I asked if he was retiring. He just said that he had enough money. To live well for the rest of his days. To get out of the country. If he had to.' Maurensig shook the tears out of his eyes. Nimmo guessed that the smoke inside his mouth had done that. He said something about how the John Laws might make it difficult for him to stick around. That he'd have to get himself a new ID. Shit like that. Because lots of people were gonna come looking for him.'
Christ's ass and balls,' said Rosselli. Looks like you were right, Jimmy. I must say I had my doubts. But not any more. The crazy fucker's really planning to do it, isn't he?'
Yeah, but where?' said Nimmo.
Could be here. Could be New York. According to your schedule, our friend is supposed to fly to New York on January second. And stay there a coupla days.'
Tell me, Colt,' asked Nimmo. Could he shoot a man from boat to shore at a distance of, say, two or three hundred yards?'
Maurensig spat blood. In his pain he had bitten his tongue and cheek quite badly. He could shoot almost any damn thing, mister. Chappo Flat Range at Camp Pendleton. Jefferson fired two-three-six. Out of a possible two-fifty. Highest score of any enlisted man in the First Marines. Best man with a rifle I ever saw. Man, with his head in a bag he's still Davy fucking Crockett. Look, mister, that's all I know. Honest. You've got to believe me.'
That's for damn sure,' chuckled Mothballs. Less you want to take up smoking again.'
Look. I knew him, okay. But he wasn't a friend. His kind doesn't make friends. If I'm not telling you much, it's because I don't know much. Not since we left the army.'
Nimmo lit another cigarette which Maurensig regarded as Winston Smith might have regarded a rat in Room 101. The worst thing in the world. You said New York. Have you any idea where in New York?'
No, I honestly don't.'
Nimmo regarded the tiny fireball at the end of his cigarette with detachment. Are you sure about that?' Now he blew on the end with sadistic meaning.
Honest mister,' pleaded Maurensig.
Nimmo grabbed the man's nostrils once more, hauled them towards his tear-stained eyes, and then held the cigarette about an inch away from the exposed mollusc, grey with numerous livid red spots, that was Maurensig's branded tongue. I don't think that's true,' yelled Nimmo.
There's a piece of paper,' screamed Maurensig. Nimmo let him go. Maurensig shook his head and added, It's just some places, he recommended me to go, if ever I was in New York. Places he used to go himself. That's all.'
Where is this piece of-'
In the shop, under the counter, there's an American guide. It's in there.'
Nimmo went back into the shop and, under the counter, next to a twelve-gauge semi-automatic shotgun, was a whole pile of books. The American guide was sandwiched between Grant Moves South and A Stillness at Appomattox, both by Bruce Catton. In the New York City section, he found a folded sheet of paper with the names and addresses of some night-clubs and restaurants, most of which he knew himself. Chez Joie up on Broadway, west of High Bridge, was a late-night joint where the waitresses wore not very much and, if you paid them, even less when they took you home. A little further south, also on Broadway, the Prelude was a pre-prandial cocktail bar that was favoured by a better class of B-girl. Nimmo had not heard of La Barraca on West 51st, but he knew Basin Street East on 48th Street, and the Five Spot on Cooper Square, as good places for jazz. Liborio, on 8th, was the west side's smartest restaurant, the kind of place where you took a girl to satisfy your interest in the finer things in life, such as her silk underwear. Nimmo thought there was nothing much wrong with Tom Jefferson's taste, since it seemed to coincide pretty much with his own.
Back in the smithing shop, Nimmo grabbed Maurensig by the nose. This better be according to Hoyle, or I'll use your crotch as my ashtray. You understand me, fat boy?'
It's on the level,' insisted Maurensig. I swear.'
Sunshine? Keep an eye on him. Johnny? Mothballs?' Nimmo jerked his head toward the shop. We need to huddle.'
Back out front, he said, I don't know if we kill this guy, or not. Thing is, if we leave him alive, then maybe he'll warn Jefferson.'
He said he didn't know how to contact Jefferson,' offered Mothballs. And I believed him.'
A phone works two ways, Mothballs. Maybe Jefferson'll contact him again, and then he'll be warned. What I can't figure is if it's best that Jefferson knows we're after him, or not. If he does know it, then maybe he'll figure to call off the hit on Kennedy. On the other hand he may not stand down, just get more careful. Right now, the one thing we've got going for us is that he doesn't know we know what he's planning, and that we're on his trail. So if the outfit sends some people in New York to stake out the places on this list that Maurensig gave me, not to mention the New York Public Library, then maybe he'll show up. In which case they'll spot him.'
I don't know that they've ever seen the inside of the New York Public Library,' said Rosselli, thinking out loud. But the Gambino family can take care of things for us in New York.'
But if he's spooked,' said Nimmo, he'll stay away from these places like they were plague pits. Maybe even leave New York altogether. We might never catch up with him.'
I don't like it when someone takes me for an idiot,' said Rosselli. As I see it, getting Jefferson is paramount. Everything else comes after that. Nothing should jeopardise that. Putting him off doesn't do it for me, and I don't think it'll work for Momo. Tom Jefferson is a dead man breathing air.' He jerked his thumb in the direction of the smithing shop. And so is he, if he stands a chance of getting in the way of making that happen.'
Nimmo shrugged. Who's going to do it?'
This is my territory,' said Mothballs. Let me handle it. S'not a problem. 'Bout twenty minutes' drive west of here is Loxahatchee. It's a refuge, if you're the national wildlife, but it ain't much of a sanctuary if you drink beer and watch TV. Place is two hundred square miles of sawgrass marshland. Fuckin snakes and alligators everywhere. Not a good place to be without independent transportation. A man might never find his way out of there. Specially if an alligator found him first. Me and Sunshine'll stick him in the trunk and drive him out there after dark, pop one in his hat, and leave him for the critters. You won't have to worry about Colt Maurensig no more.'
Thanks a lot, Mothballs,' said Rosselli.
Not a problem. It's not just cash we kill, y'know?' Mothballs opened his William Bendix reject face and laughed uproariously at his own joke. Soon as the job's done we'll get to watching Kennedy's ass for you. From what Lawford's told me, it might make interesting viewing. Hell, I voted for that boy and I wouldn't like to see anything happen to him. Even if he is the biggest tail-chaser since Errol Flynn played Don Juan.'
So you voted for him. You are one of the nought point one per cent.'
Come again?'
I worked it out. Sixty-eight million Americans voted. Kennedy won by one hundred and twelve thousand. That's point one per cent of the vote.' Nimmo grinned. Nothing wrong with my fucking math pal.'
Chapter 16
A Man's Word
When Alex Goldman arrived at Tom's riverside apartment it was the first time the two men had seen each other since Mary Jefferson's death. Edith was out, having her hair done at the Beacon Beauty Salon on Broadway, for which Tom was glad. He and Goldman had a lot to talk about. Tom poured them both a Scotch and waited for Alex to speak first. Goldman looked around at the large and well-appointed apartment with its high ceilings and fine view of the river, and then toasted him silently.
Nice place.'
Tom nodded. Of course. It's the first time you've been here.'
Very classy. Rented?'
Of course.'
Very different from your place in Miami.'
Lots of things are different from Miami.'
Goldman sipped his drink silently, and fumbled awkwardly for his pipe.
Did you have to kill her, Alex?'
What did you think I was going to do?'
You said you would take care of her. I didn't figure that meant you were going to kill her.'
