He turned over and sought sleep, and something right out of left field popped into his mind: Pep Boys. Why the hell had he thought of that? He tried to trace the thought back to its origins and got as far as his courtroom questioning of Cartwright, in the Joe Big Bear case, but it went back farther than that. He let his mind roam free for Pep Boys references.
Then he sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide open. Pep Boys. It was at his first meeting with Joe at the county jail. In his account of his afternoon, on the day of the triple murder, Joe had said that, while working on Cartwright's car, he had had to go to Pep Boys, the auto parts place, for a fan belt. At something like three-thirty in the afternoon. Eagle had been so preoccupied with Barbara's absconding that he had forgotten about it.
Eagle placed Pep Boys in his mind: it was out on Cerrillos Road, a busy commercial thoroughfare, not far from Airport Road. Joe could have gone to Pep Boys, then to his trailer, and he could have been there in five minutes, with good traffic. Then back to Cartwright's, and the whole thing, the triple murder, could have been accomplished in half an hour, tops.
He sank back into bed. Why the hell hadn't he remembered that sooner? Then he thought, "What would I have done if I had thought of it sooner?" He thought about that until he finally fell asleep.
Twenty-nine
CUPIE WOKE UP VERY EARLY, NEEDING THE BATHROOM.
That accomplished, he passed a window on the way back to bed and was struck by what he saw. Barbara and Vittorio were emerging from the Pacific Ocean, hand in hand, laughing and naked. They walked back toward the cottage and flopped down on a blanket, shielded from the view of the rest of the empty beach by a screen of palm fronds. Then Barbara rolled over on top of Vittorio. Cupie went back to bed.
JOE BIG BEAR turned up at the Santa Fe County Correctional Center in time for visiting hours and asked for Harold. Soon they were seated across a table from each other.
"So?" Harold asked, looking at Joe narrowly.
"So, Harold, I think you and I are going to do some business."
"What business? We got no business."
"Listen to me careful, Harold," Joe said. "First of all, I want a phone number for Mrs. Eagle."
"You said she was in Mexico."
"She's coming back, Harold," he lied.
"Why do you want her phone number?"
"Harold, I got friends in this place who would mash you into the ground for twenty bucks. Give me the number."
Harold blinked a couple of times, then recited it from memory.
Joe wrote it down. "Now, Harold, I'm going to take over Bobby's role in your little plan."
"You mean you're going to off Eagle?"
"That's right."
"But you said I get to keep all the money."
"That was then, Harold; this is a whole new now."
"You're going to do the job?"
"Don't make me repeat myself, Harold."
"For the same as Bobby?"
"For twelve and a half grand, Harold, up front."
"But I already paid Bobby a thousand."
"That's between you and Bobby, cost of doing business."
"I'm not giving you that kind of money up front."
"Sure you are, Harold. Remember my friends in here? There's that, and then there's the fact that if you don't get on board with this right now, I'm going to go see your old lady and take all the money from her, and when you get out of here, you'll have nothing."
Harold blinked some more.
"So here's what you do: you go back in there and call her, and tell her to bring twelve-five to the parking lot outside, and right now. You got that?"
Harold thought about it.
"Time's up, Harold. Get it done now, or by the end of the day, you're going to be broke, and nobody who knows you is going to recognize you for a long time."
"Okay," Harold said, finally. "Twelve-five outside in an hour. But I want the job done before I get out of here. You got five days. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Joe replied. "Twelve-five, outside, sixty minutes," he repeated, just to be sure Harold had it down.
Harold nodded, got up and went back through the door behind him.
Joe left the jail and drove up to Garcia Street, where there was a coffee shop he liked. He bought a double espresso and a newspaper and sat outside in the morning sun for a while, then he dialed the number Harold had given him. It rang four times before she answered.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Eagle?"
"Who's this?"
"My name is Pepe," he said, "and I'm calling to do you a favor."
"Who are you, and what do you want?"
"I told you, my name is Pepe. I'm going to kill your husband for you."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know the other hombre you hired to do the job, Harold? Harold went and got himself busted; he's in jail, and he ain't getting out any time soon."
"What do you want?"
"This is about what you want, Mrs. Eagle. If you want your husband dead within four days, it will cost you twenty-five thousand dollars, cash, wired to me in Santa Fe."
"How do I know you're not a cop?"
"Well, I guess you don't know, but you're in Mexico, so the cops can't touch you. And look at it this way, the insurance company is paying for the work, not you." Joe was guessing that Ed Eagle had mucho insurance.
A long pause. "How can I reach you?"
"You can reach me by wiring twenty-five thousand dollars to me today. There's no other way. If I don't receive it within twenty-four hours, your husband will go right on living, and you will collect nothing, and I'll remind him to change the beneficiary on the life insurance policy. I don't think you're going to have another opportunity to arrange this hit from Mexico before he does that."
She was quiet for a moment. "What name do I wire it to?"
"Well, let's make up a name," Joe said. "Wire it to Pepe Oso Grande"-he had a driver's license with that name on it-"care of Western Union, Santa Fe." He spelled the name for her.
"Let me think about it," she said.
"Think about it all you like, but if the money isn't in Santa Fe by noon tomorrow, Ed Eagle lives, and you lose, big time. I'll look forward to hearing from you," Joe replied and clicked off.
Joe looked at his watch, finished his coffee and drove back to the jail. He had only a five-minute wait before the woman in the pickup turned into the parking lot. He walked over to her. "Good morning," he said. "Harold sent me to pick up twelve thousand, five hundred dollars."
The woman looked at him with hatred. "Harold says if you don't do it before he gets out, he'll find you and kill you, Joe Big Bear."
So Harold had found out his name. "Thank you for that message," Joe said. "Give me the money."
She handed him a red bandanna, tied up in a bundle.
Joe peeped inside. "I'm going to count it later," he said. "If it isn't all there, Harold is going to get hurt today. So are you."
She started the truck, backed out of the parking space and drove away.
Joe went back to his truck, got in and counted the money. It was all there. "Jesus," he said aloud, "why didn't I go into this line of work sooner?"
BARBARA PUT DOWN her cell phone and turned to Vittorio. "How long are we staying here?"
"I figure one more night, just to let things cool off."
"I have to go to a bank or a Western Union office today."
"Are you nuts?"
"My sister has an emergency, and she needs money. Don't argue with me, Vittorio; it has to be done."
Vittorio drove her into town, parked in front of a bank, checked the street in every direction and waved her inside. Half an hour later, she was back.