Captiva

His foot slowed momentarily . . . then resumed its normal pace. 'I had thousands of partners. Out there on the streets. They remember men who look like you and me, Ford. We all probably look alike to them.'

Little did he know.

I said, 'You were never alone, Ray? I seldom see anyone in the parks along the Deli River.'

Tullock's foot began to lose speed . . . then stopped. He leaned toward me slightly and for a moment, just a moment, I could see the craziness that was in him. 'You've made a terrible mistake, buddy. You have no idea just how deep the hole is you're digging—you should have done some reading before you came. I know about this country.'

I said, 'Ray, I've made mistakes that were a hell of a lot bigger than this. Mistakes I'm going to regret for the rest of my life. Like that bomb you left for me? I made a mistake and it ended up killing Hannah.'

Slowly, very slowly, the color of his face changed from brown to red, and then to gray: Hawkeye's sidekick after hearing some shocking news. 'You're . . . you're lying,' he whispered.

'I wish I were. The mistake I made was not realizing just how scrambled your brain really is.'

He had both feet on the linoleum now, both hands on the armrest. 'She's not dead, she can't be dead. I put that thing—' He caught himself in time; realized that the two Indonesian cops had stopped their search and were listening. He sat back. 'I don't know what the hell you're talking about.'

'What I'm talking about, Ray, is what you stole from me.' I used my head to gesture toward Lieutenant Suradi. In his hand he was holding the small opaque green ball that I had already described to him . . . and which I had just watched him remove from the open drawer of a dresser. To the lieutenant, I said, 'That's it. He must have taken it from my room when I was out. It's extremely valuable.'

'That's not his, it's mine! Don't you see what he's doing?' Tullock was on his feet now, beginning to lose it. Also getting some very hard looks from the cops. He forced himself to pause . . . took a very deep breath, fighting hard to recover. Actually managed to give Suradi a little smile as he said, 'What if I prove that glass ball belongs to me? Will that make you happy?'

Lieutenant Suradi said in a chilly, formal voice, 'He tell us it's here. We find it.'

'But it was in my room all along! He's trying to make fools of you. I'll show you—' Tullock hustled over to his briefcase and pulled out a sheet of long pinkish paper, the color of a legal document in Sumatra. 'I was expecting him to pull something like this. At the suggestion of my Japanese associates, I had their secretary list everything that I brought into the country. Everything I have in this room. See?' Tullock was showing them the paper. 'It's listed right here. See this? 'Green glass ornament.' I carry it as a good luck charm.' Gave the tone just the right inflection—an innocent admission of silliness made by an innocent man.

Now Suradi and Prajurit had turned their cold stares on me. My expression said, Oh, shit. . . .

Tullock pressed the advantage. 'The man's trying to frame me. Look at his face! He's trying to set me up —'

'What's the date on that list?' I asked Suradi.

He checked it. 'Dated . . . two . . . no, three days ago.' I watched his eyes shift from the paper to me. 'You robbed yesterday, sahr. That's what you say.'

I thought about how nice it would be to shake Rengat by the neck.

'They could have postdated it. The date on that paper means nothing.'

Tullock had made a full recovery now. 'I'm afraid it's your word against mine, sport. My word and the word of my business associates. All very respectable Japanese businessmen.' He slapped the paper. 'Listed right here in black and white.'

I stood, took the bandanna from my pocket and wiped the sweat from my forehead. 'May I see the glass ball?'

Suradi hesitated, then handed it to me.

'I guess I could have made a mistake, but it's very similar.' I motioned to the floor lamp. 'Can you pull that over so I can see a little better?' I stuffed the bandanna back in my pocket as I held the sphere up to the light. The glass was so old and fogged that the light succeeded only in changing its color from black green to jade green. I pushed my glasses up on my head, inspecting more closely. Cleared my throat—couldn't hide my nervousness— then, after a long pause, I said, 'I'm afraid I owe Mr. Tullock an apology. This definitely isn't the object that was stolen from me.'

'You can stick that apology right up your ass.' Tullock had taken his seat, legs crossed, foot tapping. 'Of course it's mine. You knew all along it was mine. Don't try to play coy now.'

To Lieutenant Suradi, I said, 'I'm very sorry. I heard a rumor that he had a similar object—an innocent mistake.'

I crossed to the window, held the glass ball out to Tullock—a deferential gesture. 'I admit it. You said it was yours and it is yours. You've proven it. Hope there are no hard feelings.'

Tullock was reaching for the ball, saying, 'Lieutenant? I want to press charges. This was a vicious attempt on Mr. Ford's part to create legal problems for me in my new home,' as I allowed the ball to roll off my fingers much too soon . . . saw Tullock bat at it, trying to stop the sphere's fall. . . watched the sphere hit the floor and explode into shards of glass and plume of heavy gray dust.

'You clumsy bastard!' Tullock was on his feet, hands balled into fists. For a moment, I thought he was going to take a swing at me. I would have liked that. He shouted, 'You can pay me for this right now. Pay me in cash!' But then he seemed to have a better idea. 'Wait—' He turned to the two Indonesian policemen. 'I want you to charge him with this, too. The intentional destruction of my private . . .' He allowed the sentence to trail off as he noticed that neither Suradi or Prajurit was listening to him. Both were too intent on the mess at Tullock's feet to hear.

Among the shards of glass was a substantial mound of grayish powder, fine as talcum.

'What's that?' Tullock asked—the voice of a confused adolescent.

I had backed against the open chest of drawers when the ball shattered, the bandanna once again in my hands. Now I stepped away from the chest of drawers, shrugged, and said, 'I wouldn't know. Like you said, Ray: it's not mine.'

Lieutenant Suradi was on one knee, studying the powder. Sumatra, apparently, was one of the few remaining places in the world where police officers actually touched and tasted unidentified chemicals. I wondered if it tasted offish.

Maybe it did. Suradi tasted his finger once more, then spat. He looked from Officer Prajurit to Raymond Tullock, then back to Officer Prajurit. Then he spoke in very fast Bahasa Indonesian; long, involved directive sentences that had the ring of discovery.

Tullock's confusion began to overwhelm him. 'What are they saying? What the hell's going on here!'

Prajurit had a portable radio out and was talking into it. He banged the radio a few times, trying to get it to work. It wouldn't work, so he used the telephone. Suradi stood, felt around for the handcuffs on his belt as he tried to take Tullock by the left wrist. Tullock yanked his wrist away. 'Goddamn it, what is that stuff?'

I watched his face very closely as I said, 'I think I heard them say the word 'heroin.' '

'Heroin?' The expression on his face reminded me of the night he had caught Hannah and me together: bug-eyed crazy . . . wild with rage . . . grotesque. He said, 'Do you know how they deal with that? What. . . what the punishment is for that?'

I wanted to ask, Have you ever seen Simpang Alas Prison? Instead, I gave him a private little wink. Said, 'You crossed the borders, Ray. That's always risky.'

What happened next was not pretty. Tullock lunged at me, screaming, 'He did this! Search him!' as Suradi tried to get a wrist handcuffed. Suradi interpreted the movement as an attempt to escape. He went to work on Tullock with a wooden baton. Suradi was a tough and determined little man, but Raymond Tullock had a wild tenacity that one associates with the truly insane ... or with those who have absolutely nothing left to lose. When Tullock went down for the fourth time, he lay on the linoleum, alternately cursing me and pleading for my help. We're both Americans, for God's sake.

I watched his face closely, enjoying it, as I said, 'Ray, you're only half right.'