Soft touch (2 page)

"And now," I said to Vince, "you can tell me what's on your mind."

Chapter 2

We settled into the breakfast booth off the kitchen with fresh drinks. Irene had cleaned up and gone home. The back door was open and the first bugs of the season were banging their heads against the screen. 14

He smiled at me in a wry, wise way. "Old Jamison. Now you carry a Chamber of Commerce card."

"Junior chamber."

"And you're all settled down. Maybe you're too far settled down for . . . this little thing I have in mind."

"So try and see."

"First, I'm in the country illegally. I'm not a citizen anymore. I've got a very good passport. Forged. My boss thinks I'm off on a hunting trip in Brazil. He'd get nervous if he knew I was in the States. He might even figure out what I've got on my mind. Something I've been thinking about for months. Two good men can swing it. Me, and somebody I can trust. Really trust. So I keep thinking of you, Jerry."

"Aren't you sort of backing into this?"

He grinned and became more direct. He told me he had adopted nationality. For reasons which will become obvious, I will call that country Valencia. It is a country in South America under a strong dictatorial thumb.

"The things I tried after the war didn't work out, Jerry. I was too restless. I got a license to fly. And then I decided to blow what was left of my father's estate in buying a plane and taking a tour of Central and South America. I had a ball for about a year. I began to run thin in the money department in Valencia. I met a man at a party. I told him the shape I was in. He took my hotel address and said he had an idea. The next day a driver came and picked me up in a fat Mercedes and took me out to be interviewed by a Seflor Melendez way the hell and gone out in the country at his ranch. He wanted a man for odd jobs, a pilot with both English and Spanish, somebody who wouldn't get alarmed if things might get a little rough now and then.

"I went to work for him eight years ago. It's been . . . very interesting, Jerry. As tests he set up certain . . . temptations in my path. But I was just shrewd enough to play it his way. So, insofar as Melendez trusts anybody he trusts Vincente Biskay. And it's been profitable.

"Outside of our semi-benevolent dictator, el General Peral, Melendez is the most powerful man in the coun-

try. He's an industrialist. Never has operated in the political field. A cold and ruthless guy. Now we come to the meat. For the past three years Peral and Melendez have been moving toward a showdown. Through monkeying with the tax structure, Peral has been putting the squeeze on Melendez. Raoul Melendez has been getting too strong and powerful, and any dictator gets nervous when one of his subjects shows signs of getting too damn big. Peral has been trying to clip his wings. Raoul Melendez won't stand for it. So, to keep from being sunk without a trace, he's forced to go into the field of political action. And in that area, it means bullets. Follow me?"

"Who is going to win, Vince?"

"Pertinent question. I think Peral is the likely one. He has the hard core of the professional army in his pocket Melendez has bought himself some young and ambitious army officers. They've been selected with great care, but I can't be certain Peral hasn't got a plant among them. Melendez has been planning the coup with great care. It is supposed to look like a spontaneous uprising of the people and a chunk of the army to depose Peral. If it's successful the country will be governed by an army junta for a time, and then a man will go in as boss man and he will be one of Melendez's tame ones. But I don't think the dream will work. And if it shouldn't work and I don't get out in time, I might get some mortal knots on my head. So, I'm making other plans. It's a horse race and I'm betting Peral on the nose."

"How?"

He took a long pull at his drink and set the glass down empty. "I've got a special source of information very close to Raoul Melendez. Very damn close. In bed with him, in fact. She has a lively intelligence and a lot of curiosity, and a deft way of getting data out of Melendez. Melendez is stockpiling modern weapons for the great day. In a recent fracas in the Middle East, one country picked up a lot of stuff they didn't need. They've put it on the open market. The top agent for it is a smart Greek named Kyodos who lives in the States. He likes dollars. He has good shipping line contacts. So Raoul 16

Melendez has been converting his holdings in other South American countries into U. S. dollars and turning them over to Kyodos. In return some very effective infantry weapons, some light artillery and some light armored vehicles are being landed right under Peral's nose, marked as machinery and equipment for one of Melendez's new industrial construction projects. It gets stockpiled at a remote hacienda, and one of my recent projects has been to train the willing peons in the use thereof. The flow is still going on. It's a slow process because it takes time to accumulate enough dollars to make a respectable shipment of funds to Kyodos. It just so happens, ole buddy, that I know exactly how the next wad of currency is being shipped and exactly when. Does any light dawn?"

"So far I'm not interested."

"Didn't expect you to be. You're a moral type. My deal with Carmela, Melendez's tootsie, involves getting her out from under. Plus a share of the take. But not a big share. The big share is for me. And you."

"I don't fqel any reaction yet."

"It would not be theft, Jerry. Keep that in mind. It would be just a little job of hijacking the war funds of a greedy joker who is trying to overturn the stable and U.S.-recognized government in what promises to be a very bloody-type revolution. Hundreds of innocents killed. From the moral viewpoint we'd be doing the world a favor."

"Not 'we,' Vince. This sounds, crazy to me. Listening to it in my own kitchen makes it sound crazier."

"At great personal risk, but with certain . . . pleasant compensations, I have been teaching the lovely Carmela to fly a plane. She only has to make one trip. And by the time it's over, Melendez won't be coming after her, because by that time he'll be in one of Peral's nice deep political prisons, or maybe a few feet deeper than that. Here's how easy it will be, Jerry. I get out at precisely the right time to meet you at Tampa. With a plan I've devised, which takes two to handle it, we deftly remove the funds from the courier. At about the same time that is happening, Carmela is taking off, having made certain

the complete plans of the whole operation are falling into Peral's hands. The Melendez empire goes pfft, we arrange our split and part forever. Nobody is hurt. No agitated forces of law and order. Nobody in any shape to claim anything stolen. I need one other man to swing it, a man I can trust."

I tried to think of the right way to say it. He got up to fix himself a drink. I said, "Maybe we've grown apart in twenty years, Vince. I'm not the same kind of guy I was then. I can't even imagine myself capable of doing some of the things I did then, taking some of the risks. You can call me stuffy, but you're operating out of my league. I wouldn't want to take a chance of getting all jammed up like that even if there was . . . oh, a hundred thousand bucks in it for me. I'm just a businessman in a medium-sized city. I used to do risky things, but that was a war. You're still living that way, Vince, but I'm not."

As he sat down opposite me he looked thoughtful. "Boy, are you leading the big warm happy life? There's never been any kids in this house."

"That's beside the point."

"No it isn't. If the setup looked good, then maybe this would have been just a friendly visit. Your lady is a lush, friend."

"That's beside the point too."

"I'll ask a different kind of question. What do you think war materiel costs in this brave new world anyway?"

"Quite a lot probably."

"Melendez is worth somewhere between a third and a half billion dollars, Jerry. So he's investing maybe forty million in his venture into politics. And, my naive friend, in the next shipment of funds to Kyodos there will be between three and a quarter and three and three quarters millions of dollars. Untraceable. Nobody will be anxious to claim it. The Greek won't come after it. Melendez will be sunk. Peral will have no interest. The joker we take it away from will certainly make no squawk to the authorities. It's a once in a dozen lifetimes chance, laddy. 18

You're forty-three now. The split goes this way. I get two. You get one. Carmela gets the overage up to a half million. Anything over that you and I split down the middle. Your minimum will be one, your probable maximum one million one hundred and twenty-five thousand. But it could run to one million three. Then you have your choice. You can try to put it to work here without exciting the interest of the little men with the briefcases. Or you can become an expatriate and live in horrible luxurious indolence for the rest of your turn around the track. We planned a lot of cute things together, Jerry, and we pulled them all off and, believe me, this little hassle is simple as can be compared with some of those others. So don't say no in too big a hurry. Think it over. Mind if I carry this one up to my bed?"

After he had gone up, I made myself some coffee. I sat in the booth for a long time. I thought of certain small changes in Vince. There had been a lightness in him that was now deadened. I sensed a coldness. But, hell, I had changed too. I wasn't exactly bursting with joy. For the past two years young Eddie had.been working for E. J. Malton, and at more pay than he deserved. His willingness to try to give me orders indicated that in his own mind he was the heir apparent. I suspected that if E. J. kicked off, young Eddie would inherit papa's stock which, along with mama's, would give him effective control. And working with the kid would be impossible, if there was any company left.

One million dollars. Freedom from E. J. Maybe freedom from Lorraine too. Because I had had just about enough.

And I found myself wondering if I might make room for Liz Addams. E. J. had hired her three years ago. The widow of a naval aviator, she had bought secretarial training with his insurance money. A tall, gray-eyed gal with pale, lustrous, creamy hair and a very direct manner. No coy feminine antics, and a good sense of humor. I had liked her from the beginning. About a year ago, for no reason at all, Lorraine started needling me about Liz. And only then did I begin to look at Liz from a dif-

ferent point of view—and see the curve of her waist, and the tilt of a hip, the long trim legs, and the soft and generous look of her lips.

And I started to daydream about her a little bit.

And took her to coffee and worked the conversation around to Lorraine's accusations. Liz was amused and a little bit angry. "Buster," she said. "May I call you Buster? If the next step in this little gambit is to tell me we've got the name, so let's have the game, the answer is no. No office romances for Lizzie."

"I wasn't thinking of just an ordinary romance," I told her. "I was thinking of fleeing together to Samarkand or Pago Pago."

"Or Scranton. Let's get back to work."

So now I daydreamed a little more. I added Liz to the million bucks and came up with an island, house boys, a schooner at anchor, and Liz swimming in the sunlight in the coral lagoon. ...

But that was nonsense. I could be grateful to Vince for one reason. His wild plan had increased my determination to get out of E. J.'s little family corporation. Seeing Vince had crystallized my discontent with a futile job and a spoiled child wife.

Your lady is a lush. It had made me angry when he said that in his cold, amused way. But it was accurate.

Maybe this was the time to get out. Change the dice once more before it was too late.

I went up to bed. There was no need to be quiet. I could have marched Armstrong and all the saints through the bedroom without changing the deep drugged rhythm of her breathing. I stood over her and looked at the slack sleeping face. In sleep her face had the innocence and vulnerability of a child's.

After I was in bed I began to plan my little chat with E.J.

Chapter 3

Liz told me at nine o'clock Saturday morning that the big little man wasn't in yet. It was raining steadily. The rain on the window by her desk had a stained and greasy look.

I sat by her desk and said, "I suppose he sent out a lot of cancellations when he got back yesterday."

"Dozens. All by wire."

"Liz, I'm going to get out."

She finished a line of her typing, banged the carriage back and turned and looked at me. "It's about time, Jerry."

"I didn't know what your reaction would be. I didn't expect that."

"Why not? Couldn't it be as obvious to me as it is to you? All your reasons?" She glanced toward the door and said, "Good morning, Mr. Malton."

E. J. came in, followed closely by Eddie. "Good morning, good morning, good morning! Great day for ducks."

"I want to talk to you, E. J."

"In a moment, Jerry. In a moment." And he went into his office with Junior and shut the door. Junior didn't come out for half an hour. I couldn't imagine any conversation that would require his presence for half an hour.

"Come in, Jerry," E. J. baroomed.

I shut the door behind me. I sat down and said, "I want you to listen to me, E. J. To what I say."

"You know perfectly well I give my full attention to everything that comes up."

"I chickened out yesterday, E. J. I let you bluff me. You went ahead and canceled the orders I placed."

"Orders you placed after revising working drawings without my permission. You know the rules around here."

"I want a showdown. I want those houses built my way. You promised me a free hand."

"A free hand within the rules. Within our operating procedures."

"Nuts. Do you let me build them my way?"

"On a project this big, Jerry, I'd be a damn fool to let you go ahead with a lot of silly experimentation. If you're asking a stupid question, the answer is no."

"Then I want out. Now."

"Why, if we were to go ahead with your ideas, we'd be the laughing . . . What did you just say?"

"I said I want out."