“That’s quite a spy system you have at the hotel,” I commented.
Carlos ignored my remark.
“What Dietrich has discovered can make billionaires of us all.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“Why include me in the deal, Ortega?”
Carlos seemed surprised. “I thought it would be obvious to you. We need you.”
And then I understood it all. “Stocelli,” I muttered. “You need a distributor for the heroin. Stocelli would be your distributor. And you need me to get to Stocelli.”
Carlos smiled at me, a thin, malevolent grimace.
Consuela started to speak up. Ortega silenced her. “Perhaps you should leave us now, my dear. You know where to meet us — that is, if Mr. Carter agrees to join us.”
Consuela rose. She walked around the small table to my side and let her hand rest on my shoulder. I felt the tight pressure of her slender fingertips.
“Don’t do anything rash, Nick,” she murmured. “The three men at the next table are armed. Aren’t they, Carlos?”
“Esverdad.”
Consuela moved off in the direction of the steps. I watched her for a moment before I turned back to Ortega.
“Now that she’s gone, Ortega, what is it you want to tell me that you don’t want her to know about?”
For a moment, Ortega didn’t answer. He lifted one of our empty glasses and idly twirled the stem in his fingers. Finally, he put it down and leaned toward me.
“Do you think I don’t know that John Bickford is a Weakling who can be pushed around without much trouble? He thinks with his cojones. All that matters to him is that wife of his, that expensive puta. And Brian Garrett? Do you think I’m unaware that Garrett is no stronger than Bickford?”
Carlos was whispering now, his face only inches away from mine. Even in the darkness, I could see how his eyes had lit up With the intensity of his inner vision.
“I can be one of the wealthiest men in the world. But I cannot do it myself. Here in Mexico I have some influence. I have connections. But what happens when we move our operation to the States? There would be only Bickford, Garrett, and myself. Can you see Bickford standing up to Stocelli? Or Garrett? They would dirty their pants the first time they came face to face with him. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“Yes. You’d get rid of Garrett and Bickford to team up with me on this deal.”
“Exactly. Now what do you say?”
“What’s the split?” I said, knowing Ortega would take my question as the first step toward my agreeing to go along with him, Carlos smiled. “Ten percent” I laughed out loud. I knew that Ortega expected me to bargain. If I didn’t he would be suspicious. Ten percent was ridiculous. “If I go along with you, then we split right down the line.”
“Fifty percent? Absolutely not.”
“Then get yourself another boy.” I settled back in my chair and reached for my pack of cigarettes lying on the table. In the flame of the lighter, I could see Ortega’s face regain its smooth, cold composure.
“You’re in no position to bargain.”
“Who says so? Look, Ortega, you need me. You just got through telling me that you can’t pull off this deal without me. Bickford and Garrett? Stocelli would eat them up and spit them out and come after you. Now, you listen. If you’re going to hold out a carrot for me to stretch after, you damned well better make it a fat, juicy one or I’m not even going to nibble.”
“Forty percent?” Carlos offered tentatively, watching me carefully.
I shook my head. “Fifty percent. And if I ever catch you trying to cheat me — even by a penny — I’ll come after your hide.”
Carlos hesitated, and I knew I had him convinced. Finally, he nodded his head. “You bargain hard,” he said, grudgingly. He held out his hand. “Agreed.”
I looked down at his hand. “Come on, Ortega. We’re still not friends, so don’t try to make me think I’m your buddy. This is purely a business deal. I like the money. So do you. Let’s keep it on that basis.”
Ortega smiled. “At least you are honest” He dropped his hand to his side and rose to his feet “Now that we are partners, shall we go, Senor Carter?”
“Where?”
“I’m a houseguest at Garrett’s hacienda. He’s asked me to invite you to join us there — if you decided to team up with us.” He smiled at the irony.
As we walked up the narrow stone and concrete steps that led up from the La Perla nightclub, I could see that we were followed by the three men who’d been sitting at the next table all evening.
A car was waiting for us at the circular, cobblestone drive at the top of the cliff. The chauffeur held the door open as we came up to it. Ortega got into the rear seat first, motioning for me to join him. As I settled myself, the chauffeur closed the door and went around to the front seat. He started up the engine and then turned to face me, his thick fist gripping the butt of a big Mauser Parabellum pistol, its muzzle aimed squarely into my face from only inches away.
Without moving, I asked, “What the hell is this all about, Carlos?”
“Your gun,” said Ortega, holding out his hand. “It’s been making me nervous all evening. Why not give it to me so that I can relax?”
“Tell him to be careful,” I said. “I’m reaching for it now.”
“By the barrel,” Ortega snapped. “If it comes out of your jacket any other way, he’ll shoot.”
I slid Wilhelmina carefully out of the holster. Ortega took it from me.
“Do you have any other weapons, Senor Carter?”
It took me only a fraction of a second to decide. I slid Hugo out of his sheath and handed the slim stilleto to Ortega. “Take care of them for me,” I said easily.
“Vamanos, Paco!” Ortega snapped out the words. The driver turned around and put the car into motion. He drove around the center island and down the hill.
We came slowly down the cobblestone streets from the cliffs of Quebrada and through the narrow streets of the older section of Acapulco. As we turned onto the Costera Miguel Aleman and drove eastward I could look across the bay at the lights of the Hotel Matamoros. Ortega caught my glance.
“It would be very bad for you to even think of going back to your hotel, Senor Carter,” said Ortega, drily.
“How do you figure that?”
“You might run into Teniente Fèlix Fuentes of the Federales,” said Carlos. “And that would have been a bad thing for both of us, como no?”
He turned his head to face me, his dark eyes glinting with malicious amusement.
“Did you think I didn’t know about Teniente Fuentes being here in Acapulco?” he asked. “Do you think I’m a fool?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Downstairs in Garrett’s huge hacienda, there was a raucous party going on. A dozen of his friends had come down from Newport Beach in an eighty-foot motor sailer. The stereo was blasting away, and half of the guests were already drunk. Td been hustled upstairs into the bedroom by Ortega and Paco. Paco had pushed me into the room and slammed and locked the door behind me.
Consuela lay on the huge king-sized bed. Across the room from her was an entire wall of wardrobes, their doors mirrored to catch every reflection in the room.
She smiled at me, and suddenly she was a sleek, sinuous jungle cat, stretching sensuously. She held put her arms. “Come here.”
I stretched out in an armchair, leaning back and crossing my legs.
“I want you to make love to me,” Consuela said, her eyes half closed, twisting her body like a smooth, limber tigress. I sat where I was, eyeing her reflectively.
“Why?” I asked. “Because the house is full of people? Does that turn you on?”