The Laughing Falcon (36 page)

Benito was still carrying on. “Where is my headquarters, my office?”

“He’s supposed to take a couple of these every four hours,” Slack said. “Downers.” He gave Elmer the pill bottle.

As Elmer shuffled off in the darkness, Halcón sighed. “This is sad, about Comrade Madrigal. Why can’t things go smoothly, Mr. Cardinal?”

“There’s always something. Call me Slack.”

“Elmer says you are a man of goodwill, Slack. Also that you drive a hard bargain.”

“That’s in our mutual interest, isn’t it?”

“He must have been drunk when he agreed to twenty per cent.”

“He was stoned.”

“When isn’t he? But Elmer is not so lazy of mind as he pretends. He says he trusts you. But the American government also seems to trust you. Do I trust you, too?”

“I guess you have to take chances in life, Halcón.”

“You could be more reassuring, my friend.”

“Look, there’s no point in kidding around. Comando Cinco de Mayo — it’s brilliant, I give you credit. I know where I am, near the Naranjo. You’re about the last gringo house on a dead-end road. I don’t think you have any choice but to trust me.”

A silence. Halcón struck a wooden match, lit a cigarette. He didn’t try to shield his face, and Slack saw the sardonic smile. “I think it would be a mistake to underestimate you, Slack.”

“You have everyone else bamboozled. To the cops, you’re dangerous revolutionaries.”

Halcón’s laughter seemed open and generous, not contrived. “A Bolshevik — I had to smile at that. You share our noble motives to the tune of twenty per cent.”

“It’s a bargain already.”

Halcón’s hand reached out and Slack gripped it firmly. “Maggie had her doubts, but I had an instinct that I would find you a person
muy amable.”

Maggie
had doubts? Why was she even consulted?

“Throw those pills away,” Benito called out. “I know what’s in them. I’m thirsty, someone please get me a soda, and I want to see it opened in front of me.”

Halcón turned business-like. “Slack, I wish we had more time to enjoy each other’s company, but the night is slipping away. You require to be photographed with our guests, that must be done. We must settle on a maximum, though reasonable, figure. You’ve met with them. How high will they go?”

“For Gloria-May Walker?”

“Yes, we will put the matter of Miss Schneider aside for the moment.”

“I’m not sure, maybe five or six million if we guarantee to move fast on it. More than that, they’ll probably wait us out, hope you’ll make a mistake. Walker isn’t afraid of spinning things out, he’s begun to realize human crises win votes.”

“Feeding that man’s ambition is something I hadn’t counted on. They say he is cold and conniving – married to a woman like Glo, it makes no sense.”

“He’s an extreme guy, all the more reason to pull this off.” Slack had to remind himself he was working for the forces of law and order. It would actually be a lark to pay these guys off, let them get away, there goes the campaign, down the toilet, a politician who won’t deal with terrorists gets tubed by them.

People were shuffling about, moving sacks and boxes into the house, as Slack and Halcón discussed tactics and figures, moving fluidly between English and Spanish, trying to come up with a fair figure, suggesting negotiating ploys. “Always get them to name a figure first, triple that, agree halfway,” said Halcón. “It’s a formula that seems to work.”

“We can promise one-day delivery?”

“Two,
maje
, to be safe.”
Maje
, pal, they were getting on like long-lost lovers. “To give us time to disappear. Then Glo can be picked up here.”

“And Maggie will go with me tonight.”

Halcón remained silent, thinking about it. “The problem is this. Like you, she has a very good idea of where we are. Unlike you, she has no reason to be shy about saying so.”

Slack hadn’t factored that in. “This place may be getting a little hot, anyway. Anywhere else you can go?”

“Yes, of course, we have backup locations. Elmer can tell you where, but … Let’s see what Maggie has to say about it.”

Slack was content with that, let Maggie have a vote.

“Can you get access to the media?” Halcón asked.

“What would you like me to tell them?”

“Maggie has written a note, it was her suggestion, actually. It will explain that any funds we gain will be distributed to the poor.”

Slack could see the benefit, the tactic would marshal public support, someone stumbling onto their scam might be less than eager to turn them in.

Elmer rejoined them. “How are we getting along here?”

“I have found a brother in spirit,” Halcón said. “We are considering five million for quick delivery.”

“Yeah, quick is the right idea, you don’t want to be living with that squirrel too long. I put four of those pills in his grape Fanta, maybe he’ll dim out again.”

“Slack, there’s one more awkward matter before I fetch our guests. The authorities must understand we are willing to carry out the ultimate threat. Do you think you can make that clear?”

“That you’re prepared to kill them?”

Halcón seemed uncomfortable, maybe preferring a euphemism.

“Don’t worry,” said Elmer. “I’ll do them.”

A chilling reassurance, it produced a long, tight silence.

“I think if you promise them we are
all
prepared to die, that should be enough.”

Elmer yawned loudly, strolled off. “I don’t want to be seen by them women.”

Halcón’s chair creaked as he rose. “I’ll bring our two subjects separately. Oh, one more thing. Obviously, they mustn’t be told about our little, ah, partnership arrangement.”

“There you go,
maje
. Underestimating me.”

A moment later, he could hear a lock turn. A light went on inside, gleaming between openings in the shutters, they had power here, all the amenities. He could make out the house now, huge arches, grillwork, the structure lopsided. Behind him, in the trees, a shadowy figure, a glint of metal, an armed guard.

Slack hoped there’d be no last-minute hitch. For instance, Gloria-May may have told Halcón she’d met Slack, described the episode in Bar Balboa, maybe even the sunset cruise. It could prove awkward if he pretended they were strangers.

It was Gloria-May whom Halcón first fetched. She was wearing a short nightdress and seemed confused, as if startled from sleep, but when she saw Slack she smiled. Halcón was behind her, holding a Polaroid camera. He flicked off the interior light as he relocked the door.

“Well, who have we got here?” Glo said, then didn’t allow him to answer. “I remember you. Didn’t I see you in that little restaurant at Manuel Antonio? Got into a big argument with my old man, as I recollect.”

“Yeah, I guess I was pretty fried. Slack. Slack Cardinal.”

“That’s right. Don’t you run some kind of boat charter?”

She was quick. “Kayaks.”

“So you’re our negotiator. What do you reckon I’m worth?” Slack was astounded by how blithe she was in manner. Clearly, she hadn’t been mistreated. If anything, the opposite. “Some works of art are priceless.”

“Aren’t y’all just too suave. Where do you get your corn, fresh out of the garden?” She affected a sultry voice, addressing Halcón. “You got a light there, handsome?”

“We must make this quick,
mi hijita.”
A casual term of endearment, Halcón had charmed them mercilessly. He held a match for her cigarette, and by its light Glo located Slack, approached his chair.

“You going to take our picture, Hal? Me and this big old hunk?”

Suddenly, Glo was in his lap, an arm around his neck, her cigarette in his face. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, gingerly put one on her waist. She smelled sweetly of night sweat and something aromatic, maybe yesterday’s perfume.

“Cheese,” she said. The bulb flashed. Her smile seemed equally blinding, an athletic pose, a two-fingered salute and a leg raised high, toward the camera.

“Must you look so happy?” Halcón said.

“I want everyone to know we’re okay. I want y’all to say that, Slack.” She gently pinched his cheek, she was too hot and hip for Slack, too damned intimidating.

She got to her feet, serious now, the flirtatious lilt gone from her voice. “Tell them not to be coming here with guns and tanks. We want this whole thing settled peacefully, tell Chester that, tell him I’ll surely divorce him if someone gets hurt.”

“That’s clear enough. Any other message?”

“You can tell him I’m being treated like a lady.”

With the aid of a pen flashlight, Halcón watched the print emerge from the camera. Glo joined him, close, their bodies touching. She chuckled over the photo.

“An excellent close-up of a bare foot,” Halcón said. “But we can make out your faces well enough.” He handed the photo to Slack. “Glo, I must take you in now.”

She didn’t argue. “Toodle-oo, Mr. Kayak Man. Maybe we can run a river some time.” The light went out, metallic sounds of a key in the lock.

Everything went quiet, just the night buzz, then a cough from the man standing guard in the trees. Halcón had only a handful of followers here, not counting Elmer and Benito, all probably greenhorns, but who knows how they would react if panicked? No heavy artillery, he’d definitely insist on that, hustle the women out, then just surround these guys and wait them out. It almost seemed a pity to pull this stunt on them.

This time as the door opened, the light did not go on.

“This way,” said Halcón. “Take my hand.”

“I’m over here, Ms. Schneider. Follow my voice.” Slack sensed her trying to locate him, then felt her bump into his chair, her hand brushing his face, a gentle touch.

“Are you Mr. Cardinal?”

“Slack,” he said. “That’s what they call me.” He hoped she remembered that was a line from her manuscript, but there was silence from her.

“We can release you, Maggie,” Halcón said. “They have paid six hundred thousand dollars for you.”

“You’re joking!” This wasn’t said with astonished delight, she sounded almost miffed.

“Christ, it’s not enough?” Slack said. He wasn’t creating a fabulous first impression, that probably sounded sarcastic to her, he was coming on like the bitter antihero of her novel.

“And what about Glo?”

“That’s a different story,” Slack said. “She’ll come later.”

“When?”

“That all has to be negotiated.” She was no longer touching him, but he sensed her above him, standing, she was quite tall. “We’re doing this in stages.”

“No, we’re not. Do you think I’m capable of being that fickle to a friend? I’m not just going to walk out on her, not for all your money.”

“Run that past me again. Real slow.”

“We’re sticking together, Mr. Cardinal. Maybe you’ve never heard of the concept, but it’s called friendship. We’ve been up and down mountains together, through jungle and up snake-infested streams, and at times we’ve been absolutely terrified, and when we weren’t crying we were laughing. We’ve given each other strength. We’re not afraid.”

It was a big firm speech. Okay, Slack could see it her way, more credit to her, loyalty being such a rare commodity.

“Anyway, I can’t go.” Her voice lost some of its resolution. “I’m writing a book about this whole thing. I haven’t reached the final chapter.”

“I was worried about this,” Halcón said. “Maggie, please think about it.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Halcón turned on his pencil flashlight. “Can I see the money?”

As he approached, Slack undid the straps of the bag, then handed him the wads of money. Halcón played his light on them, fished around, ran an expert thumb through one, then sighed.

“It is with an aching heart I must return it all to you. It has never been my policy to breach a trust.”

Slack was taken aback, the grand gesture, tit for tat.

Maggie commenced a breathless speech: “Now you see what you’re dealing with, Mr…. Okay, Slack. I’m not sure if I like that name, I prefer Jacques. Anyway, Halcón’s not what you expected, is he? You thought of some cold-blooded revolutionary. No, he’s not, he has ideals, he’s been everywhere, fought in important struggles, and you can question his methods but not his objects, because everything you get from Mr. Walker’s rich friends, and I hope it’s a fortune, will be donated to the poor.” She pressed a paper into his hand. “I wrote this out, and it also expresses some of my feelings about these people, how well meaning they are.”

What had we here, another Patty Hearst? He pictured her with a submachine gun, holding up a bank to fund the people’s revolution. Five weeks of bonding had done this.

“And I want you to pass word to my parents. Tell them to relax, because I’m in great shape, just fine. And tell them to get their lives together, their
marriage.”

“Okay, Ms. Schneider.”

“I’m not through. If you have any idea where we are, I will hold you in absolute contempt if you tell anyone. Glo says they’ll send snipers, that’s how her husband would like to end this, in blood. Dammit, these are
good
people, maybe some of them are out of their depth, but … they’ll have to shoot me first.”

Slack gained his feet, then twitched as the camera flashed. He saw her finally, her eyes large and defiant behind her glasses, slender and mop-topped, radiant with courage.

He fumbled for her hand, then whispered in her ear, “I will be back for you, Maggie Schneider.”