High Hunt. David Eddings

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t know, maybe we could advertise—‘Deliver mail for fun and profit’—something like that.”

      “I’m almost sure they’d find some way to send you to Leavenworth for it,” Jack said.

      “Probably,” I agreed. “They’re awfully touchy about some things. I’d sure appreciate it if you could pick those things up for me though. If you can, dump them off at a cleaner’s someplace. I imagine they’re pretty wrinkled by now.” I emptied my beer.

      “Another round, Charlie,” Sloane called to the barman. “Put your money away,” he told me as I reached for my wallet. “This is my party.”

      About a half hour later, a kind of hard-faced brunette came in. She hurried across to the booth and sat down beside Cal. She glanced back at the door several times and seemed to be a little nervous. “Hi, Daddy,” she said. She made it sound dirty.

      “Hello there, baby,” he said. “This is Alders’ brother, Dan. Dan, this is Helen.”

      “Hi,” she said, nodding briefly at me. “Hi, Jack.”

      I looked carefully at her. She had makeup plastered on about an inch thick. It was hard to see any expression under all that gunk. Maybe she didn’t have any expression.

      She turned back to Sloane with an urgent note in her voice. “Baby’s got a problem, Daddy.” It still sounded dirty. I decided that I didn’t like her.

      “Well, tell Daddy.” Sloane giggled self-consciously.

      She leaned over and whispered in his ear for a moment. His face turned a little grim.

      “OK,” he said shortly, “wait in the car—drive it around in back.”

      She got up and went out quickly.

      “Dumb bitch!” Sloane muttered. “She’s been gettin’ careless and her Old Man’s suspicious. I’d better get her a room someplace until he cools off.”

      “Is he pretty steamed?” Jack asked. “You’ve got to watch yourself with that husband of hers, Cal. I hear he’s a real mean mother.”

      “He just wants to clout her around a little,” Sloane said. “See if he can shake a few answers out of her. I’d better get her out of sight. I’ll have her swing me by your trailer lot, and I’ll pick up my car. Then we’ll ditch hers on a back street. I know a place where she can hole up.” He stood up and put a five-dollar bill on the table. “Hate to be a party-poop but—” He shrugged. “I’ll probably see you guys tomorrow. Drink this up on me, OK?” He hurried across the dance floor and on out, his hat pulled down low like a gangster in a third-rate movie.

      “That dumb bastard’s gonna get himself all shot up one of these days,” Jack said grimly.

      “He cat around a lot?”

      “All the time. He’s got a deal with his wife. He brings in the money and doesn’t pester her in bed, and she doesn’t ask him where he goes nights.”

      “Home cookin’ and outside lovin’?” I said. “Sounds great.”

      Jack shrugged. “It costs him a fortune. Of course, he’s got it, I guess. He’s got the pawnshop, and a used car lot, and he owns a piece of two or three taverns. He’s got a big chunk of this joint, you know.”

      “No kidding?”

      Jack nodded. “You wouldn’t think so to look at him, but he can buy and sell most of the guys up and down the Avenue just out of his front pockets. You ought to see the house he lives in. Real plush.”

      “Nice to have rich friends,” I said.

      “And don’t let that dumb face fool you,” Jack told me. “Don’t ever do business with Cal unless I’m there to keep an eye on him for you. He’ll gyp you out of your fillings—friend or no friend.”

      “Sure wouldn’t guess it to look at him.”

      “Lots of guys think that. Just be sure to count your fingers after you shake hands with him.”

      “What’s the deal with this—baby—whatever her name is?”

      “Helen? She’s married to some Air Force guy out at McChord Field—Johnson, his name is. He’s away a lot and she likes her nookie. Sloane’s had her on the string for a couple of months now. I tried her and then passed her on. Her Old Man’s a real mean bastard. He kicked the livin’ shit out of one guy he caught messin’ with her. Put the boots to him and broke both his arms. She’s real wild in the sack, but she’s got a foul mouth and she likes it dirty—you know. Also, she’s a shade on the stupid side. I just didn’t like the smell of it, so I dumped her in Sloane’s lap.”

      “You’re a real friends,” I said.

      “Sloane can handle it,” Jack said. He looked warily around the bar and then at the door several times. “Hey, let’s cut out. That Johnson guy might come in here, and I’d rather not be out in plain sight in case he’s one or two guys behind in his information. I think I could handle him, but the stupid bastard might have a gun on him. I heard that he’s that kind.”

      “I ought to be getting back out to the Fort, anyway.”

      “I’ll buzz you on out,” Jack said, pocketing Sloane’s five.

      We walked on out to the parking lot and climbed into Jack’s Plymouth. We were mostly quiet on the way out to the Fort. I was a little high, and it was kind of pleasant just to sit back and watch the lights go past. But I was a little less sure about the arrangement than I had been earlier in the evening. There was an awful lot going on that I didn’t know about. There was no way I could back out gracefully now though. Like it or not, I was going to get reacquainted with my brother. I almost began to wish I’d skipped the whole thing.

      4

      THE following Saturday I got out of the Army. Naturally, they had to have a little ceremony. Institutions always feel they have to have a little ceremony. I’ve never been able to figure out why really. I’m sure nobody really give a rat’s ass about all that nonsense. In this case, we walked in a line through a room; and a little warrant officer, who must have screwed up horribly somewhere to get stuck with the detail, handed each of us a little brown envelope with the piece of paper in it. Then he shook hands with us. I took the envelope, briefly fondled his sweaty hand, walked out, and it was all over.

      “You sure you got my address, Alders?” Benson asked as we fished around in the pile for our duffle bags.

      “Yeah, kid, I got it,” I told him.

      “Les-ter,” a woman’s voice yodeled from the parking lot.

      “That’s my mom,” Benson said. “I gotta go now.”

      “Take care, kid,” I told him, shaking his hand.

      “Be sure and write me, huh? I mean it. Let’s keep in touch.”

      “Les-ter! Over here.”

      “I gotta run. So long, Dan.” СКАЧАТЬ