"Stop," he said, opening his jacket, so she could see the gun at his waist. He took a pen from his jacket pocket and placed it on the file. "Use mine," he said.
She did not move, just stared at him.
"It would be a mistake to try with me what you did to the other fellow," Vittorio said. "In fact, he is on his way here at this very moment. I think it would be good for you to be gone before he arrives."
She still just stood there.
Vittorio reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small plastic box cutter, bright orange. With a thumb, he extended the blade to its maximum, about three inches. "You have such a beautiful body," he said. "It would be a shame to have it scarred."
A shudder ran through her. She walked over to the table, picked up the pen, opened the file and signed all six pages at the bottom. "There," she said. "You can tell him it's not over." She walked back to the bathroom door, then stopped and turned. "Now get out of my room."
Vittorio put a finger to the brim of his hat, took the file and left. He was surprised it had been so easy. He collected his bag and got into a cab for the airport, still thinking about the beautiful, naked body. He was halfway to the airport when a trace of doubt drifted across his mind. He opened his briefcase and took out the file. Each of the pages was signed, perfectly legibly, "Minnie Mouse."
"Turn around," he said to the driver. She was a smart woman. She had known he would be looking at her tits, instead of her signature.
As his cab turned around, another taxi passed them, and Vittorio caught sight of Cupie Dalton in the rear seat. When he had told Barbara that Cupie was on his way, he had been bluffing, but there he was. Ten minutes later, they arrived simultaneously at the hotel.
"Wait for me," he said to the driver.
Cupie got out of his cab, his left arm in a sling. "Oh, there you are."
Vittorio said nothing. He walked into the hotel and went to the front desk, where the manager stood. Cupie followed.
"Senor," he said.
"Is she still here?"
"She left in a taxi five minutes ago."
"She's gone?" Cupie asked.
"It seems so," Vittorio replied. "Come on." He went outside and waved a twenty at the doorman. "The tall American woman, which way did she go?"
The doorman pocketed the twenty and pointed down the road, away from the airport. "That way, senor," he said.
"What kind of car and what color was the taxi?"
"It was a Ford, dark blue."
Vittorio beckoned to Cupie and got back into his waiting cab.
Cupie tossed his bag into the front seat and got into the back with Vittorio.
"That way," Vittorio said to the driver, pointing. "Find a dark blue Ford taxi."
"Si, senor," the driver said.
"And go fast."
"Si, senor."
"What happened? " Cupie asked.
"She signed the papers."
"Then why are we chasing her?"
"She signed somebody else's name."
"And you didn't check the signature before you let her go?"
"My attention was diverted," Vittorio said. "Now, please shut up and look for the taxi."
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."