"LaMonica is covering his tracks," Carr said.
"Permanently," Kelly said.
Paul LaMonica, briefcase in hand, knocked loudly on the door of Teddy's Bar for the third time. He looked at his wristwatch. It was almost 10:00 A.M.
Finally, Teddy Mora opened the peephole. "We've got a lot to talk about," Mora said. He closed the peephole. The sound of a dead bolt snapping open. Mora swung open the door.
LaMonica stepped inside and gave a quick glance around. The bar smelled like a mixture of stale beer and marijuana. It was dark except for a shaft of gray light emanating from a window in the corner.
Teddy Mora closed the door and locked it. He was clad only in a pair of too-big boxer shorts.
LaMonica sauntered behind the bar. Having set the briefcase down, he poured a shot of tequila. "Where's the lemon?" he said.
Mora shuffled to the bar. He pointed to a plastic container. "The goddamn feds rousted the shit out of me at that motel. I've been trying to get in touch with you. They jumped on me like hobos on a hot dog, ripped my camper truck apart. I deserve a fuckin' explanation-"
"That's over now," LaMonica interrupted. He lifted the shot glass and swigged his tequila. "You were clean. You had nothing to worry about. The snitch was Sandy's dude boyfriend."
"That filthy-"
"He's dead," LaMonica interrupted again. He chomped on a lemon slice.
Teddy Mora's jaw dropped open. "No lie?" he said.
"No lie."
"Teddy's not even going to ask Paulie the Printer how it went down," Mora said. An exaggerated wink.
LaMonica poured another shot of tequila, picked up a knife, and sliced off another piece of lemon.
"Some feds and the local pigs were here looking for you," Mora said as he crawled onto a barstool. "They shot holes in the roof and slapped a few of the bikers around. It was because of a traveler's-check guy that came in looking for you. We kicked his ass till his nose bled." Mora smiled. "This was a favor from Teddy to Paulie the Printer."
LaMonica drank the tequila and bit into a lemon slice. "How are things with the Barber?"
Mora stared at him for a moment. His eyes lit up. "I just spoke to him yesterday. He's ready to deal."
"I've got my part of the money," LaMonica said.
Mora gulped. "All of it?" he said.
Paul LaMonica unlocked the latches on the briefcase and flipped it open. "All of it," he said.
Mora's mouth dropped open, then stretched into a broad grin. He reached across the bar and slapped the other man on the shoulder. "I knew you'd do it," he said. "There was never one single fucking moment that Teddy doubted you'd be able to come up with the money. With anyone else I would have had some doubts about whether they could produce, but not Paulie the Printer. He's a man of his word. I've always said that and I'll fucking say it again."
LaMonica turned his head to avoid Mora's morning-after breath. "So let's do the deal," he said. "The sooner the better. "
Teddy Mora swept fingers through his sticky hair. "I know where you're coming from; cops nosing around here after you. You're thinking why not get the thing over with? I'm with you one hundred and fifty percent."
"Can we do it today?" LaMonica said.
Mora slapped LaMonica's shoulder again. "There's no reason why not." He ambled behind the bar and grabbed the telephone. He dialed. Words in Spanish…"Bueno, bueno," he said and hung up the receiver. "I've set up a meeting with my local snowman. I'll see what he says. If we can do the deal today, so much the better."
"I'll come along," LaMonica said, "since I'm laying half the action."
Mora shook his head. "We both know that you have the right to negotiate — but I know my man. He'll shy away from doing any quick deal once he meets a new face. You know how dealers are. He'll want to have a drink and get used to you before he'll talk business. But he knows me. I can give him any number of bullshit reasons why I need to do a rapid-fire deal. Coming from me, he'll go for it. The man trusts me. We go way back. What I'm saying is if you want to come along, I'm all for it, but it will complicate what could be an easy wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am coke deal."
LaMonica's hands were perspiring. Deliberately he wiped them on his trousers. "I take it that you are ready to stand behind the deal. You're vouching for the connection? You're telling me that your man has cocaine and not powdered sugar?"
Mora folded his broomstick arms across his chest. He looked LaMonica in the eye. "I am," he said.
LaMonica's smile was sardonic. "To me that means if the thing goes sour, you are accepting total responsibility."
"I guess you could look at it like that," Mora said. "I'm putting up fifty grand just like you are, but I'm not worried. Sitting here looking you right in the eye, I can truthfully and honestly tell you that I am not in the least bit fucking worried." He wiped an ash off the bar and folded his arms again.
LaMonica's hands touched the tequila bottle. "Just so there are no misunderstandings…" he said. "What I am saying is that if anything does go wrong, I personally will send you to the funeral parlor."
Mora spoke without hesitation. "Like I said, I'm not worried." He looked at his wristwatch. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down for a moment before he spoke. "While I'm meeting the man and putting things together, you'd better stay right here. Stay inside and don't go out. The cops have already been here. They will figure I've tipped you and told you to stay away from the joint. They would never think to come back."
Teddy Mora dressed quickly in the liquor storeroom where LaMonica knew he slept on a cot. Mora walked back out into the bar area with a glass bottle of cologne shaped like a boot. He dabbed it on his neck immoderately. "Leave it to Teddy," he said on his way out the door.
Paul LaMonica drank another tequila. He felt an alcohol twinge in his stomach. He wished he had eaten breakfast.
Chapter 26
The Ensenada police station was quiet. Rodriguez mumbled into the telephone. Carr sat next to Rodriguez's desk. Fatigued, he tapped a pencil on his knee and stared at a calendar on the wall in front of him. He bit his lip as he remembered that he was supposed to have taken Sally to dinner the night before. She'd told him she had tickets to a play…or was it a jazz recital? Should he call her and apologize?
Kelly sat at a small desk in the corner. He sorted through the items taken from Sandra Hartzbecker's hotel room. "Now what the hell do we do?" he said without looking up.
Rodriguez set the receiver down. He rolled his chair against the wall behind him. He stretched, and loosened his necktie. "My men have checked every motel in town. Every one of my informants has been shown LaMonica's mug shot. No bites. Which in this small town means that someone is either hiding LaMonica or he's gone back across the border. If he can make his own phony I.D., he can slide across any time he wants."
"I figure him for being down here," Carr said. "But I'm not sure what else we can do to find him. Teddy Mora is LaMonica's only connection that we know of. We've hit him and it didn't do any good."
"We can hit him again," Rodriguez said, "but Teddy knows I don't have the pull to put him out of business. A Mexican businessman here in town fronted for his bar license because it's illegal for Americans to own property down here. Teddy is insulated."
The telephone on Rodriguez's desk rang. He answered it. "Hold the line," he said. He handed the receiver to Carr.
"Is this Agent Carr?" Mora's tone was impassive. "Teddy Mora here. I need to talk with you alone."
"What do you want to talk about?" Carr said.
"Paul LaMonica."
"I'm listening."
"I don't like to talk on the telephone. Can we meet somewhere?"