Cat Chaser Part 25

"They're open."

"Well, why don't you say something, for Christ sake?"

"I want to hear you," Jiggs said.

Nolen went over to the card table. He reached up to switch on the hanging fixture that was like an oil lamp with a gla.s.s chimney. He saw the suitcases were unfastened, unzipped, and looked at Jiggs again.

"Go ahead," Jiggs said.

Nolen lifted the flap of a suitcase and let it fall open. He saw newspapers. He saw the front page of the Miami Herald Miami Herald telling him Haitians had drowned in the surf at Hillsboro. He felt down under the papers. He threw back the flap of the other suitcase and saw more newspapers and felt through them all the way to the bottom. He looked at Jiggs, squinting at him. telling him Haitians had drowned in the surf at Hillsboro. He felt down under the papers. He threw back the flap of the other suitcase and saw more newspapers and felt through them all the way to the bottom. He looked at Jiggs, squinting at him.

"The general see us coming?"

"Nah, it wasn't the general."

"Well, did you have a talk with him? Christ!" Nolen whipped around, c.o.c.ked his weapon as he stomped toward the hallway.

"I said it wasn't him," Jiggs said.

He waited, a clear picture of a rainy afternoon in his mind: Moran throwing the same kind of luggage into the back seat of a beat-up Mercedes, girlfriend who was way ahead of everybody behind the wheel of the getaway car. He heard Nolen scream: "Jesus Christ!"

And waited for him to appear: barely moving in his shroud raincoat, gunhand hanging limp, like he'd been hit over the head and was now about to fall.

"It was your buddy," Jiggs said. "Son of a gun beat us to it."

"My settlement," Mary said, on the floor next to the open suitcase. "Now do you love me?" She had taken off her wet clothes, chilled, and held a cotton bedspread around her like an Indian blanket; a young girl at a pajama party eager to have fun. She said, "What's the matter, can't you say anything? You're looking at it, but you still can't believe it, huh?"

"I believe it," Moran said without emotion.

He sat in his s.h.i.+rt and Jockeys on the edge of the sofa, hunched over in lamplight to look at the stacks of currency, packets of brand-new hundred-dollar bills, rows of them filling the suitcase, remembering Scully telling him about the Igloo coolers and a hundred thousand stacking up to less than a foot high. He felt vulnerable and wished he had run across to his house to change first. He'd 321.

brought Mary here because of the three suitcases, because he thought she'd need more room for clothes than his house could offer.

He said, "All three are full of money?"

"No, two," Mary said. "I brought a few things, but I didn't want to load myself down."

"How much's in there?"

"I don't know exactly. It looks like a million one hundred thousand in each bag. But anything over two million Andres gets back. I only want what I have coming."

"You didn't count it?"

"George, this's the first time I've even seen it. I made the switch while Andres was downstairs in his den."

"The switch-you sound like a pro."

"No, it's my first job. I was gonna call a cab and then I found out you were on the way. My hero." She looked at him curiously, smile fading to a slight frown. "Does money make you nervous? What's the matter?"

He was looking at the scene on Arvida, flas.h.i.+ng lights reflecting in the rain. "Andres and Corky came out with two suitcases, just like these."

"He has at least a dozen Louis Vuitton," Mary said. "I think he must have stock in the company. He kept two bags packed with his traveling money, always ready."

"Where'd he hide them?"

"You guessed it the other day and thought you were kidding. Under the bed."

"Come on-just sitting there? Not locked up?"

"Under two hundred and fifty gallons of water and inside a marble safe that looks like the pedestal of his bed. There's a tiny hole at the foot you can barely see. You slide in a magnetic key that's like a long needle and part of the marble slides open."

Moran said, "He trusted you?" and sounded surprised, thinking of her with Andres now rather than in the beginning.

"Why not?" Mary said, thinking of herself with Andres in that time before. "Something to impress the bride, a fortune under the marriage bed. Vanity, George. And if he hasn't trusted me lately, well, a cheater isn't necessarily a thief. He tends to sell women short."

"But what's in the bags Andres took? They weren't empty, were they?"

"No, I pulled out the suitcases with the money and then I thought, What if he gets suspicious when he sees me leave and runs upstairs to check? So I packed two other suitcases with old newspapers and shoved them under the bed. The worst part was carrying an armload of papers upstairs. I thought sure he'd see me and I couldn't think of a good story."

323.

"You planned this? How come you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't plan it, I just did it."

Moran finally smiled; he couldn't help it. And for a few moments felt better about the whole thing.

"I was mad. My mouth hurt." Mary raised a hand to touch her face and the bedspread slipped from one shoulder. "Now, I can't believe I did it... Do you see a problem?"

Moran said, "Do I see a problem problem?" He reached over as if reminded and turned off the lamp. He could still see the neat stacks of currency. "Mary, I don't think problem's problem's the word." the word."

He was up now, moving to the window next to the door, parting the draperies to look out at the courtyard in a pale glow, a solemn stillness after the storm. It would be dark soon, dull light to dark without the color of sunset this evening.

She stared at his bare legs, s.h.i.+rttails hanging to cover the Jockey briefs. She thought about making a grab at him, get his attention.

"George, if Andres wants to fight about it, okay, we'll go to court. I'll bring the original prenuptial agreement-I hate that word-and the amendment he forced me to sign. It doesn't even look like my signature."

Moran didn't seem to be listening.

He said, "We've got to get out of here. I'm gonna run over and get some clothes on." He was still watching through the opening in the draperies. "We could hide the money ...No, we'd better just go, quick." He glanced at her now. "Get dressed. And bring the wet things, don't leave 'em."

She said, "George, if Andres comes it's because he knows the money's here. We won't let him have it, that's all. I'll tell him to see me in court."

Moran turned from the window now. "And if Jiggs Scully comes, what do you tell him?" He picked up his jeans from a chair, wet and stiff, and pulled them on as Mary watched, eyes staring wide now, holding the bedspread around her. He said, "I'll be right back," and went out the door.

It gave her time to think, to relive the act, the awful anxiety of carrying an armload of newspapers up that open stairway, finding the key in the medicine cabinet of Andres's bathroom, down on the floor with her heart pounding pulling the suitcases out then retracing, replacing the key, taking the suitcases to her room, trying to compose herself, finally walking out past Andres . . . going through all that so she could give two million two hundred thousand dollars to Jiggs Scully? She thought, I've never even spoken to him.

It gave her a strange feeling because she could not think of a compelling reason to be afraid of 325.

Jiggs Scully, except that Moran was and Moran knew him.

She dressed in sweater and slacks and waited, sitting on the arm of a chair to look out through the draperies at the empty courtyard in the beginning of nighttime darkness, watching his house, waiting for some sign of him. Gone longer now than she'd expected. The door opened and she jumped.

Then let her breath out in relief. "G.o.d, you scared me. Where'd you come from?" He moved to the window without answering, parted the draperies to look out and she said, "We're too late, aren't we?"

"They're out in front," Moran said.

For several minutes they watched the courtyard in silence, until a figure in a long coat appeared out of shadow, walking toward the beach. He seemed uncertain, almost as though he were lost.

"It's Nolen," Moran said, but didn't move from the window.

21.

NOLEN REACHED THE SIDEWALK facing the beach-front, looked around disoriented, hearing the ocean but no other sounds, missing something. That amber glow at the door to each of the units. No lights showed, not in Moran's house, the office, anywhere; it gave him a spooky feeling, like the place was closed, out of business. He walked over to Moran's bungalow, opened the screen and banged on the door three times, so he could say he did. Then walked around to a side window to look in the house. There was nothing to see. An empty pitcher and two gla.s.ses on the counter, in faint light from the kitchen window. It seemed a week ago, drinking sours with Moran. He felt useless, in need of a lift. In need of a guide, he thought, stumbling through the lounge chairs now to make his way around the pool. A beer would hit the spot. Christ, even a c.o.ke. But he walked past the machine in the alcove, went out toward streetlight reflections on empty cars and wet pavement.

Jiggs stood on the sidewalk by the Coconut Palms office.

"They're not there," Nolen said. "n.o.body home."

"That's funny, isn't it," Jiggs said, "with his car sitting there."

Nolen wondered if Jiggs was going to bust the door in. But Jiggs turned to look in through the dark office, through the windows on the other side, to study the courtyard in moonlight and he seemed calm. Never any different, Nolen reminded himself. Never upset, never excited about anything.

"How many units in there?"

"I think twelve," Nolen said.

"How many're occupied?"

"None of 'em. There's n.o.body here."

"They could be in any one of those rooms."

"I think they're gone," Nolen said.

Jiggs turned from the office window. "He picked her up, he was getting her outta there, that's all. They were going on a trip they'd be up around Orlando by now, or the car'd be at Miami International. They're around here somewhere."

"Maybe they went to get something to eat."

"Stroll down the corner," Jiggs said. "That's what I'd do I thought somebody was coming after me."

Nolen said, "Yeah, but wait now, get in their head. They wouldn't know it's us coming any 329.

more'n we know for sure sure his wife had the money when she left home. Maybe it's still in de Boya's house." his wife had the money when she left home. Maybe it's still in de Boya's house."

Jiggs was patient. He said, "De Boya thought he had it. If he didn't, who does that leave? You listening or you still smashed? Look, what I want you to do, Nolen, go in there in your room and keep your eyes open. Moran comes out, you been in a bar all day, you don't know anything what he's talking about. Stay awake till I get somebody to come over and take a look around. I'll try and get Speedy, but you got to stay awake till he comes."

"Who's Speedy?"

"For Christ sake you spent the night with him out cruising the bay. The guy Santos, with the Donzi. I want somebody check the place out isn't gonna fall over the furniture. I want to keep things as is for now so you can hit the sack and I can go up the corner, the Howard Johnson's and get my eight hours. Then in the morning, we need a couple more guys I'll get 'em. But you'll be awake, have your shower and shave by then, right?"

Nolen began to nod, concentrating, trying to get his mind working.

"No booze tomorrow, nothing," Jiggs said. He studied Nolen a moment. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"I don't see where you need a lot of guys ...or you have to hurt anybody," Nolen said. "Just take it, get out."

"Jesus Christ," Jiggs said, "you think I want to bring some guys in, now now, we know it where it is? I'm talking about a little surveillance, that's all. I want to know Moran and the broad're here and what room the suitcases're in. The sun comes out, looks like a pretty nice day-I want 'em to think, well, maybe we're okay, nothing to worry about, no reason to run or call the cops. It's not like hitting a bank, a liquor store; I don't do that. I want to come in here tomorrow have a quiet talk with 'em. Show 'em where we stand, say thank you and leave. I don't want a lot of confusion, somebody calls the cops, some old blue-haired broad up there in her condo. It's too hard to talk you know the cops're on the way. No, I want everybody to be relaxed, their heads clear, their hands away from the buzzer.

"Just talk to 'em," Nolen said.

"I think that's the way to handle it," Jiggs said, "don't you?"

Watching at the window reminded him of times in Santo Domingo during his war: a motel yard or a narrow empty street at night were much the same, waiting for the unexpected, trying to sense or antic 331.

ipate a sign of movement. Not wanting to see that muzzle flash. The vital difference was he didn't have an M-14 in his hands. It would be an M-16 today or he would settle for Nolen's .45 with its stopping power at close range and feel much better about the shadows along the edge of the beachfront wall and over back of his house and along the motel units fronting on the street. Nolen had appeared and left. A figure-it became Nolen without his raincoat-appeared again in moonlight reflecting on the office windows and disappeared into shadow. It was nearly two hours later he saw the door to Number Five open and a light go on, Nolen again, a glimpse of him before the door closed. Nolen had finally ceased his wandering and was home. After that was only the sound of the ocean.

Mary said, "You saw Jiggs; you're certain that's who it was."

"I saw Nolen's car pull in," Moran said. "I was going to the office to leave Jerry a note, tell him I'd be gone a few days. I saw Nolen get out of his car as Jiggs pulled up in that red and white Cadillac, you can't miss it. They had to have seen my car. Then after that Nolen wanders around, probably checked the bar up on the corner-where am I? I've got to be here somewhere. But that doesn't mean they think you're here too."

"I left the house with you. Jiggs saw us."

"I could've dropped you off, taken you to the airport."

"He knows better than that," Mary said. "And if he thinks we have the money, well, the only way would be if he's found out Andres doesn't have it."

Moran said, "He might think Andres faked him out and the money's still at home."

She said, "Do you believe that?"

"It's possible."

"You wouldn't bet on it though," Mary said. "You don't want to come out and say it because if Jiggs opened Andres's suitcases the chances are Andres is dead. Isn't that right?"

In the dark of the room he didn't have to answer immediately. He a.s.sumed Andres was dead and realized, now, Mary accepted the possibility.

She said, "If I find out he is, I doubt if I'll feel much grief, and I'm sure not gonna pretend to. But I'll tell you something, Moran," her voice gaining a quiet force, an unmistakable edge. "I don't know Jiggs Scully, I've never even spoken to him. But I'll be G.o.dd.a.m.ned if I'm gonna give him my money. It absolutely infuriates me, that he thinks he can walk in and I'll simply hand it over. I've been sitting here wondering, is Andres dead? I have a feeling he is. Then do I call the police? What do I tell them? 'I think somebody killed my husband, at least it's possible, and now he's after my boyfriend, my lover 333.

and me.' Do you like it so far? 'He's after us because we've got over two million dollars, cash cash, in a couple of suitcases ...' And you know the first thing they'll ask?"