Lying on the floor of the locker was a white plastic, much travelled suitcase, showing cuts and scars. Painted along its side was a broad red band: the kind of band people put on their cases for quick and easy identification.
Harry pulled the suitcase out of the locker and lowered it to the ground. Its weight was disappointing: it was no heavier than any average suitcase packed for a long weekend. It told Harry that there was no great fortune of money inside.
Leaving the key in the lock, he shut the locker door, then picking up the suitcase, he walked, without hurrying, towards the reception lobby.
Swarms of travellers swirled and eddied around him. A girl’s strident voice broke through the chatter and the sound of shuffling feet to announce the departure of Flight 507 for New York. Children, laughing, screaming and frazzling, added to the pandemonium of departure.
Harry kept on, avoiding people, side stepping children, intent on getting back to his cabin to examine the suitcase.
‘Hey you!’
There was a snap of authority in the voice that was like a blow.
Harry looked to his left, still moving, but when he saw Detective Lepski signalling to him, he stopped abruptly.
The suitcase he was carrying suddenly seemed to him to be red hot. He waited, watching Lepski push his way unceremoniously through the crowd.
Lepski planted himself in front of Harry: his ice blue eyes probing.
‘Remember me?’ he demanded in a tough cop voice.
Harry met the stare without flinching.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Detective Lepski... the officer who wondered if I could swim.’
‘That’s me.’ Lepski paused, a little thrown out of his stride by Harry’s apparent unconcern. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘If it’s any of your business, I’m collecting my bag,’ Harry said.
‘That your bag?’ Lepski stared at the white plastic suitcase in Harry’s hand, scowling at it.
‘Sure. I left it here last night. Now I’m working for Solo I need my things. Any other questions?’
Lepski bristled ‘Don’t get smart Mitchell! I don’t like smart guys in this City.’
‘You don’t? Who do you like? Dummies?’
Lepski’s tanned face darkened.
‘I said don’t get smart! Where are you from?’
Harry took from his shirt pocket the plastic folder containing his papers and offered them.
‘If you’re that curious, Mr. Lepski, go ahead and have yourself a ball.’
Lepski took the papers, read, taking his time, then he carefully folded the papers, returned them to their plastic cover and handed it back.
‘Paratrooper, huh?’ He regarded Harry now with a respectful expression ‘Okay, Sergeant, excuse me. You’re welcome here. We get a lot of bums through this City. It’s one of my jobs to put a rocket under their tails. No hard feelings?’ and he offered his hand.
Harry shook hands.
‘No hard feelings.’
‘You staying long, Sergeant?’
‘A couple of months. I have a job waiting for me in New York. I came here for some sun and air.’
‘You’ve come to the right place.’ Lepski scratched the end of his nose, then asked, ‘Did Solo tell you Baldy Riccard called on him, Sergeant?’
Harry’s face remained expressionless.
‘No, Mr. Lepski. He said nothing like that.’
‘Didn’t he say anything about me after I left him?’
‘Oh sure. He said you were a very smart cop and a very ambitious one.’
Lepski looked pleased.
‘He’s a smart old coot. One of these days I’ll come out to his place and bring my wife.’
‘He’ll be pleased.’
‘You think so?’ Lepski laughed. ‘I wouldn’t bet on that. Well so long: happy vacation,’ and he walked away, shoving through the crowd to the exit.
Harry drew in a deep breath. He was aware he was sweating. He crossed the reception lobby, then leaving the airport, he made his way to the car park.
He put the suitcase on the passenger’s seat of the car, got in, started the engine and drove the car out of the parking lot.
Because the unexpected meeting with Lepski had shaken him a little, his instincts for trouble were alerted. There had been long hours when he had taken a patrol through the jungle that this instinct had saved him whereas it hadn’t saved some of his men who followed him and who had allowed their alertness to become slack. Harry’s instinct for danger was highly developed and even now, after three months from the jungle, it still functioned.
As he swung the car around so that it headed for the airport exit, he spotted a dusty green and white Chevrolet back out fast, squeal to a stop, swing around and come after him. In his driving mirror, Harry saw the driver was a squat, dark complexioned man, wearing a panama hat pulled well down to half conceal his features.
At any other time, Harry would have ignored the car, but in his present state of alertness, he wondered about it. He drove to the highway and pulled up at the stop sign, his flasher indicating that he was turning right. On his driving mirror he saw the Chevrolet slowing, its right flasher coming on.
Harry edged his way into the oncoming traffic and drove with the traffic, keeping to the near side. From time to time, he glanced into the driving mirror and saw the Chevrolet was behind him.
Was he imagining the car was following him? He wondered.
The car had so positioned itself behind two other cars, its licence plate was hidden. The car was with him still as he reached the turn off to the Dominico Restaurant. As he turned, he slowed and watched the Chevrolet go past and saw the driver’s head turn to stare at the back of the estate car.
Harry drove into the restaurant’s car park, left the estate car and started towards his cabin, carrying the suitcase, as Solo appeared in the kitchen doorway.
Solo was scowling. His heavy, fat face was dark with anger.
‘You don’t take my car without asking me,’ he said, his voice harsh. ‘I don’t hire you to go rides in my car!’
Harry paused. He regarded Solo, his eyes alert.
‘I told Randy to tell you why I took the car,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve been ordering the hand rails for the high dive board.’
Solo snorted angrily.
‘I don’t take messages. Your job is to look after the beach. If you want hand rails, you tell me!’
Harry walked slowly forward until he was facing Solo. He looked directly into the little, angry eyes.
‘Okay, from now on, I’ll look after the beach and you take care of the high dive board if you still want it.’
He stared at Solo for a long moment, then turned and started down the sandy path towards his cabin.
‘Hey! Harry!’
Harry turned.
‘When are those hand rails going to be delivered?’
‘In seven days.’
Solo shifted awkwardly. He cleared his throat, then rubbed the back of his neck.
‘So you look after it, hey? So you forget what I said, hey?’
Harry walked back until he again faced Solo.
‘If you want it that way,’ he said. ‘It’s your business, Solo. You please yourself.’
‘So we do it your way.’
‘If that’s what you want.’ Harry hesitated, then went on, ‘I told you: I haven’t any patience with people who have no reason to act mean. Excuse my impatience.’
Solo grinned sheepishly. He patted Harry on his shoulder.
‘You’re right. Okay, Harry, take the goddamn car whenever you want it. Forget it, hey?’
‘I’ve forgotten it.’ Harry moved a little closer. ‘Hit me with that jab of yours... there’s something wrong about it.’
Solo’s eyes opened wide.
‘I don’t get it.’
‘Throw your punch, Solo.’
The punch came and slid along Harry’s ribs.
‘Very smart boy,’ Solo said, his eyes showing his disappointment.