Till Death Do Us Part (4 page)

A
MALIE GOT HERSELF
pinned together and we started out. She made me want to pat her head, wipe her nose, and send her off for an afternoon nap. There was something very wistful, and very young, about her.

Outside I signalled a cruising cab. I put her in the back seat and said, “You go get some sleep and you’ll feel better.” I took out my wallet to pay the driver.

She leaned toward the open window. “You do not come with me?”

I wanted to say yes. I had some questions to ask her. But I was sure that Arden was watching from her post in the drugstore. I said, “Later,
chica,”
and used my fatherly smile on her.

With a woebegone look, she gave the driver an address. I paid him for the ride and then waved as she was driven off. Feeling virtuous for a number of reasons, I crossed the street to the drugstore.

I opened the door and stepped in. The bright sunlight outside made the cool dimness seem greater than it was and I needed a moment to adjust my eyes. I got them into focus just in time to see someone making tracks through a door at the rear.

I looked around and spotted Arden in a booth by the front window. I went up to her. “Wasn’t that Nace who just left?”

She looked blank. “I didn’t see anyone. I was watching you.” Her eyes fastened on my skinned knuckles. I had torn them on Delman’s belt buckle. “What happened with la Norton? Did you have to fight for your honor?”

I said, “A heavyweight bully by the name of Delman was pushing around Norton’s little secretary. We had words.”

She said, “You argue with the damndest people.”

“You know him?”

“He came to the
cantina
with her quite a lot,” Arden said. “He seems to be a big shot on both sides of the river.” She brushed Delman away with a shrug. “I’m hungry.”

I stepped back and let her out of the booth. “We’ll eat at the hotel,” I said. “You go first. I’ll wait a minute and then follow. We’ll meet at the plaza and grab a cab across. Okay?”

She got the idea that I didn’t want to risk our being seen together so close to Rosanne’s. With a nod, she was off. I went to the back of the store and asked the clerk for some cigarets.

I said, “How do I get to the five hundred block on Tiburon Street?”

He told me that it was in the Mexican quarter, two blocks up from the river. I thanked him and left, walking slowly. I hadn’t bothered to ask him about Nace. For all of Arden’s professed ignorance, I was sure that I had seen him. I wasn’t so sure that he had been in talking to Arden; he could have been following me.

Or he could have been checking on Amalie. Since they had been together the night before, I assumed they knew one another. I wondered if Nace had made her acquaintance because she worked for Rosanne Norton.

I decided I’d have to have a talk with Ignacio Riveres Portales. And another one with Amalie.

I walked slowly south to the plaza, picked up a cab, and had it cruise to the other side where I could see Arden waiting. When she saw me, she started forward, moving fast with that swinging walk of hers. I shut my eyes. To watch Arden in motion had a way of giving me ideas I had no time for.

Arden climbed into the cab. “In pain?” she inquired solicitously.

I said, “Someday I’ll tell you all about it,” and directed the driver to head for the river.

The border formalities over, the cab took us to the Rio Bravo hotel. We went to “our” room long enough to wash and then headed for lunch. The food was edible but no more. I understood why Navarro chose to eat at his
cantina
.

When we’d finished, I said, “Let’s go report to Navarro.”

“He won’t be available until six,” she said. “We can do whatever you want until then.”

I said, “Fine, let’s go upstairs.”

“Anything within reason,” she said quickly.

“And,” I went on as if she hadn’t spoken, “work out our list of rules.”

Upstairs, Arden kicked off her shoes and flung herself at the bed. She landed as usual with the looseness of a rag doll. I concentrated on lighting a cigaret. I said, “I reserve the right to try to shake you off—with due warning.”

“And I reserve the right to shoot you if I can’t stop you any other way,” she said calmly. She lit a cigaret too. “But I have only one rule. I wish you’d promise to stay put once you’re in bed. I’d like to get some sleep.”

I agreed. We smiled at one another. Arden yawned. I yawned. Without saying a word, we both got ready for siesta. With the curtains drawn over the window, the room was dim and cool. I lay and listened to Arden settling herself for sleep.

I thought about how to shake her. I decided the middle of the evening would be the best time. Then I’d go to Fronteras and talk to Amalie. I’d also talk to Nace, I thought, if Nace would talk to me.

Having decided how to spend my evening, I lay awhile thinking about what to tell Navarro when I saw him at six o’clock. My obligation was to Rosanne, not to Navarro, and yet I had made a deal with him.

I thought some more about Navarro—about him and his business relationship with Rosanne Norton. I speculated idly on the possible connections between that relationship and Enrico Pachuco, deceased.

I was still speculating when I fell asleep.

• • •

When I awoke it was five o’clock. I rolled over to tell Arden to start stirring. Her bed was empty. I rang the desk and asked the clerk if Miss Kennett had gone out.

“The
señorita
Kennett?” he said in a puzzled voice.

I said, “The dancer at the
cantina
of the Three Goats.”

“Ah!” A great light seemed to have dawned. “It is the
señora
Blane you wish. The
señorita
has become the
señora.”
Then, apparently, he became aware of which room was calling him.

“Should you not remember this,
señor?”

“I was just using her professional name,” I said quickly.

“The
señora
is in the bar,
señor.”

I hung up and went to change my suit. The
señora
, was it. I wondered who had registered Arden and me as man and wife. Navarro, I thought. Navarro was a great joker. A real funny guy.

• • •

I found Arden in the hotel bar. I parked on the stool to her right. She was drinking rye, I ordered the same.

She had a broad smile for me. “I’d like to get pie-eyed on this stuff right now,” she said.

I said, “I don’t like the idea of my wife drinking too much.”

“Your …” She set down her glass carefully. She wasn’t smiling any more. “Explain that one.”

I said, “Ask the desk clerk. He tells me we’re man and wife.”

She said, “Oh, that. Just a matter of convenience.”

My drink came and I took about half of it at a gulp. I said, “In Mexico a wife can’t push her husband around like she can in the States.” I leered at her. “So when I say jump, honey, you jump!”

“Now you listen here …” she began indignantly.

To show her that I was going to be a real Mexican type husband, I took her drink out of her hand and finished it for her. I said, “Now, go order us some dinner or whatever wives do to show the proper respect for their husbands.” I lit a cigaret and blew a smoke ring. “And don’t get any ideas of quitting your work; we need the income.”

She slid off the stool. “It so happens that my number has been cancelled for the time being. But if it hadn’t, I’d quit before I’d dance again—after a remark like that!”

I thought that when she was angry, she was very cute indeed. Her eyes had a lot of spark in them and two rouge-like spots of red colored her cheeks.

I said, “You’ll get used to it. The honeymoon is always the hardest part to adjust to.”

She stomped off. I finished my drink and ordered another. I was at peace with the world for the first time in a long while.

By the time I was through the second drink, it was six o’clock. I inquired for Navarro and was told he had gone to the
cantina
. There, I found him in his office. Arden wasn’t around, and I assumed she had gone to our room.

Navarro waved me to a chair. I said, “My wife isn’t doing a very good job of watching me for you. I could have been long gone any time this past hour.”

He chuckled, “The
señorita
telephoned me to complain of the situation.”

I said, “Did you tell her that she’s stuck with me in more ways than one?”

“You joke,
señor.”

I said, “The hell I do!”

Navarro began to look worried. His joke was apparently backfiring on him. Legally, of course, I didn’t have much of a leg to stand on, but with that hotel register as evidence, I could make a lot of noise if I cared to.

“Señor …”

I said, “Well, let’s get to other business. I saw Rosanne Norton.”

Navarro was willing to forget the whole subject of marriage. “And her reaction to the mention of Pachuco and my name?” he asked eagerly.

I told him what little I had to offer. I said, “When I got to you, it was obvious she’d rather I talked about almost any other subject.”

“Our business relations have always been amicable,” he said. “Why should the mention of my name perturb her?”

I said, “You evidently expected it to.”

“Mere curiosity,” he said. He wasn’t giving me anything more than Rosanne had. And the advantage was his. He had the benefit of rolls of fat to hide behind. I decided that it was about time to stop playing tag this way. I had a duty to my clients, but I also had one to myself. And Pachuco was still very dead.

I said, “Rosanne seemed to think Pachuco came here to blackmail her. Maybe she figured you were in on the deal.”

“I? For what could I blackmail her?”

“You tell me,” I said. “I understand she owns a piece of this hotel and that together you two run a labor agency.”

“Neither one is a source of trouble,” he said stiffly.

This wasn’t the jolly Navarro with the bubbly chuckle. This was either a worried man or a puzzled one. I wished I knew which. I said, “Look, Pachuco came here and contacted Rosanne. And he scared her enough so that she was willing to part with money to get me here. Then he turns up dead, and you use his death to force me to report about my own client to you. All out of mere curiosity?”

He shrugged. “Let us say that I like to know what my partner is up to, shall we? It is not like the lady to spend money foolishly—or any other way; naturally I am curious when she does spend any.”

I said, “That isn’t good enough.”

He wasn’t used to being talked to like this, no more than Rosanne was. His eyes got a hard gleam in them. “For you,
señor
Blane, it will have to be good enough.”

I got up. “To hell with you.” I started for the door.

He said, “Go eat your dinner. You obviously do not think well on an empty stomach,
señor
Blane.”

He was right, of course. I stalked into the
cantina
and ordered a meal. By the time I was halfway through the
sopa
, I had simmered down a little. I was hardly in a position to walk out on him or to demand anything from him.

I worked my way through a
filete
of beef. I ordered cheese cake with my coffee and a ten
peso
cigar with my brandy. Before the brandy and cigar were gone, I was mellow again. I decided I’d better go back and talk to Navarro. I’d had my fun; now it was time for business.

But I had one last fling—I charged my dinner to Navarro.

With half a cigar in my face, I started for the back of the room. As I passed the door to the bar, I glanced in. There was a lot of smoke and noise, most of it happy noise. I listened to a pair of nearby
obreros
in those pajama-like cotton outfits they wear going at it hot and heavy. They were getting all steamed up about the respective philosophies of Pablo Nerval and Garcia Lorca. That’s Mexico for you.

Only one person seemed not to be enjoying himself. This was Nace, sitting quietly in a corner and staring moodily into nothingness. I walked up to him and slowed as he lifted his head. Then I went on to the front door and out to the street.

He came after me. I moved up the sidewalk a short way from the
cantina
. He stopped beside me. He said in his bad English, “You sonabitch. What you doing here, huh?”

I said, “Wondering what you’re up to, chum. Let’s go somewhere and talk about it, shall we?”

“I have not the time to talk now. Come to my room at midnight.”

I said, “Sure, and don’t forget to have a few answers ready—like what you’re doing here.”

“I tell you nothing, you sonabitch,” he said. “It’s you who tell me.”

I said, “Or what you were doing out with Rosanne Norton’s secretary last night.”

I was trying to work him up, and I succeeded. He swore at me, in Spanish this time, and took a step backward and squared off to hit me. Short of making him appear a fool by picking him up and shaking him, I didn’t know what to do.

I let him hit me. His fist bounced off my shoulder and he tripped over his own feet and sat down. I said, “And what you were doing in Pachuco’s room last night.” I started away. “Midnight, amigo.”

He looked very angry and very young, sitting there on the dirty curb. I felt unhappy. I still thought of Nace as a friend.

When I reached the door of the
cantina
, I saw Navarro standing there and looking out. I said, “That guy was getting an early start. He’ll have a real head tomorrow.”

“Ah, these drunks,” he said. “And so young nowadays.”

I wondered if either of us was fooling the other. I said, “Let’s go finish our talk,
señor
.“

He said wryly, “I deserve something for the dinner you ate at my expense.”

I laughed and he laughed. He could take a joke as well as dish one out. By the time we reached his office, he was all full of chuckles again. We sat down. He offered me one of his cigars. I took it.

He said, “It
is
your opinion that the
señora
Norton brought you here to stop Pachuco from blackmailing her?”

“She claims she doesn’t know what he could blackmail her about.”