probably in a hotel room around town, peeking out from behind the window blind. He would be stewing over Biggo's possible identity, just as Biggo was over his. "Find you as soon as I can, brother," Biggo murmured. But he didn't know how.

  His suit came back from the tailor. Biggo got a clean shirt out of the suitcase and dressed in the back room. He looked quite different from the bum who had been let out of the calabozo that morning. The mirror gave him back a pleased grin.

  While he was paying the barber $4.50 for the works (leaving his bankroll at $127 plus) he saw a late model Chevy pull up across the street. It was a maroon coupe with California plates. Lew Hardesty drove it. Biggo backed up so he wouldn't be seen.

  But Hardesty wasn't looking his way. Hardesty was sizing up the girl who had just stepped out of La Posada, a neon-fronted American-style bar. The girl had generous curves under a too-warm green suit and she carried a small blue suitcase. She looked bedraggled.

  At the sight of Jinny Wagner, something happened to Biggo's grin; he felt as if he'd swallowed it. He swore.

  "Senor?" the barber inquired politely.

  "Forget it." Biggo knew as sure as fate what was going to happen next before his eyes. The last two people on earth he wanted to have meet.

  It happened. Hardesty slid out of his coupe like a snake, spoke to the girl and took off his panama hat. She forced a smile and said something back. A hesitation later the pickup was accomplished and they both went into La Posada.

  Biggo said, "I told that tart to leave town." He shook his head. He had to break that combination up. Jinny was too likely to tell her troubles to Hardesty. Hardesty had a nose for undercover business; if he couldn't get into Biggo's business, he'd do his best to spoil it.

  "Got a phone?" Biggo asked. It was shown to him. He asked the barber to recommend a garage. Biggo got the number of Hussong's. He told the man who answered that his name was Hardesty and that his car was parked in front of La Posada. "No, I don't know what's wrong with it. That's why I called you. Also I've lost the keys. Get down with your tow car and haul it away as soon as you can."

  "Perhaps we can find the trouble without-"

  "Don't give me any arguments," Biggo said. He figured that if he was nasty the garage might charge Hardesty more. "Just come and take the damn thing away." He craned his neck and read off the license number.

  "Muy bien. Our truck will-"

  "I'll be in La Posada. Call me there the minute you find out what's wrong." He hung up. The barber was regarding him curiously. "Thanks for the phone," said Biggo and picked up his suitcase and hurried across the street. He lifted the Chevy's hood and raked his clawed hand over the engine. Wires broke loose in every direction. Biggo dropped the hood and saw the barber still watching him. He waved.

  He sat down in a nearby doorway and waited patiently for five minutes until the tow truck from Hussong's arrived. Biggo could hear the mechanics speculating over the absence of the ignition key. But they had been told not to disturb the owner, a vile tempered American. At last they hoisted the front wheels of the coupe into the air and took Hardesty's automobile away.

  Satisfied so far, Biggo caught up his suitcase and ambled into La Posada. It was cool and dim after the glare of the street. At first he couldn't see a thing. Then he could see two backs at the bar, Jinny and Hardesty, the only customers. He put on a big smile and strolled over.

  "Small world," he said a
nd gave Hardesty a friendly clap across the kidneys.

  Hardesty's martini dribbled along the bar. "Too damn small, some days," he said. He had been playing with Jinny's hand but now he let go to dry the sleeve of his sport coat.

  Jinny said faintly, "I thought you went to jail." She looked ready to be sick. She held a cracker halfway to her mouth, forgotten.

  "Can't keep a good man down, honey."

  "What's that got to do with you?"

  "You know this fellow?" Hardesty asked Jinny. She didn't know what to say. Hardesty chewed his mustached lip suspiciously. "I just want to know what the set-up is, lady fair."

  Biggo said, "We're old buddy-buddies," and sat down on the other side of Jinny. She edged away from him. The bruises on her face where Biggo had slapped her didn't show too much. She had powdered over them and the light was low. "What are we drinking, Lew?"

  "Make it easy on yourself, Biggo, and don't start anything in front of the young lady. Go somewhere else. Go back to jail."

  "They don't want me any more."

  "Then that makes it unanimous."

  "An angel came down from heaven and turned me loose," said Biggo. "What do you think of that? If neither of you know what an angel is, it's something out of the Bible." He patted his pocket where it was.

  "Here we go with that line again," said Jinny bitterly. There was a dish of cheese and crackers in front of her. She went back to eating the crackers as fast as she could cover them with cheese. "He thinks it's so witty. Get him to tell you about-"

  "Martinis," Biggo ordered the bartender. "Make them dry."

  "I don't want to drink with you," said Jinny. "I don't like one thing about you. You've got hair in your ears. You ought to be out in a field somewhere."

  Hardesty patted her leg. "That sums it up, all right." He and Biggo looked at each other across Jinny's head. Biggo showed his teeth in a false smile. Hardesty's eyes flickered. "Move on, Biggo."

  "I like it right here, Lew."

  "No!" Jinny begged. "Please, no trouble. Let's let live and not have any trouble. I'm just a girl trying to get along."

  The martinis came and she gave the bartender a pained smile. They drank. Jinny only sipped a little of her drink after she had eaten the olive. The crackers were all gone and she used the toothpick to eat the cheese straight. She turned her back on Biggo so she and Hardesty could talk softly.

  Biggo leaned closer, not wanting to miss anything. It was just sweet talk and Hardesty was toying with the hem of her skirt. But she was working too hard at being picked up.

  She swiveled around when she felt Biggo listening. "Oh, for God's sake, leave me alone!" she cried. "I'm tired of you lousing up my life, Biggo. What's so big about you, anyway? Nothing that I can see except your big mouth."

  Hardesty applauded.

  "Well, it's true. The other day, Lew, all he did was yap, yap, yap about some-"

  Biggo's elbow caught her in the stomach. All her wind gasped out and she bent forward on the bar. Hardesty slid off his stool and came around to see Biggo.

  The phone rang.

  Hardesty drawled, "I think it's about time you and I-"

  The bartender called, "Is one of you gentlemen a Senor Hardesty?" He held up the telephone receiver.

  Hardesty started to finish his remarks. Then he changed his mind and went to the phone. Biggo traded his empty glass for Jinny's nearly full one. He reclined his head on his fist and watched Hardesty's face. It slowly turned from incomprehension to astonishment and then to anger. Hardesty slammed down the receiver. Biggo laughed.

  Hardesty understood. He came back and got his panama and jammed it down on his head. He said, without much malice, "Oh, you son of a bitch, you," and went out, not giving Jinny a second glance.

  She still had her forehead resting on the bar. Biggo tapped her shoulder. "Hey, kid, you all right?"

  She raised her face and looked at him, eyes huge and watery. "I'm all right." She fell off the bar stool sideways, hitting another one on the way down.

  Biggo picked her up off the floor. The bartender came out from behind the bar, chattering like a monkey. Jinny was breathing regularly but she was out cold. Biggo rocked her against his chest and muttered angrily, "The poor kid." He felt ashamed of himself. She looked younger now that she had passed out. She was as forlorn a sight as he'd seen for some time.

  The bartender was chattering something about a doctor. Biggo shut him Up. "Get her some food. She's hungry, that's what's the matter with her." He carried her over to a shadowy booth and propped her up in a corner. He unbuttoned the front of her green suit. He got some water from the bar tap and used his handkerchief to bathe her forehead. She opened her eyes and stared, getting him in focus.

  He said, "I'm having them bring some food over."

  "Thanks, I guess." She closed her eyes again and whimpered despairingly. "What makes me so obvious to you? I don't want to have anything to do with you."

  "When did you eat last?"

  "Oh, I don't know. I guess the last real meal was the one you bought me the other night. I haven't got any money."

  "Zurico's brother wouldn't take you back, huh?" Biggo had already forgotten he had tried to run her out of town.

  Without opening her eyes, Jinny passed her hand over her face. The water had washed away the powder, revealing the bruises and swelling. "I don't even look good enough for Zurico's. Thanks to you."

  "I didn't ask you to give me the knockout drops, honey."

  "All right, all right. Where's Lew?" Her eyes popped open, panicky. "Oh, God, did he leave? Did you get rid of him too, Biggo?"

  "He left."

  She slumped. "Thanks again."

  "For what?"

  "For nothing, you dumb elephant! For scaring off the only real live meal ticket I've seen in the last couple days, that's what!" She flattened her hands over her face. When she took them down again, she looked frightened.

  She asked him, as if he were someone new, "What am I going to do, Biggo?"

  The food came, Mexican fare from the restaurant next door. Jinny wolfed it down hurriedly, apparently afraid he might take it away from her. Biggo smoked a cigarette and watched her. He was considering a stray idea.

  He said, "That's a good question. What are you going to do, honey?"

  "I don't know," she said sullenly. "Maybe I'll go to the police. They'd probably send me back to the States." She added with a flash of venom, "Maybe they'd like to know what you were doing with that gun. The one in your suitcase."

  Biggo grunted. She could be dangerous, all right. "What do you think I was doing with it?"

  "Well, I don't know." She hadn't gotten that far. She remembered something. "Zurico was shot, wasn't he?"

  "So was Lincoln. Doesn't mean a thing."

  "Wait a minute, wait a minute." Her forehead wrinkled and she thought as she tried to get some more food off the empty plate. Jinny said slowly, "I read that when Zurico was found, there was a feather, a peacock feather. And that first day you came into his bar, you kept talking about…" Her eyes got excited and she sat up straight.

  Biggo smiled amiably. He gazed at her and blew smoke in her face. "Suits me," he said. "Let's go to the police."

  She was easy to bluff. A second later she dropped her eyes. "I don't know," she said vaguely.

  Biggo said, "How'd you like a job? One with not much work to it. Good food. Nice place to stay, pleasant surroundings, good company."

  "You kidding, Biggo?"

  "No."

  "Do you really have connections like that? What do I have to do?"

  "Pretend you're my wife for a few days."

  "Not a chance," she said flatly. Td rather go to the police. I'd rather keep on bumming drinks and eating free crackers."

  "Don't kid yourself. This is just a business deal and nothing more." He had it all worked out in his mind. Red would be watching for a lone man at a middle-class hotel. But Biggo, under a new name, was going to turn into a married man at a high-class hotel. Reminded of
a couple more selling points, he said, "Then, in a few days, I'll give you that airplane ticket to Frisco. I just need a wife for a little while out at the Riviera Pacifico."

  The airplane ticket sounded good to her, Biggo could tell. So did the Riviera Pacifico. She rolled the name on her tongue. She hesitated. "Just business. No monkey business? I don't trust you a bit, Biggo."

  All at once, with that idea, they were eying each other like two animals. He was conscious that their knees were warm together under the table and so was she because she swung hers away with a rasp of hosiery against his pants legs. And she discovered that the front of her suit was open. She buttoned it quickly but all that did was confirm the fullness of her breasts.

  The animal feeling vanished. She said between her teeth, "You know where you can go."

  He snorted. "You bet, honey. But nobody's asking you to trust me. You're old enough to know when to scream." Biggo cussed her out mentally. Her figure hadn't caused his original idea. Neither had sympathy. All he wanted was to use her as a mask. At the same time he could keep an eye on her, see that she didn't talk about him to anyone. And, when the time came, she might come in handy as trap bait. He might have her walk the trail ahead of him, let her spring the deadfalls instead of himself.

  "Yes," Jinny said a moment later. "I guess I know when to scream."

  "Well, how about it?"

  "I guess so. I don't have much left to lose." She faced him across the small table, obscurely angry. "But get this, Biggo. I'm in it just for the money and that's all. Except that you're going to feed me, I wouldn't walk in the same room with you. I think of myself as the lowest creature on earth but you turn my stomach. I don't know what that makes you but I want you to get my feelings straight."