back, his left hand palm up over his eyes and his right hand holding a glass full of Scotch.
Parker left him there for a minute, went out to the terrace, and rifted Menlo’s pockets. He found the room key, and went to the bedroom. “Harrow,” he said. “Get up from there. I’m going to want privacy when I talk to your daughter. You take off for a while.”
Harrow sat up. He looked ashen, but he was busy gathering shreds of dignity around him. “That’s not the proper tone of voice.”
“Come on, I’ve got an elevator waiting.”
“You’ve got an elevator waiting?” Harrow seemed bemused by the idea. He got to his feet, took the mourner up from the bed, and put it in a closet and locked the closet door, then pocketed the key and followed Parker out of the suite.
The elevator was still there, the operator patient. Parker slipped the two tens into the operator’s hand and said. “This gentleman is going all the way down to the lobby. I’m getting off at seven.”
“Yes, sir.”
They were silent on the way down. Parker got off at the seventh floor, found room 706, and unlocked the door. The suitcase was in plain sight, in the closet, the same one they’d bought to carry the money in originally. It was locked, but a suitcase lock can be picked with a piece of spaghetti. Parker opened it, saw that it was still full of bills, and closed it again. He went out, located the emergency staircase, and went down to his room on the fifth floor. He stashed the suitcase, went back up to the seventh floor, and rang for the elevator.
It was the same one that had taken him down, and the operator smiled as he got aboard. They were old friends now; twenty dollars old. On the way up, the operator asked if he had any idea about a horse at Hialeah that could make the twenty grow. Parker told him that wasn’t his sport.
He went back into suite D, this time locking the door, and returning the key to room 706 to Menlo’s pocket. Then he sat down.
Bett knocked at the door ten minutes later. He went over and opened it, and she stared at him. “Come on in, Bett,” he said.
She came in, not saying anything, just staring at him. She was wearing pink slacks and a white shirt and Japanese sandals.
“Come over here, Bett.” He took her elbow and guided her through the sitting-room and on to the terrace. He pointed.
She looked. She whispered, “Menlo.”
“How was he, Bett? In the rack, I mean.”
“You killed him,” she said in a whisper.
“Better than that. Menlo killed himself. He did a better job than he did on me.”
“He swore you were dead. He described how he did it. How could he get the statue away from you if you weren’t dead?”
Parker went back into the sitting-room, and she followed him. “You want a drink, Bett?”
“Please.”
“You know where the bar is. I want bourbon.”
She hesitated, and then went over and got the drinks. She brought him his bourbon and he took a sip. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“You like the strong ones,” he said. “That’s the way it is, isn’t it? You don’t care what they look like, or what they smell like, or if they’re any good in the rack or not. You just want the strong ones. Menlo was going to double- cross me, so that made him strong and you took him into your bed in Washington. Then he came down here and told you how he’d really killed Parker, and that made him the strongest of all. You have a good night last night, Bett?”
“Screw you,” she said.
He finished the bourbon and put the glass down. “I’m leaving tonight,” he said, “and after that we’re finished. You can’t be trusted. You like to watch violence too much. But we’ve got hours yet before I take off.”
“How did you do it, Parker? Chuck, how did you do it?” she whispered.
“Menlo’s dead,” he said, “and I’m alive. I’ve got the dough he tried to take off with. I delivered the mourner to your father. And I got the gun from him. Yeah, I got the gun. So who’s the strongest now, Bett?”
He could feel it coursing through him, like electricity, strong enough to blot the twinges in his side, to make him forget any stiffness or soreness in his body. The job was over, and it was always like this after a job. A satyr, inexhaustible and insatiable. He was twelve feet tall.
He walked towards the bedroom. “This way, Bett,” he said. “We’ve got five or six hours yet.”
She followed him through the doorway, and shut the door behind her.
5
KAPOR himself answered the door. It was colder than ever in Washington, after having been in Florida for a few days. Parker came in, carrying the suitcase, and set it down on the parquet floor. He unbuttoned his topcoat and Kapor said, “I take it you were successful.”
“In the suitcase there. There was a hundred and twenty dollars less than a hundred grand when I got to it. There’s sixty dollars less than fifty grand in that suitcase.”
“I will accept your book-keeping,” Kapor replied. “May I offer you a drink?”
“Just give me the address where you’ve got my partner.”
