Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (15 page)

‘So you nailed him?’ he asked dryly.

‘Yes…’

‘With no trouble at all, you nailed him. Like pushing a button and turning on a light. Very simple and very easy. A rabbit nailing a wolf. You know his name, of course?’

‘It was Webber,’ I said, telling myself to take it easy now, take it easy now, don’t get mad. ‘Inspector Webber.’

‘Charlie Webber of Homicide, no doubt?’

‘Webber is all I know,’ I said. ‘Little guy. Stocky. About forty.’

He laughed and started to say something, but stopped when he saw the Negro, Highness, coming in with the coffee. The black boy balanced the tray on the flat of his left hand and poured with his right, awkwardly, and handed each of us a cup. Then he put the tray on the floor beside the pool chair and started out.

‘Highness …’ Mandon called. The Negro stopped and looked back, turning only his head. ‘Don’t go to bed yet,’ Mandon said. ‘Stand by…’ The boy still had no reaction. He walked out.

Mandon sipped two or three spoons of coffee, alternately looking from the cup to me. I put my cup back on the tray without tasting it.

‘Well, that just about makes it perfect,’ he said. ‘Charlie Webber splitting dough with a hijacker, and a punk at that…’

‘He did,’ I said. ‘He certainly did.’

‘You’re overdoing it now,’ he said. ‘You should have had more rehearsing.’

‘What?’ I said.

‘I’m surprised at ’em. They usually prepare their witnesses much better than this.…’

‘What witnesses?’ I said. ‘What’re you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about the lawyers who sent you.’

‘What lawyers? Nobody sent me’

He picked up his cup and drank from it and put it down. ‘Well, young man,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to have my colored boy throw you out of here on your ear, because I don’t think you’re to blame for this. But you go back and tell ’em I’m very disappointed. I thought they’d do better than this. Much better…’

‘I don’t get this,’ I said. ‘Tell who?’

‘The lawyers who sent you. If they want me disbarred why don’t they file charges with the Bar Association? You tell ’em to do that, son.…’

‘Honest to God, I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I said. ‘I really don’t.’

‘Please, my boy. Don’t make me change my mind about having you thrown out. These traps they’re setting for me get increasingly melodramatic, and their believability declines inversely. Charlie Webber. My God, Charlie Webber! What do they take me for a bloody fool?’

‘I didn’t say his name was Charlie,’ I said. ‘I said his name was Webber.’

‘There’s only one Webber, and he’s not one to have truck with common thieves and pimps. Why didn’t they pick a cop I could believe was guilty of shaking you down? My God, Charlie Webber! The biggest cop in town.…’

‘Inspector Webber, goddamn it, that’s who it was,’ I said.

He laughed loudly and his hand went to his pocket and before I knew what he was doing he had blown the whistle that made no sound. ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said coldly. ‘I’m going to have you thrown out, after all.…’

The big handsome Negro was gliding into the room. I got up, pulling out my automatic, pointing it just above the bottom webbing of his gray-black sweat shirt, at the middle of his stomach. That stopped him.

‘Put that gun away,’ Mandon said.

‘Tell him to get out, goddamn it, tell him to get out,’ I said. The black boy stood there, tensed like a goddamn tiger, his eyes riveted on Mandon now, just waiting for the signal to spring. I was scared of him. I knew goddamn well that I could bring him down with a bullet, I knew what a bullet could do when it hit you in the middle of the stomach, but I was still scared of him. ‘Tell him to get out,’ I said again.

‘Get out, Highness.…’ Mandon said.

There still was no expression on the boy’s face. He didn’t even glance at me. He did not relax, but he straightened his head and walked out.

‘Put that gun away,’ Mandon said.

I half-turned so I could cover him and the back of the room at the same time, where the Negro had disappeared. I felt better with him out of sight. ‘You son-of-a-bitch, you lissen,’ I said to Mandon. ‘You sarcastic son-of-a-bitch, you lissen. What I’ve told you is the truth. I crashed out of a prison farm the day before yesterday, and the only reason I came to this town in the first place is because this is where the getaway car was from and we had to bring it back. I used the same car in the market hold-up, just to get enough money to move on. But before I could move, the guy who owns the car brought these plainclothes men to my apartment, brought ’em, by God, himself. They shook down, I didn’t know then that one of ’em was an Inspector. When I found out he was an Inspector, I made up my mind to nail him. And I did nail him. But that’s no good unless you help me.’ I lined the gun up with middle of his stomach, right over the coffee cup. ‘Whistle for the boy. Tell him to bring your clothes. You’re going to listen to that record.’

‘May I finish my coffee?’ he asked.

‘Go ahead.’

He finished his coffee, putting the cup noiselessly into the saucer.

‘If you’re a stranger here, how’d you know about me?’

‘Doc Green told me.’

‘What Doc Green?’

‘You know the Doc Green I mean. Baby-Face Nelson’s friend.’

‘What is the name of the man who owns the getaway car?’

‘Vic Mason. Club-footed guy. A faggot.’

‘Was there a girl mixed up in this?’

‘Her name is Holiday Tokowanda.’

‘Put that gun away,’ he said.

I put the gun in my hip pocket.

He took the whistle out of his pocket and blew on it, and the black boy popped out from the portieres.

‘Highness,’ Mandon said, ‘get my clothes.…’

Jinx set the machine up in the closet and played the record for him. He stood with his back against the door and listened, not moving a muscle, not even in his face. When the record was finished, he stepped into the bedroom and took off his loud green coat and came back and stood at the closet door. He loosened his brown necktie and rolled up the sleeves of his green shirt. ‘I’d like to hear that again,’ he said.

Jinx started the record again and Mandon put his back against the door and listened, but this time his interest was more clinical: he lifted and lowered his heavy eyebrows, he nodded his head, he pursed his lips, he bit his tongue, and occasionally he glanced at Holiday, who lay on her back on the bed, barefooted, her wrapper so snugly around her that all the monticules and concavities of her body were plainly outlined, as she intended they should be. But Mandon’s glances were virtually unobserving. There were no sounds in the world now but the faint scratching of the needle and the voices from the record, rising at us from the gloom of the closet. Eventually, they were done, and Mandon moved away from the closet door, into the bedroom. I followed him and Jinx followed me.

‘Is that the Webber you were talking about?’ I asked Mandon.

‘Yes. The same. Charlie Webber.’

‘Are you convinced now?’

‘I’m convinced, but I’m still dazed. You’re a stranger here. You can’t understand how inconceivable this is.’

‘But it happened.…’

‘It’s still inconceivable. Charlie Webber. I can’t explain it.’

‘Do you have to worry about trying to explain it?’ I said. ‘All that matters is I got him. He’s just another crooked cop who got caught in the wringer.…

‘I won’t argue with you,’ I said. ‘The evidence is on the record. I leave it to the record....’

‘Things like this just don’t happen outside of books and movies,’ he said. ‘They don’t happen in real life.…’

‘The only place they do happen is in real life,’ I said.

Holiday swung her feet off the bed, sitting up. ‘I thought you weren’t going to argue with him,’ she said belligerently. I knew why she was belligerent; nobody had given her a tumble. She had put the rises and falls of her body on exhibit and nobody had paid the slightest attention, especially Mandon. That is why she was belligerent.

‘All right, all right,’ I said to Mandon. ‘If you’ll just try to get over your astonishment at a punk, at an amateur, at a minor offender, at a pimp, at a stranger accidentally locating the heel of the local Achilles, we’ll talk business. Forget who he is and forget who I am and answer me one question. Have we got him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then, goddamn it, all I want from you is yes or no. Do you or don’t you want in on this?’

He dropped his heavy eyebrows and flattened his nose.

‘I’m only trying to convince you that you can’t go slambang into this. He’s a big man. The slightest mistake here and we’ll never know what hit us.…’

‘Nuts,’ I said. ‘Answer the question. Are you in or out?’

He turned to Jinx and Holiday with a hurt expression on his face. ‘Before he was begging,’ he said. ‘Now he’s demanding.…’

‘You got him wrong, Mister Mandon,’ Jinx said.

‘I haven’t got him wrong,’ Mandon said. ‘He’s the only thing I’ve got right.’

I didn’t know what he meant by that and I didn’t care. What the hell was going on with this guy? Was he scared to tackle Webber? ‘I’m not demanding anything,’ I said. ‘All you’ve done is be amazed and talk about what a big guy he is. Well, Jesus, so much the better. If I’ve stumbled into something that good, so much the better. You heard the record. I got him nailed’

‘
We
got him nailed,’ Jinx said.

‘Big Stuff. The Old Master,’ Holiday said.‘ “
I
”.’

‘Goddamn it, you know whose idea it was,’ I said. ‘I had to talk it into you. I had to slug it into you.’

‘Cool down, cool down,’ Mandon said. ‘Nobody objects to you taking all the credit for thinking of it. But it now belongs to all of us. Her, him, me. Is that right?’

‘Yes. Certainly,’ I said.

‘You’re sure you don’t mind if I include myself?’

‘What the hell kind of a question is that?’ I said. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do.’

‘Well, cool down then. Don’t be so touchy.…’

I won’t be touchy now, I was thinking, but later on, after we get rolling and I know my way around and can have my pick of lawyers, I’ll be touchy. It’s any old port in a storm now and I can’t afford to be touchy, but later on I’ll be touchy, you goddamn shyster, you yellow shyster.…

‘Go in and sit down and get acquainted,’ he was saying. ‘There’re a lot of things I’ve got to find out about you people before the Inspector comes tomorrow.…’

R
EECE ARRIVED FIRST.
H
E WAS
wearing the same suit, the same shirt and tie, the same two-ninety-eight shoes, and I was willing to bet that he was wearing the same socks too. The only thing different from yesterday was that he was now chewing on a toothpick. He came into the room and looked at Holiday who was sitting very demurely on the davenport. What the hell you got to be demure about after yesterday, after what you let this pig see, I don’t know, I thought. Reece did not speak until I had closed the door and was halfway back into the room. Then he said: ‘The boss’ll be along in a minute.’

‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘Would you like to go in the bathroom and use my dental floss?’

‘What?’ he said.

‘Dental floss. You know…’ I pantomimed, using a piece of dental floss. ‘Wonderful for hard-to-get places. Some in the bathroom. Go in there and help yourself. Then you don’t have to be embarrassed using a toothpick in front of people.’

‘Oh, I’m not embarrassed,’ he said. ‘I had ham for breakfast…’

‘I like ham myself,’ I said. ‘I come from a ham country. Hickory-smoked, country-cured. You don’t get ham like that at any of the drug stores around here.… Sit down.…’ Holiday was looking daggers at me and I was looking daggers right back at her. This stupid, oestrual son-of-a-bitch. ‘You’re sure you won’t have some dental floss?’

‘Much obliged just the same,’ he said. ‘You locate that friend of yours?’

‘I located him,’ I said.

He grinned and looked at Holiday, shifting the toothpick expertly to the other side of his mouth. ‘And how are you this morning?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine, very fine,’ she replied, smiling warmly.

He hauled a chair around and sat down facing her. ‘The Inspector’ll be along in a minute,’ he said.

‘Don’t be self-conscious,’ I said. ‘Make yourself at home,’ I said, crossing behind him to the bedroom door. I opened it and motioned for Jinx to come out.

‘This is Jinx Raynor, Mister Reece,’ I said.

‘Lieutenant Reece …’ he said.

‘I beg your pardon,’ I said. ‘Lieu-
tenant
Reece.’

Jinx went over to him and shook his hand briefly. Despite the fight-talks I had given him earlier, he was a little nervous. This was a brand-new experience for him, meeting the law socially with a crime hanging over him.

‘I been hearing nice things about you, Jinx,’ Reece said amiably.

‘Yes, sir,’ Jinx said, still nervous.

There was a knock at the door and they all looked at each other and Reece got up from the chair.

‘I’ll get it,’ I said. I crossed the floor and opened the door. It was Inspector Webber: the Suzerain, the Nabob, the Maharajah, the Emperor, Colossus in person. Don’t underrate him, Mandon had said, don’t make that mistake; and of course he was right, so I looked at him with a new and eager interest, trying to feel some of the awe that Mandon had felt, truly hoping that I could. But – no awe. To me he was just another crooked cop, even if his shirt was clean. Well, Charlie, I was thinking, light and hitch. Come in and have a piece of cake. Come in and get yourself shamped. Come in and try to get those things of yours out of my wringer.…

‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said, coming in. ‘I made it the back way.’

‘I forgive you,’ I said, shutting the door. ‘Jinx,’ I said, ‘this is Inspector Webber.…’

The Inspector crossed to Jinx and stared at him, completely ignoring Holiday. Jinx raised his hand uncertainly to shake hands, but dropped it guiltily when the Inspector made no move to take it, and looked very apologetic.

‘Does he know what this is all about?’ the Inspector asked me.

‘Ask him,’ I said. ‘He understands English. He doesn’t need an interpreter.’

‘What about this pay-roll you spotted?’ the Inspector asked him.