He stood up.
"Let's you and me find out if one of those beds is soft," he said.
She laughed.
"That's what you're here for, isn't it?"
Breathing fast, his unsteady fingers unbuckling his gun harness, Toni followed her into her bedroom.
Sitting in the shade and cursing the mosquitoes that were buzzing around him, Johnny saw Toni come out on deck and get into the motorboat. He looked at his strap watch. Toni had been in there for an hour.
Johnny didn't need to exercise his imagination to know what those two had been doing. He felt a cold bitterness towards her. How could she tell him she loved him?
He waited until Toni's boat was out of sight, then he walked quickly across the jetty and into the living-room.
He heard her in the kitchen. He went to the door to find her making pastry. In a casserole, the pigeon breasts were simmering.
"It's all right," she said, seeing him in the doorway, and quickly she told him what she had said to Toni. "I sold it to him. I know he's convinced."
Johnny drew in a deep breath. If Toni now convinced Massino of this story, then the heat would be off. Massino would know that he ( Johnny ), once in Havana, would be out of his reach.
"I told him you had a heavy suitcase with you," Freda went on. She paused while she rolled out the pastry. "That was smart, wasn't it, Johnny?"
But in spite of what she had done for him, in spite of her cleverness, Johnny could only think of the hour she had spent with Toni alone.
"Did you enjoy his company?" he asked, his tone bitter.
She looked at him, her eyes suddenly stony.
"Is that all you have to say . . . no thanks?"
He moved uneasily.
"I'm asking you . . . did you enjoy his company? You got laid, didn't you?"
She began to line a pie-dish with the pastry. He stood there, waiting. He watched her tip the contents of the casserole into the pie-dish.
"Didn't you?"
"That's right."
He wanted to hit her but he controlled the urge. "You're nothing but a whore, aren't you?"
She covered the pie-dish with pastry, then she put the dish into the oven.
"Aren't you?"
"Yes." She turned and faced him. "Before I married Ed I was a busy, busy call girl. He knew it and now you know it." Without looking at him again, she washed her hands under the tap, dried them, and moving past him, she went into the living-room. He hesitated, then followed her, feeling ashamed and defeated.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Thank you for what you've done for me. Forget what I said."
She sat down.
"That man meant no more to me than dozens of other men who have paid for it." She looked directly at him. "While he was getting rid of his dirty lust, I was thinking of you. You're the only one, Johnny, who has ever turned me on." She shrugged. "Can't you see, if you can get this stupid jealousy out of your mind, that I had to do it? I had to have him here to convince him you had gone and to convince him you're heading for Havana. If I had held back, he wouldn't have believed me. Can't you see that? Now, you're safe."
Johnny went to her and put his arms around her. "I'm sorry baby. You mean so much to me. I'm sorry."
"Forget it." She kissed him, then she got to her feet and went to the window to stare across the lake. "So what are we going to do now? You mustn't show yourself. Can't we go tomorrow . . . can't we get away?"
"Not yet. Although it's safer, baby, the way you've fixed it, it's also a lot more complicated."
"How do you mean?"
"If we took off tomorrow Ed would ask questions. He'd talk to Salvadore who would then know you lied to Toni. Then he'd start a hunt, not only for me, but for you. We have to wait at least another four days."
She lifted her hands in despair.
"Wait . . . that's all I do . . . wait!"
Then they heard the sound of the truck approaching and she went into the kitchen.
Massino was looking at the weekly numbers figures that Andy had given him when Toni came on the line, calling from Little Creek.
Massino looked at Andy.
"It's Toni. Get on the extension and write down what he says!" Then to Toni, he barked. "Did you find him?"
"No, Mr. Joe. I missed him by six hours. He was here, but he's gone now. The chick says he's headed for Miami to hire a boat for Havana."
"Havana?" Massino's voice shot up.
"Yeah."
"Well, come on, come on! Give me the details!"
Toni told him all he knew. He was careful not to give details of his visit to Freda. He said she gave him a description of Johnny, mentioned the medal, said he had been holed up there for three nights and had gone off, carrying a heavy suitcase.
"So what do you want me to do, Mr. Joe?"
Massino's mind raced.
"I'll call you back. Stick around," and taking Salvadore's number, he hung up.
"If he's got to Havana we're bitched!" he said, glaring at Andy.
"And he's got the money!"
"So she says," Andy said quietly.
Massino stiffened.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think we should check her story out, Mr. Joe," Andy said. "You're right, if he's heading for Havana and Luigi doesn't pick him up before he leaves Miami then we kiss him and the money goodbye, but this could be a bluff. Toni's got nothing between his ears. He'd fall for any story a woman fed him. Let's check the woman first."
Massino thought about this, then nodded.
"I'll talk to Luigi. Got his number?"
"I'll get it." Andy went into his office and returned a few minutes later. "He's on the line now."
Massino snatched up the receiver.
"Luigi? How are you? Long time no see. What's that? Yeah . . . sure is a big steal. Yeah. Listen. How about a little help? This woman . . ." He looked across at Andy who said, "Freda Scott, Little Creek."
"Yeah . . . Freda Scott, lives at Little Creek. Salvadore knows all about her. She says Bianda took off early this morning, heading for Miami and then Havana. She could be lying. I want you to send someone out there and talk to her and when I say talk I mean give her the goddamn works. I want her squeezed dry! Don't let up until you're sure she's telling the truth . . . get it? If you have to knock her off, knock her off. Will you do this for me, Luigi?"
"Sure, Joe." Luigi sounded expansive. "I've got a couple of bums who'd take real pleasure in a job like that, but it'll cost. How's about a grand: guaranteed results?"
"Come on, Luigi . . . you're my friend. You wouldn't rob me, would you?"
"No more than you'd rob me, Joe. A grand and a guarantee."
"Suppose she's telling the truth?"