“Forget that, pal,” Mary said, stepping close so that her body touched mine. “I love tough guys who aren’t afraid of a fight. Especially really sweet tough guys. But if Baba shows up, I’m carving a piece of that blubber myself.”
Reaching between the lower buttons of her blouse, she pulled out a pearl-handled switchblade and pushed the button, flashing four inches of razory steel.
“You are one surprising girl,” I said. “And that is one impressive blade. But it ain’t smart to bring a knife to a gunfight. If there’s any trouble, please just get to the car.”
“All right,” she said after a moment, putting her knife away. “If it comes to that, I’ll beat feet to your car and fire it up. But I’m not leaving without you.”
We hustled out the back door and across the lawn and through the rose garden, passing the statue of the Virgin Mary. The hair was standing up on the back of my neck. I had a feeling that Baba was going to come bounding around the house at any moment, accompanied by wild-eyed Sicilians with machine guns. But we found a gap in the hedge and hurried across the adjoining yard and made it to the Caddie with no shots fired.
Mary popped the locks and tossed me the keys.
“Nice car,” she said as we pulled away from the curb.
“I bought it to impress chicks.”
“It’s working.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
At Le Merigot, I gave the valet a five and told him to keep my car in front, then took Mary in through the lobby and up to the room I had rented the night before.
“Very nice,” she said when she saw the marble whirlpool tub and the large luxurious room with a balcony and a view of the ocean. “Is this to impress chicks, too?”
“No,” I said. “This is a hideout.”
“I was right about you!”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“That’s cool!” she said. “What are we going to do now? How are we going to get Baba?”
With no discussion, it was understood between us that we were a team now, in the situation together. Briefly, I filled her in on what was at stake besides revenge-the jewels and gold and my and Reggie’s freedom.
“I heard someone tried to steal that necklace in the desert,” she said. “That was you guys?”
“Yeah.”
I finished telling her about what had happened in Indian Wells, at the lawyer’s office the night before, and at the flophouse that morning. Most people would say it was foolish of me to take her into my confidence, but I was sure I could trust her. You don’t stay free as a criminal as long as I had without accurate intuition.
“Do you think they found the necklace?” she asked.
“We’ll know soon enough.”
She knew Evelyn from the ashram and was riveted when I explained the rich lady’s part in the story-the picture in Ozone Pacific’s magazine, the missing daughter, Baba’s extortion scheme.
“How does he know all that stuff about her daughter?”
“That’s the sixty-four-dollar question. Maybe he read Evelyn’s mind. Maybe he actually came across someone who knew the girl. Maybe a combination of things.”
Mary asked a couple more questions, then nodded decisively.
“I like the safecracking,” she said, treating me to a radiant smile. “I knew you weren’t small-time. How can I help?”
“Stay here until I get back, then we’ll see. As long as Baba hasn’t found the diamonds, we won’t have to worry about getting even with him. When the resort deal falls through and the Italians’ half million goes up in smoke, they’ll skin him alive.”
“Sounds good,” she said, looking around the suite with pleased anticipation. Its decor contrasted favorably with the ashram’s faded ambiance. “Maybe I’ll take a bubble bath while you’re gone.”
“Don’t say things like that. It puts thoughts in my head.”
“I know.”
Checkout time was noon, so I stopped in the lobby and paid for another day, then jumped in the Caddie and drove south on Pacific. The flophouse was quiet as I rolled by, no cops or gangsters in sight.
I parked at a meter several blocks farther south and walked over to Chavi’s booth on the boardwalk, searching for my partner.
He was standing near the fortune-teller, looking a tall thin black man up and down. There was an electronic bathroom scale on the asphalt in front of him and a sign tacked to the palm tree behind him that said “Guess Yer weight for five Dollers.”
“Reggie,” I said.
He held up a stubby forefinger to put me on hold, then punched the black guy lightly on the shoulder and tapped him on the chest with two fingers a couple of times.
“One fifty-seven,” he said.
A furtive look of surprise flashed across the man’s face before he veiled it with an expression of bored skepticism.
“You way off, man. I weigh one sixty-five.”
“Step on the scale.” Reggie pointed at the bathroom appliance.
“Why I wanna step on the scale?” the man extemporized. “You probably got it rigged.”
“How else we gonna know if I’m right?” Reggie said. “You got a scale with you?”
“What you talkin’ about, do I got a scale? Who carries a scale around with them?”
“Then cough up the five bucks, chump.”
“Oh, so now you don’t even want me to weigh in on your scale?”
“Be my guest,” Reggie said.
The man stepped up on the scale and all three of us looked down at the digital readout, which flickered to 158 and froze.
“See? You off by a pound!”
“Said I’d guess within two pounds. Cough up the dough.”
“Aw, shit, I don’t care about no lousy five dollars.” The man pulled a crumpled bill from his pocket and handed it to Reggie, then walked off with an air of disgust.
Stone-faced but with the hint of a smirk, Reggie straightened the bill out, snapped it once, then folded it and put it in his pocket.
“When did you come up with this brilliant idea?” I asked.
“This morning. Chavi’s been telling me I ought to have a hustle, so I borrowed her scale and made me a sign. What’s up?”
“Trouble. We need to move fast.”
Saucer eyes. “What?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
Engrossed in the palm of a bare-chested young man with blond dreadlocks, Chavi didn’t look up as we headed for the Caddie. Hurrying along the boardwalk and driving to the rental car, I told Reggie what had happened.
“That skinny kid in the orange nightgown?”
“Yeah.”
“Who killed him?”
“Probably Namo, the guy I cut with the razor blade.”
“How’d you happen to be packing a razor blade?”
“I got it from Ozone Pacific.”
“That squirrelly kid who lives next door?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’d he give you a razor blade?”
I shook my head. “I’ll explain later.” I wondered what had become of Oz in the hubbub at the house, if he was around when they ransacked the place.
At the rental, I retrieved the Tomcat from the glove box and wiped down the wheel, dashboard, and door handles. I had planned to return the car to get my five hundred back, but that now seemed too risky. The detectives investigating the burglary at Hildebrand’s probably hadn’t had time to look at the previous night’s patrol reports and find out about the two Sacramento tourists who were questioned in Norm’s parking lot across the street from the crime scene-but they might have. If they had, they would have traced the rental to Enterprise and planted a plainclothes lurker near the airport return counter.
By the time I finished erasing our fingerprints, Reggie had moved the tools from the trunk of the rental to the trunk of the Seville. We climbed in the Caddie and headed north. There was still nothing unusual as we cruised back past the flop. Circling, I drove into the alley behind the house, alert for blue uniforms and black fedoras. My heart was pounding when I pulled up by the kitchen door.
“Keep the engine running,” I said, handing Reggie Baba’s.38. “If you hear me yell or guns start going off, come in blazing.”