Pronto Page 19

  Raylan drove to Jimmy Cap's house in a confiscated Jaguar sedan he happened to have the keys to; stopped at the gate on Pine Tree Drive and reached out to press the button below the speaker in the stone pillar. A voice that sounded like a recording said, "State your name and the nature of your business."

  Raylan said to the speaker grille, "This is Deputy United States Marshal Raylan Givens. I have business of a confidential nature with Mr. Capotorto. I'd appreciate your opening the gate so I don't have to drive this car through it." He had to wait about five minutes before the gate opened and he went up the drive lined with coconut palms and shrubs to his favorite type of house, a tan-colored hacienda with dark-wood trim and a red tile roof. Some guy let him in. Raylan looked around, heard steps clicking on the terrazza floor, and there was Nicky and a blond-haired girl in a black T-shirt. Nicky said something to her. Raylan watched her look this way, a cute girl, right out front about studying him. She walked off. Nicky said to the guy who'd opened the door, "It's okay, Jack," and motioned for Raylan to follow him. They went down a hall and came to an open-air kind of room with white furniture, the pool and patio right outside. Jimmy Cap was sitting on the sofa, taking up half of it in a white robe.

  Nicky said, "You want me to pat him down?"

  Raylan had to smile. He waited while Jimmy Cap looked him over and said, finally, "So you're the cowboy."

  Raylan touched his hat brim. "With the Marshals Service, but at the moment acting on my own."

  "And you have something you want to tell me. All right, have a seat."

  "It's of a private nature," Raylan said, easing into a fat white chair. "You don't mind my speaking in front of this boy?"

  "What's it about?"

  "Harry Arno."

  "Go ahead, I don't care."

  Raylan was aware of Nicky standing off to his right, but kept his attention on Jimmy. He said, "I want you to leave Harry alone. Call off your dogs. Anybody touches him I'll hold you responsible and cause you more trouble than you can believe."

  Jimmy kept staring at him, no doubt thinking it over. Raylan wanted to look at Nicky, see what kind of face he was putting on, but knew he'd better stay with Jimmy. Finally Jimmy said, "You're on your own time?"

  "Right now I am. Touch Harry and you become my life's work."

  Jimmy seemed easy enough to talk to; he didn't put on any kind of act. He said, "I don't know why you're looking out for Harry; I don't care either. What I'll do is make you a deal. Take somebody off my hands I don't need and Harry won't have to worry anymore. He can go back to work if he wants, run his book."

  Raylan said, "Are we talking about the Zip? The one you don't need?"

  "Tommy Bucks, the same."

  "Take him off your hands, how?"

  "I don't care, long as I don't see him again. When he's gone, Harry's got nothing to worry about. I give you my word on it. What do you say? You have to think it over or what?"

  Raylan said, "Where's he live?"

  Jimmy looked at Nicky.

  "What's wrong with you?"

  "Nothing."

  Raylan thought he looked mad, or like he was pouting.

  "Tommy still live at the Esther?"

  "Far as I know."

  Jimmy said, "You're not sure, find out."

  "I'm sure." He looked right at Jimmy as he said, "I know Gloria's meeting him there, so that's prob'ly where he lives."

  Jimmy's tone changed. "Meeting him for what?"

  "That's all she said, she's meeting him. Have a drink -- I don't know."

  Raylan stood up. He didn't need to listen to these two pick at each other. Now Jimmy was looking at him again.

  "You don't take your cowboy hat off in the house?"

  Upset about Gloria going out on him, it sounded like, and looking for something to fuss at. Raylan said, "Being in your house has nothing to do with it. My hat stays on 'cause I won't take it off to you or anybody like you." He looked at Nicky again as he turned to go. "What was that, the Hotel Esther? Ocean Drive about Fourteenth?"

  Nicky moved his big shoulders. "Around there."

  Raylan said, "Thank you."

  He knew where it was: one block up the street from where Harry lived.

  The Zip said to Gloria, "I got another word for you. See that guy? The one in the shorts, thinks he's hot stuff?"

  Walking by in a tank top and tight athletic shorts.

  "Nice buns," Gloria said.

  "The word for him is frocio, a fag."

  "Frocio," Gloria said, putting on her accent. "There's one I want to ask you. How do you say fuck off?"

  "You say va fa in culo."

  Gloria tried it. "I used to hear guys, I thought they were saying fangool."

  "Yeah, that's close."

  The waitress came with their iced tea and Gloria said, "Va fa'n culo," as though she was thanking her. She said to the Zip, "You want to see a lot of frocios, you ever been to the Warsaw Ballroom on Collins? The straights go to Egoiste, but the Warsaw's more fun." She sipped her iced tea and said, "We're a little north of the action, Tommy," looking around at the tables on the porch and the sidewalk in front of the Esther: all tourists, but none of the trendies from New York City. "This is kind of the edge of nowhere." When she arrived Gloria had walked up to Tommy the Zip sitting at the table in his white silk sports jacket and black silk shirt open at the neck, the Zip casual this Saturday afternoon, and said, "Hey, we're twins." Both of them in black and white.

  He said now, "Okay, tell me what's going on."

  Gloria gave him a look over the rim of her iced-tea glass. "What do I get?"

  "You mean if you don't tell me? What do I do to you? Let's see..."

  "Nicky wants to whack you out."

  "You're kidding me. He told you that?"

  "He told Jimmy and Jimmy told me."

  "He's a joke, Nicky. I could stand with my back to him all night, off someplace nobody sees us, he could never do it. I believe he's frocio. He jumps you so you won't get it in your head he's queer and tell Jimmy."

  "Who says he jumps me?"

  "I just said it."

  "He'd like to." Gloria shook her head. "I got a three-hundred-and-fifty-pounder likes to lay on top of me as it is. Can you picture that?"

  "How do you do it?"

  "Like the bow-wows, doggie fashion. Man, it's a full-time job. I'm sure as hell not going to entertain this muscle-bound geek on the side. Those guys, those bodybuilders, they're always picking you up, flexing, looking at themselves.... They won't fuck unless it's in front of a mirror. What I need is a normal guy for a change," looking the Zip in the eye.

  He said, "We get some time I'll give you what you need. What I like is for you to help me kill a guy. I don't mean I want you to do it, that's my job. But you can help me."

  Gloria wasn't sure she wanted to. She frowned at the Zip as she said, "How?"

  "See, what I do is call this guy and tell him I want to talk to him, settle a dispute we have between us, a misunderstanding. He's going to think I'm setting him up and he's right, that's what I'm doing. So I have to get him to trust me."

  She was interested and liked the Zip's accent; it was soothing.

  "How do you do that?"

  "I tell him he can choose where we meet, a public place like a restaurant, lot of people around, so he'll think, Sure, he can't do nothing to me there. And that's where I do it. Pop him, get up, and walk away."

  Gloria hunched over the table. "But people will see you."

  "Yeah, what? Ask them, they all see something different. One or two witnesses, they can identify you. A lot of people there, you got no problem."

  "Jimmy's going to freak. He's already scared to death of you."

  The Zip raised his eyebrows. "Oh, is that right?"

  "You know that," Gloria said, still looking right at him and getting some sparkle in her blue eyes. "Can I watch you do it?"

  "Sure, you'll be there."

  "What do I do?"

  Raylan saw them as he approached th
e Hotel Esther from across Ocean Drive: three stories of rounded Art Deco corners, cream and aqua: all the tables occupied and the two of them at a table for four on the porch, out of the sun: the little girl pressed against the table to get closer to the Zip, hear what he was telling her. Raylan walked up the two steps to the porch they called "Dining on the Terrace" and over to the table. The Zip had stopped talking and was looking at him. Raylan stood at one of the empty chairs and touched the brim of his hat to the girl looking at him now.

  He said, "Miss, your name's Gloria Ayres?"

  She seemed surprised. "Yeah?"

  "I'd like you to be a witness to what I'm going to tell this fella. Will you do that?"

  She looked at the Zip. "Is he for real?"

  The Zip said, "Listen to what he has to say," still looking at Raylan. "Is this official business? You have a warrant or something?"

  Raylan shook his head. "I've come on my own, like the last time."

  The Zip was quiet, maybe trying to guess what was in Raylan's mind. He seemed curious. Finally he said, "Okay, what do you want to tell me?"

  "Here's the deal," Raylan said. "I'm giving you twenty-four hours to get out of this county and never come back." Raylan looked at his watch. "That means you have until... two-fifteen tomorrow afternoon to clear out. If I see you're still around after that, I won't hesitate to shoot you on sight. You have any questions?"

  The Zip hadn't moved as Raylan spoke. He said, "The fuck you talking about?"

  "That's your question?"

  "You think you can make me leave?"

  "It's your choice," Raylan said. "You go of your own free will. If you choose to stay, then I'm coming after you with a gun. I won't give you much of a warning, if any, though I doubt I'd shoot you in the back. If for some reason I was to find you unarmed? I'll keep in mind Robert Gee wasn't armed either."

  Gloria said, "Wait a minute," looking at the Zip and then turning to Raylan again. "Aren't you a cop?"

  "United States deputy marshal."

  "Well, you can't shoot somebody just 'cause you happen to feel like it."

  "He does," Raylan said.

  Gloria kept staring at him.

  "Doesn't he?"

  She didn't answer.

  "So I thought, okay, we'll play by his rules." Raylan looked at the Zip now in his sporty black-and-white outfit. "You have till tomorrow afternoon," Raylan said. "Two-fifteen."

  Chapter Twenty-Six.

  Gloria told Nicky it wasn't like he was actually threatening the Zip, because he didn't say it that way. It was like leave town or I'll kill you. Okay? No, it was leave the county, that was what he said, or I'll come after you with a gun. "With his cowboy hat on," Gloria said, "cocked down on one eye. I couldn't believe it. Get out of the county by -- listen to this. Get out of the county by two-fifteen tomorrow. Exactly twenty-four hours from when he was saying it."

  Gloria had just come in the door and was in the kitchen telling Nicky about it while he got the bucket of ice water and hand towels ready, the ones Gloria used to wipe Jimmy down. It was almost time for his 3:00 to 4:00 p. M. sunbath. "So after, I asked him what he was going to do." Nicky said, "Yeah?" wanting to hear about it without seeming too interested.

  "He goes, 'I'm not going to do nutting about this,'" Gloria giving her version of the Zip's accent. "'You know why? 'Cause he ain't going to do nutting. All he was trying to do was scare me.'"

  "I don't know," Nicky said, seeing the cowboy up on that ridge, telling Fabrizio if he took another step he'd shoot him.

  "Tommy goes, 'You ever hear of a fed walk up and shoot somebody? Sure, they might do it, but they don't tell you about it first, ask you to be a witness to what he's saying,' like he did me. He even knew my name. Tommy goes, 'I'll take care of this cowboy after.'"

  "He was here," Nicky said.

  "I know, I saw him."

  "That's right, I forgot."

  "No, you didn't. Nicky? What do you want to tell me?"

  "Nothing."

  "Come on, I know you, Nicky. What?" Like talking to a muscle-bound baby. "You told Jimmy something while the cowboy was here, didn't you?" She was getting close. She said, "You told the cowboy where the Zip lives. That's how he knew--" Gloria stopped. "What else? Come on, Nicky."

  "I told them that's where you went."

  "Oh, shit."

  "It slipped out."

  "Thanks a lot, you creep. Now I have to think of something to tell Jimmy."

  "I couldn't help it."

  "Nicky, do you hear yourself? The guy who wants to whack out the Zip -- you sound like a little kid. You know how you're going to do it?"

  "I'm working on an idea."

  "Well, if you want to see how it's done--" Gloria paused. "Don't tell anybody, but Tommy's going to take out Harry Arno tomorrow."

  Nicky said, "Come on, how do you know?"

  "That's what I went to talk to him about."

  "He told you he's going to do it?"

  "He wants me to help him."

  "You kidding?" It didn't make sense. "Does Jimmy know about it?"

  "It's going to be a surprise."

  "He'll freak."

  "That's what I told Tommy, my exact words."

  "He'll go hide in the closet. You going to tell him?"

  "No, and don't you either. I want to see his face when he hears."

  "You're helping him? What do you do?"

  "I give Tommy the gun."

  It was funny, Joyce asking him where he lived after they'd spent the night together. He explained he'd bought a house expecting his family to come once they sold the place in Brunswick, Georgia. It was a ranch in North Miami off 125th Street, not too far from the Broad Causeway, the one he took to get to Miami Beach. Joyce said she'd like to see the house sometime. When he told her all it had in it was a bed, two plastic lawn chairs, a card table, and a twelve-inch TV, she said, "Are you going to show me the house or not?" It was way too early to discuss marriage or even the possibility, but Raylan had the feeling Joyce would like to set up housekeeping and try it again.

  He didn't know what would happen tonight, Saturday, if they were going to Joyce's or what. Six P. M. they arrived at Harry's with Chinese takeout. He had told Joyce last night he couldn't think of anything he didn't like to eat, though in the Chinese food line he'd only had chop suey and the other one. He had never heard of any of the dishes they had in the sack, standing at the door to Harry's apartment still talking, grinning at each other. After a minute or so they knocked again and waited some more. Finally the door opened.

  Raylan said, "Harry--"

  As Harry said, "Guess who I just got done talking to." Sounding pleased with himself.

  He said those guys would never admit they made a mistake. What must've happened, they put some bozo in to run the sports book who didn't know the system, who owed and who didn't, and got it all fucked up. So they have the Zip call to suggest a sit-down, like there was a disagreement to discuss. That was the way those guys had to do it. The Zip referred to it as, listen to this, "the dispute between us."

  Joyce said to him, "You haven't seen Raylan since Rapallo."

  "I nodded, I acknowledged him. Excuse me, but I got something on my mind here." Harry turned to Raylan to say, "How you doing?" and that was that.

  Joyce gave him kind of a worried look and Raylan shrugged. They got ready to eat then, serving themselves out of the cartons on the table. Raylan liked the looks of the Mongolian Beef. Harry said, "Sit where you want," taking his plate over to the sofa where a drink was waiting on the coffee table. Joyce sat down next to him, looking at the drink. Raylan stayed at the table with the takeout cartons. He tried the chopsticks and picked up a fork. He could watch Joyce using hers and not have to pay close attention yet to what Harry was saying. It sounded like he was taking credit for the phone call and bragging on himself. It was hard to tell how much he'd had to drink. Joyce was with him earlier in the afternoon and she said he was fine then.

  "You have the urge," Harry said
, "you want to tell him, 'You moron, this isn't a dispute. Somebody set me up and you guys bought it. You took the word of a colored guy you don't even know over mine. Why, because you won't accept even the possibility somebody skimmed you and got away with it. So I sit down with the Zip, this Sicilian hard-on, and act grateful to be there. Kiss his ass in front of a hundred people, the contract's forgotten. And if I want to run the book again, like it's an afterthought, fine. In other words if I want, I can start skimming on them again Monday. Back in the saddle again. You know that one, Tex?"

  "Out where a friend is a friend," Raylan said.

  "Where's your hat?"

  "I didn't wear it this evening."

  "That was it, I didn't recognize you. You come in, I'm thinking, Who's this guy with my girlfriend?"

  Joyce, sitting over there next to Harry, gave Raylan that worried look again.

  He let it go.

  "Harry, where you meeting him?"

  "The Terrace, the cafe at the Esther."

  "That's where he lives."

  "So? It's only a block up the street."

  "What time?"

  "One. Have a bite while we settle our dispute, as he calls it."

  "Phone him a few minutes after one," Raylan said, "and tell him you'll meet him someplace else. Like across the street, the Cardozo."

  "You think he's setting me up?"

  "Why take a chance?"

  "He let me name where we're meeting."

  "And you picked his hotel?"

  "We talked about different places, he mentioned that one, and I said okay. I didn't pick his hotel."

  "Harry trusts him," Joyce said, "because he thinks they need him."

  "I'll bet money on it," Harry said. "I pick the place, I can pat him down if I want. These are his inducements."

  "So you do trust him."

  "Not ordinarily, no."

  "He wants to," Joyce said, "more than anything."

  Raylan said, "What about guys that work for him? Or some gun thug he's hired to come by while you're talking? You're outside there, they could drive by and do it."

  Harry started eating again. He didn't seem worried.

  "If you phone him at his hotel and he goes in to take the call," Raylan said, picturing it from across the street, "he could call whoever's doing the job while he's in there, tell his guy or this gun thug where to go. So you don't want to call. There has to be another way to do it."