The great shudders began to diminish in violence. He felt as though he were a pendulum swinging more and more slowly, as it sunk with each swing further down into a restful darkness.
When next he awakened, there was a flickering light of one candle in the shack. He craned his neck and stared over at her. She sat near the stove fashioning tortillas from masa, her hands slapping rhythmically. She smiled, and he saw the glint of her eyes and teeth in the candlelight.
“Tortillas con polio. You hongry?”
“And thirsty. Take some more money and get me cold beer. Two bottles.”
She took the money and left. He staggered weakly across the floor and then back to his bed. His head throbbed so violently that he thought it would break open.
The icy beer made him a little tight. He wolfed down the food until she gasped in amazement. He wiped the grease from his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned over at her. “How many years do you have, Felicia?”
“Eighteen, I think.”
“Where’s your family?”
Her mouth puckered up. “Mi padre, he drowned in the river trying to cross to the Estados Unidos. Mi madre, she dies of the choking trouble in the lungs, here.”
At last his hunger was satisfied. He lay back. Sleep rolled toward him like a dark wave.
“Lane?”
“Yes, chica.”
“I forgot to say. Today a man was killed in the Calle Cinco de Mayo. Stabbed to the heart. It was one of the two men who talked with you in the alley and struck the great blow.”
“Who killed him?”
“That is not known. It is said that a tall gringo, tall like you, did that thing,” she replied.
“Yes?”
“Also I heard in the market that the tall gringo is hiding somewhere in Piedras Chicas. It might be that those two thought you were he.”
“That makes sense.”
“What did they want of you?” the girl asked.
“They thought I had a package of some kind.”
“Then it would appear, Lane, that the other gringo must have the package,” she said.
“You are smart.”
“No, it is a part of living here. This is a town of much violence, much smuggling. One learns how these things happen. It gives me to think,” Felicia insisted.
“How so?”
“You came up from the south. It is said the other gringo did the same. So it is a matter of importance for him to get the package across the river, no? He hides. It is thought he has killed a man.
“Those who seek him and the package now know that they were mistaken in approaching you. Thus you could take the package across with perfect safety and possibly much profit, no? They would not think you had it.”
“Now wait a minute! I don’t want anything to do with the police any more than you do.” Lane added, “I’m no smuggler.”
“We do not know if it is a police matter, estupido! Sleep, Lane. Felicia must think...”
Chapter Three
A Daughter of Many Kings
He awoke at dawn as Felicia came in with the stranger, whose size shrunk the shack. He could not stand erect in it. He was wary. Lane found he was much stronger as he sat up.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
The man sat on his heels and offered a cigarette. Lane took two and handed one to Felicia. The stranger lit all three gravely. “You,” he said, “were the little man in the middle.”
“If this busted head was supposed to be for you, where were you?”
“I wasn’t in a cantina swilling up the local poison, that’s for sure. You got a smart little girl here, friend.”
“How long do we keep on fencing?”
“I had a little trouble yesterday. It cramps my style, Lane. That your last name?”
“First name.”
“Okay, play cute. It’s contagious. Yesterday they towed your car into the courtyard of the police station. Somebody did a good job of going through it. What they left, the kids stole. But I think it still runs.”
“That’s nice.”
“They’re about to report you missing. They got the name by a cross check on the motor vehicle entry permission. I think they’ll probably wait until noon.”
“You get around, don’t you?”
“Friends keep me informed, Lane. I’ve got some instructions for you. Go and get your car this morning. Get it out of that courtyard. Are your papers in order?”
“They are, but if you think I’m going to—”
“Please shut up, Lane. Get your car and drive it to a little garage at the end of Cinco de Mayo. There’s a big red-and-yellow sign in front which says, „Mechanico“. Tell them you want it checked over. Leave it there while you have lunch. Then get it and drive it across into Baker, Texas. Put it in the parking lot behind the Sage House. Register in the Sage House. Is that clear?”
“Damn you, I have no intention of—”
“You run off at the mouth, Lane. You ought to take lessons from this little girl you got. She’s got a head on her. She could tell you what will happen if you don’t play.”
Lane looked quickly at Felicia.
“Don’t bother,” the stranger said. “We’ve been talking too fast for her to catch on. I’ll give it to you straight. If you don’t play ball, some friends of mine are going to give the most careful description of you to the police you ever heard. And they’re going to tell just how you shived that citizen yesterday. You won’t get any help from the American Consul on a deal like that. You’ll rot in the prison in Monterrey for twenty years. Beans and tortillas, friend.”
The big man smiled broadly. He was close to forty. He had a big long face, small colorless eyes and hulking shoulders. He was well dressed.
“That’s a bluff,” Lane Sanson said loudly.
“Ssssh!” Felicia said.
“Try me,” the big man said. His tone removed the last suspicion Lane had.
“Why are you picking on me?”
“Laddy, you’re still the man in the middle. Park your car behind the Sage House and leave it there. Take a look at it the following morning. That’ll be tomorrow morning. If everything has gone well, laddy, there’ll be a little present for you behind the sun visor on the driver’s side. Then you’re your own man. But if there’s no present there, you’ll go and see a girl named Diana Saybree — at least she’ll be registered that way in the Sage House. Now memorize what you’re going to say to her.”
“Look, I—”
“Friend, you’re in. If you don’t play on the other side of the river, there’re friends over there too. This is what you say to Diana: ‘Charlie says you might like to buy my car. He recommends it. You can send him a payment through the other channel. No payment, no more favors’.”
He repeated it until Lane was able to say it tonelessly after him.
The big man took a fifty-dollar bill, folded it lengthwise and laid it on the floor beside Lane’s hand. “That’ll cover expenses. Now go over to the police barracks as soon as they open. It’s nearly six. You’ve got three hours.”
As the stranger ducked for the low doorway, he said, “Just follow orders and chances are, by tomorrow afternoon, you can be on your way wherever you’re going with a little dough to boot.”
He was gone. Sanson’s head was aching again. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “He is not a nice man, no?” Felicia said.
“He is not a nice man, yes,” answered Lane, “It is a bad thing that you should bring him here.”
“That shows what you know.” Her eyes flashed. “It was all planned by them for you to be taken by the police for the murder yesterday. Children saw you sleeping here yesterday. In the market a thing is soon known all over town. But for me you would be in prison for murder.”
“I am truly sorry, chica.”
Her anger left and her smile was warm. “It is nothing.”