The Long escape Page 11

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  I

  at nic in Antofagasta might not be enougli to persuade the police to open a grave in Melipilla, hut it was enough for me.

  The Christian charity I had feU imtil tlien toward the Ruano family was all gone. They might yet hump me off. If they did, I wanted somebody to know all the facts so that steps could be taken afterward to do something about it. I thought of going to my pal Lee in Valparaiso, but that meant putting him officially on notice of a possible perjtiry before a United States consular official. I wasn't ready for that yet. The only other person I could trust was Idaho Farrell.

  As soon as I got into Santiago, I dropped my bag off at the hotel and went down to the bank. A sniffy young fellow in the foreign exchange department told me that Annie didn't work there any more.

  "Where does she work?"

  "I'm sure I couldn't say. She was discharged yesterday."

  "Why?"

  "I'm sure I couldn't say."

  "Where can I get her address?"

  "The personnel department might give it to you. I couldn't say."

  The personnel department didn't want to say, either at first. They wouldn't tell me why Idaho had been

  bounced, even -when I pointed out that I had twenty-five hundred dollars worth of pesos in their pockets which I could easily move somewhere else, but they finally gave me her address.

  It was a clean little pension on the east side of town, near the river. When I got there, she was sitting in a hammock in the patio reading a book. Her eyes were red and puffy.

  I said, "What happened?"

  She went boo-hoo-hooo. I sat down in the hammock and put my arms around her. I would rather have been in a hammock with her under different circumstances, but even then it was no chore. She wept into my collar for a while before it came out.

  "Th-they fired me. Maria Teresa must have told her father that she saw me with you, because Fito came to the bank and asked the m-manager about me and the manager found out I had been asking about the Ruano accounts and I h-had to t-tell h-him . . ."

  She choked on it.

  "I'm sorry, Idaho. It was my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to do it."

  "I don't care. It's just that I worked for the d-damn bank so long and now they say I violated my contract. They won't pay my passage home and I can't get another j-job without a r-recommendation, and—and . . ."

  She blubbered.

  "You don't have to worry," I said. "It's my fault. I'll make up w hat you lost."

  She finally quieted down, took her head off my shoulder, and wiped her nose. It—her nose—was pretty siiiny by tiien, but she was wearing a sweater that would have kept anybody in his right mind from looking at her face anyway, I got a brilliant idea.

  It wasn't entirely original. I had heard the story of the girl in the; States who cashed forged checks at every bank in the country and got away with it for weeks because her dress was cut so low in front that none of the tellers who took the phony paper could tell the cops what her face looked like. I didn't have anything that crude in mind for Idaho, but any man who watched me when he could be watching her or any part of her would be crazy.

  I said, "How much were you making at the bank?"

  "T-ten thousand pesos a month."

  That was about four hundred dollars at the pegged exchange rate. I said, "How would you like to work for me for a while?"

  "You?" She was so surprised that she stopped sniffling.

  "I'll pay you two hundred a month, in dollars. That's almost ten thousand pesos on the free market."

  "What would I have to do?"

  "Write letters when I have any, run errands, ask no questions, and look luscious."

  She looked luscious and suspicious at the same time. I said, "I don't know how long the job will last, but I'll pay you a month's salary to start. It will hold you long enough to see if you can get another job. If you can't, I'll give you plane fare back to the States."

  "You don't have to . . ."

  "I owe you the plane fare because it was my fault that you lost your job. The salary is because I need your help."

  "Writing letters?"

  "Looking luscious, primarily."

  She was still suspicious. I turned my head to be sure nobody was within listening distance.

  "I'm going to open Parker's grave."

  "But you can't!"

  "I can. I have to. Somebody took a shot at me in Antofagasta yesterday. I don't know whether it was intended to hit me or not, but the next one may be. Old man Ruano has me boxed, and I don't know enough yet to threaten him. If Parker's body is in the grave, I can go home. If it isn't, I'll be able to squeeze the whole family for perjury on those affidavits they gave me, and maybe a few other things. Until I get

  the grave open, I'm only wasting my time and risking my neck."

  "If the grave is that important, you'll be risking your neck trying to get into it."

  "That's why I need yon."

  "What do yon want me to do?"

  "I'll tell yon later when I've thought it out. liicrc'll be no danger. I can cover up your part in it so that you'll be in the clear whatever happens. But I can't handle it alone, and I've got to get action before they hamstring me."

  "Why don't you take the affidavits and go home? You can make them do, if you really want to."

  I shook my head.

  "But why? Is it because they shot at you? Are you so bitter at them . . . ?"

  "I'm not bitter at them. I like them."

  She couldn't understand it. I tried to explain.

  "It's a job, Idaho. My business is doing odd jobs, like this one. My only stock in trade is a reputation for honest delivery. When I lose the reputation, I'm out of business. I was hired to find Parker, dead or alive, and until I can go home and say I personally am satisfied that I've done what I was hired to do, I haven't earned my money. That's all."

  "And for that you're willing to risk being killed?"

  "It isn't as bad as that. I won't be risking anything if you help me."

  I patted her shoulder and heaved myself up out of the hammock.

  "Tomorrow morning we'll take a ride in the country. wear. that skirt and sweater, and fix your hair the best Tvay you know how. Do you have a pair of fancy shoes with high heels?"

  "Yes. But if we're going to the country . . ."

  "You won't be doing any walking. I want you to fix yourself up the way you would in Buenos Aires if you were getting a bonus for every black-and-blue mark."

  It made her laugrh. She felt a lot better when I left her than she had when I arrived, even if she didn't know what I was up to.

  I bought a set of tools at a hardware store not too near the hotel. The main thing I needed was a good strong jimmy and an automobile ignition fuse. I got a couple of other things to be on the safe side. I thought for a while of orettino- a sfun, too, but I found out that I would need a license before I could buy one, and arrans^ino- for a license would be too difficult. Besides, if I was going to be shot at again, this time it would be as a trespasser and grave robber. Shooting back would only make me a possible murderer as well. I let the gun go.

  The afternoon took a long time to go by. Remembering the splat of that bullet and thinking about what I had to do the next day made me jumpy. I found myself setting traps to see if I was being tailed. There wasn't anybody in Chile who could stay on my tail if I wanted to shake him, but I was more interested in learning if I had company than getting rid of it. Nobody walked into my traps.

  My second brilliant idea for the day came to me as I was passing the Panagra ticket office. I went in and bought a ticket to Mexico City. They couldn't give me a guaranteed through flight inside of forty-eight hours, because there were no earlier reservations open north of Panama. Forty-eight hours was just what I needed before I would know whether I was ready to leave or had to cancel the ticket, so I acted like a man in a hell of a sweat to get out of the country; were they sure they couldn't get me away any sooner, and would the flie
ht leave on schedule, and so on. If I did have a tail on me, he'd have a satisfactory report to take home after he had followed me into the ticket office and asked a couple of questions.

  With that out of the way, I did a little fancy doubling to make sure I was all alone, ending up at the LAN ticket office. They remembered me, because I had bought my ticket to Antofagasta there only two days before. I asked them if a Sefior Ruano had purchased

  a ticket to Antofagasta at about the same time I did. I had expected to meet Senor Ruano in Antofagasta. However, I had missed him, and I was anxious to mumble mumble mumble mumble, por favor.

  They looked it up. Senor don Rodolfo Ruano had been on the flight which preceded mine. They could not understand how we had missed each other. Senor Ruano either still remained in Antofagasta or had returned by Panagra or some other means of transportation, as they had no record of his return by any of their planes.

  It surprised me to know that don Rodolfo had followed me north himself. I had expected to learn that it was Fito. I supposed the old man had figured that pulling triggers or hiring somebody to pull triggers was business too delicate to trust to one of the kiddies. It didn't matter much. They ought to leave me alone now until it was time for my plane to take off for Mexico. By then I would either be ready to go or ready to blow the Ruanos out of the water.

  It was about five o'clock when I got back to the hotel with my bundle of tools. I didn't feel jumpy any more, only tired. A siesta before dinner would fix me up. First I burned out the ignition fuse by jamming it slantwise into a light socket. Then I took a hot bath and lay down for a catnap.

  I was out for twelve hours, as cold as if I had been hit

  on the head with an ax. It was getting light when I woke up. I thought it was sunset instead of sunrise, and because my watch had stopped I called the desk to ask the time. The desk said six a.m., good morning.

  It was as good a time as any to start. First I phoned Idaho, to let her know I was coming. I didn't feel much like breakfast, but I ate some anyway, ptit my tools in a suitcase along with the chart of Parker's dental layout, and lugged the suitcase to the elevator. I had to push off a couple of bellhops in the lobby, and explain that I wasn't trying to jump my hotel ])ill, but I got the suitcase out to the street and into a taxi without letting anybody hear the tools rattle.

  Idaho was waiting for me at the pension. She had dug up another sweater that fit even better than the one I had seen, and the shoes were all anybody could ask for. So w'as her hair. She let me and the taxi-driver gawp at the get-up for a minute before she put on a long coat she was carrying and climbed into the taxi.

  "I feel like a chippy," she said, still blushing. "Is it all right? Or did I overdo it?"

  "It's perfect. If you don't stop traffic cold, I'll eat the spare tire on this heap. Which reminds me. I forgot to ask you if you could drive a car."

  "Yes."

  "Good."

  "What do I have to do besides drive a car?"

  "Wait awhile and I'll tell you. Here's two hundred dollars American, your first month's salary, and twenty-five hundred pesos for expense money."

  She took the money without asking foolish questions. I said, "We're going to a place where they rent automobiles. They'll ask your name and address and a few other things, and make you put up a deposit. If they ask where you intend to go with the car, tell them for a drive in the country—because it's spring, or anything you like. Let them know you're alone. Get a sedan, a Chevrolet, if they have one. If you have no choice, take whatever you can get except a green Ford coupe. I'll be waiting around the first corner to your right as you come out of the garage. Pick me up there."

  I let her off a block from the garage, and then had the taxi-driver take me and my burglar kit around the corner.

  It was fifteen or twenty minutes before Idaho came around the corner in a sedan. It was a Chevrolet, which only mattered to me because I knew where the fuses were on a Chevrolet without hunting for them, but at least we were starting off right. I slung my bag into the back seat and jumped in front.

  "Do you know how to get to Melipilla?"

  "Yes."

  "That's where we're going."

  While slie drove, I felt under the dashboard for the fuse clips. They were pretty stiff. I sprang them a little so she could get a fuse out without busting a fingernail. Then I showed her where it was, slipped the fuse out of the clips so she could see what it looked like, and slipped it back into place before the car had time to lose speed on the dead engine.

  "Now listen carefully," I said.

  a;

  "I'll be on the floor in the back seat when you drive through Melipilla," I told her. "About fifteen kilometers past the town there's a side road to the right and a sign that says 'Hacienda Quilpue.' You turn off there. Five or six kilometers farther along there's a little graveyard at the side of the road. The road goes over a hill there. If anybody is in sight when you get there, keep on going. If not, slow down enough for me to jump before you get to the top of the hill. The hacienda is in the valley on the far side of the hill, and I want to get off before the car can be seen from there. Follow me so far?"

  "Yes."

  "After you get over the top of the hill, pull the fuse out of the clips I showed you and let the car coast at least a hundred yards. Put this dead fuse in the clips as soon as you can and put the good one in your purse where you can find it in a hurry. Then look helpless. If nobody shows up, stay put until I get there. If anybody, particularly a slick-looking latino with sideburns, comes around, your job is to keep him occupied until you hear from me. I don't care how you do it, but if it's

  lyo THE LONG ESCAPE

  Sideburns, as I expect. I tliink lie fancies liimself as a ladies' man. Your best bet is to get out of the car and let him look at you—without the coat. I don't think he'll want to leave after that."

  "Would you like me to do a strip-tease for him? I want to be sure I'm earning my salary."

  Idaho's voice wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm. I said, "I'm sorry if it sounds bald. I'm explaining the set-up so you'll know what you're doing. Tell anybody who asks that the motor simply went dead, and that you have to get back to Santiago before noon. You came this way because you thought it was a short-cut. Sideburns may know enough to find the burnt-out fuse. If he does, he probably won't be able to dig up a replacement, but he can short the connections so the motor will start. If he gets that far, tell him you smelled something burning just before the motor went dead, and make him check all the wiring. I'll probably need half an hour. It's up to you to hold him and the car there until I'm finished, anyway you like. If he does manage to get it started, don't go any farther than the hacienda, wait for me there, and keep him with you. Get it?"

  She nodded, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. Her face looked stiff.

  "There's one more thing. I don't expect anything to go wrong, but it could. If trouble starts, put the good

  fuse in place and get away as fast as you can. The road will bring you out on a highway that goes into Santiago. Nobody knows I'm with you, so if they question you later you stick to the story that you were just out for a drive. You don't know why the motor conked out or why it started again when you tried it, but you did. The shooting scared you off."

  I put my foot in it good with that. Idaho's head turned quickly.

  "Shooting?"

  "Keep your eye on the road. I meant commotion. There'll probably be an argument, if they catch me."

  "You mean you'll probably be shot, don't you?"

  "I don't know. It's a chance I've got to take. I don't expect to be caught."

  We were getting near Melipilla then, so I crawled over into the back seat with the burglar kit and kept my head down while the car bumped over cobblestones. Beyond the town, I poked my head up again and watched for the turn-off.

  "Here it is," I said. "I'm going back into the hole now. Give me the word when you're ready to stop."

  Idaho made the turn. I could hear the sound of t
he tires change as we hit the soft dirt of the side-road. After a minute she said, "Al."

  It was tlie first time slie had ever called nic that. I said, "What?"

  "I'm scared. I'm shaking all over. Don't go through with it."

  "There's nothing to be scared of."

  I didn't tell her that my own feet were as cold as a couple of iced mackerel. I knew damn well what Sideburns would do with that big roscoe of liis if he caught mc robbing graves. The law would be on his side, too. I concentrated hard on the idea that I had a fool-proof scheme.

  Idaho said, "Please."

  "Are you backing out?"

  "No. I'm afraid for you."

  I wanted her to stop talking about it before my feet got any colder. I said, "You do your end of it and I'll be all right. Can you see the graveyard yet?"

  "No. Yes, I see it. On the left?"

  "That's it. Anybody in sight?"

  "No."

  "Be sure. Look all around."

  "Nobody."

  "Good. Say when."

  Forty-five heartbeats later—I could feel them pounding in my ears—she said, "Now!" The car slowed. I grabbed my burglar kit, opened the door, and jumped.

  The dust cloud covered me until I got inside the graveyard. A guard stationed behind a tombstone would have ruined me, but they hadn't got that cautious yet. I took the jimmy out of my bag and sprang the grilled gate of Parker's cave open oh the first try, not even breaking the lock. My nerves didn't bother me at all, once I was busy.

  Inside the cave, I closed the grille behind me and moved the fan of paper flowers out of the way. There were a couple of chisels and a maul in my bag, but I didn't need them. The mortar around the stone in the back wail of the cave was mostly sand. It came away under the sharp end of the jimmy. I had the stone out in about two minutes.