Elmore Leonard: Mr. Paradise

Carl said, "Give her time."

Finally, when they saw the black VW coming from Jefferson and Art said, "This must be her," it was almost ten o'clock.

They watched the VW pull into the lot and find a spot and waited for Kelly to get out and lock the car. Now Art brought the Camry around the corner with the lights off, creeping up to where she would cross the street to her building, timing it. There she was, starting across, a leather bag hanging from her shoulder. She didn't see the Camry creeping up on her. Art braked and popped on the brights and saw her face and how scared she was as Carl appeared in the beams and grabbed her. They got her in the backseat with the bag, no problem, Carl's hand over her mouth. She tried to fight him but quieted down as he began to tell her, "I come across a gook sleeping in a tunnel one time. I didn't know was there others in there. Maybe this one sleeping was suppose to be on guard duty. I shun my light on him and put my hand over his mouth and he come alive on me like a wild animal. I hit him with the flashlight and broke it. I had to stick my forty-five under his chin and shoot him and got out of that fuckin tunnel as fast as I could."

He held Kelly in his arms patting her back.

Montez was waiting in the kitchen. He took her bag from Art and pushed her ahead of him through the swing door. She didn't know where she was until she saw the living room, the old man's chair and the TV set gone. Montez was feeling around in her bag now saying, "What you got in here?" He found her cell and put it in his pocket. Now he was bringing out the stock certificate, the papers and her printout. Montez said, "Gonna meet the cop and give him these, huh?"

She didn't answer. She hadn't made a sound since she was thrown in the car. They were in the foyer now and Kelly was looking at the two guys standing in the short hall from the living room. Like they didn't want to get too close to her. White guys. She realized they must be the ones from the other night. It surprised her and she said, "They're hiding out here?"

Montez said to them, "See? I told you she could pick you out. This bitch is smart, man, she knows."

Delsa had told her their names, Carl Fontana and Art Krupa, but she didn't know which was which. They stared at her not saying anything. She wanted to run out the front door. She should've run out that night and not worried about leaving her bag. They kept staring at her.

She heard voices coming from the den, a TV commercial about acid reflux she recognized, looked over and saw Lloyd standing in the doorway. He nodded to her. Now a young black guy appeared next to him.

Montez said, "Come on," took her by the arm and they started up the stairway.

Lloyd said, "Miss, can I get you anything?"

She had stopped at the Rattlesnake with a girl from the show and they'd each had a couple of drinks. Now she said to Lloyd, "How about an alexander?"

Going back to the kitchen Art said to Carl, "The fuck's an alexander?"

"It's a drink, a cocktail."

"What's in it?"

"I don't know, it's kind of a tan drink."

They went in the kitchen to the table by the window, a lamp on, and sat down. Carl said, "We haven't been in any room in this whole fuckin house except the fuckin kitchen."

"I'm home, I always sit in the fuckin kitchen."

"Not when I stay with you."

"'Cause Ginny's in there. We go out."

"You don't worry about her knowing what you do."

"I said to her, you tell anybody I'll shoot you, and I know I can do it."

Carl said, "Art, how do the cops know about us? This girl tells what we look like, they draw pictures of us and say, 'Shit, why that's Art and Carl'?"

"Unless," Art said, "where we got the guns-they'd been used before and that asshole told us they're cherry."

"That's been bothering me," Carl said. "Should we have trusted that kid? I can't even think of his name. But that could be it." Carl poured Club in his glass, ice melted in the bottom. He pushed the bottle to Art, saying to him, "You notice how much the two girls look alike?"

"Going by her picture in the paper. Otherwise you wouldn't know it was the same one in the chair. Yeah, they could almost be twins." He said, "I'm glad we didn't talk to her. You gonna talk to the one upstairs?"

"I'm not having nothing to do with her," Carl said. "I'm not gonna talk to her and I'm sure as hell not gonna shoot her. How about you?"

"The smoke wants it done," Art said, "he's gonna have to do it."

"Would you let him?"

"What you're asking now," Art said, "would I shoot him before he puts a plastic bag over her head. I don't see any difference in whacking him or the fuckin dopers. See, but I don't know he has the nerve to do it."

"You don't worry about her saying it was us?"

"Did you see her the other night? I didn't. Where was she when she saw us, upstairs? She couldn't of seen us good."

"The thing is she's seen us now," Carl said. "She can tell herself yeah, those're the guys. You know what I mean? But I don't think the cops need her."

"You think it's the guns," Art said.

Carl was nodding. "I think we fucked ourselves buying those guns."

There was a silence as Art picked up the bottle of Canadian Club and then paused.

"How come Avern hasn't been on us to get rid of 'em?"

The bong was no longer on the dresser. "Confiscated," Montez said. He rolled a joint and lit and handed it to Kelly, saying, "For your pleasure."

She shrugged and took a hit. Like the other time.

Lloyd came with an alexander in a lowball glass, the crystal, he handed to Kelly in the chair and looked at Montez sitting on the other side of the bed, the lamp on, reading about Del Rio Power. Lloyd said to Kelly, "You need anything else?"

She said, "Tell me what I'm doing here."

"That's his bidness," Lloyd said, looking at Montez. "I jes work here."

"You have a cigarette?"

"I'll find you some," Lloyd said and walked out.

Montez came around to sit on the side of the bed facing Kelly, in the chair where she had tried to hide in her cinnamon coat that night. Today she wore dark Donna Karan head to toe, sweater, pants and heels.

"What I have here," Montez said, "is the paper that transfers the stock to Chloe, filled out, signed by Mr. Paradise. Where you sign it is down here."

"Even if the stock was good," Kelly said, "I'm not gonna commit fraud."

Montez said, "Those two white menaces downstairs, they brought you here while they decide how to dispose of you. Understand? They ain't letting you send them to prison."

Kelly said, "But if I sign this, what? You'll get me out of here?"

"I didn't know you have this on you. Since you do, I want you to cash it in for me."

"But before you found it," Kelly said, "you agreed with the two guys, I had to be put away?"

"You lucky you brought it, huh?"

"And now I'm supposed to trust you?" Kelly said. "Chloe's picture was in the paper. She's the news, and she's dead."

"We wait a while, nobody remembers her name. They look at you and the picture on Chloe's license-you still have it, the driver's license?"

"In my bag. And by the time we get around to doing it," Kelly said, "Del Rio is out of business and there's no stock to sell."

Montez said, "Why couldn't the stock go up instead of down? Del Rio Power, man, it's a giant corporation."

Kelly sipped her drink.

She looked at Montez and for a moment or so felt sorry for him. She said, "Why don't you go hold up a liquor store? You do all this plotting: for what? I'll bet you anything the best way to make money in crime is armed robbery. You've been fucking around with this idea, make a killing off the old man for how long, ten years? Don't you know those two-what did you call them, white menaces?-are going to name you to make a deal with the prosecutor? You know they'll be arrested. Frank Delsa said, 'Those two go around like they're wearing signs.' I think you ought to come to some agreement with the two guys that you won't tell on each other."