Elmore Leonard - Raylan

Cuba saying, “I believe I tole you no, Boss, that is one thing the devil never made me do.”

Mr. Harry slapped Cuba’s shoulder, told him, “Get outta here,” the horse lovers laughing, and Mr. Harry joined a front table making room for him.

C uba walked back to the bar raising his hand to people applauding, Cuba nodding, grinning until he reached the bar and Layla set her drink in front of him. Cuba picked it up and finished the vodka without looking around. He said, “You know how many times I been the grateful nigga?”

“Everyone believed you,” Layla said.

“What he said about Old Tom was bullshit. He hired me and fired the old man, why he took sick and died.”

“Watching your skit,” Layla said, “I couldn’t help thinking, one day you’re gonna turn around, take Harry by the throat and strangle him in front of his friends. They’ll think it’s part of the act.”

Cuba said, “Drivin him in the Rolls, I’ve thought of aimin the car to send it off a curve, top of the grade. I bail out and watch the man lose his ass. Car hits and blows up, like in the movies. Real life you don’t get that much explosion. I’m drivin Mr. Harry… the man already has to take a leak. I see in my brights a stretch of road comin up, the side droppin away steep… I say to him, ‘Mr. Harry, get out your dick, we almost there.’ ”

Layla’s eyes on him turned warm. She said, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Try me out,” Cuba said, “it won’t hurt none.”

He watched her take a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of her raincoat-expensive-looking, a shiny black one-waited till she was smoking it before he said, “You know it ain’t allowed in here.”

“If they catch you,” Layla said.

“You like to cause a scene?”

“They say anything I take one more drag,” Layla said, “and put it out.” She moved closer. “Something I’ve wanted to tell you about Harry’s kidneys-”

“The time I brought him in?”

“He comes in once or twice a year.”

“The man takes a leak every twenty, thirty minutes. Set your watch by it.”

“That’s his prostate. His kidneys aren’t too bad. He has a pinched nerve in his lower back.”

“His sacroiliac fuckin with him,” Cuba said. “I had that. Kept me in bed till a chiropractor fixed me up.”

“Harry tells us to get donors with his blood type ready.”

“You need a kidney,” Cuba said, “I thought you had to wait in line.”

“Harry gives a million a year to the hospital fund. The donor gets a hundred grand the moment he shows up.”

“He wants a kidney so bad,” Cuba said, “give him one.”

“Or take the old one out,” Layla said, “and put it back in?”

Cuba grinned. “Come out the hospital a new man.”

He saw Mr. Harry getting up from the table as Layla said, “That’s kind of what I’m thinking.”

Cuba heard her but kept watching his boss shaking hands with people at the table. He said to Layla, “I expect to see you pretty soon now we lovers.”

She said, “How about tonight?”

Didn’t hesitate.

“Could be late, I get done haulin his ass around.”

“Come anytime. I’m in bed I’ll leave a light on.”

“Tell me where I’m going.”

She laid her hand on a cocktail napkin, folded, and brought it along the bar to Cuba. “It’s all here,” Layla said, “with a key to let you in.”

Cuba liked how her eyes turned soft looking at him. This was a cool woman with evil ways. The best kind. He said, “Why don’t you lift the kidneys offa Dr. Blow Job?” He said, “No, he’s too close. I think so’s Mr. Harry.”

“I have an idea how we’d do Harry.”

“You’re exposin your intenti ons,” Cuba said, “to a lover?”

“As soon as I heard you’re Ah-frican,” Layla said, “I knew you were my guy.”

You run out of gas,” Art Mullen said. “You’re on your way to Lexington and you run out of gas. This is after you stirred up the state cops, got ’em looking for the Crowes.”

They were in the Harlan marshal’s office, Art standing over Raylan sitting down, trapped in his seat.

“What told you they were taking off for Lexington?” Raylan’s boss said.

“It had to be where the doctor was.”

“How you know that?”

“It’s where they do transplants.”

“But why do they take off to see the doctor?”

“He runs the show, he’ll tell ’em what to do.”

“You thought about all that,” Art said, “and decided not to get warrants. But you didn’t look to see if you needed gas.”

“I thought I had at least one more gallon.”

“You know Rachel was against going to Lexington?”

“I don’t recall her telling me why.”

“Because you’re relying on St. Christopher to find the doctor for you, and there isn’t or ever was a St. Christopher. Somebody made him up.”

Raylan said, “Did you know that?”

“I think so,” Art said. “But I’ve never asked him to find anybody for me. You’re saying St. Christo N/dibaSompher told you to go to Lexington?”

“I worked it out,” Raylan said, “before I heard anything definite. You know there’s a world-famous organ transplant hospital there? UK Medical. They transplant kidneys all day long, seventy miles away from where Angel’s were taken.”

“That’s what you’re goin on?”

“I had a hunch. You have ’em, don’t you?”

“How many hunches,” Art said, “ever come to pass?”

“All right, we know the Crowes are involved. We pick ’em up, talk to ’em, give ’em a deal on their sentence for the doctor.”

Art said, “If he’s a resident at the hospital, he’ll be there when we decide to look him up. We got something else coming up, a public meeting in Harlan County about a new mountaintop removal permit.”

Raylan said, “Like settin the top aside to get at the coal. And all the coal dust settles on the people below. I was a laid-off miner I’d ask the coal company, ‘You don’t have enough money? You got to blow up our mountains?’ ”

“You want,” Art said, “you can ask them yourself. They’re coming in a week or so, when Ms. Carol Conlan gets back from the Bahamas.”

“You’re kiddin, a woman?”

“She’s the voice of M-T Mining. Main office in Lexington.”

Raylan said, “She ready for Harlan?”

Art said, “Anything this lady wants, you pinch the brim of your cowboy hat and say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ ”

“While I’m waitin around, you mind if I scare up the Crowes?”

“If you can bring ’em in. You shoot ’em, you’ll never find the doctor, will you?”

They were in Layla’s motel room in Corbin, Layla packed, ready to return to UK Medical after two weeks off; Cuba here because he wanted to talk to her face-to-face.

“You tell me, dismiss the Crowe brothers,” Cuba said. “You mean take ’em out.”

They sat at the table in the motel room sipping brandy with the coffee Cuba got from the lobby.

“The way to ask it,” Cuba said, “did I ever shoot a dude look like he meant to take somethin belong to me, like my car or my life? See, that’s different than askin me to go shoot somebody. Know what I’m sayin? You join a young boys gang, they tell you go on out and gun this dude from some other gang. Prove you got the cojones. There boys groove on it till they get taken out theirselves. I never was in a gang. I avoid any bloodshed isn’t necessary to my state of being. The only time I used a gun-this nine-mil Sig I have-two dudes try to jack the Mercedes I just got done jackin. Big crackhead young niggas come with baseball bats, tell me they gonna bang on the car less I get out. I shoulda sat there. It come to me later, they ain’t gonna jack a car the windows broke out. But at the same time I thought I better defend myself. I pulled the Sig and shot both the motherfuckers they standin there waving the bats. Left ’em lyin in the street.”