Ross Thomas: The Fourth Durango

“I never went to grade school, as you call it,” Mansur said. “I was privately tutored.”

“Sit down any way and I’ll sit in one of these chairs over here and we’ll wait for the phone to ring.”

“Merriman has an unlisted number in here,” Mansur said.

“There’s no such thing as an unlisted number.”

The telephone rang two minutes later at exactly 3:05 P.M. Aiming the M-16 at Mansur with his right hand, Contraire picked up the ringing phone with his left and said, “It’s me.”

He listened, smiling his gray-toothed smile at Mansur, who, still seated at the child’s desk, his hands folded on its top, smiled politely back.

“Hold on,” Contraire said into the phone. To Mansur he said, “I bet you can turn this into a conference call-you and me in here, whoever’s just called, and Vines and Adair in the poker room. You can do that, can’t you, Parvie?”

Mansur nodded.

Cradling the phone’s receiver between his ear and left shoulder, Contraire used his now freed left hand to pick up the rest of the telephone and place it in front of Mansur, who tapped out four numbers on the Touch-Tone buttons.

Nodding and smiling at Mansur, Contraire said into the receiver: “Hear it ringing? Now let’s see which one answers.”

Vines picked up the phone on its fourth chirp and said, “Yes.”

“Who’s this?” a man’s voice said.

“Kelly Vines.”

“Well, look, Kelly, I’m gonna put Parvie on for a second so he can tell you what the score is. Okay?”

“Yes.”

There was a wait of a second or two until Mansur came on and said, “There’s no money.”

“No money?” Vines said, lifting the phone an inch or so from his ear so Jack Adair could also listen.

“No. He’s here and there’s an M-16 pointed at me. I might add that the safety’s off. He has someone on the telephone whom he wishes you to speak with. That’s all I know.”

There was another pause before Contraire came back on and said, “You get all that, Kelly?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s see if you recognize the next voice you hear.”

The next voice Vines and Adair heard said, “Hello, Mr. Vines. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, Dannie. And you?”

“I’ve had such a nice outing. We took a short drive and I had an ice cream sundae and now we’re having a little rest before I go back.”

“Someone’s with you then?” Vines said.

“Betty’s with me.”

“Betty who?”

Vines could hear his wife’s voice through the hand she must have placed over the phone. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your last name.”

There was an indistinct, muffled reply, a pause and Danielle Vines was again speaking to her husband. “Betty Thompson.”

“May I speak to Miss Thompson?” Vines said.

Contraire cut in. “Sorry, Kelly.”

“Who was that, Mr. Vines?” Danielle asked.

“A friend.”

“Is Mr. Adair with you? Betty said I could also talk with Mr. Adair, who I think is quite nice.”

Vines handed the phone to Adair, who closed his eyes, massaged them with the thumb and middle finger on his left hand, and said to his daughter, “Hello, Dannie. This is Jack Adair.”

“How are you today, Mr. Adair?”

“I’m fine, Dannie. Where’re you calling from?”

“I’m in-”

There was the sound of a phone being hung up. But Contraire was still on the line. “That’s enough chitchat, Jack. You wanta talk to me or do you wanta put Vines back on?”

“I’ll talk to you,” Adair said, holding the receiver away from his ear so Vines could listen.

“Well, it’s like this, Jack. I need to get some answers from you guys face-to-face and, if I don’t get ’em, well, I’m afraid Dannie’s not gonna make it back to the nut farm. So what I want you to do is tell Parvis to give me the key to the poker room.”

“What happens to him after he gives you the key?”

“Nothing happens to him. Why would anything happen to him? Well, sure, I might lock him in the dining room there, but it’s got a nice little bar where he can sit and drink himself shitfaced until it’s all over.”

“Put Parvis on,” Adair said.

“Mansur here.”

“Can he hear me?”

“No.”

“He wants you to give him the key to the poker room.”

“I know.”

“If you don’t give it to him,” Adair said, “he’ll kill you.”

“Understood.”

“If you give it to him, he’ll also kill you.”

“That’s not altogether certain.”

“Ever play poker?”

“Yes.”

“Well, put your best poker face on because you’re going to need it. I’m going to ask you a question that I don’t expect you to answer. What I expect you to do is say good-bye, hang up the phone and do whatever you think best. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Here’s the question,” Adair said. “If you were to die today, who would inherit your estate?”

There was silence. Adair counted to six before he heard Parvis Mansur gently hang up the phone. After Adair recradled the poker room phone he turned to Vines and said, “What else could I say?”

“Nothing.”

“You think they’ll let Dannie go?”

“I doubt it,” said Kelly Vines.

Mansur rose from the child’s desk and said, “I think my wisest course is to hand you the key without further ado.”

“That’s very wise, Parvie.”

“But to give you the key I must reach into the right pocket of my jacket. In the event you think this is a trick or a subterfuge, you’re welcome to reach into the pocket yourself.”

“Tell you what,” Contraire said. “You go stand over there in front of the safe.”

“Very well,” Mansur said and crossed to the spot Contraire had indicated with a wave of the M-16.

“I’m not gonna reach into your pocket, Parvie,” Contraire said. “The reason I’m not is because I figure that when you were with Savak you learned all sorts of cute and dirty stuff.”

“I was never with Savak,” Mansur said with stiff dignity.

“None of you rich towelheads ever were-just like none of the krauts were ever with the SS either. I don’t blame you. I’d say the same thing myself. But I’m still not gonna walk over there and reach into your pocket because you’re gonna turn around, take the key out of your pocket and put it on top of the safe.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Mansur turned around, facing the safe. His right hand, neither fast nor slow, dipped into his bush jacket pocket. He spun around, firing through the pocket at Contraire. The round, which sounded like a small caliber, missed Contraire and instead hit one of the two wingback chairs. Contraire shot Mansur in the left thigh and, taking his time, shot him again in the left shoulder. Mansur groaned, staggered and crumpled to the floor.

Contraire bent down and took a nickel-plated.25-caliber Sterling automatic, the old 300 model, from Mansur’s pocket. A purse gun, Contraire thought as he stuck the weapon into one of his own pockets. The same hand went back into Mansur’s pocket again and came out with a key.

“Can you crawl?” Contraire asked.

“Yes,” Mansur whispered. “I don’t know.”

“I think you better make up your mind that you can crawl into the safe there.”

“No.”

Contraire made his voice sound patient and reasonable. “You gotta understand something, Parvie. I don’t mind you taking a shot at me. I’d’ve done the same thing. So I’m giving you a chance. You crawl into the safe and it’ll be the first place Sid and B. D.’ll look for the money. Maybe you won’t even be dead by then, if you take real tiny little breaths. But if you don’t crawl in there, I’m gonna have to put a round through your head.”