to Kator.
Then they gave him the passport, unlocked the door, and walked to the elevators.
“You got half a minute,” Jesso said when he leaned across the desk in the lobby The room clerk handed the letter across as if it were soiled, and Jesso slipped it into his pocket.
“And now one final word with you, my dear Jesso.” Kator noticed the look on Jesso’s face and smiled. He had a smile like winter coming. “We will stay in the lobby, dear Jesso, in plain sight of everyone.”
They walked to the large windows that looked out to the Kirchenalle and sat down on a wide couch, like travel companions, or like men who had time to kill.
“You realize, Jesso, there are ways of checking the accuracy of your information.”
“So?”
“Simply this. The risk in accepting your information is mine, and while I have been patient, even docile with you, I warn you that I am a different man when I run a risk. Should the information you gave me prove to be incorrect, should you have lied to me, Jesso, I promise you an unpleasant end. No matter where you may be, Jesso, an unpleasant end.” Kator paused and studied his frail-looking hands. “Would you care to correct the information you gave me?”
“You got the right dope, Kator.”
“I am glad to hear this. And now, the matter of your payment.” Kator gave Jesso an envelope. It wasn’t sealed. When Jesso reached for it, the envelope dropped out of Kator’s hand. So that’s why Jesso doubled over, reaching for the envelope, but then he stayed that way and didn’t come back up. Right in the lobby, on the couch, facing the window.
Kator had been very good. The hard edge of his hand made the slightest arch and then snapped fast against the base of Jesso’s skull. It was the kind of punch that makes the victim feel he knows everything that’s going on. He knows the impact, the fact that he can’t move, but any minute now he will. Except no air. There was no air. But that passed too, because without transition Jesso blacked out.
Chapter Nine
It went so smoothly after that that Jesso himself would have been proud of it. But Jesso wasn’t doing a thing. Kator was. He asked a bellhop to stand by and wave a handkerchief in the fainted man’s face and then sent Bean Pole to the phone, because an ambulance was just the thing for a case like this. That ambulance took no time at all. It was a miracle the way that ambulance showed up. One trench coat grabbed Jesso by the legs, the bellhop grabbed his arms, and then they hoisted the body into the ambulance, ready and waiting, because the driver had jumped out, white coat and all, and swung the doors wide in the back. Kator had left before the ambulance took off. Once he had given an order, he rarely bothered with details.
The driver drove and the trench coat sat in back, smoking a cigarette. He must have thought he looked sassy as all hell with the wide coat, the beret, and the cigarette hanging down out of one corner of his mouth.
The first thing Jesso knew was smoke. It drifted past his nose and Jesso wanted a cigarette. The thought was strong but it didn’t last. There was the sore neck and a blue pain below his heart. Kator must have operated like a fiend to pull this off.
It took a while of figuring, but then it all came out simple enough. There was Trench Coat, and this was an ambulance and just before that there was an envelope dropping out of Kator’s hand, clumsy as could be, and then the rest not so clumsy. And there wasn’t any five hundred in that envelope and this wasn’t really an ambulance. But Trench Coat, he was real enough. Perhaps he’d heard something, a difference in breathing. Couldn’t be. The ambulance was clattering across a street of cobblestones, and Trench Coat, crawling back where Jesso was, held himself steady with both hands. Then he leaned over Jesso to make sure of the damage. Jesso could smell the smoke again. In nothing flat the damage was one agonizing flood of pain spreading from the groin, a wicked burn where the cigarette had splashed against the nose, and one lip badly cut. Then Jesso made sure. Kator himself would have been proud of the way that hand sliced down. Trench Coat stretched out, trembled, and lay still. The ambulance was bumping badly and the driver drove.
He must have known where he was going. The ride got smooth as they crossed a bridge over the Elbe and then they turned and twisted where steep houses seemed to nod across the narrow streets. After a while the ambulance picked up speed and the tires started to sing. At first Jesso didn’t realize it was a highway. He watched the tree tops shoot away to the rear, where they appeared and disappeared in the small window at the back. After a while, keeping a cautious stoop, he looked and saw the long ribbon on the black-top road. There were apple trees along both sides.
Then it started to bump again and the trees got thicker. When the car slowed down and stopped, Jesso was ready.
The driver wore an orderly’s uniform but he looked more like a butcher. He had the rear door open, and then he almost stumbled, he was that confused.
“Reach,” said Jesso, but the butcher didn’t understand English. Or perhaps he was stupid. One hand came up chest-high, groped for the gun there, so Jesso shot him in the shoulder. The man spun and dropped.
There was a penetrating odor of wet pine in the air and Jesso breathed it in deeply They had parked off the road, where the dark-green trees came together in a thick curtain. The soil looked sandy white, soft underfoot, and not too far away there was an open space where stone and sand made a shallow dip. Jesso noticed that the butcher had brought a shovel along. It was leaning against the side of the ambulance, ready and waiting.
Then Jesso waited. The guy in the car hadn’t come around yet and the butcher was slowly rolling himself over the sandy ground. He had dropped his gun on the way, but only his shoulder interested him. Each time he rolled over he cringed with pain, but he kept rolling back and forth just the same. He was stupid, all right.
It had been close quarters in the bumping ambulance, so Jesso straightened his new shirt, new tie, new suit, and draped the big trench coat so it wouldn’t bunch up in the back. He hadn’t bothered with the beret. Then Jesso lit a cigarette and waited.
After a while the guy with the shot-up shoulder stopped rolling around and sat up. There was a big red stain on his orderly’s uniform and it looked medical as hell. Jesso walked over to him and said, “How’s the arm?” But the guy didn’t understand, so Jesso waited for the other one.
When he came around he sat up with a start, but right away he lay down again. He lay that way for a while. Then Jesso didn’t want to wait any longer.
“Hey, you.” He prodded the man’s foot. “Understand English?”
The man got up and raked his long hair back over his head.
“Come on out.”
He did understand English, because he crawled out of the ambulance. He had also seen a lot of American movies, because he raised his hands over his head and waited to be shot in the belly.
“Put your hands down. Your underwear don’t scare me.”
The man lowered his hands and plucked at his shorts.
“What’s your name?”
“Fritz.”
“I should have known. And the thinker over there? What’s his name?”
“Hans.”
“Of course, what else? Now tell Hans to sit over there by the tree.”
Fritz told Hans and then they waited for Jesso’s next word.
There was a long, webbed strap on the bed in the ambulance. Jesso took it off, threw it at Fritz, and told him to tie up Hans. After that was done he waved for Fritz to come back.
“Now I want some answers. Where is Kator?”
“Ich versteche nicht”
“Where’s Kator?”
“I understand not.”
“Look Fritz, you’re getting me mad.” He was going to say more when Fritz kicked up his foot and a spray of sand hit Jesso in the face. Fritz didn’t follow it up because Jesso was still holding the gun, but there was no shot.
