Cat Chaser Part 16

"He's not our problem. There's a guy that works for your husband on and off, Jiggs Scully. You know him?"

"I know who he is."

"He's been following you. He knows what we're doing and wants to talk to me."

"Oh, G.o.d-"

"Wait. Nolen Tyner-I told you about him. He says Jiggs doesn't have his hand out, he wants to discuss something else entirely, but I don't see any reason to talk to him. Do you?"

"I don't know." Mary was wide-eyed now, gathering it all in. "If he saw us together and he works for Andres..."

"Nolen says he hasn't told Andres. You know why?"

"No."

"He doesn't like him. I feel like we're back in the eighth grade. Here's a guy-" Moran stopped.

"Well, that's beside the point. What Jiggs and Nolen are up to's none of our business. I hope. But I don't want to see us get dragged into it. We got enough going as it is."

"Dragged into what?"

"I don't know, but it's got to have something to do with your husband and they either want to use me-I'm guessing now, you understand-or they want some information from me, or they want me to get it from you."

"Oh-"

The way she said it, like an intake of breath, surprised him. She was thoughtful now, staring. Then took several steps without purpose, moving idly, though he could see she was concentrating, looking down at the boards as she paced toward the railing, aimless, and came back. As she turned again he stopped her.

"You have an idea what it might be?"

Mary sat down now. She eased back into the chair next to him.

"Money. What else?"

"I had that in mind," Moran said. "But what kind of money? How do you rip off a guy like your husband? I mean it's not like going to the bank, make a withdrawal. How do you get it? Extortion? They have something on Andres? It's a feeling I've got more than anything else. I think Nolen and this guy Jiggs are putting something together. But it 199.

wouldn't be a holdup, anything as simple as that. Nolen's not, well, he's a little s.h.i.+fty, but he's not an armed robber. I don't think he'd have the nerve to walk in with a gun. So it would have to be something he thinks is clever or he wouldn't be doing it. If If they've got some kind of scheme in mind." they've got some kind of scheme in mind."

"There's money in the house," Mary said.

Moran waited a moment. "Is that right?" He waited again and was aware of the silence. "You mean a lot of money, huh?"

"Quite a lot," Mary said.

Moran looked out at the bay, at the dark shape of Key Biscayne lying five miles off, on the horizon.

"Is it money he has to hide? I mean, did he get it illegally?"

"I a.s.sume it's from his business. Andres's investments net, before taxes, three to four million a year."

Moran waited. If she wanted to tell him more he'd let her, up to a point.

Mary said, "Remember in Santo Domingo we were talking about Andres? You'd heard he came here in Sixty-one with a fortune. Everyone thought so-he was a millionaire general with a sugar plantation and G.o.d knows what else. But he lost all that. He had to run for his life and he came here with practically nothing."

"I remember."

"And I think I said something about he's never gonna let that happen again. Have to run and leave everything behind."

"You said he'd be ready next time," Moran said. "But I would imagine he has money in a Swiss bank or the Bahamas, one of those numbered accounts."

"I'm sure he does," Mary said, "but if for some reason he's not able to leave the country or he has to hide...All I know is he's got quite a chunk of quick-getaway money right here...in the house."

He could see the two of them at the deep end of the hotel pool . . . the wives of the winter ballplayers in a group . . . "I asked you, where's he keep it, under the mattress?"

Mary was looking at him. She didn't speak right away; she didn't have to. Finally, in the silence, she said, "You want to guess how much?"

"I've got a feeling I know too much already," Moran said. "We've got to get you out of here. Why don't you pack a bag and leave him a note."

"Not yet. I'm gonna talk to him, George, if I have to hit him over the head. Last night, I had all the words ready. 'Andres, listen to me, okay?' Like talking to a child. 'This isn't a marriage. I'm not happy and I know you're not.' And that was as far as I got. He gave me papers to sign. 'Here'-like he hadn't heard a word-'read these and sign them.' "

"What kind of papers?"

"Business. I'm part of his corporation, one of 201.

them. He made a business transaction out of the marriage with that prenuptial agreement and that's all it is, a deal. I'm a member of the board."

"Resign," Moran said.

"Now he's trying to use the agreement to threaten me. He'll amend it so there won't be a settlement if I walk out. I told him fine, I don't care. I said, 'I just want to talk. I want you to understand how I feel.' "

"That didn't impress him?"

"I'll tell you, George, I'm scared to death. You know that," Mary said. She seemed to clench her teeth. "But I'm also getting mad, G.o.dd.a.m.n it."

"Good," Moran said.

"I'm gonna write it down, everything I want to say. Then I'm gonna try once more. If he still won't listen then I'll hand him him the papers this time and that's it, I'm through." the papers this time and that's it, I'm through."

"You promise?"

"You have my word," Mary said.

"Stay mad."

"I am am. I don't owe him a thing."

"If anybody owes anybody," Moran said, and let it go at that. It would be nice to sit with tall drinks and talk about nothing and enjoy the million-dollar view. But his presence was making her nervous. He said, "Write your letter." He touched Mary's shoulder as he got up and left his hand there until she put her hand on his. She was looking up at him through her round sungla.s.ses. More than anything he could think of he wanted to touch her face.

He walked away.

Jiggs Scully was in the road next to his two-tone red and white Cadillac, the car standing within a few yards of the driveway. So that when Moran swung out onto Arvida he had to brake to a stop or run into the Cadillac's rear end. Jiggs came over to him.

He said, "George, how we doing? If you don't have a pair of the biggest ones in town, come right to the man's house there, I don't know who does. You getting reckless or you just had enough of this sneaking around s.h.i.+t, going the Holiday Inn?"

Moran didn't say anything. He wondered if Jiggs had slept in his seersucker coat. He wondered where Jiggs lived and wondered what he thought about when he was alone.

"I'm gonna buy you a drink, George. How about the Mutiny up on Baysh.o.r.e? You know where it is there? Cross from the yacht basin."

"Okay," Moran said.

The room was still nearly full in the early afternoon, the tables occupied by men in disco sport s.h.i.+rts with dark hair and mustaches, a few in business suits, 203.

some of them wearing their sungla.s.ses, some talking on phones brought to the tables. The waitresses, moving among them in skintight leotards, were experienced and familiar with the patrons, calling them by first names or the names they were using.

"You think it looks like a jungle, all the plants and s.h.i.+t," Jiggs said, "it is is a jungle. This's where all the monkeys hang out. Jack a phone in there and make a deal, talk about the product; it's always the product now, and how many coolers it'll cost you. Use clean new hunner-dollar bills, George, a hunner K's maybe twelve inches high, little less. Put a million bucks in a Igloo cooler you look like you're going the beach. These guys kill me, all the hot-s.h.i.+t dealers." He was looking over the room, pus.h.i.+ng his gla.s.ses up on his nose. "About every fifth one you see is making believe he's in the business and about every tenth one's a narc. The mean-looking ones are the narcs, with the hair and the bell-bottoms. f.u.c.king bell-bottoms're out of style, they don't know it. Little guy there looks like he repairs shoes, he's the biggest man in the room. Looks like the Pan-American games, doesn't it? Spic-and-span. They're the spics, George, and me and you, we're the span." Jiggs raised a stubby, freckled hand from the table, fingers spread, and looked at it. "Distance between the tip of your thumb to the tip of your little finger, that's your span." He looked at the back of his hand, then turned it over and looked at the palm. "But I don't see nothing in it, do you, George? No, it's empty. The spics, they got the product, they got all these coolers we hear about. But we're sitting here with our f.u.c.king mitts empty. Why is that? They don't work any harder'n we do. Is it we let 'em have it cause we're kindhearted or what?" a jungle. This's where all the monkeys hang out. Jack a phone in there and make a deal, talk about the product; it's always the product now, and how many coolers it'll cost you. Use clean new hunner-dollar bills, George, a hunner K's maybe twelve inches high, little less. Put a million bucks in a Igloo cooler you look like you're going the beach. These guys kill me, all the hot-s.h.i.+t dealers." He was looking over the room, pus.h.i.+ng his gla.s.ses up on his nose. "About every fifth one you see is making believe he's in the business and about every tenth one's a narc. The mean-looking ones are the narcs, with the hair and the bell-bottoms. f.u.c.king bell-bottoms're out of style, they don't know it. Little guy there looks like he repairs shoes, he's the biggest man in the room. Looks like the Pan-American games, doesn't it? Spic-and-span. They're the spics, George, and me and you, we're the span." Jiggs raised a stubby, freckled hand from the table, fingers spread, and looked at it. "Distance between the tip of your thumb to the tip of your little finger, that's your span." He looked at the back of his hand, then turned it over and looked at the palm. "But I don't see nothing in it, do you, George? No, it's empty. The spics, they got the product, they got all these coolers we hear about. But we're sitting here with our f.u.c.king mitts empty. Why is that? They don't work any harder'n we do. Is it we let 'em have it cause we're kindhearted or what?"

A waitress with a blond ponytail brought their beer and asked Moran what his sign was. He told her Libra and she said, "I was right," not telling him if she thought it was good or bad. She gave him a look though and he smiled.

"You got a nice way with the ladies," Jiggs said. "I admire that. You're quiet, you mind your own business, don't you? Till somebody pushes you. I notice that the night I came by your place, run the piano player off. You stood right in there."

"I'm going," Moran said, "soon as I finish this beer."

Jiggs grinned; his teeth were a mess. "I get talking to my own kind I run off. You talk to these monkeys they stare at you. Subtle-you try and say anything subtle to 'em you get a blank stare. You get what I'm saying but you don't make a big deal out of it. I don't think anything I might say to you would even shock you; I think you been around a couple times. Tell me what you think I got in mind. I'd like to know."

"If it's a payoff so you don't tell de Boya," Moran said, "you're out of luck."

"Come on, George, give me some credit. That's 205.

p.u.s.s.y, that kind of deal; I never stooped to that in my life. Jesus, I'm surprised at you, George."

"Forgive me," Moran said.

"What I do when somebody's paying me, I don't even think about it," Jiggs said. "But when it's my deal I try to be a little selective, stay away from the shlock. You have to understand there's all kinds of opportunity out there, George."

"I'm not looking for work," Moran said. "I've got all I want."

"All right, let me tell you a quick story." Scully hunched in, planting his arms on the table. "Not too long ago I'm out at Calder with Mr. de Boya and a gentleman by the name of Jimmy Capotorto, you may've heard of. He runs Dorado, very influential guy, does a little business with de Boya. Jimmy Cap'll send some cash over there, get it cleaned and pressed in some condo deal, but nothing big. We're at Calder. We're watching the races up in the lounge. I'm placing bets for 'em, getting drinks when the waitress disappears. I'm the gofer, you might say, I'm not sitting there in the party too much. De Boya wins a couple grand, it's on the table there, and Jimmy Cap asks him what he does with his winnings, his loose cash. They start talking about the trouble with money like a couple of broads discussing unruly hair'r split ends, Jimmy Cap saying in Buffalo he used to have a vault in the floor of his bas.e.m.e.nt, but there aren't any bas.e.m.e.nts here. De Boya says you don't need a vault, there a lot of places to hide money it'll be safe. Oh, Jimmy Cap says, like where? De Boya says oh, there lot of places. Jimmy Cap asks him what he needs to stash money for, he's a legitimate businessman, he doesn't deal in cash, what's he trying to do, f.u.c.k the IRS? De Boya says no, he always pays his taxes. Then he says, quote, 'But you don't know when you have to leave very quickly.' Jimmy Cap says use a credit card. I miss some of the next part, I'm s.h.a.gging drinks. I come back, de Boya's saying, 'If I tell you, then you know.' Jimmy Cap says, 'You have my word.' The guinea giving the spic his word. But it's good. That's one thing I have to hand 'em, George. They give their word you don't need it written out and signed. De Boya says then, 'Put away what takes you a year to make and have it close by, so you can take it with you.' Jimmy Cap says, 'That the rule of thumb?' Like getting back to our span, George." Jiggs looked at his hand again. "How much does it hold? How much does a guy like de Boya put away in case he has to slip off in the night and show up in Mexico as Mr. Morales? You follow me?"

"I don't know," Moran said, "how much does he?"

"Later on I'm talking to Jimmy Cap," Jiggs said, "I ask him out of curiosity how much does he think 207.

de Boya makes a year-all the condos, all the land deals. Jimmy Cap says, 'Net? Couple mil, easy.' "

Jiggs waited.

"What do you want me to say?" Moran said.

"Tell me where he keeps it."

"How would I know?"

"You could find out. Ask his missus."

"Why would she tell me?"

" 'Cause she thinks you're cute, George. 'Cause she thinks her husband's a bag of s.h.i.+t. 'Cause she'd like to dump him and play house with you. 'Cause if I knew exactly where it was I could be in and out of there in two minutes and your troubles'd be over."

"Why would they?"

"Because Andres de Boya would be dead, George, and you and the missus could sail off in the sunset."

Moran actually saw a picture of a red sunset, sky-red night . . . but put it out of his mind as he said, "What about Nolen? Is he in it?"

"I tell you the deal, Nolen dresses it up, adds a little inspiration. He's like my p.r. man, George, get you interested. It's the only reason I talked to him."

Moran said, "You've been thinking about this for some time, uh?"

"Walking around it," Jiggs said, "scratching my head. Then you come along and I think, here's a chance to do something for the happy couple. If they'll do a little something for me."

"I think you're crazy."

"I know you do, George, at the moment. But what you got to do is examine your conscience. You Cath'lic?"

"Sort of."

"You remember when you go to confession you examine your conscience? Let's see, I had five hundred impure thoughts and I entertained the idea of killing Sister Mary Cunnagunda. Examine your conscience, George. Go ahead, and tell me if you're doing anything wrong. It's in the intention where the guilt is. Your intention is to give me information. What happens after that is out of your conscience and into mine and I think I can handle it."

"You might be from New York," Moran said, "but you didn't learn to think like that at Ford-ham."

"No, I never quite made it, George. But the inference there, what you're driving at-well, you want to get philosophical and discuss whether a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b from a married woman is the same as committing adultery or you want to make your life easier? I can get the guys and go in with blazing six-guns and tear the place up, we'll find it. But that's the hard way and I can't be responsible if an innocent bystander, if you understand what I mean, gets 209.

in the way. Or we can make arrangements, do it quietly. It's up to you."

"Why're you telling me this?"

Jiggs was patient. He sat back, pushed his gla.s.ses up, then hunched over the edge of the table again. "George, correct me. Didn't I just tell you?"

"I mean how do you know I won't go to the cops?"

"With what, a story? Come on, George, whatever way this goes down, you think I'm gonna be a suspect? Guy like de Boya, you make it look political. Write on his wall 'Death to a.s.sholes' and sign it the PLO or some spic revolutionary party, that's the easy part."

"He's got armed guards," Moran said.

"This town you better," Jiggs said. "No, that's something you take into consideration. But he's only got one guy dumb enough to stand in there with him, young Corky, and I'm taking that into account."

Moran sipped his beer, making it last. Maybe he had time for one more. Carefully then, thinking of what he was saying: "If this money de Boya's got, it's like an emergency fund?"

"Right, case he has to bail out in a hurry."