"Any other way we can zero in?”
"Well, unless you're looking in prisons, you count this one out,” Morente said. "He's five-and-dime at Castleview.”
"How about the other one?”
"Carlos Ortega," Morente read out loud computer screen, and then turned to the faxed and said, "Carlos Ortega," and then kept head from screen to paper, like a spectator w tennis match, comparing records, speaking the hcts out loud, "forty-two years old, born October ifteenth," and said in an aside to Willis "Birth date of great men" but did not amplify, "six feet three inches tall, two hundred and sixty-five pounds, brown eyes, bald with black sideburns, this is some kind of miracle, broken nose, knife scar over the right eye, they sound like twins except your guy was born in Argentina and this guy in E1 Salvador.”
"How do their prison records match?”
"The only time your guy was out of jail, this guy was in.”
"So they could be one and the same.”
"If you conveniently forget E1 Salvador.”
"That could be a clerical error.”
"Sure, anything could be a clerical error.”
"How long has your guy been in America?”
Willis asked.
"Two years," Morente said, looking at the screen, and then turned to study the faxed record. "Just about when your guy got out of jail.”
"Why was your guy put away?”
"Dope.”
"Where is he now?”
"Out. Naturally.”
"Anything in my guy's record about dope?”
"Nothing. But here's his whole family history.
His uncle was a pimp, a guy named Alberto Hidalgo, got him started picking pockets when he was still a little...”
“A guy named what?”
Willis said, and rea for the fax.ii "Don't tear the fuckin' thing,” Morente said "Where does it say that?”
"Right here. That's what this means in S Living Off the Proceeds. And take a look at He's dead.”
"Ortega?”
"No, the uncle.”
Willis caught his breath. "Hidalgo. Got killed a few years back.
Cyanide.”
"Do they.., do they know who did it?" asked.
"Doesn't say. This is Ortega's record, uncle's.”
“His uncle," Willis said softly.
"Yeah. Is exactly what I said.”
Willis was silent for several moments.
said, "When did your guy get out of jail?”
"October.”
"Then it's at least possible.”
"That they're one and the same person? sure," Morente said. "But I wouldn't wanna bet farm on it.”
"Have you got an address for him?" Willis a *** It was the ugly one who called her at three-thir sharp.
Like the handsome one, he spoke only .1 ish. There was in his voice a scarcely contained he was forcing himself to be civilized. She w that he would never forget the humiliation she caused him to suffer. She knew that once she over the money they wanted, he would seek revenge, he would kill her. She did not yet know quite how she would deal with that. One step at a time, she told herself. But his voice was chilling.
"Do you have the money yet?" he asked.
"I forgot that today was a holiday," she said.
"Everything's closed.”
“When will you have it?" he asked.
"I'm sure I can get the five hundred tomorrow," she said. "Then I'll have to see what...”
“That is not two million," he said.
His voice was low. She felt he'd wanted to shout the words, but instead they came out softly, and were all the more terrifying: That is not two million.
Almost a whisper. That is not two million.
"I realize that," she said. "But you know, you're the ones who suggested cocaine...”
"Ustedes fueron los que sugerieron la cocaina...”
St. "So I was wondering... I'm sure you have contacts...”
INO.
"Because it would be so much.simpler if I turned...”
"No.”
"... over the five hundred...”
"No, that is not satisfactory.”
"... and then you could handle the business of.
"No. Five hundred is not two million.”
"Of course not. But I'm sure you understand..
Trying to appeal to his sense of fairness justice... "... how difficult it is for a woman to handle a trans...”
"You should have thought of that before killed my uncle.”
“What?" she said.
"Nada," he said.
"No, what did you... ?”
"When will you have the two million?" he Had he said his uncle ? Was that son of a uncle? Was that what this was all about? A family vendetta here? We'd like the two mill, sure, but there's also this matter of My Uncle Famous Pimp Hidalgo.
"I'm still trying to make contact with she said, "I told you, this is a holiday. But this is I'm suggesting. Once I set the deal up, why you and your friend...?”
"Are you dense?”
The word in Spanish was pesada. "thickheaded" or "obstinate." Qupesada eres.
"We suggested cocaine as a way out of problem. But the problem is yours, not ours. don't want to become involved in anything She almost burst out laughing.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you?" he id.
She understood perfectly. He didn't want to run my risks. She was the debtor, let her come up with e scratch.
"What if five hundred is all I can raise?" she said.
"You said you've already made contact with...”
“No, I said I'm trying to...”
"Then do what you have to do, and do it quickly!”
"I'm not in the habit of buying and selling dope.
"Miss?”
Only the single word.
Sehorita?
Loaded. About to explode.
"When will you have the money?”
Back to the point. No more bullshit. We're not interested in taking the five hundred and investing it dope or in hogbellies. The only negotiable aspect of this deal is time. When will you have the money?
"I don't know yet. If I can buy the stuff.., look, I simply don't know.
I've been trying to reach this "When will you know?”
"That's just it. Until I...”
"When?”
"If you could let me have till the end of the Week...”
"No.”
"Please. I'm trying to work this out, I really I could have till Friday...”
"Tomorrow.”
"I can't promise anything by tomorr...”
"Then Wednesday.”
"Can you make it Thursday?" she "Please?" Groveling to the son of a bitch. okay?”
“No later," he said, and hung up.
Today, citizens all over America had lined sidewalks of cities and towns, large and small watched the parades honoring their dead in wars.
Today, veterans of all ages had about their infantry platoons or their b squadrons or their minesweepers or their drops. This was Memorial Day. A day set pay tribute to the dead. A day, also, that si beginning of summer. The swimming pools outdoor tennis courts had been opened all America today, and all over America today promise of summer loomed large. For this twenty-eighth of May, and June was only four off and ready to bust out, summer was on the summer was in essence here this was Day.
The town was full of tourists.
This was Memorial Day, this was the s, beginning of summer, this was a time when "cans dredged up memories not of warfare and ,odshed, but of summers past.., the summer of a kiss, the summer of a lost love, the summer all lights went out, the summer of distant music, the of girls in yellow dresses, summer after urnmer floating past in hot recall, this was orial Day. The tourists came to the city not to either dead soldiers or dead summers.