Every movement of the car jolted through the lump on my temple, where Kincaid’s shoe had left its imprint. The night was miserably hot. Flares of light came and went as we passed street lights, filling stations, drive-ins.
I judged we were on Nebraska, headed away from town. The intervals between the light flares lengthened. Smith turned on a side street. When he turned again, the car jounced slightly. Wild palms and thickets crowded in. Smith slowed. The car weaved in the ruts of a sandy street.
Smith stopped the car and Kincaid said, “Get him out.”
Smith did so, by taking hold of my collar and dragging me out. When he released me, my cheek fell against sand still hot from the sun. I drew my legs up, got my knees under me. Smith and Kincaid stood back and waited until I struggled to my feet.
I was standing in heavy shadows of palmetto and scrub pine. The harrumping of frogs came from not far away. I guessed we were in a swampy area not too far from Tina La Flor’s cottage. The location might as well have been the moon.
“Now, Rivers,” Kincaid said in the manner of a confident high school coach, “let’s get with this thing. First, we’re going to take the gag off and have a little talk. Okay? From there, it depends on you.”
At a nod from Kincaid, Smith moved behind me and untied his handkerchief. He took it from my mouth and I spit. He used the handkerchief to wipe sweat off that pleasant, dumb face.
With a few of the cobwebs in my brains, I had the silly urge to tell him the truth: Look, mister, I don’t know who you are or what you’re after. Or what caused the most beautiful three-foot doll in the world to shinny over my transom. All I know is that I was minding my own business when a boat appeared one day and a chain reaction started. The circumstances surrounding the death of Bucks Jordan prohibit me from the police; so why don’t you spend your time where it would do you more good?
I didn’t say it, of course. As my head cleared, I faced up to the situation. The truth was a death warrant, now that they’d tipped their identity and connection with the unknown factors behind Bucks Jordan’s murder. I’d live so long as they believed my living was worth something to them.
“Why don’t you,” Kincaid asked conversationally, “just tell us all about it?”
“Sure,” Smith said, “we don’t mean no real harm.”
“With guns in your groceries?”
“It was you that started the fracas in the alley. The gun was just to be sure we talked to you.”
“Kincaid,” I said, “this guy’s going to get you in serious trouble one of these days. He’s even dumber than you think.”
“All right,” Kincaid’s tone cooled, “so we weren’t balky at the thought of roughing you up, if necessary. On the other hand, we wanted to avoid it if we could. There’s plenty to go around.”
“Not the way Bucks told it,” I said.
They exchanged a glance. Kincaid said, “Maybe he was holding out on you.” He took a package of cigarettes from his jacket side pocket. He didn’t light the cigarette but stood rolling it gently in his fingers until half the tobacco had dribbled out. “Or maybe you’re thinking of holding out on us.”
“Listen,” Smith said, “we don’t have to do business with this guy. Give me the blade you took off him and I’ll save us some money.”
The idea appealed to Kincaid. He stood thinking about it, and I did too — with the dismal frogs singing a dirge for me, a pale moon, remote and desolate, the single witness for me.
Sweat seeped down my arms and seemed to shrink the necktie binding my wrists.
“What do you want to know first?” I asked.
Kincaid nodded. “I’m glad to see that you recognize the odds are ten thousand to zero, in our favor, Rivers. Where is the little woman?”
“Tina?”
“Is there another?” he said impatiently.
“I don’t know.”
“Gimme the blade,” Smith said.
“No, I think he’s telling the truth. It’s possible that he wouldn’t know right at this moment. Are you to meet her later?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
I licked my lips. “In a week.”
“Fine. Now let’s see if I have it straight. We never would have connected you with the little woman and Jordan, if she hadn’t gone directly to you. We’ve learned in Ybor City that you’ve known her a considerable time. Did she ring you in early — or after she decided Jordan was too great a risk?”
“You’re doing the summing up,” I said. “Find out how bright you are.”
“It doesn’t matter when you entered the picture. Jordan’s death meant a double-cross — and you’re the only possible answer.”
“You make me sound pretty rough,” I said.
“You are pretty rough. And don’t hand me a lot of malarkey about that private operator’s license you carry. Even official cops take a chance, when the odds look right and stakes are high enough.”
“Now we want the stakes,” Smith said. “Pronto. No more gassing, understand? Kincaid, I’m tired of gassing.”
“So am I. You heard the man, Rivers.”
“I haven’t got...” I broke off. Got what? What were the stakes?
“The little doll’s got it?” Kincaid asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Look, friend,” Smith said, “I’m going to carve you up unless...”
Kincaid cut him off with a gesture. Edging closer to me, Kincaid said, “You seem to have a dearth of knowledge to be in the middle of the thing, Rivers.”
“It’s the truth. But I’m not the only one in the middle. You keep me alive and kicking and I’ll try to make a deal with Tina.”
“Think you can?”
“Why not?”
“You don’t seem to have done too well for yourself.”
“I came in late,” I said.
“After Bucks took Tina out to the Sprite?”
“Sure,” I said, “after she met the Lessards.”
Grope in the dark, you fall in the ditch. I felt myself go in right then. I saw a sudden realization come to life in Kincaid’s eyes. His face quickly went acid with anger.
“Why you...” he said in a choked tone. “You’ve let us think... You’re nothing but a strong-arm the little doll hired. You don’t know where the stuff is!”
I didn’t bother to ask how I’d slipped. I had an idea. Somehow, and for some reason, Bucks had taken Tina to the Sprite without anyone knowing it, until later. Until Kincaid and Smith had come ashore and started searching.
They didn’t need me now.
Chapter Nine
As they closed in, I broke away momentarily, kicking at Smith and spinning from Kincaid’s reaching hands. I plunged straight into the thicket, head down, not worrying about minor things such as brambles tearing at my eyeballs.
Tough, green, fibrous vegetation slashed my scalp. Muck sucked at my feet. Added to the sounds of quick motion behind me was Kincaid’s voice, softly, “Okay, let’s see how tough you are.”
With my hands tied behind me, Smith was eager and happy, expressing his feelings with a short laugh. I broke out of the thicket, reaching a small wilderness of ankle deep water and lashing sawgrass. With civilization a few blocks away.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw them coming from different angles, making me the point in the triangle.
I dodged Smith’s charge, water showering from my feet to make a brief lace of diamonds in the moonlight. Then Kincaid’s weight hit me.
I stumbled, trying to shake him loose. Smith rammed his bulk against us. I went down, flat on my face, no hands to break my fall. Breath was crushed out of me. Swamp water shot into my nose to strangle me. My forehead came in contact with the black sand beneath the shallow water, and the sand was like a brick wall.