The boat limped in to shore, bumping against the dock beside the boathouses. Grofield came out on the dock and Parker tossed him a line and Grofield made the line fast.
Parker climbed out of the boat, tossing two light plastic suitcases ahead of him, and said, ‘What’s gone wrong?’
Grofield waved his hands, with the guns in them. ‘They know about it, don’t ask me how. I got rid of the Feds on my back, and then two of Baron’s men put the arm on me. They knew my name, they acted as though they knew everything. I shot my way out of it, but I got hit a few times.’ He was proud of the offhand way he had said that, and at the same time knew that with Parker there was no other way he could have said it. In fact, it would have been better to say nothing at all, but that cool he couldn’t be.
Parker looked away towards the casino. ‘The place is burning. Salsa’s working.’
‘What time is it?’
Parker checked his watch. ‘Twenty after.’
‘He should be down here by now with the first load.’
That was the way it was supposed to work. Salsa would fire the main buildings, then in the confusion break into the cashier’s cage in the casino, grab as much cash as he could carry, and come down to meet the rest at the boat. Then all of them but Ross would go back to finish cleaning the place out. By twenty after Salsa should already be here.
Parker said, ‘We better go look for him.’
Grofield was looking towards the boat. ‘Where’s Ross?’
‘Dead.’ Parker nodded towards the three Grofield had taken care of. ‘They opened up too early, before we docked. They got Ross right away, because he was up at the wheel.’
‘It’s a lemon, Parker, a big fat lemon.’
‘Let’s go look.’
They each picked up one of the plastic suitcases, empty now and ready to carry money. Grofield replaced his guns with two more fully loaded ones from the beach defenders, and then he and Parker walked up the path towards the main building.
Now it did look like the last days of Pompeii. The main building and the dormitory and the cockpit were all ablaze. Men and women were running around in circles, shouting and screaming; there was a crush of them down on the piers, trying to get off the island. Just beyond the piers, two yachts, turning to get away, had rammed into one another and stuck together, and now wallowed in a death-grip, both of them burning. Firelight bloodied the dark water around the island and the boats, picking out the bobbing heads of people swimming. An overturned dinghy floated like a comic afterthought, with several people in the water clinging to it.
Because it had so few windows, the casino was burning less furiously than the other two buildings. The cockpit was one yellow-red flame, and the dormitory looked unreal: a hollow black hulk with flames shooting from every window.
No one paid any attention to Grofield and Parker. A musician ran by, wild-eyed, his violin tucked up under his arm like a precious message. A guy Grofield recognized as the stickman from the roulette table rushed past in the opposite direction, still toting his rake.
Behind the main building the flames had leaped from the cockpit to the jungle itself. Crackling louder, the fire swept up the hill towards the two storage sheds, engulfing them, and then on towards the power plant.
Parker went into the casino first, and Grofield followed him. The main hallway was not yet burning, but flames were gobbling up the innards of the dining room, tables and chairs and draperies and carpeting and all; the dining- room doorway glared like the gateway to Hell. To the right, fire flickered uncertainly in the casino. With no windows, brick and plaster walls, widely spaced furniture, the flames had trouble in here making headway.
Still, the casino was deserted, and the gate in the cashier’s cage gaped open. Parker and Grofield hurried in there and Parker began to yank open drawers. ‘It’s here,’ he said.
There were a few bills scattered on the floor, and the main drawers were not entirely full, so at least one other person had done a little looting on the way out. But he’d left more than he’d taken, so it was all right. Parker and Grofield opened their suitcases on the counter and began transferring the money.
The lights flickered, and then flickered again. Parker took a flashlight from his pocket, and the lights went out for good. Parker switched the light on, and they went on filling the suitcases. Between the flashlight and the firelight they could see well enough.
When the hidden panel in the far wall opened and the bulky guy came running into the room, came catapulting in as though he’d just raced down a long steep hill, Grofield looked up and at first saw that the form looked familiar and second realized who it was. Softly, he said, ‘Parker,’ and when he felt Parker look over, he nodded towards the guy, now coming to a stop in the middle of the room, looking around crazily, a gun waving in his right fist.
Parker looked, and called, ‘Heenan!’
Heenan hadn’t seen them till then. Now he did see them, and recognized them. ‘It wasn’t me!’ he shouted, and started pulling the trigger, bullets spraying into the wall high above Grofield’s head.
Grofield rested his right elbow on the suitcase and emptied a borrowed gun into the leaping silhouette in front of the flames. Beside him, he could see Parker doing the same. Between them they must have fired ten times.
In the sudden silence after all the shooting, Parker said, ‘I say we find Salsa upstairs.’
They had all the cash from down here anyway. Grofield shut the suitcases, leaving the full one on the floor and carrying the other one. Ahead of him, Parker stooped and took the automatic from Heenan’s fist, and then the two of them went through the open panel and up the stairs to the lightless second floor.
6
BARON crouched in the darkness under his desk, in the kneehole, waiting for whatever would happen next. He knew now that this stage of his life was done, no matter what. The gambling island of Cockaigne was destroyed. Even if he should manage to rebuild, from where would the customers come, now that this debacle had occurred? Beyond that, the Russians and the Cubans, as single-minded and dull-witted as the majority of men everywhere,
