‘I don’t take orders from little girls. Your father has hired me. If he tells me to go, I’ll go, but not on your say-so.’
She swung her hand in a wild, vicious slap but Harry had no trouble in swaying out of range. The violence of her unconnecting swing made her stagger forward and thud against him. He felt for a brief moment the swell of her breasts against his chest before she jumped back. She stood panting and glaring at him and shaking with fury.
‘What’s going on?’
A small man wearing black trousers, an open neck white shirt and a scarlet sash around his waist had come out onto the veranda.
Harry immediately disliked his small, mean eyes and mouth and the arrogant way he stood.
‘Manuel!’ Nina screamed. ‘Tell this thug to get out! See him off!’ She swung around and ran past Manuel and disappeared into the restaurant.
Manuel eyed Harry, then looked inquiringly at Randy.
‘Who’s this? Did you bring him here?’
Randy shuffled his feet uneasily.
‘He’s the new lifeguard. Solo hired him just now.’
Manuel’s little eyes narrowed.
‘So what’s she beefing about?’
‘She’s upset.’ Randy lifted his hands helplessly. ‘Solo and Harry had a friendly scrap. You know Solo. It got a little rough and Nina didn’t like it.’
Manuel hesitated, then shrugged.
‘We don’t like trouble here,’ he said to Harry. ‘If you’re going to work here, watch it.’
‘If you don’t like trouble, talk to Mr. Dominico,’ Harry said quietly. ‘He seems to like it.’
Manuel’s eyes sparked and his mouth tightened. He hesitated, then looking at Randy, he said, ‘I’ll want you in the bar in half an hour. There’s work to do.’ He eyed Harry again, then went back into the restaurant.
‘Maybe I’d better clear off,’ Harry said. ‘I don’t want to make it tricky for you.’
‘Forget it,’ Randy said. ‘Solo hired you. He’s satisfied. If he wants you to go, he’ll tell you. Come on: I’ll show you your pad.’
Harry shrugged, picked up his rucksack and followed Randy along a cement path, around the back of the restaurant and finally to four wood cabins, screened from the restaurant by shrubs.
Randy pushed open the door of the second cabin.
‘This is yours.’ He stood aside. ‘Mine’s next door. Manuel has the one the other side of yours. The other is empty.’
Harry entered the cabin. It was stiflingly hot in the small boxlike room which was furnished with a truckle bed, an upright chair, a closet and a chest of drawers. Behind a plastic curtain was a shower and a toilet.
He dumped his rucksack on the floor, crossed the room to throw open the window, then moved out to join Randy who had left his guitar and duffel bag in his cabin and was waiting for him by the door.
‘Okay?’
‘Not a Hilton, but it will do,’ Harry said. He lit a cigarette and regarded Randy, then went on quietly, ‘Go ahead and say it. According to you, I shouldn’t have hit the old man... right?’
Randy didn’t meet Harry’s eyes.
‘You hurt his pride. Solo imagines he is the best man in the district. He’s never been taken.’ Randy thrust his hands deep into his pockets. ‘Hell! You certainly socked him.’
‘He had it coming. You can’t go throwing punches the way he did without having to pay the check sooner or later. It was only because he is fat and a lot older than I am that I held off the first and second times. I hit him just hard enough to warn him, but he thought he could take me and he couldn’t resist trying.’ He stared at Randy, his eyes cold and pale. ‘I’ve just come out of the jungle where dog eats dog. It’s hard to have patience with the phonies, the hippies, the freaks, the junkies and the soft livers who are cluttering up this country. If they leave me alone, I’ll go along with them, but if they start leaning on me, it’s just too bad for them.’
‘Sure.’ Randy forced a grin. ‘The trouble is people don’t expect it from you. Maybe you should hang a danger label on yourself.’
Harry suddenly relaxed. He grinned.
‘Maybe I should,’ he said.
A little after 10.00 hours, Harry saw Solo Dominico return from marketing. He watched two Negro waiters run across the sand to carry in the various boxes and baskets that half-filled the estate car.
Harry was sitting in the shade of a palm tree, a dozen yards or so from his cabin. He had been there for the past two hours, keeping out of the way and waiting for Solo to return. During the wait, his mind had been busy. He was far more concerned with the puzzle of the dead man than he was with Dominico or his fiery tempered daughter.
After they had buried the body, he and Randy had driven to the outskirts of Miami where they came on a caravan site. There was a free parking sign above the entrance and already there were some two hundred caravans on the site. Harry had decided this would be the best and safest place to lose the caravan.
At that time in the morning there was no one around. They had unhitched the caravan and had left it in a row with other caravans without being seen.
Beyond Miami, they load found a vast parking lot crowded with cars and this too seemed an ideal place in which to lose the Mustang. Before leaving the car, Harry had gone over it with a damp leather, making absolutely sure that the car, inside and out, was free of their fingerprints.
Reluctantly leaving the Mustang, they had walked to the highway and had picked up a bus that had brought them to the Dominico Restaurant.
Thinking back on each move he had made, Harry was now satisfied that he had taken every precaution to cover their tracks. So long as the body wasn’t discovered, he reasoned, there would be no pressure. The chances of the Mustang being found for some weeks in that vast parking lot were remote, and even if it were found it would still not start a murder hunt.
Harry slid his hand into his trousers pocket and fingered the key he had found attached to the inside of the dead man’s wig. He hadn’t told Randy about this discovery and he was still undecided whether to tell him or not.
He felt that because of its ingenious hiding place whoever had tortured the dead man so savagely had been desperately trying to find it. Remembering the charred, blackened foot, Harry decided that no one would have inflicted such an injury unless the key unlocked some vital and important secret.
He had asked Randy where the City’s airport was situated.
Randy had told him it was some fifteen miles to the east of the City and Harry calculated it would be a little over twenty miles from here.
He wondered how soon he could get to the airport; whether there was a bus that would take him there or whether he could borrow Solo’s car. He decided he would have to wait a day or so, but he mustn’t wait until the restaurant became so busy, he wouldn’t be able to beg time off.
He thought it was curious that Randy had so easily shrugged off the finding of the dead man once he was convinced they had covered their tracks. He was now no longer interested in the mysterious woman who had landed them with the Mustang and the caravan nor interested in the white Mercedes and the driver who Harry was sure had picked the woman up. If Randy wasn’t interested, Harry was.
But until he could get to the left luggage locker and find out what it contained, he decided it was a waste of time to think further on the puzzle. His mind now shifted to the present situation.
He watched Solo walk heavy-footed to the restaurant and as he mounted the steps to the veranda, Nina appeared.
Even from this distance, Harry could see she was still furiously angry She began talking excitedly to Solo who stood over her, frowning and listening.
Harry could hear her shrill tone, but not what she said. Every now and then, she waved towards where the cabins were and Harry knew she was complaining about him.