Росс Томас - Cast a Yellow Shadow

“And then they kill her. That’s not bad.”

“They won’t kill her.”

“They killed her father.”

“I’m not saying they’re not hard enough to kill her; they’re just not smart enough.”

“What if one of them has an inspiration?”

“That’s the chance she’ll take.”

“Right through the noose, kid. Just like I told you.”

“I know them,” she said. “I know what they are. But they won’t kill me while Van Zandt’s around.”

“He didn’t seem too particular about my wife.”

“But they wouldn’t do it at the trade mission,” she said. “They don’t butcher their pigs in their homes.”

“So they take you someplace else,” I said. “They take you to where they’re holding Fredl.”

“That’s it,” Padillo said.

“And we follow along in the Stingray with the top down.”

“Hardman.”

I ran a hand through my hair and felt how thin it was getting, but who wants fat hair? “I haven’t got anything better. When does it all happen?”

“Tuesday morning,” Padillo said.

“Hardman can’t do it alone.”

“No.”

“Who’ll be with him — Mush?”

“We’ll need Mush.”

“I want to meet whoever’s with Hardman.”

“So do I,” Padillo said.

“How many do you think he’ll need?”

“Three.”

“He can get them, but this is going to cost.”

“It’s my tab,” Padillo said. “If that’s important.”

“It isn’t.”

“Why Tuesday morning?”

“One, because they won’t have time to kill Sylvia. They’ll have to get rid of her and they’ll probably take her straight over to where Fredl’s being held and leave her. Two, because you’ll have to figure out some way to tip Fredl off the next time you talk to her.”

“I’ll think of something.”

Padillo got up and crossed over to the bar. “Scotch?”

“Fine.”

“Sylvia?”

“Nothing, thank you. Could I make some coffee?”

“It’s instant.”

“It was fine this afternoon.”

She went into the kitchen and ran some water into the kettle. Padillo crossed the room and handed me my drink.

“Can you think of anything better?” he asked in a low voice.

I shook my head no. “How much charm did you have to turn on?”

“She’s a nice kid. I don’t want anything to happen to her. Or to Fredl.”

“But there’s a damned good chance.”

“Yes.”

“What did you have in mind if she hadn’t turned up?”

He smiled, but there was nothing bright or warm in it. “Magda,” he said.

“The same thing?”

“Very similar, but with one difference.”

“What?”

“Magda would get killed.”

“I don’t think I need the details.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

Sylvia came in with her cup of coffee. She sat beside Padillo on the couch.

“If either of you think that you’re using me, I want you to forget it,” she said. “I’ve known these people all my life and I suppose I was brought up to hold them in contempt, but never to underestimate their viciousness. I’ve seen them do horrible things to people in my country — really shocking, awful things, and I’ve heard descriptions of worse.” She turned to Padillo and her eyes looked directly into his. “I may be naive about many things, about you in particular, but I am not naive about them. I know them and I know the risk I’m taking. I was sent here by people who are the last chance that my country has, to do what I could. This seems to be the best I can do and I plan to do it.”

“All right,” Padillo said. “We’ll go ahead. The first thing is to get in touch with Hardman. Where do you think he’d be?”

“God knows,” I said. “Let me try that Cadillac of his.” I picked up the phone and called the mobile operator and gave her the number. There were a few beeps and buzzes and then his voice came on.

“Hard-man here,” he said.

“This is McCorkle.”

“How you, baby?”

“Fine.”

“What you hear bout Fredl?”

“That’s why I called. Where are you?”

“Cruisin around on upper Fourteenth. You home?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to come over?”

“I think it would be a good idea.”

“Be there in fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“You alone?”

“Betty’s with me. Be okay? She’ll keep her mouth shut.”

“Okay.”

I hung up and turned to Padillo and Sylvia. “He’ll be here in fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s bringing Betty.”

Padillo nodded. “She probably knows all about it by now anyway.”

“Is there anybody in town who doesn’t?” I asked.

Hardman was wearing a double-breasted camel’s hair coat and alligator shoes. When he took off the coat you could admire his dark green cashmere jacket, his fawn-colored slacks, and the yellow ascot that he wore at the throat of a pale green velour shirt. He was everything the well-dressed numbers man should be and I asked him how Trueblue Sue had done in the fourth at Shenandoah.

“Out of the money, baby, I’m sorry to say.”

I introduced Hardman and Betty to Sylvia Underhill. I took Betty’s mink and hung it up carefully, the way five thousand dollars should be hung up. Padillo mixed them a drink and they sat in two easy chairs. Betty was wearing some kind of black-and-white-striped bellbottomed lounging pajamas that either were going to be the rage that year, or the year after.

“What you got going?” Hardman said.

“We think we’ve got a plan to find Fredl,” I said, “but we’re going to need some help.”

“Keep talkin.”

I let Padillo tell it. He told it quickly and concisely. Hardman didn’t interrupt or say anything until Padillo stopped talking.

“Four could probably do it,” Hardman said. “Me and three others. We pick ’em up out on Mass Avenue and then trade off on the tail job. We can use phones to stay in touch. But you ain’t got no idea where she’s gonna go?”

“None.”

“Need a moving van then.”

“Why?” I said.

“You get four colored boys pulling up before some house in a white neighborhood and getting out of two cars and moving up to that house and you got law. Especially if you have to rush out of there with two white girls. But with a moving van, us dressed in white coveralls, and maybe a pick-up truck for the wheel man — one of those fancy jobs that don’t carry much and are built like a sedan almost, it could work okay.”

“Can you get the three you need?” Padillo said.

Hardman looked down at the toe of his right shoe and polished it against the back of his left leg. “This ain’t gonna be no cheapie.”

“We’ll take care of the money,” I said.

“Might run you high — ten, fifteen thousand. That includes any — well, any accidents that might happen.”

“Make it fifteen thousand and if it costs any more we’ll take care of it,” Padillo said.

“Hardman looked at Betty. “What you think, honey?”

“You use Mush, Tulip and Nineball, it cost you that.”

“I was thinking of them.”

“We need Mush for something else,” Padillo said.

“We get Johnny Jay then,” Hardman said.

“We want to stay in touch with you from the time you pick Sylvia up until the time you’re done,” Padillo said. “Will phones work?”

“We set up a conference call and keep it goin till we’re done.”

“Operators listen in?” I asked.

“Ain’t the operators you have to worry about. Those mobile phones are seventy-five-man party lines. You get an hour’s worth of calls a month for six dollars. After that it’s about thirty cents for ten minutes and after that ten cents a minute.”