"Not quite," Vittorio replied.
"But there was a search of the Gulf for you."
"I slipped and fell overboard from the ferry, but a fishing boat picked me up and took me to Cabo San Lucas."
"You are a very lucky man, senor…"
"Vittorio."
"Yes, I remember the name."
"What can I do for you?"
"You were driving very fast, Senor Vittorio. The speed limit on this road is one hundred kilometers per hour; that's sixty-two miles per hour."
"I'm very sorry," Vittorio said. "It's a mostly empty road, and I wasn't paying attention."
"Would you step out of the car, please, senor?"
Vittorio reached outside and opened the car door, so that his hands would remain in view. He wasn't going to give this man an excuse to shoot him. "How can I help you?" he asked the cop.
"You can tell me where is the woman you and the other gringo had with you."
Vittorio shrugged. "I expect she is in New York City," he said. "We put her aboard an airplane in Puerto Vallarta."
"Senor," the captain said, "nothing happens in Puerto Vallarta that I don't know about. No charter airplane took off from the airport that morning."
"Well, she said she had arranged a charter, and we left her there. Perhaps…"
"Senor, you are beginning to try my patience. Open the trunk immediately."
Vittorio got the keys from the ignition, walked to the rear of the car and opened the trunk. He kept his hand ready to draw the.45 in the holster on his belt. The captain leaned forward to peer inside, but there was only a spare tire and Vittorio's single piece of luggage.
The cop spun around, anger on his face and his hand on his gun. "Where is she?"
"Captain, I give you my word, I don't know where she is. As you can see, I am traveling alone, and I only wish to drive to Tijuana and return to my country."
"Where is your partner, Senor Cupie?"
"I don't know. After I fell off the ferry, I never saw him again. I expect that, since he must think I'm dead, too, he went home to Los Angeles."
The captain seemed to cool off a bit. "Perhaps you are right, senor," he said.
"Captain, may I ask, why are you so interested in this woman?"
"Because she is a murderer," he replied.
Vittorio was not shocked to hear this. "And who did she murder?"
"My nephew."
"Please accept my condolences, captain. When did this happen?"
"Some years ago. She came to Puerto Vallarta with another woman on a vacation-she used a different name, then. She met my nephew at the bar of her hotel, and they spent the remainder of the evening… entertaining each other. The following morning she checked out of the hotel, and the maid found my nephew's body. He had been killed by a knife in his heart. Then, earlier this week, she checked into another hotel in Puerto Vallarta, and an employee there, who had formerly worked at the hotel where the murder took place, recognized her, even though she had changed her appearance."
"Why do you suppose she would be so foolish as to return to Puerto Vallarta?"
"Because she was running from her husband," the captain replied. "This is what your friend Mr. Cupie told me. Also, she had shot Mr. Cupie, and she had to leave Mexico City. I was not surprised to hear that this woman and your client's wife were the same person. Perhaps you can understand why I am extremely disappointed not to have apprehended her."
"I can certainly understand," Vittorio said. "I would like to meet her again myself, for my own reasons."
"Is it possible that the woman had something to do with your swim in the Gulf, senor?"
"Let's just say that if I should encounter her again in the United States, you will have no further need of arresting her."
The captain smiled broadly, revealing two gold teeth. "Perhaps if that should happen, senor, you might do me the courtesy of informing me of the outcome?" He handed Vittorio his card.
Vittorio pocketed the card. "I would be very pleased to do so," he said.
The captain saluted. "Then I bid you good day and good journey," he said.
They shook hands, and the policeman returned to his car.
Vittorio got back into the Chevrolet, wondering if the captain's story could be true. He decided it probably was.
Forty
EAGLE RETURNED HOME AND FOUND SUSANNAH SITTING in the living room, reading a book.
"Hi, there," she said. "When I woke up, you had gone."
"Yes, I had a call from the district attorney."
"About the man who tried to kill you?"
"No, about another man, the one who called me from the jail to warn me."
"I don't know about that. Why don't you tell me the whole story?"
Eagle sat down next to her on the sofa and began at the beginning, taking her up to his killing of Joe Big Bear.
"And the man you talked to today called to warn you?"
"Yes, but I didn't exactly talk to him; I observed his interrogation by the police from the next room, through a one-way mirror."
"Is it over, then?"
"No, it isn't. A detective I hired to find Barbara was supposed to send me some sheets of paper with her signature on them. They arrived today, but they were blank, and I haven't been able to reach either of the two investigators I hired to find her. I don't know what to think."
"You certainly lead an interesting life, Ed Eagle."
"Lately, it's been a little too interesting."
"What are you going to do next?"
"Nothing. There's nothing I can do, until I hear from either Vittorio or Cupie. I've left messages on their voice mails."
"Doing nothing isn't much fun for a man like you, is it?"
Eagle smiled. "I think you've got a pretty good grip on me."
"Not yet," she said, "but stick around."
VITTORIO HUNG BACK until the police car and the black Suburban left him behind, then he made a U-turn and went in search of Cupie and Barbara. The delay had allowed him to cool off a bit and to think ahead about what he would do when he caught up with her. He didn't think Cupie would sit still for his shooting her, so he was going to have to wait until he had an opportunity of getting her alone, and he didn't know how he was going to do that or what he was going to do when he did. He abandoned the search for the Toyota. Instead, he pulled into a side road and behind a cluster of billboards, where he could wait until the Toyota passed by, as it would have to eventually.
CUPIE AND BARBARA sat in the car, finishing the sandwiches the hotel had prepared for them, Barbara drinking from a bottle of tepid white wine. Cupie stuck to a can of soda, wanting to keep his wits about him. The pistol on his belt was handy, in case the red car turned around and came looking for them.
"Barbara," he said, "are you ready to tell me yet why the police want you so badly?"
Barbara sighed. "Does it really matter? They want me, that's all. I should never have gone back to Puerto Vallarta, but I thought enough time had passed."
"Passed since what?"
"All right, one of my sisters and I were there several years ago for a few days. We met this guy in the hotel bar who was good-looking and rather sexy. After a few margaritas we started talking about a threesome, and we went upstairs to our room. He got very drunk and began to slap us both around, wanting us to perform on each other. I mean, we were sisters, for Christ's sake!"
"What happened?" Cupie asked.
"I hit him over the head with a tequila bottle, and we were going to dump him in the hallway with his clothes, but Julia was really, really angry, and when she got angry she was dangerous. She found a switchblade knife in his pocket, and it was razor sharp."