'Shut up,' I said over my shoulder. 'Kaz, I have to get back, unload this bozo, and meet Harding. I'll drop you at the hotel and be in touch as soon as I can.'
I started the jeep and gunned the engine as I drove down the narrow street. I was rewarded with a grunt and a groan from Dunbar as he was thrown back against his hard seat. Kaz was laughing as I pulled in front of the hotel and hit the brakes just enough to throw Dunbar around some more.
'Good luck, Billy,' Kaz said as the smile disappeared from his face. 'Stay alive and find Diana.'
He put his good hand out and we shook. There was a lump in my throat. I watched the emotion sweep over his face as he wished for me what he could never again have for himself. I nodded my head, and watched him walk up the steps to the hotel, whistling a tune.
'Can we get the hell out of here now?' Dunbar said. 'I need medical care in case you haven't noticed.'
How do people turn out so differently? Kaz had lost his family, his country, his true love, was scarred for life, almost killed, and could still wish me luck and whistle as he went up the steps. Dunbar lost his shoes and took a few lumps, had blubbered like a baby, and now was acting like one. Time he grew up.
Chapter Seventeen
'It's not just Walton.' Dunbar said in between bumps and potholes in the road as we drove to the hospital. 'I'm in hock to a couple of other guys too. About a thousand, all told. I had a string of bad luck. Kept making stupid bets to try to win it back.'
'And then you hit on this really good idea to break even? Selling morphine meant for the front?'
'Boyle, you should see all the stuff that comes through the supply depot. There's enough for an army!'
I was about to explain to Dunbar how that was exactly the point, but if he didn't understand now he never would. He was one of those guys who put their own problems, no matter how small, in front of everyone else's, no matter how large. That meant I had to make it a big problem in order to get his attention. I downshifted to take a corner, and looked around for a place to pull over. We were on the outskirts of the city where palm trees lined the road and peddlers pulling donkeys plodded along on the shady side of the street.
'Do you want me to shoot you right now, Dunbar, or would you rather wait for the firing squad?' I had to turn my head and yell at Dunbar, to be heard over the sound of the engine and tires in the open jeep.
'That's not funny, Boyle,' Dunbar said. He spoke in gasps, as if talking emptied his lungs of air. Broken rib, maybe a couple.
'I think it's hilarious. Nice Harvard boy gets mixed up with gambling and drugs, ruins promising career, disgraces his family. Just the story to amuse an Irish kid from Southie.'
'You can't prove a thing, anyway.'
'You don't actually trust that rat Willoughby, do you? How do you think I got to you so fast?'
'Jesus,' he said, again in that whining, airless voice. 'I thought… What am I supposed to do?'
'I couldn't care less. Why should I help you figure that out? What can you do for me anyway, give me free poker lessons?'
'Will you help me if I help you?'
That's what I wanted to hear. But I shrugged. As if I were indifferent.
'Maybe you wandered into the wrong part of town and I happened by at the right time. Or not. It all depends on what you can tell me.'
'What about Willoughby?'
'Leave him to me.'
'Aw, Christ. What do you want to know?'
'Anything about drug thefts, Vichy officers coming by the hospital, anything suspicious, or even just odd.'
'This was the first time I took anything, honest…'
'I'm talking about penicillin, the wonder drug, remember? Not your pathetic little pilfering. A real heist. Did you see anybody casing the joint before Casselli got killed? Any other drugs gone missing?'
'Oh. No. I was pretty busy getting things organized. I picked the location for the medical supplies when we first got here, then left it to Casselli.'
'So you walked the grounds and chose that spot by yourself?'
'Why do you ask?'
That did it. I pulled the jeep over to the side of the road. We h cleared the city and they hadn't bothered to plant nice rows of shad palms out here. Just sand and a gravelly gully leading to more sand,^ rocks, and boulders. No Frenchies, donkeys or Arabs. I took my. 45 out of the holster and ran a round into the chamber. That sound always had a nice, threatening ring to it, a metallic snick click that meant business. I held it in my left hand, pointing at Dunbar.
'Now listen up, you worthless piece of dog meat. This isn't a social conversation. I ask, you answer. If you answer right, maybe I'll save your bacon. Piss me off again and I'll shoot you and leave you for the Arabs to strip.'
'You wouldn't…'
I clicked the hammer back. Another snick.
'Okay, okay, okay!' He put his hands up in cross in front of his face, palms toward me. I had found a small- time drug dealer once, with holes in both palms and another where his left eye had been. He was flat on his back, arms outstretched, a Jesus on the pavement. Funny the things you think about at the oddest times. I waited for Dunbar to drop his hands and lowered the. 45, but kept it pointed in his general direction and waved it as an invitation for him to keep talking.
'Casselli was with me when we walked the grounds. The place used to be a military base but was closed down. There was plenty of room, we just needed to decide what went where.'
'Why did you put the Medical Supply Depot in a separate building?'
'Casselli thought it would be better for the patients, so the loading and unloading wouldn't disturb them.'
'So it was Casselli's idea, not yours?'
'Well, yeah, I guess so, now that you mention it.'
Any sergeant worth his salt knew how to 'suggest' things so an officer thought it was his idea. Casselli was no different. It was no more Dunbar's idea than it was Ike's.
'How long did you know Casselli?'
'He joined up with us about three months ago, in England, after our first supply sergeant deserted.'
'What? Deserted? In England? Where the hell did he go?'
'No one knows. Captain Morgan saw him leave in a jeep one night, after lights out, and he never came back. He must've had someplace to hide out.'
'Where were you based again?'
'Outside of Blackpool, on the coast. It had a port and we got a lot of our supplies right from the Liberty Ships that docked there. Pretty big operation.'
It's amazing how chatty a loaded. 45 automatic can make a guy, especially one who's just been rolled in an Arab bazaar. I eased the hammer down and holstered the piece. So Casselli was the second supply sergeant to lose the job, one way or the other. I wondered where the first guy was. I wondered where they'd found his jeep. I wondered what Gloria Morgan was doing out after lights out, and who she was doing it with.
'Okay, let's get you taken care of.'
'Are you going to report me?'
'No.'
'Thanks, Boyle, I really owe you.'
I pulled back onto the road and didn't say you're welcome. I only promised not to report him. If he wanted to feel thankful about that, he didn't have much of an imagination. I did.
Ten minutes later Gloria Morgan herself was comforting poor Doctor Dunbar as Rita taped his chest.
