Thirteen
JOE BIG BEAR WAS LET OUT OF HIS JAIL CELL AT THE SANTA FE County Corrections Center and allowed into the yard for exercise. He found a shady spot in the shadow of the building, near a corner and sat down; he liked to stay as far as possible from the other inmates. These people were criminals, and he had nothing in common with them. He wished he could smoke, but he had given up cigarettes three years before.
He stretched out his legs and rested his head against the side of the building. There was a little breeze, and for a few minutes, at least, he could forget he was in jail. He was aware of the murmur of voices around the corner from him, only a few feet away, but he had no interest in what other inmates might have to say. Until he heard the name Ed Eagle.
Joe opened his eyes and moved closer to the corner of the building.
"The guy's got to go," a voice said.
"So, what's it to me?"
"There's money to be made, amigo."
"So why aren't you doing it yourself?"
"I would have if they hadn't busted me. I don't get out until a week from Friday. You're getting out the day after tomorrow."
"How'd you know that?"
"I know a lot of things."
"How much money we talking about?"
"Ten grand."
"All of it for me?"
"That's your cut."
"How are you going to pay me, if you're in here?"
"The thing has already been paid for. I'll get it to you the moment I read in the paper that Eagle is wasted."
"I'll want something up front. After all, I've got to live when I get out."
"You'll be released along with the others at ten a.m., the day after tomorrow. There'll be a woman in a red bandanna sitting in a pickup truck in the parking lot. Tell her your name, and she'll give you an envelope with a thousand dollars in it. She'll call you and meet you with the other nine grand as soon as I tell her to."
"Let me tell you something, amigo: if I waste this dude, and the money don't get to me, you're a dead man as soon as you walk out of here."
"That goes without saying. It also goes without saying that if you botch the job and get caught and mention me or my girl, then you're a dead man."
"How's this woman going to find me when the job is done?"
"You got a number where you can be reached?"
"I got a place she can leave a message."
"Write it on a piece of paper and give it to her when she gives you the first grand. As soon as I know the guy is dead, I'll call her; she'll call you, and she'll deliver the money. Straight up, man."
"It better be."
There were noises of the men getting up, and Joe let his chin rest on his chest and snored. The two men walked past him and away. By the time he opened his eyes they were gone, probably mingling with the other prisoners. Joe closed his eyes again, just in case they were watching.
ED EAGLE PRESENTED HIMSELF at the jail and waited in the small room for his client. Joe Big Bear eventually appeared and was unhooked by the guard, who, apparently, had a memory.
"Morning, Joe," Eagle said.
"When am I getting out of here?"
"It's going to be a few days. We've got to have a hearing where the guy whose car you fixed last Wednesday afternoon can testify, but he's gone out of town, and we don't know where he is. We're calling his house every day; the moment he gets back, I'll ask for the hearing."
"How much bail am I going to need?"
"I'm going for a dismissal of the charges. I'll call the crime scene investigator who worked your trailer, and he'll testify that the time of deaths was while you were working on a car. That should be it."
"Is there a chance I'll need bail? I'm going to have to borrow some money."
"If the judge won't dismiss the charges, he's not going to release you on bail when you're charged with a triple homicide. He'll cut you loose, or nothing."
Joe nodded. "There's something I've got to tell you."
Oh, no, Eagle thought; don't confess. "You don't have to tell me anything."
"Well, if I want both of us to be at that hearing, I'd better."
"I don't understand."
"There's a contract out on you."
"What?"
"I overheard two guys talking in the yard this morning, arranging the thing."
"What, exactly, did they say?"
"They agreed on a price. The guy who's paying had already been paid to do the job, but he got busted, and he doesn't get out until a week from Friday. He's paying a guy who gets out the day after tomorrow to whack you."
"Who are these men? What are their names?"
"I don't know. I was sitting on the ground around the corner of a building from them, and I could hear their voices clearly; when they left, I pretended to be asleep, so I never saw them."
"I want you to find out who they are."
"How the hell am I going to do that? I only heard their voices. If your name hadn't been mentioned I wouldn't have paid any attention to them."
So this was what Barbara had been talking about, Eagle thought. She paid somebody to kill him before she left. With him dead, she would inherit his entire estate. Killing him was her insurance.
"You got a gun?" Joe asked.
"Yes."
"If I were you, I'd carry it at all times. Oh, one thing that might help: the guy is being released at ten a.m. the day after tomorrow, and he's to look for a woman wearing a red bandanna in a pickup truck. She's going to give him a thousand, and he's going to give her a phone number, so she can meet him to pay him another nine thousand when you're dead."
"That's good, Joe. I'll have the police pick him up and question him."
"That's no good," Joe said. "These guys saw me when they walked around the building; they'll figure it out, and I don't want a shiv in my back. Find another way to deal with it."
Eagle nodded. "All right, don't worry."
"You do the worrying," Joe said.
Eagle drove back to his office and called in Betty. "And bring in your pad," he said. "I'm going to dictate a new will, and I want it executed by the end of the day."
Fourteen
VITTORIO AND CUPIE DALTON SAT IN THE BACK OF THE un-air-conditioned cab and sweated, while they looked for Barbara's taxi.
"Stay near the beach," Cupie said to the man.
"That's probably a good idea," Vittorio admitted.
"You and I have to get something straight," Cupie said.
Vittorio looked at him and waited.
"I had thirty years on the LAPD and retired as a detective sergeant. The last ten years I served in elite investigative units, everything from homicide task forces to fugitive hunts. You may think I'm just a fat guy in a cheap suit, but I know what I'm doing, and if you and I are going to work on this you'd better find a way to show me a little respect."
"If you're so good, how'd that lady happen to shoot you?"
"First time ever anybody put a bullet in me, and I had no reason to think she was armed. How'd she manage to get past you in that hotel room? She show you her tits?"
Vittorio managed a short laugh. "As a matter of fact, she did."
"Something else: that evil Indian act of yours doesn't wash with me. Try and act like a regular human being."
"I am an evil Indian," Vittorio said.
Cupie burst out laughing. "What were her tits like?"
"Magnificent." He pointed at his chest. "She has a tattoo of a sunflower right here, and no bush, should you ever have to identify her."
"As much as I would enjoy identifying her, I'll never have need; her face is burned into my memory. Uh-oh." Cupie pointed ahead. "Dark blue Ford cab."
Vittorio peered through the windshield. "Right. Driver, twenty bucks, if you can force that cab off the road without killing anybody."
"Senor…" Suddenly, the driver jerked his wheel to the right as a black Suburban with darkened windows cut him off while passing his taxi. He began slowing down.