Page 22 of Smoked


  "You're dead.? You know that, Cruz?? Ain't no way they gonna let you off now."

  "Pull up over there by the hedge."?

  "I mean, I hope I'm there to see it when they get you.? Gonna fucking bleed you, probably.? You know?? Do it real slow."

  He pulled over to the hedge and stopped.?

  "Now get out of the fucking car."

  Moss opened the door and climbed out.? He was grinning so broadly the top of his head might slide off.? He was standing practically in the hedges.? Cruz pointed the gun up at him.? Cruz didn't like this position with the door open like this, but it was what he had at the moment.?

  "Drop your cell phone on the ground," he said.? "Do it slow."?

  "Bleed you, motherfucker.? Like a fucking cow."

  "Drop the cell phone, Moss, or I'll kill you right here."

  Moss took the cell phone off his pants.? He glanced at Cruz like he might consider throwing the phone, then he dropped the phone to the blacktop.

  "Now start walking toward those cars over by the building.? Don't turn around until you get there.? Got me?? I got no reason to keep you alive except out of the goodness of my heart."

  "That's why you're gonna die so badly," Moss said.? Then he started walking.

  When Moss was thirty yards away, Cruz got out of the car.? He walked around to the driver's side.? He picked up the cell phone and smashed it against the pavement.? He glanced at Moss, still walking slowly toward the raceway.? Then he looked in on Pamela.

  "We have to do something about this car," he said.

  "I have a car," Pamela said.?

  ?

  * * *?

  ?

  Smoke drove the old Tercel slowly through side streets extending out behind Route 1. ?They drove along in silence for a time.? The silence spun out and became awkward.? At some point, they came back out onto Route 1 and Smoke turned south toward Scarborough and Old Orchard Beach.? They were moving in heavy traffic.? There was no pursuit.? Nothing unusual was happening at all.???

  "Smoke," Lola said.? "What's going on?"

  He shrugged.? "I don't even know where to begin."

  "Why don't you start at the beginning?? Who are you?"

  For a moment, he pondered how to answer this.? His mind raced along, looking for loopholes and escape routes.? The safecracker, the arsonist, Walter O'Malley, looked for a way out.? But then Smoke Dugan took over, and he realized there was no way out.? More than that - he realized that Lola deserved the truth.? She deserved the truth because he had put her life in jeopardy.? She deserved the truth because Pamela's life was still in jeopardy.? She deserved the truth because Smoke loved her, and when you loved someone you told them the truth.? It was that simple.

  So he told her.

  Everything.

  It took a long time, and before he was done they had driven out to Old Orchard Beach. Old Orchard was just about dead this time of year.? The big amusement park, Palace Playland, was closed.? A backdrop there, ancient, fifty years old, showed minarets and scenes from the Middle East.? Asalam Aleikum said a huge sign over the ride.? To Smoke it was odd - a hint of the exotic as people thought of it when he was young.??

  All of the amusements, the bathing suit stores, the t-shirt and poster stores, and the small boardwalk - open every year since 1898 said the sign - were closed.? The pizza joints were still open, and so were the fried dough places along the strip.? But few people still wandered around Old Orchard in October, especially on a Tuesday.? The sun was shining but the breeze off the water was cold.? They picked up a pizza to eat in the room.

  Smoke could hardly believe it was Tuesday.? He couldn't tell whether the past day had gone by in the blink of an eye or over the period of several lifetimes.? All he knew: if this ever ended, and if he was still alive, he would sleep the sleep of the dead.?

  They decided to take a beachfront efficiency apartment.? The motel where they stayed was nearly empty.? Smoke interrupted his story so they could deal with the desk clerk in the threadbare office.? The clerk was a girl about eighteen, and she was bored.? She looked away from the soap operas on TV just long enough to check them in.

  "The news came on before," she said, her voice flat.? "Came on right in the middle of my show.? Said there was a big shootout right at the Best Western out on Route 1.? Somebody got killed.? Ain't that something?"

  "We heard all about it," Smoke said.? "That is something."

  They reached the safety of the room.? Smoke looked at her and she at him.? Their clothes came off as if of their own accord, as if by magic, as if by acclamation.? Then they were on the bed, moving as if tossed about by a stormy sea.?

  Only afterward, lying there, did Smoke begin to take note of his surroundings.

  The room was threadbare but serviceable.? A large bed, a desk, two chairs in the main room, with a sliding glass door looking out on a small deck.? The deck was three stories above the beach.? The ocean shimmered out there, endless, eternal, unaware.?

  "Wouldn't it be nice," Smoke said, "if none of this had happened and we were just here, looking out at all that water, having a nice little getaway?"

  "It would," Lola said.?

  She hesitated.?

  "They said you killed people, Smoke."? She didn't look at him.?

  He looked at her.?

  She was sitting up on the bed eating a slice of pizza.? It was just after noon.? Behind her, the water was a deep, dark bluish-green.? Two tears rolled down her cheeks, one on each cheek.? She looked beautiful.? He wanted to freeze this moment, because he was going to say something now, and after he said it, everything might be different forever.

  "It's true.? I killed people.? I killed a lot of people."

  She looked up.? "Oh, Smoke."

  ?

  * * *?

  ??

  Pamela sat in the passenger seat of the green Ford Taurus as Cruz drove through the narrow streets of the Old Port.? Her hands were free.? In fact, her hands were so free that they played with the radio dial, looking for a good song.?

  She felt? like she had never felt before.

  On the drive back up here from the raceway, it had occurred to her that she had missed work today and not even called in sick.? In a past life - yesterday - this fact would have turned a knife of worry in her stomach.? She would have been so nervous she might have felt like vomiting.? She certainly would have had an upset stomach.

  Today?? Nothing.? No feelings for the job.? If anything, she had a sense that she wouldn't be going back to work anytime soon.? She had lived through a home invasion, a kidnapping, a shootout in a parking lot, and an attempted murder.? All of this in less than twenty-four hours.? She had barely slept and was damn near exhausted.? She had nearly died, yesterday and today.?

  And she felt good.

  She felt better than good.

  "Turn here," she said to Cruz, pointing to the right.? Cruz was her ally now.? Cruz had saved her life.? Why?? Because he wanted to trade her for Smoke Dugan?? She no longer thought so.?

  "We can ditch this car in the parking lot at the Ferry Terminal.? We can buy a month and just leave it there."

  She was thinking.? She was planning.? She was part of this.? This was a Pamela she had never known before, but had always suspected was there.

  The terminal with its three-story garage loomed up ahead.? People milled about in the little courtyard along the dock.? A couple of dread-locked teenage skateboarders jumped their boards down a small flight of stairs.? Cruz pulled into the gloom of the parking garage and found a space.?

  "I'll go into the office and pay for the spot," Pamela said.

  Cruz pulled out a stack of bills.? "Pay cash if you can.? And Pamela?? I'm trusting you.? No funny stuff, okay?"

  She smiled.? "Furthest thing from my mind."

  In the office, the woman at the desk didn't look twice at her.? Paying in cash was okay.? She gave her own name and her own license plate number.? Would this woman ever check?? Pamela doubted it.? Pamela realized that she was d
igging some sort of hole for herself - at some point, they would find the car, the police probably, and her name would be associated with it.? A stolen car, stolen plates, a shootout in a parking lot.?

  Yes, she was digging a hole, but as fast as she dug, her mind dug her right out again.? She was good at this.? If it came to it, she would show them all tears and tell them how the men forced her to park the stolen car in her name.? How they threatened to killer her if she didn't, and how the smaller one, the dark assassin named Cruz took her to a hotel room, threw her down on the bed and?

  Well, that was a story for another time.

  When she came out onto the street, Cruz was standing in the shadows of the big parking garage.? She could tell he was trying to make himself invisible.

  "I have to lose these clothes," he said to her as he surveyed the scene.? "I need to put on something a tourist would wear."

  "Cruz, with a face like that, you're never going to look like a tourist."

  "I have no choice," he said.?

  "Okay," Pamela told him.? "I have an idea."

  ?

  * * *

  ??

  "Jesus fucking Christ, you guys are too much.? You know that?"

  "It ain't me," Moss said into the mouthpiece of the public telephone at the McDonald's on Route 1 in Scarborough.? "It's that fuck Cruz."

  "Look, let's not talk about names, all right?? But Jesus fucking Christ, you know what I'm saying?"

  "Yeah.? I know."

  When Cruz had disappeared with the car, Moss had walked back here - more than half a mile, he figured it had to be.? Now he was listening to Big Vito bemoan the cascading fuck-ups Moss himself had witnessed since yesterday.? Vito's voice was especially harsh and gravelly today.? Moss wondered if the big guy had caught cancer.? Wouldn't bother Moss much if he did.?

  "I'm hung out to dry up here," Moss said.

  "How bad?"

  "Not sure.? I think I can get back to the hotel.? But I don't want to spend too much time outside, you know what I mean?"

  "Here's the deal then.? Get back to the hotel and keep out of sight.? I'm sending up another team."

  The thought of being replaced on a job was about as foreign to Moss as darkest Africa.? In fact, until this moment the thought had never even occurred to him.? It still hadn't, not in so many words.? It floated out there, unformed, unarticulated, a shadow that made him profoundly uneasy.

  "Look?" Moss said, not sure what would come out next, only knowing that he had to fill the empty space in the conversation before Vito did.???

  Vito cut him off.? "Don't say another fucking word, all right?? It's done.? I had these guys all ready to go last night, put 'em like on standby.? Now I'm calling them in.? They'll be up there in what, like five or six hours?? All right?? They'll meet you at your room.? When they get there, you'll know where your orders come from."

  "Hey, look," Moss said again.

  "Yeah?"

  Moss wasn't sure quite how to play it.? This wasn't his fuck-up, that was for sure.? This was all Cruz.? He didn't plan on taking the fall for Cruz in any way.? If they wanted to punish him somehow, maybe dock him for this job, okay.? But if they planned on hitting him for this, he wanted Vito to know he should expect more bodies.

  "We ain't gonna have any problems when they get up here, right?? I mean, I'm still me, you know what I'm saying?? I don't go down easy."

  There was a long pause in New York.

  A sound came over the phone like an old motorcycle revving up.? It took a moment for Moss to figure out what the sound was.? It was Big Vito laughing.? Moss smiled.? He wasn't sure, but he couldn't remember a time when Big Vito had laughed before.

  After a while, the big man settled down and his voice came back on the line.

  "That what you think?? I'm gonna waste my time hitting you when I got all this other bullshit going on?? You got nothing to worry about.? Now, for once and for all, let's stop all this fucking around, get the job done, and get everybody where they need to go.? All right?? Keep your chin up.? You got that?"

  "I got it."

  Vito rumbled again, a deep liquid sound.? "I'll let you in on a little secret.? It's Sticks that's coming up.? You know Sticks?? He's your buddy, right?"

  "Yeah.? He's my buddy."

  "Well, that's good.? You boys get it done this time."

  The line went dead.?

  Moss hung up, then picked up the phone again and dialed for a cab.?

  ?

  * * *

  ?

  Pamela took a taxi the five-minute ride up Munjoy Hill.? It was something she hadn't done before.? Normally, she walked up the Hill from work, a half-hour trek up Portland's answer to a San Francisco hill.? But today was a special day, and she didn't want to run into anyone she knew.?

  Deeper than that: if anything suspicious was happening at the building, she could tell the cabbie to keep going.? She glanced at the cabbie.? Typical Portland cab driver: lined face, bloodshot eyes, unlit cigar in his mouth, jabbering at and about the other cars.? Would he remember her?? Would the day come when the police asked him?? She wondered.

  Cruz had bought some tourist clothes - a bright green fleece pullover, some Dockers slacks, and a hat like a boat captain might wear - then had gone back to his suite at the Portland Arms.? She could tell he was embarrassed by the clothes.? She could tell he was embarrassed by having to trust her.

  She thought about that.? She could run now.? She could get away.? She could go straight to the police and tell them that a wanted fugitive, a murderer - and here a small shiver went down her spine and back up again - was holed up in Room 238 at the Portland Arms.? When they came for him, he would have nowhere to run.? He wouldn't consent to an arrest, she knew.? He would go down in a desperate last stand, a blaze of battle between himself and the hated coppers.?

  She could bring all this down on him, on the man who had kidnapped her.? But she wasn't going to.? And what was even more interesting, even amazing: He knew she wasn't going to.? He knew it body and soul.? Otherwise he would never have let her go like this.

  What else was amazing??

  She had asked him, "What about Moss?? Doesn't he want to kill you?? If he gets away, won't he go straight for your hotel room?"? He had smiled.? "Moss?? Nah, he won't go to my hotel.? He can't kill me in or around the hotel in broad daylight.? Not with the kind of fight we would have."

  And in his eyes, that wild light: He would enjoy such a fight to the death between he and Moss.? He actually looked forward to it.?

  She sighed.? Well, this was sure better than any book, wasn't it?

  The cab passed the building and rolled on another half a block.

  "Here," she said.? "Right here."

  She glanced back the way they had just come.? There were a couple of young moms across the street, dressed for the fall chill in jackets and tight jeans, pushing strollers down the block.??

  Pamela paid the cabbie and walked back down the street at a nonchalant pace.? The car was right here on the street: the black Volkswagen Golf, five years old.? It was a peppy little car, and she kept it well maintained, just the way her father had taught her.? It had a few nicks and scratches and tiny nobs of surface rust - it hadn't escaped the salt air of the Maine coast - but other than that, she knew it was tip-top.?

  She walked by without glancing at it.? First things first.? She was going in the apartment.? Maybe she would find Lola there.? Maybe she would find someone else there.? She didn't spend any time contemplating this last point.? It seemed near impossible that Moss could beat her here.?

  Moss, the stuff of nightmares.? From her perch in the Taurus, she had witnessed Moss walking up and killing that man in cold blood.? It had been far enough away that she didn't really see the man's head come apart, but?

  Yes, she had seen his head come apart.? It was just that she hadn't seen the details.???

  She pushed the horror of it away, and turned to the problem at hand.? If no one was up in the apartment, she would leave the n
ote she had written for Lola.

  She reached the door to the building.? As she fiddled with her key, she noticed the curtain moving in the window of the first floor apartment.?

  Not Mr. Scheiskopf.? Not now.

  Sure enough, the door to his apartment opened.?

  He appeared there, white hair slicked back to his head in a swoop.? His body was slightly hunched, his hands were gnarled, but his eyes were bright and aware.?

  He seemed somewhat? diminished.? This old man was the one she had felt something for just as recently as? yesterday?

  "Pamela, hello," he said.?

  "Hi, Mr. Scheiskopf.? How are you?"

  "I'm just fine, but there's been some trouble.? The police have been here twice already since last night, looking for you or Lola.? Have you been? okay?"

  She shrugged and tried on a smile.? It seemed pasted on and made of plastic.? "Oh, great.? You know, I went out of town, uh, last night.? And so I wasn't around."

  He smiled, too.? But his smile seemed even more fake and more pained than her own.? "The police officers thought it odd that the door to your apartment was left unlocked."

  "Hhmmm.? Lola must have left it unlocked.? She does that sometimes when she just runs out for a little while."? She read his look of alarm at this news.? "I know, I know, two young women living alone.? We should always lock our doors."

  "Lola hasn't been back, either," he said.? "I've been watching for her, for both of you."? From his expression, this seemed to be the checkmate.

  She shrugged.? "I don't know where Lola's been.? Maybe she was over at Smoke's?"

  "Well," he said.? "That's just the thing.? She couldn't be with him.? I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there was an explosion at a workshop at his house yesterday.? It appears that he's dead."

  Her smile floated there.? "Dead?? Smoke?"

  "Yes, it was on all the TV stations last night, and the radio.? There's been a delay with, uh, with the dental records, but it would seem so.? I'm so sorry."

  "I see," she said.? "I see.? Will you excuse me?"

  He reached out and touched her arm.? "Pamela, are you all right?"

  "Yes, it's just that... uh, well, it's such terrible news.? I need to go upstairs."? His hand rested on her arm.? It was time to break off this conversation.? She didn't know how well her mock heartbreak, or shock, or whatever she was going for, was playing.? She could picture him speaking to the police sometime in the future: "Well, she acted quite strangely when I gave her the news."

 
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