Candy Kid (27 page)

She didn’t respond. She had already faded away into the deep dark.

There was no longer song and dance on the Plaza. No longer did Canario chirp his merry tune. Only a few quiet ones strolled together. Jose gave the guide a silver cartwheel, it made up for the disappointment of the piece of paper.

Canario would be searching for Jose. Because of the five dollars promised to him for the concert and yet unpaid. But the musico wouldn’t be searching the back streets, he’d be again on the Avenida, collecting from the turistas while he watched for Jose. Canario could watch a bit longer.

Jose remained on the corner until long after the boy had disappeared. He didn’t want to do what must be done. It wasn’t that he was afraid. It was the sickness of his spirit which held him motionless.

It was necessary that he force himself to set out. No one followed. No one wondered why a solitary man was stumbling across the wide street. It would not be remembered that he had passed this way. He didn’t approach the Street of the Little Burro in customary fashion. Tonight he would not wait politely outside to be admitted to Senor Praxiteles’ humble shop. His entrance must be a surprise to those gathered there. He could move softly, so softly that the echo of music from the Avenida would muffle the impress of his foot.

This was the rear wall of the Senor’s casa. He lifted the latch of the gate silently. The courtyard was open to starshine. He crossed it, made silent ejaculation to his patron saint as he touched the back door of the house. It wasn’t like any Mexican to lock his doors against his neighbors. But no matter how much he owned of Ciudad Juarez, Praxiteles was not a Mejicano. Either luck held or the good saint had interceded with a heavenly key. The door opened under Jose’s hand.

There was yet the risk of running into the old woman before finding the room in which the Senor entertained his guests. From the entryway, Jose could hear no voices. He padded the closing of the door with his hand, stood in house darkness. He felt his way through the kitchen to another door. It squealed faintly as he edged it open. He waited without breath but the sound evidently had not carried beyond his own ears. He was in a corridor now, without light, but he was moving in the right direction. He could hear the voices ahead of him. And after a few more steps, a mote of dusty illumination sifted into the hallway.

The door was ajar. He approached it, rubbing against the wall. He could smell over the perfume in his pocket, the sweetness of Mexican cigarettes and the sour-sweet of the Senor’s cheap wine. Praxiteles croaked, “Do not be impatient, Senores. She will be found.”

“When?” was the impatient demand. “We have other things to do besides hang around here all night….”

If it had been expedient, Jose would have remained here listening. But his must be the offensive, there was too much risk of being discovered. He took a breath and showed himself in the doorway.

The three he expected were here. Senor el Greco, dressed for important company in his rusty black frock coat and carpet slippers, rocked in a chair as old as he. In the big sagging leather armchair was Adam. And in the corner was Rags. It was Adam whom Jose faced.

Jose said, “Hello.” He was a surprise. He knew it from the frown that curdled Adam’s eyebrows. Rags was quick on his feet. Adam gestured him back into the corner.

Praxiteles agitated, “How did you get in here? What do you want?”

Adam ordered,
“Quitate!”
and the old man hushed. But he rocked a little faster. To Jose, Adam said, “You knew before you came here?”

“Yes, I knew.”

“Captain Harrod?”

“No. I figured it out.” He didn’t want to talk about it, he wanted to hear the ranch bell clanging and wake up to another day of the cattle, to laugh this off as an evil dream. But he couldn’t. “When I found Tim, I was sure.”

“He asked for it,” Rags snarled. “That little louse, trying to muscle in—”

Adam said, “Shut up. I’ll do the talking.” He turned his eyes again to Jose. “He was a louse. I lost my temper.”

“I knew it happened that way with him. But not Tustin. Or Beach.”

Adam opened his mouth, but Jose didn’t give him a chance to speak. “I should have known sooner. You were the only one who could have taken care of Tustin. But I thought you’d really started home. I had a brush with him just before I went into the Cock that night. Rags and Tim were already at a table, they didn’t leave until after I did. Tustin was dead by then. Senor el Greco wasn’t strong enough to heave a body around. And he wouldn’t have dared ride a dead man through customs. His reputation isn’t good enough. It had to be someone like you.” His smile was twisted. “And it never occurred to me that you weren’t my best friend.”

Adam said, “Tustin was a hired spy.”

Jose didn’t pay any attention. “You too had just come up from Mexico. But that didn’t mean anything to me, you were always traveling back and forth on business. It didn’t mean anything to me that you know everyone below the border the same as you know everyone above it. That you must have known Rags. No one suspects a big, easy-going, friendly guy of dirty business.”

Adam’s face looked as if Jose had struck him.

“You’re the one who grabbed the chance of using Tim’s trouble to smuggle something too hot for you to handle personally. You told that exporter’s clerk what to do. With Rags on the spot to watch the Farrars, it must have looked foolproof. I was a mistake.”

“Yes,” Adam monotoned.

“You didn’t know about me until you saw the Senor that night, did you? After he’d given me the package. I didn’t say anything to you or Beach because I didn’t want you two to be involved in trouble. I knew it was trouble. I’d caught Tustin searching my room.”

“Why didn’t you drop it then?” Adam asked in the same monotone.

“I was curious. Beach and I were alike that way, curious.” He probed, “You didn’t know, did you, Adam? You didn’t tell el Greco to set his goons on me that night?”

“I didn’t know until after you had the package. I wasn’t worried when I did know. I didn’t expect anyone to be curious about a girl buying a perfume, a girl who would have used up her shopping quota the first day. I wasn’t worried until I found out she’d asked you to bring the package to Santa Fe. And it was the wrong package.”

“Yes,” Jose said. He scowled. “I don’t get why you tried to saddle me with Tustin’s body. The police would have been curious about the package.”

Adam’s face darkened. “Fool!”

“You mean you didn’t tell Rags to hire Canario to warn you when I was coming across the border?”

“That dirty bug,” Rags began.

Jose said coldly, “Canario didn’t give you away. He handed me a
piada
about Dulcinda planning it. Like you told him. But she couldn’t have. She wouldn’t know I’d make the bars looking for Beach. Adam was the only one who knew our habits.”

Adam’s anger had solidified. He didn’t care how much Jose knew, it no longer was important. “The
piada
was to warn of your crossing. The Senor’s men were to take the package from you because you might become curious. You left the Cock sooner than I thought Beach would permit, especially with the blonde there. I hadn’t time to complete my job.” His hands knotted. “That greedy fool. I paid that cabbie plenty but he couldn’t miss an extra fare. He picked up you and Beach.”

Jose waited for Adam’s eyes to meet his. He said then, “You didn’t have to kill Beach.”

From the depths, Adam cried, “I didn’t….”

Jose cut him off. “Not with your hands. But you ordered it. When your bright boys got scared at his questions and telephoned you.”

“I didn’t mean he was to die.”

“What did you tell them?” Jose asked bitterly. “To take care of him? What did you think they’d do, slap his wrist? You killed Beach. Afterwards you hoped it was an accident.” His hand curled over the bottle in his pocket. He could smell it even if the smoke and wine kept it from their nostrils. “I don’t know what’s behind this. I don’t have to know. Harrod will take care of that, he’s close.”

“I know,” Adam said shortly.

Rags swung around. “Then why don’t you do something besides gabbing?”

“Shut up,” Adam grunted.

Rags couldn’t shut up. “Let’s get started. Do you want to sit here until Harrod walks in with those greaser cops and extradition paper?”

“You cannot leave without the diamonds,” el Greco blinked. With his toe, he set the rocker creaking.

“Diamonds!” Rags glared. “Do you think we’d be hanging around here if it was diamonds?”

Senor Praxiteles stopped rocking. “It is not diamonds?” he quavered.

Rags put his back to the old man. He demanded of Adam, “What’s more important, a damn list or our lives? I say, let’s get out of here.”

“Shut up,” Adam roared. He returned his eyes curiously to Jose. “Why are you here, Jo?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe I had to hear it from you. Even knowing the way it must be.” No one believed him. They were watching the shape of his hand clutched in his pocket. “You don’t have to kill me, Adam. I’ve brought you what you’re waiting for.” They were on the edge of their chairs. “I don’t have a gun,” he smiled assurance. “Only this.” He whipped out the bottle. “Catch,” he said. He threw it toward Adam. It was a good catch.

Adam held the bottle but he didn’t look at it. His eyes were on Jose. “Where’s the rest of it? The candy?”

“But that was a
pilon
?” Innocently, he asked Praxiteles, “No?”

“Where is it?” Adam rumbled.

“I didn’t keep it,” Jose said.

“Francisca!” Adam glared at el Greco.

“Do not be disturbed,” he whined. “She will be found. Even now Salvador and Ramirez—”

“He’s been saying that for two hours,” Rags shouted. “For Christ sake, how long do we have to wait?”

Adam looked over his scowl at Jose. “Francisca?”

Jose smiled. “She is just a child. Children like sweets.” His smile became a taunt. “I wouldn’t wait too long for her. I think she’s safely across the border by now.”

Adam and Rags were on their feet before he finished speaking. Praxiteles’ chair became motionless. Adam’s fists were knotty but Jose wasn’t afraid. There was no time left for fear.

“You knew,” Adam accused. “You knew all along.” He realized he was clutching the perfume and with an angry gesture cast it away. The perfume meant nothing; it was identification only. As the glass broke, the smell was overpowering.

“Call it a hunch,” Jose said. He threw his bluff, “I’d better get back to Harrod before he starts worrying about me.”

Rags was alarmed. “You aren’t letting him walk out of here?”

Adam said with cold deliberation, “No. I’m not letting him walk out of here.”

Jose stood quietly. “Even I, Adam.”

“There’s no choice,” Adam said.

The perfume was seeping on the floor like blood. Jose smiled arrogantly. “Without me you will never find Francisca and the
dulce.
”

A crash shattered the quietness. Praxiteles teetered to his feet. “It is the window,” he screamed. “My show window.”

Jose ran first, up the corridor from where the sound had come. The others were on his heels. But Praxiteles was between him and Adam, Rags was somewhere in the rear. Or skinning out the back way. Jose could outrun the old man and the big man. Only in passing did he note the jagged shop window. The vestibule door was open. He ducked through it, heard the whispered, “This way,” and followed the fleet heels into the darkness.

The bullet spattered as he sprinted across the street. It was offside. Adam wouldn’t want to kill him, not yet. Shooting was out of desperation; it would bring the police. Yet there’d be a sane story to tell them, thieves or hoodlums destroying el Greco’s property.

Jose kept running because there was nothing else he could do. He didn’t know whom he was following or where. He didn’t hesitate to dart after the shadow into a burrow between two warehouses. He knew then they were on the river bank. The darkness was absolute. A hand touched his, a small hand. He whispered, “For God’s sake, Francisca!”

“We go this way,” she whispered.

“I told you to wait across the border.”

“It was not safe that you go to Senor Praxiteles alone. He is a very bad man.”

The passage narrowed. He crept after her. “Where were you?”

“I listen. When I hear them say you cannot leave, I go quickly and I throw a big rock.” Her whisper was fierce. “Always I have wanted to throw a rock through his fine window.”

He laughed silently. Then remembered, “The sweets! You have them?”

“No.”

A stone dropped into the pit of his stomach. After all this…. He groaned, “What did you do with them?”

“I give them to Jaime. My
primo.
He will deliver them.”

Somehow he believed it. They would be waiting at the Chenoweth. On the coffee table in Lou’s room.

She had stopped moving. “When you go outside, you will slide down the bank into the river. It will be muddy but not very wet. You will run fast and climb up the other side. Then you are safe.”

“Let’s get going,” he decided.

Her words were softer than a breath. “You do not need me with you now. You will be safe.”

He felt for her in the darkness. His hands fell roughly on the thin blouse covering her shoulders. “Get going,” he commanded. “If you think I’m going to let you stay here, you’re crazy. After all I’ve gone through to keep you safe.
Anda!
”

She wriggled through the small aperture. He followed, sliding after her down the rough embankment. Before they hit bottom, the cries came from the top of the bank nearer the bridge. “
Alto!
Stop!
Alto!
We will fire!”

“It is the police who demands you stop!”

He shouted to her, “Keep going. We’ve got to get across to the other side.”

She was running ahead of him. Lights were being played over the riverbed. The mud was thick, like gumbo. Adam wouldn’t hold his fire, he’d have to stop them. But they were moving targets, zigzagging, crouching low. The first bullet whined past.

“Keep going,” Jose shouted again.

They were across the dividing line. They plowed to the opposite bank. The Juarez police wouldn’t fire on the North American side. It was Adam whose rage wouldn’t permit him to cease.