James Chase: Like a Hole in the Head

The driver came towards me, revealing perfect white teeth in a wide, know-all smile.

“Mr. Benson? I’m Raimundo. I’m Mr. Savanto’s right hand, left hand and possibly left leg.” His grin widened. “This is Nick. Don’t bother about him. No one does. He’s just the jerk who sweeps up the horse droppings.”

As he didn’t offer his hand, it saved me from shaking hands with him. I didn’t like him. I didn’t like his companion.

“What are you doing her?” I asked.

“We’ve got things for you, Mr. Benson.” He suddenly looked beyond me and his eyebrows went up. I glanced over my shoulder. Lucy was moving into the bungalow, carrying our cups. She was wearing a halter and cotton jeans. As she moved, her bottom gave a little twitch.

“Is that Mrs. Benson?” Raimundo asked, his eyes moving back to me.

“That’s Mrs. Benson.” I gave him the hard eye. “What things have you brought?”

“The works: the rifle, ammunition, food, booze. I haven’t missed a trick.”

“What do you mean… food? We’re capable of buying our own food.”

His grin became sly. “You don’t have to… it’s all here with Mr. Savanto’s compliments.”

He turned to his companion who was standing indifferently by the truck.

“Hey, Nick, get the stuff unloaded.” He turned to me. “Is that the shooting range over there? We’ll unload the ammunition there if it’s okay with you.”

I hesitated, then shrugged. If Savanto wanted it this way, he was the boss and it would save me money.

“Where’s Timoteo?”

“He’s on his way. He’ll be here any minute. Have you somewhere we can pitch a tent? Me and Nick won’t bother you. We have our own food. Nick knows how to take care of me.” Again the wide grin. “Just say where we can be out of your way and that’s where we’ll be.”

“What are you going to do around here?”

“Security. We’ll wander around out of sight. If anyone comes here, we’ll ease him off. No rough stuff, Mr. Benson. All done with charm. That’s what Mr. Savanto said and what Mr. Savanto says goes.”

I pointed to some distant palm trees: over five hundred yards from the bungalow.

“Anywhere beyond those trees.”

“Okay. I’ll give Nick a hand.”

He strolled over to the truck. I returned to the bungalow. I had an

itchy feeling down my spine: the feeling I used to get in the jungle when I was sure one of the Vietcong was moving in my direction. Lucy had come out on to the balcony and was watching.

“Who are they?” she asked when I reached her.

“Two of Savanto’s men. They have brought provisions.”

She stared at me.

“Provisions?”

“That’s it. Savanto is providing the food so that saves you a shopup.” I looked at my watch. “Show them where to put the stuff, honey.”

She looked helplessly at me, hesitated, then moved down the steps towards the truck. Both Raimundo and Nick were coming towards her, staggering under the weight of two wooden cases. Raimundo gave her his sexy smile.

“Plenty of good food here, Mrs. Benson,” he said. “Where do you want it put?”

At this moment I saw the black Cadillac coming up the drive.

“Here he is, honey. I’ll leave you to handle this,” and I started across the sand to meet the car as it pulled up.

The driver who looked like a chimpanzee slid out of the car, opened the rear door, then ran around to the boot, opened it and took out a suitcase.

Timoteo Savanto got slowly out of the car and stood awkwardly in the sun as I approached him.

He was wearing a black short-sleeved cotton shirt, black cotton slacks and black rope-soled shoes. He looked like a stork that had fallen in tar. "Hi, there,” I said and offered my hand.

He ducked his head : his face was anonymous with his eves hidden behind the black goggles. He took my hand in his limp, sweaty clasp and immediately released it.

“Come and see your room,” I said. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No, thank you. No… I’ve had all I want.” He looked helplessly around.

“I’ll show you your room, then let’s get over to the range.”

“It doesn’t matter about the room. I’m sure it’s all right.”

“Fine… it is.” I turned to the Chimpanzee. “Take the hag to the bungalow. Mrs. Benson will show you where to leave it.”

Raimundo and Nick were coming out of the bungalow, having got rid of the two cases.

Raimundo lounged up to me.

“Nice little place you have here, Mr. Benson,” he said chattily.

“The stuff’s all delivered.” His eyes took in Timoteo and his smile became an insulting jeer. “Hi, Mr. Savanto : you all ready for the bangbang act?”

I saw Timoteo cringe and turn red.

I’ve had to handle lots of smart boys during my time in the Army. I decided to crack down on this hairy know-all right away.

“Get the ammunition and the rifle to the range!” I barked at him, using my Army voice that can carry a quarter of a mile. “What the hell are you hanging around here for?”

If I had hit him across the face he couldn’t have looked more startled, but only for a moment, then he stiffened. His face turned viciously hard and his eyes glittered with fury as he glared at me.

“You speaking to me?”

Every now and then I had run into the tough guy who didn’t react to a barking voice. Then I had to throw my rank at him, but I had no rank to throw at Raimundo. That didn’t worry me. I had Savanto’s twenty-five thousand dollar bond behind me and I was sure, strong as he was, in a knock down and drag out, I could take him.

“You heard me, glamour-boy ! Get the stuff delivered and quit flapping with your mouth!”

We looked at each other. For a moment I thought he was coming at me, but somehow he managed to control himself. He forced a vicious grin.

“Okay, Mr. Benson.”

“And wipe that goddam grin off your face,” I snarled. “I don’t like it.”

He looked quickly at Timoteo, then he looked beyond me at Nick who was gaping at me.

“You don’t have to talk this way to me,” he said.

I spotted the uncertainty in his voice. He wasn’t scared of me, but he was scared of his boss.

This was the time to dig in the blade and turn it.

“Don’t I?” My parade-ground voice bounced off the roof of the bungalow. Who the hell are you? I talk anyway I like! I’m the boss around here! if you don’t like it, get the hell out of here and tell your boss! Tell him what you told me : you’re his right hand, his left hand and possibly his left leg. He might just laugh himself sick but it’s my guess he won’t. Get this stuff delivered and then get lost !”

There was a long explosive pause. Raimundo had turned grey under his tan. He seemed unable to make up his mind whether to go for me or surrender.

“No one…” he began, his voice quivering with fury.

I had him on the run and I knew it.

“Hear me !” I bawled. “Get lost!”

He hesitated, then walked slowly to the truck. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nick climb in beside him. The truck moved off and headed for the range.

I looked at Timoteo who was standing, transfixed. The black sun goggles were pointing my way. I assumed he was looking at me, but I couldn’t swear to it.

I grinned at him.

“I don’t like that guy,” I said. I purposely softened my voice. “I’m an ex-Army man. When I don’t like a guy, I bawl him out. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of coffee?”

He gulped, then shook his head.

The driver of the Cadillac who had been watching this little scene, came over.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said to me. His flat Chimp face was tight and his breath whistled through his flat nostrils. “Okay for me to speak to Mr. Savanto?”