The Melting Man

'Congratulations. Now get on with the bloody story.'

'Of course, of course.' He started to laugh, tears squeezing out of his eyes, and there was no doubt that it was genuine. I couldn't wait to be let in on the joke. There's nothing more annoying than people laughing and you right out in the cold as to why. He looked up at me, hands behind his neck, sitting there like a Buddha, and he wobbled his big head with joy. 'He was drunk, you know. Not stoned. But… well, well away. That's why it happened. Mind you, he was always like that after a job, excited, wings on him. You know feet right off the ground. It takes you all ways after a job. Me, well, I don't alter much — except I get bad heartburn. Never anything more.'

I said firmly, 'If you don't come to the point I'll—'

'All right. All right now. Just wanted you to know how it was. Yes, Otto was well away. That's why I never liked him driving, but he always would. Anyway, we took off in the car. We were only going to use it for about ten kilometres. Not safe otherwise. We had another waiting for us up in the mountains, ready for the switch and the ditch. The switch and the ditch!' He started to chuckle again and it rumbled around inside his throat like a caged bear trying to get out. I sat there and ordered myself to be patient. He had only one way of telling a story and there was nothing I could do about it. If it had been his gallows-side confession he would have laughed through it in his own good time until any priest would have wanted to crack him one and skip the final absolution.

He looked up at me, tears in his eyes, and said, 'It was the funniest thing you've ever seen.'

'It wasn't — because I didn't see it. But come on, tell me, and make me laugh.'

'Well… there was this place up in the mountains. Up a dirt road through woods to a lake. We'd left the other car there. Otto sang like a bird all the way there. Man, he was wild. You know, I think when he did a job there was something sexual about it for him. I was talking to Mimi about it—'

'Come to the point.'

For a moment he looked piqued, really hurt, like a fat, jolly boy who'd been reprimanded unjustly.

'Well… the other car was there, so we off-loaded the stuff into it, and then Otto ran the Mercedes close to the edge of the lake. It was an open slope, about ten yards of it, down to the lake edge and over a ten foot drop into deep water. Nobody goes up there much. Just a few fishermen. It's a beautiful spot. A good place to spend a day…' He rocked with a sudden outburst of fresh giggles. 'A great place to spend the rest of your days.'

In a minute he was going to tell me what size the trout ran to and I was going to clout him over the head with the shotgun.

He saw the look in my eyes and sobered up a little.

'Well, all you had to do was let off the hand brake and start her rolling. And that's all Otto did. He opened the door, reached in and let off the brake — and the Merc started rolling. Lord, I never saw anything so funny. The car went off before he was ready for it… really it did. Rolled away and the door swings back a little against him and somehow his jacket or something got caught up inside so that he was dragged with it, half in half out. You've got to believe me when I say I tried to get to him. It was instinctive. You see a man in trouble and you go to help — but it was too late. The tipsy bastard lost his head and he yells and pulls his feet up, half in and half out. I think he was trying to get at the brake again to hold the Merc. Before I could do a thing, he was over the side in a damn great splash.' He looked up at me, shaking his head at the comic wonder of it all, his plump face beaming, the little eyes shining with happy tears behind his glasses.

'And what did you do?' I got to my feet. 'Just stand there and read the service for those lost at sea?'

'I couldn't do a thing. I can't swim. And the lake, right off the edge there, is about twenty feet deep. Anyway, I knew Otto could swim, so I just waited for him to come up. But he didn't. I gave him fifteen minutes, but no sign of him… so what would you have done? What would any man have done in the circumstances? He was out of my hair, no trouble to Mimi any more — he really didn't like that baby, you know — and I got the full share of the payroll we'd taken. I just got into the other car and drove back to Mimi.'

'Laughing all the way.'

He grinned. 'Well, I had to chuckle now and then. Don't tell me you're upset about this? You said you hoped he was dead.'

'Frankly, I'm delighted. It's just that I'm old-fashioned enough not to show it by a good belly-laugh.'

Keeping him in sight, I went to the desk and got a pencil and a sheet of paper.

Tony was a bright boy.

'You want me to draw a map?'

I dropped the paper and pencil at his feet.

'Do that. And make it accurate. If you shove me off with any phoney details, I'll laugh my way to the nearest phone and ring a friend of mine at Interpol. Play ball — and you can shove off from here and I'll forget that I ever met you. You'd be surprise how easy that will be.'

'You can rely on me. Besides, I got Mimi and the baby to think about now.'

He sat on the floor and began to sketch out the details of the road and the track up to the lake, giving me a running commentary as I stood behind him.

Once, he looked up and said, 'What's all the fuss about this car anyway?'

'My client wants it back.'

He shrugged. 'Why — O'Dowda could make a better deal with the insurance company?' I went poker-faced.

'How did you know my client was called O'Dowda?'

'From Otto, of course, and the car. All the registration papers were in it when I did the respray.'

'Did Otto know O'Dowda?' Tony shook his head at me sadly.

'You haven't done your homework. Up to about two years ago Otto was second-chauffeur at O'Dowda's place near Evian. Used to drive the wife about. News to you?'

It was news to me — and news that suddenly made sense of a lot of things that had quietly puzzled me.

I said, 'Give me the map.'

He handed it over his shoulder and I stood back from him. 'What now?' he said.

'You blow,' I said. 'I'm not having the spare bed mucked up and I'm not making breakfast for two. On your feet.'

I escorted him to the front door and covered him as he went down the steps. At the bottom he turned and beamed up at me.

'Done you a good turn, haven't I? And all for free. No charge. Just goodness of heart. Know what, too? I've complete confidence in you. About that Interpol thing, I mean. Keeping your mouth shut and so on. I'm a good judge of character. I said to Mimi after you left, "Now, there's a buono raggazzo who—"'

'Skip it. I've got all the character references I need.'

'Okay. And when you finally lift that car out, just say hello to Otto for me.'

He went and I could hear his rich laughter burbling all the way down the drive. Life should have more characters like him, simple, uncomplicated, always ready to look on the bright side of things, and good with children, too.

I went back in and packed up my stuff and made myself a cup of coffee against the journey ahead. I should have skipped the coffee because then I would have missed Aristide.

As I picked up my suitcase in the main room and made for the hall door, I saw the headlights of a car wheel across the window. Not knowing who it was, but having various possibilities in mind, I had only one thought. Almost any visitor at four o'clock in the morning might be interested in the location of the Mercedes. I whipped out the plan which Tony had drawn and shoved it under one of the chair cushions. Then I picked up the shotgun from the table. It was a good gun, a well-used Cogswell and Harrison hammerless ejector with nicely engraved strengthening plates on the walnut stock.