‘Of course, of course.’
Burns slid the gun back under his arm.
‘I was just, uh, you see this chest is six hundred years old —,
Burns cut him off. ‘Fuck the chest. I don’t give a .shit, Moses stored the tablets in it. When am I movin’, gettin’ outa this fuckin’ scow? Away from them Chinks?’
‘A few more days.’
‘Shit!’
‘Just a few more days, Howard.’
‘Too long!’
‘It’s the passport, Howard. It’s going to be clean, no strings. You will never again have problems. This is all being done right for you.’
Burns leaned against the wall and breathed hard through his nose. He wiped his mouth with his hand, pinched his nose several times.
‘Too old for this kinda shit, anyhow,’ he said.
‘I know, I know.’
Burns looked up at him and said quickly. ‘It don’t mean I lost my touch. I mean, don’t go blowin’ smoke rings up your ass, you think I ain’t what I used to be.’
‘I didn’t say anything about that, Howard.’
‘I like things to happen quick. No bullshit, see? I’m on the run. You don’t get that, do you there, Victor?’
‘Of course.’
No, he didn’t understand. Victor had it made, all the aces. But him, be had spent years developing one cover, losing it, and now he was starting again dodging from rock to rock like a fox with the hounds snapping at his heels. DeLaroza had offered a chance, a chance to get out for good. But the closer it got, the more terrified he became. His insides were burning, his guts grinding with turmoil.
Burns sighed and leaned against the bulkhead, breathing deeply through his mouth. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
‘Easy, my friend. I promise you, you’re almost out.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I hope so. Hope so.’
‘Have you, uh. . . you aren’t taking. . . pills?’
Burn’s eyes jumped back and glared at DeLaroza.
‘So what. What if I did? Yeah, I had a little shot there, took a red, one stinkin’ red to get started this morning. Any of your business?’
‘Of course not, I —‘
‘You’re big time, ain’t you, Victor. Get all that nookie, that’s your reds, Vie, hunh? Right? I pop a red, get a little shot, you get your ashes hauled. Same dif, same dif.’
He rubbed a wrist with the palm of his hand, then shook the hand as though it might have fallen asleep.
‘Feelin’ better,’ he said. ‘I just got the willies, okay? I’m tellin’ you, Victor.’ He lowered his voice, stepping so close to DeLaroza the garlic on his breath almost brought tears to the big man’s eyes. ‘It’s them fuckin’ gooks is what it is. Could you, maybe tell ‘em to knock off that slow-motion shit while I’m here? It’s makin’ me whacko. I’m off the wall, see?’
‘I’ll have a talk with them. It is a discipline, Howard. A thing they must do each day. But I will tell them to do it in the forward cabins, not in front of you if it upsets you.’
‘It upsets me, okay. Upsets the shit outa me.’
DeLaroza nodded.
‘Y’see, I ain’t used to this. Cooped up here and all. Not used to it at all. Goddamn, I’d lose a few bucks, win a few bucks. Maybe catch the Jets, watchin’ Namath throw that ball. See what I mean, I gotta have some action, not sit here, listen’ to the fuckin’ water grow.’
DeLaroza moved away from him, sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the cabin and lit his cigar, which had gone out. Now was the time, he thought, but he had to handle the situation carefully. Perhaps it was too volatile. Perhaps Burns was too hyper.
‘You mind?’ Burns said.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘The cigar, do ya mind? It smells like a fuckin’ cowturd burnin’, Victor. Jesus, it’s close enough in here.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, okay. It’s I don’t like boats, see? All I need is to get seasick. Puke my guts out, that’s all I need.’
‘It’s just a lake.’
‘I don’t like boats!’ His voice rose again, near hysteria.
‘I understand, I understand.’
‘Jesus, I don’t like to be this way, y’know.’ Burns shook his head. ‘1 like everything easy, no hassle. Slick ice.
