“They let you go?” Harry said.
“It didn’t take too long.”
Catlett said, “Uh-huh. Harry, you understand what he saying? If he was talking to federal agents, how come he’s here talking to us?”
Chili said, “I didn’t have the key on me.”
Catlett said, “You didn’t have the key . . .” and let his voice trail off. “All right, why would they pick you up then, if you didn’t have the key?”
“They thought I opened the locker.”
“But you didn’t?”
“Ask the Bear, he saw it.”
“Is that right? You talk to him?”
“After. He wanted me to give him back the key,” Chili said, and watched Catlett take that and run with it.
“Sure, ’cause I told him, anything goes wrong, see if you can help out. Like take the key off your hands, case you get followed and picked up again they won’t find it on you.” Looking at Harry: “I told you it could happen, didn’t I? That’s why I said don’t you go out there, send your man here.” Looking at Chili again. “You know what I’m talking about. You experienced in shit where you have to keep your eyes open. Was I wrong? If you still have the key, what’s the problem? Wait for it to cool and try again. Only be more careful next time.”
Chili said, “That’s all you have to say?”
Catlett frowned in his sunglasses. “I don’t see what the problem is.”
“I told you, they were waiting for me.”
“You’re the type they go for, man. I can’t help it how you look.”
This guy was not only sure of himself, he was starting to get cocky, insulting even. Chili fingered the button holding his double-breasted jacket closed.
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He said, “I’ll make you a deal. If you can get out of here before I take my coat off, I won’t clean the floor with you, get your yachtclub outfit all messed up.”
Catlett shook his head, acting tired. He said, “Harry, you hear this?”
“Harry, stay out of it. This’s between me and him,” Chili said, undoing the button to let the jacket come open. He said to Catlett, “You have your choice.”
“You don’t know me,” Catlett said, his voice quiet now. “You only think you do.”
“I know if I wanted to,” Chili said, “I could take those shears away from you and cut your nuts off. You want to stay around, take a chance?”
“I think the party’s getting rough,” Catlett said. “Harry, this make any sense to you?”
“It will, when I tell him how they knew I was coming,” Chili said, holding the coat open now to slip it off his shoulders. “You want to add something to that? Ask me how I found out?”
Catlett shrugged, keeping whatever he felt about it to himself, behind his sunglasses. He said, “What’s the difference? I’m not gonna get into it with you,” and laid the shears on the table. “This kind of shit is not my style.” He moved to the door saying, “Whatever is, huh, Harry? But you still need all kinds of money, don’t you?” and walked out of the kitchen, into the hall.
Chili reached across the table to pick up the glass of wine, ice-cold on the tips of his fingers, and took a sip, Harry watching him.
“What it comes down to after all that, you didn’t get the money.”
Chili stood listening till he heard the front door close.
“There’s more to it, Harry.”
“But you still have the key?”
“There’s a lot more to it,” Chili said, pulling a chair out from the table.
Turning out of Karen’s drive, Catlett was busy handling all the stuff flashing in his head at once. He had to talk to the Bear, find out before he did anything else what happened at the airport, where the key was, how Chili Palmer knew he was informed on unless he was lying, telling Harry stories now, except the only good thing about it was Harry needed money more than he needed Chili Palmer, but Chili Palmer still had to be removed from the situation. There was something else flashing in his head, that suitcase . . . And Catlett had to crank the wheel, quick, waking up to the BMW turning in directly in front of him. The cars came side by side, the windows going down, the woman’s face in the BMW a bit higher than his. Catlett put his sunglasses up on his head. He smiled, seeing late sun reflected in her sunglasses, not smiling. He said, “Miss Flores, this is my pleasure. Harry Zimm might’ve mentioned my name to you, Bo Catlett?”
She kept looking, though her face didn’t change.
So he said, “Can I tell you I’ve always been one of your biggest fans?”
Her face still didn’t change as she said, “What’re you doing here?”
He said, “I was with Harry,” acting a little surprised on account of her tone. “We had a meeting.
Her face
The BMW was there and then it wasn’t and he was looking at shrubs. Man. Whatever the woman
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had heard about him couldn’t have been too good. Like Chili Palmer had been talking to her. Already today, with everything going on he had taken the time. Came back from the airport, checked out of his hotel . . . And there was that other thing that had flashed in his head to think about, the black nylon suitcase sitting in her front hall by the door.
The suitcase hadn’t been there before Chili Palmer came.
Checked out of the hotel and was moving in with Karen Flores. Sure, the one he wanted in the movie as the girl. Checked out in case the DEA people wanted to look him up again and came here to hide. Which presented new possibilities, didn’t it? Catlett drove down the hill thinking of
For a few moments he wasn’t aware of her standing in the doorway.
Karen watched him sitting alone at the table. Saw the bottle of Scotch, the garden shears, saw him raise his glass of wine and take a sip. He had a cigarette going too. She watched him draw on the cigarette and raise his head to exhale a thin stream of smoke. Karen the camera again watching him, this guy who had told her in a matter-of-fact way federal agents might pick him up and he might have to post bond. . . . She wanted to know what happened while Catlett was here. Where was Harry and why the garden shears? She had questions to ask and something amazing to tell him—Chili Palmer in his pinstripe suit, tough guy from Miami. Not a movie tough guy, a real one. She kept watching him with her camera eye wondering if, real or not, he could be acting. If
he was, he was awfully good.
“Not a worry in the world,” Karen said.
He looked over. “Hey, how you doing?”
“You really aren’t worried, are you?”
He said, “About what?”
And she had to smile because that was an act, the bland expression. But he wasn’t serious about it, he was smiling now and that seemed natural.
“Where’s Harry?”
“I think he’s in the bathroom. He didn’t say where he was going, but that’d be my guess.”
She said, “Catlett was here? . . .”
“Yeah, did you see him?”
“I almost ran into him, on his way out.”
“I think basically he’s all the way out now,” Chili said. “I explained the whole thing to Harry, told him if he ever saw the guy again he oughta have his brain looked at. Harry kept nodding, yeah, he understood, till I got to the part, Bones walking out with the locker key? He hasn’t said a word to me since.”
“He does that,” Karen said, “he pouts.”
