“His name wouldn’t mean nothin’ to you. All you need to know right now is that he’s got ability we’ll need at that end of the line, an’ for a bonus he can shoot the left teat off a female mosquito at a hundred yards.”
“I’d need to know considerably more about him than that.” Erikson’s tone was icy.
“He’ll tell you himself when I introduce you.” Slater’s voice was just as cold. ”
“We don’t have a deal yet. As you just pointed out. But if and when we do, there’ll be no cash thrown around. We’ll get you out of here, and we’ll take care of some of the arrangements, but there’s no intention of sending good money after bad.”
“You chintzy, chicken-livered nickel-nursers!” Slater’s voice complained bitterly. “All right, then. All the more reason you got to take my man. This job’s gonna take cash, an’ he’ll produce it.”
“Speaking of cash, how much did you say was in the hijack?” The question was slipped in smoothly.
“Who adds up bills when they’re runnin'?” Slater’s tone was suspicious. “Pancho Valdez said the take would be two million U.S., an’ he was high enough up in the treasury department there to know.”
“More than twice that was sent down there.”
There was a soft whistle. ”
“Plus two hundred thousand.”
“Maybe Pancho was figurin’ on givin’ us a fast count,” Slater suggested. “All I know is that whatever was there is still there.”
“Did you open a sack after the hijack?”
“Sure we did.”
“What did you find?”
“Bundles of thousand-dollar bills wrapped in green bands.”
“You didn’t take even a few samples?”
“Where were we gonna spend it? It was supposed to be a temporary cache, but a week later the whole face of nature changed down there, an’ all I wanted was out. Then while I was plannin’ on how I was goin’ back I got grabbed on the phony deal that landed me in Statesville.”
“Let me ask you why—”
Slater’s voice overrode Erikson’s. “What’s all the futzin’ around about? You know I was in on the heist. You know how much cash was sent down there. You know it’s never been found or the bills would’ve been traced. Are you gonna go for this thing or aren’t you?”
“You’re sure nobody saw you hide the cash?”
“Nobody left alive.” Slater said it sullenly. “Don’t bug me, man. I’m tired of sittin’ in this stinkin’ hole. I wanna know what you’re gonna do. Just kind of keep it in mind you’re not the only fish in the ocean.”
“Just the only fish that can spring the locks on this place for you.” There was a short silence. “In that climate paper money could have rotted away in the length of time you’ve been tucked away here. I’d hate to sweat the action and find pulp.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not.”
“Why should you worry when you’re trading your share for life on the outside?” For the first time there was an edge in Erikson’s voice.
“That’s right,” Slater agreed. His tone was unexpectedly jovial. “But don’t worry about it. The cash is okay.” His voice changed. “You don’t sound like you did the last time you were here. Don’t tell me the wheels turned you down on the project an’ you’re thinkin’ of makin’ the play yourself?”
“What makes you say that?”
“The way you’re flingin’ around expense money.” Slater’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“Let’s just say that everything is being left to me to decide.” Again there was a brief silence. “And I’ve decided. We’ll set it up for five men.”
“What the hell! Four can handle it.”
“No. We’ll use five. You and your pro with the cash. Me and a man I’ll choose. Plus a boat operator to get us out.”
“Have it your way. When do you spring me?”
“It will take a while to set it up. In the meantime, give me a lead and I’ll contact this buddy of yours for you.”
“Quickest way I know to run him underground,” Slater countered. “I’ll have a pal put out a flag for him. Sometimes he don’t surface for a good long time. Say, hadn’t you better open up that briefcase an’ make out like you’re doin’ a little lawyerin'?”
“Good idea.”
There was the sound of a clasp snapping open and then the rustle-rattle of paper. A period of silence followed before Erikson’s voice was heard again. “That’s it for now, Slater,” he said. “You’ll hear from us.”
There was a commingled shuffling of feet followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. “Let’s see those hands, Slater!” a guard’s voice barked. There was the slam of metal as a barred gate opened and closed. I pictured the detention room and Slater waiting between two locked doors for the guard to let him back into the cell block.
Then the sound died out.
Slater leaned forward and switched off the tape recorder.
“Where was the microphone?” I asked him.
“It was a minimike under my shirt collar.”
“You didn’t trust Erikson?”
“Did I have to give myself any the worst of it? Some of our talks were more complicated. I wanted to listen to him again before I decided he was the one.”
“He seems to think he was the only one.”
“That’s Erikson.”
“How could you get even a miniature recorder inside?”
“A few dollars spread around’ll get you most anything.”
“What about this Erikson? Who are these people both of you refer to? The syndicate?”
“The people who put me on the street.”
Evidently that was all I was going to hear on that subject. “Why is he ex-Navy?”
“Because he likes money. An’ when we split the take from this job, he can buy his own navy.”
The bravado was typical of Slater. I remembered. “You might as well get him up here,” I said. I didn’t see how it could do any harm to listen.
Slater went to the phone and had the bar paged again. “Room 304, Karl.” He chuckled. “Straight goods this time.”
“Introduce me as Earl Drake,” I said when he hung up.
Slater nodded. Neither of us said anything until there was a knock at the door. Slater opened it. “Karl-with- a-K Erikson, Earl Drake”—Slater made the introduction as the Viking entered the room.
Erikson and I shook hands. His hand was twice the size of mine. He had pale blue eyes, and they were itemizing me right down to the corns on my feet. Then the icy-looking blue eyes swung to Slater. “Have you told him?”
“No details.”
The eyes returned to me. “Are you aboard?”
So there it was. “If I have no reservations about where the Spanish is going to be spoken.”
“Cuba.”
“Cuba? There’s a big money touch in
“Big,” Slater affirmed. “Havana.”
Erikson began to speak in the manner of a man who has given a lot of thought to his subject. “Six weeks before Castro made his breakout from the Sierra Maestras, a section of the U.S. State Department sent cash to Batista. The money disappeared in the backlash of the revolutionary overthrow. With Castro in the saddle, the U.S. had no hope of recovery even if the State Department or the CIA could find out where it went. In fact, State officially disclaimed that any cash had ever been sent to Batista. Nobody wanted to be pinned with the donkey’s tail of backing a loser. Eventually the money was written off.”
