Микки Спиллейн - The Delta Factor

“You have some fine sources of information.”

“Yes, we do have that. My people are trained to recognize… ah, certain important persons.” He waved indolently at the man behind him. “Major Turez here identified you immediately at one of the casinos.”

“Nice of him. I understand you have a ship leaving for Rio tomorrow. We’ll be glad to hop it.”

Carlos Ortega spread his hands in amazement. “But why, Mr. Morgan? That is not the purpose of my visit. If I wished, I could detain you and hand you over to the American authorities. I am sure they would be happy to have you back there.”

“Why, then?” I asked with a grin. My eyes flicked between the both of them and the major looked like a cat had scratched him.

Ortega said, “Our country has welcomed many people seeking… shall we say, political asylum? We are not concerned with your past, only that you are satisfied here and conform to our laws. That is not too much to ask, is it?”

“Suits me, but if you don’t like the situation, I’ll be glad to ship out.”

“Perhaps you would be happier if you stayed. Your, er… wife would enjoy her honeymoon here.”

My grin spread clear across my face and there wasn’t any humor in it at all. The major’s hand went to the gun at his belt and his fingers fumbled for the leather catch. One day all that rigging was going to get him killed. I said, “Ease off, you. You’re looking at my wife, understand. We’re legally married and anybody…”

And this time Carlos Ortega managed an expression. An apologetic one. “Please, Mr. Morgan. I know this, I know this. Georgia, it was, duly registered. I’m surprised you even took the chance, but legality I approve of. I am sorry if I offended, but in the nature of my work—”

I cut him short. “Okay, forget it.”

“Certainly. Now that we’ve had our understanding, I may add that there are certain services this country might be able to offer you…”

“Like converting hot money into clean stuff at a discount?” I put in.

His nod was a generous one. “To be frank, it can be arranged,” he said.

“I’ll think about it.”

Carlos Ortega stood up and I got a good look at him. In the chair his size had been deceptive; now I saw the brutal strength in him and knew the way he had forced himself into power. He wasn’t the type many men could come against and live. He was all raw power with no concern for personal safety, giving himself over to some wild driving force inside himself that even he couldn’t understand.

“Incidentally, Mr. Morgan, my associate, Senor Sabin, informed me you suffered an altercation of sorts recently.”

“Somebody tried to kill me.”

“Regrettable. I have given instructions personally to investigate fully. Would you have any idea who it could have been?”

“Your associate suspected a robbery attempt,” I said.

Something changed in Ortega’s face. “Not from across the street,” he told me.

“That’s what I figured.”

He gave me an odd stare, then turned to the major and motioned for him to leave, then followed him past us with a stiff little bow to Kim. I opened the door, watched them step into the corridor, then turned on my nasty charm and said, “By the way, Mr. Ortega, would it inconvenience your people if I yanked the bugs out of the room? After all, it is our honeymoon.”

It never fazed him at all. It was almost as if he had expected it. “Certainly, Mr. Morgan. I apologize for the clumsy installation.”

So I laid it on a little thicker. “And I’d reprimand whoever shook the room down. They weren’t very good either.”

The major’s face darkened with suppressed fury, but Ortega seemed to enjoy his discomfort. “It is very difficult when you deal with professionals, Mr. Morgan. Good night, sir, and congratulations to the señora.”

I closed the door and looked at Kim. “That was quick.” She watched me carefully, curiosity in her face. “You pushed too hard, Morgan.”

“I don’t like reflections on my marital status, baby… such as it is.”

She had the decency to blush, but her face didn’t change any. “I didn’t mean that. I was referring to the hidden microphones.”

I grunted and went over to the sideboard and poured out a cold beer. “He didn’t mind, kid. He would have thought me pretty stupid if I didn’t spot them. Besides, something has him worried.”

“Oh?”

“That shooting,” I said. “He spotted the catch in it right away. He didn’t kid about it. He wants me alive if he expects to nick my bundle. We got more here to worry about than the Ortega regime.”

Kim took the glass I held out. “But… who else…”

“That’s what I’m going to find out. So far I’ve only been pitched to once.”

She didn’t get the drift of my meaning so I finished my beer, put the glass down and told her I’d be back later.

Like Las Vegas, there was no night in Nuevo Cádiz. There was a brightly illuminated darkness, but not night. The carnival atmosphere grew more frantic, the crowd thicker, the noises louder as the hours passed. The play at the casinos was heavy and the ballrooms were crowded with couples and groups taking a break, but there was one thing that never changed, the harried bartenders sweating out their shift before their relief came on and they could go home.

At the Delmonico I slid on a stool, ordered Fleischmann’s Preferred and ginger ale, passed a five-spot across the bar and told the guy to keep the change. He gave me a grateful nod and made my drink a double, then looked at my face again. “You been in before?”

“Just got here.”

“States?”

I nodded.

“What’s the news from home?” he asked me.

“How long you been away?”

“Too long.”

“Then you haven’t missed anything,” I told him. “Nothing’s changed. A few more buildings in Manhattan, a big LSD kick on and the same scramble for the buck.”

“Better’n here, though.”

“So go back.”

He shook his head. “Can’t. I jumped bail on an assault rap and they’d pick me up.”

“Guilty?”

“Hell, yes. Why you think I skipped out? I put enough time behind the wall the first stretch.” I got that funny look again. “Don’t I know you?”

“I get around.”

He grinned and mopped the bar down in front of me. “Yeah. Plenty of us here. Maybe it’d do better to serve time. When they got you on the hook here they tap you for everything they can. You clean?”

“Enough.”

“Then stay that way. You don’t know how rough it can get These monkeys can look like jokers, but they got something rolling for them here and play it all the way. Get in on the action yet?”

“Picked up a few bucks shooting crap,” I said. “Met some broad who liked my style. Called herself Lisa Gordot.”

The bartender’s head came up and his eyes had a sudden interested look. “You picked up more than a few bucks, then. That doll only goes after the long green.”

“That’s what I figured. I quit when I was ahead and she wanted me to play out the streak. What’s with her?”

He refilled my glass and took the other five I handed him. I knew he was debating how far he could go with me, then he shrugged and said, “Just an idea I got, but some of the others seem to think the same thing. She’s stranded here. Right now she’s after running money.” He made a funny expression with his mouth, then leaned on the bar close to me. “Stay away from that chick. She’s trouble right down the line. She had a couple of chances to cut out, but our local Director of Police has tagged her for his personal property and is making sure she’s gonna stick around.”