“But Belmont said he recognized him.”
“He backed off, you know. It’s been nearly ten years. Ezio took him over the photographs again and Belmont admitted he wasn’t sure, it was just a resemblance. I mean I’d love to think we had Merle right in our own backyard but things just don’t work out that easy. Forget it. We’ll find Merle—we’ll find him in San Diego County, I’ll bet you on that.”
“I never bet with you, Frank, I always lose.”
“The hell you do.” He grinned at her. “But that’s the right thing to say.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
New York City: 24–31 October
1
MATHIESON RETURNED TO THE HOTEL IN A SEVERE DEPRESSION. When he walked into the suite he found Vasquez and Homer going through real estate ads in the Times. Roger was fiddling with the Arriflex camera, checking its lens settings against the recommendations on the film pack. Roger looked up; it was clear that one glance at Mathieson’s face told him the answer to the question in his mind; he didn’t speak but Homer voiced it: “How’re they doing?”
“Fine—fine.”
Vasquez was cold. “She’s still upset. Very well—she’d have needed to be superhuman.”
“Don’t we all.”
“Don’t take on like that, old horse.”
“Amy’s all right. A little itchy. The boys are raising some hell.”
“Expected that,” Roger said. “You et?”
He had to think. “No.”
“Then go down and get yourself around some grub. Might improve your disposition some.”
Without arguing he went downstairs, debating the dining rooms, settled on the coffee shop. Afterward he had a drink in one of the bars, a double, and felt slightly mellowed when he returned to the suite. Roger inspected him critically. “My turn to call tomorrow. I hope it don’t have the same effect on me.”
“Hell, Roger, you’ve got the best marriage in the world.”
“Always tend to agree when people tell me that. Strange thing is, it’s true.”
Vasquez folded the newspaper and put it away. “Mr. Merle, you didn’t honestly expect your marriage to survive this. It would be imbecilic to blame its failure solely on these experiences.”
“I don’t need undercutting—not from my wife and certainly not from you.”
“You do, however, need a clear mind. You’ve half-persuaded yourself that if you were to give up your quixotic quest, even at this late date, you’d have a chance of recovering your marriage. You’ve convinced yourself somehow that it’s an either-or situation—that you can have Pastor or you can have your wife, but you can’t have both. It’s idiotic. If you accede to these irrational pressures you’ll surely lose both of them.”
Roger said, “I hate to say this but I agree with the man.”
Acidly Mathieson turned to Homer. “What about you? Nobody seems to have asked your opinion.”
“Haven’t got one, Mr. Merle. I don’t mess in other people’s private lives. Done enough messing in my own. I’ve got a back trail littered with ex-wives—three of them.”
Roger said, “I never knew that.”
Neither did Mathieson but it wasn’t enough of a surprise to distract him. He said savagely, “Nobody said anything about giving anything up. Have I even hinted I ever thought about quitting?”
“That’s beside the point,” Vasquez said. “You’ve created a talisman—the superstitious belief that if you succeed against Pastor it will cost you your marriage. I’m bringing it out in the open now because I believe it’s the kind of superstition that may become a trip wire. Whatever happens to your marriage, it will not be the result of anything that occurs here. The two matters are completely unrelated. You must admit it—without reservation. Otherwise we’re in peril.”
“You may be right. I may have been putting it to myself like that. I don’t know. I haven’t been able to think clearly about it.”
“Then do so now.” Vasquez left his chair and stood looking down at Homer. “I’ve been thinking that perhaps you should leave us, Homer.”
“What?”
“Return to Los Angeles. There are tasks waiting at the home office. Things have piled up during my inexcusable absence.”
“You’ve never thrown me off a case in the middle.”
“There are things that will transpire here, things you don’t need to participate in. Please don’t be whimsically gallant. I need you more at the home office than here.”
Mathieson’s rage shifted toward the available target: “Is that the thanks he gets? At least Homer deserves to be in at the finish.”
“Please stay out of this, Mr. Merle. Homer knows nothing of your plans. If we exposed the scheme to him he would find it anathema. It would go against every principle in him. But he would insist on backing us to the hilt out of his loyalty to me. I don’t wish to confront him with that dilemma.”
Homer was on his feet. “Talk to me, not about me.”
“I’ve done so. You have your instructions.”
“It must be something that stinks pretty awful. I’ve gone a long way down a lot of roads with you. Where did you change? I didn’t spot it. Where’d you all of a sudden park your values, Diego?”
“I never had a shot at evil so large before.”
“And all of a sudden it’s the end that justifies the means?”
“The means are, to say the least, appropriate.”
Abruptly Homer turned to Mathieson. “We’ve had fun so far. Does it have to go sour now?”
“I was never playing for fun, Homer.”
“That’s too bad. You play the game better than anybody I know outside of Diego.” He turned back to Vasquez. “I’m not going.”
“Don’t presume to——”
“Diego, I’m not going. You want to fire me, then fire me. I imagine Mr. Merle will put me on the payroll.”
Mathieson said, “If that’s what you want.”
Vasquez turned away. “It’s a bloody mutiny.”
“No,” Homer said. “Just a touch of insubordination. You’ve never hired lackeys—what do you expect?”
“I’m rather touched, Homer.”
“Is that sarcasm?”
“No. It’s the simple truth.”
“Then I stay.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Your exception is noted.”
“Very well.” Capitulating, Vasquez sat down again. But distaste was ground into his features. He scrutinized Mathieson. “It’s reprehensible. Despicable.”
“Think of an alternative.”
“Easily. Kill them.”
“No. I won’t do that.”
“You’re a terrible man, Mr. Merle.”
“Then clear out.”
“You couldn’t possibly handle it alone. It will be supremely difficult for four of us.”
“Then why did you try to send Homer away?”
“For exactly the reasons I gave. I don’t lie about such things.”
“If you’re so reluctant you may only be a burden to me.”
“I’ll carry my share of the weight—and the guilt.” Vasquez lifted his coat off the back of the chair. “There’s little sense wasting time. Let’s find a dealer.”
“How? I blew it with Cestone—he never led us to the connection.”
“Cestone’s connection is not the only source in New York. I made several calls while you were on the line to California.”
“And you found a connection just by making a few phone calls?”
“I’ve been in my profession a great many years …”
Roger said, “I take it you got names.”
“Names and likely places where we can look for the bearers of those names. You have your revolver?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Follow my lead and don’t speak unless you must.”
“I’m becoming an expert at looking sinister.” Mathieson didn’t smile at all. “Do you know how to use the stuff?”