Salamanders

 

Salamanders

by Pete Murphy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                     Chapter 14

 

                                                              Hector and the Fox

 

 

 

On the flight to Philadelphia Reynard tried very hard to concentrate on other things, but the article he'd read about Morocco appearing to be ever on the verge of an explosion that never occurs galloped into an essay about the last Jews of Radauti, a waning Jewish community in Romania, and from there veered full left into a treatise on the weirdest animal in all of North America: the opossum. ("The 'o' in opossum is silent, like the 'p' in swimming"). With the teeth at its throat the possum feigns death, causing its predator to lose interest and go away. The possum has used this unique defense mechanism - unlike any other in the animal kingdom - to survive for 130 million years: He grins facing death.

It was all running together. He had to read some of the sentences three times before they made sense. Something was wedged into a corner of his brain, jamming the circuits.

He knew it wasn't the thing about the Presser kid and "innocent bystanders". No. We throw ourselves into our own hot grease. Everyone is responsible for all death, most especially his own. Death isn't what it used to be, clean. Not the act, the purpose. It no longer had the meaning it used to, no longer had reason. The odds of getting killed in anybody's lifetime is one in one hundred thirty-three. He'd learned to live with that.

It was something else, stuck between the Moroccan political blood pressure and the possum's grin, between the 'O' and the 'P'.

It had to do with Atlanta. Green pinstripe knew Babbitt's name. Was it a Babbitt mistake? It might have been a message: It's all open, Reynard, old chap. Anything you can imagine is possible, sport. Watch your bloody ass on this one, chum.

And it had to do with why he was chosen at all. They knew he was good. Why waste him on an open and shut domestic affair? The FBI had assassins. Clumsy, stupid bastards, most of them, with no clean purpose, but they could have done their own dirty work. Their boss - Brody - had asked for him specifically. Why? Reynard felt uneasy, like somebody was pulling him, reeling him into something he wouldn't like.

His brain had itched.

It had to do with purpose, the purpose of it all.

And it had itched when he checked into the hotel and reread the file.

It still itched. He scratched it with a bourbon and ice and a plate of cherrystones sitting at the clam bar two seats from the Greek, where he would be able to hear the band easily and wait for his table in the dining room.

Reynard wore a white, tailored suit with tiny lapels, pink pinstripe shirt, small collar, pink ribbon tie - thin - silver clip, pencil mustache, wire-rim glasses, very short hair, carefully brushed. He'd added contacts, a deep, inviting and vulnerable blue allure. The maitre'd spoke to him from the doorway.

"Your table will be ready in a few minutes Mr. Acropolis. There is a slight delay."

"Thank you," Reynard said in Greek, smiling openly, then, to the bartender, "The clams are especially delicious today, Roger."

Roger said he was pleased, poured him another drink.

Reynard said, "I suppose another will not hurt. Thank you. I expect it to be a quiet, but enjoyable afternoon."

The Greek's hand on his arm was gentle, apologetic. "Uh. 'Scuse me. You were born in Greece?"

"Oh no. Do I wish. My father was, however. My mother was Chinese. I was born in Switzerland. You are Greek," Reynard said.

"I am Hector Fortuna." He smiled broadly. His teeth glistened at Reynard.

"Well then, hell, Hector. Hail Dionysus." Reynard lifted his glass. Hector pulled his stool closer, and Reynard pushed the plate between them. He grinned. "Enjoy, Hector. And, as we Greeks say, consider the end of a long life."

The Greek helped himself.

"And what does 'Hector' mean?" Reynard asked pleasantly, sipping his drink.

"Means brave. Courageous."         

"Ah yes. Brave. Brave and fortunate."

"And you?"

"Giles. Giles Acropolis. It means comfort. My friends say it is how you spell relief."

They laughed together and ate the clams and listened as the music began softly in the next room. A quiet quartet: piano, French horn, upright bass and viola.

Reynard spoke in Greek. "Do you live here, in Philadelphia?"

Hector answered in English. "Nah. Some kinda business here."

Reynard smiled. "I deal in futures."

The Greek looked at him.

"Some kinda stocks and bonds," Reynard explained. He smiled.

The maitre'd returned. "Your table is ready, sir," she said.

Reynard said, "Hector, would you please join me at my table? I don't really care for eating alone."

Hector said, "Love to. I have nothin' 'specially planned for the morning."

Reynard was proud of him. Dumb bastard was trying to do it right. "If you'd like, I'll have the maitre'd prepare a lobster for you as well." He put his hand on Hector's back, let him enter first. "Unless of course you'd rather tackle something more ...fundamental," he added.

"Sounds... amusing. Ain't had a lobster in a long time, 'specially for breakfast."

            The maitre'd led them to a glass table under a massive indoor elm and a huge gallery above, lined with long high windows separated by murals of forests splashed in misty, deceptive colors. The March sun poured into the room and splashed through the tree in huge rectangular beams, scattering slivers of spark onto their faces.

"Will your stay be long?" Reynard asked.

"Hope not," the Greek said. "Lousy place. Gotta...need to get it all over with, get back to Camden." He braced himself, tried to stay in character. "Business cannot run on sediment," he said.

Reynard smiled. "Yes. Sediment. Terrible thing, sediment." God, he hated the Greeks.

When the lobsters arrived they ate in silence for a moment, savored the freshly killed meat.

Reynard waited, let Hector draw himself out. He explained how he'd come to remove someone from the business.

"Well. Just is not right, you know? Been with the guy many years. And he's so important. Taught me a lot."

The Greek tried to shove his little finger out as he held the glass. His hand was too tough for it, not used to this kind of control, Reynard noticed. He felt a little sorry for the guy again. Got to stop that, he thought.  

"Yes. Sad, Hector. It's a personnel problem, then?"

"Yeah." He burped. "Yes."

"Well, you are suited to the task, I'm sure. Will you then take his place?"

"Dunno."

"Well, of course, an elephant does not catch mice."

"Yeah. 'at's right."

The Greek was drinking pretty good, now. Reynard ordered more. "They've sent you alone to deal with this problem?"

"No. I..."

The Greek hesitated, began to cough. Reynard rose and went to him, slapped him hard on the back, passed his hand over his water glass once and handed it to him, saying: "Sorry, Hector. I'm much too talkative sometimes."

The Greek seemed to compose himself, wiped his eyes. Reynard took his seat again.

"'t's aright. What'd you say?"

He coughed again. Reynard watched him.

"It doesn't matter, Hector. It doesn't matter anymore. It will never matter ever again. I promise."

The Greek stared at him, choked harder now, tried to muffle it, wondered now if he knew the truth. He tried to speak. It only made him gasp. He tried again. One last thought:

"Dumb." he said.

Reynard smiled. Just a little.

The Greek was choking now, making very tiny noises. No breath left to speak.             

Reynard watched him closely through the jagged shards of light dancing on his glasses.

God he hated the Greeks.

"Caipe. Caipere." he said.

Good-bye. Farewell. Rejoice.

Reynard left the place quietly, knowing he would be remembered.

A dandy killed a Greek.

 

#

 

The Fox at the Door

 

Reynard got to the Raleigh Hotel a little after eleven. An old man sat behind the desk. Phone booths. Stairs. Another old man on a stool inside the open elevator, reading a newspaper, plastic half-lenses. Reynard approached him.

"Has Mr. Harte returned yet?"

"Mr. Harte. Uh...no. He still out."

"Well, I guess I'll have to wait."

Reynard stared at the man.

No response.

"Should I wait down here?" Reynard asked.

The old man pulled his eyes from the paper. His head didn't move. He stared above his glasses at Reynard. Just stared.

"Let me try this again. I'm here to see Harte. Is there anybody there?"

"Sure. Sure they's somebody up there. You wanna join 'em?"

"Love to."

The old man's eyes went back to his paper. 

Reynard stared at him.

"You feel like maybe taking me up?"

The old man pulled his eyes from the paper again. He looked pained.

"Oh. You wanna go up?"

Reynard smiled at him. "What's the number?"

"Three-o-six."

"Thank you. I'll walk up."

"Suit y'self."

 

Reynard stuck his foot in the door.

"Hi, George."

"Who're you?"

"A messenger. Hector said good-bye."

"What's that mean?"

"Means he doesn't love you anymore. He split."

George adjusted his glasses, sighed.

"Who the fuck're you?"

"Came to kill you. You want to open up, make it easy?"

Reynard didn't expect it: George opened up.

Nothing ever goes right...

 

#

 

“Watch your back”

 

Reynard strode into the room. He’d counted on two of them. He was right.

"Hey. Chi-Chi. Look. We got a carrier pigeon." George took his glasses off, twirled them in his right hand, sighed.

Chi-Chi. Near the window, chewing on a stick of pepperoni. Soft hands, skinny, nothing to him. Probably a pistol man. Silencer. Definitely the strong silencer type.

The Kid, George, right-handed, seemed prissier, maybe more easily delayed - postponed - then killed after Chi-Chi was taken out. The first problem seemed to be the gun. They need to be together. Chi-Chi was left-handed. Reynard needed to be on the left side of Chi-Chi and in front of the Kid. So. Two things: I'm on the wrong side of the room, and we need to be together. An easy chore.

But nothing ever goes right...

The bathroom door opened and a bullfrog in khaki underpants stepped into the room wiping his head with a towel. Looked like a toad, face like a wet olive. He stopped, looked around from face to face.

"Who's dis?" he said to George.     

The Kid opened his mouth, started to speak.

"Let me apologize, Mr..." Reynard extended a hand.

The Toad looked at it. "Who the fuck're you?"

"Giles Acropolis, sir. If you'd allow me, I'll explain."

George looked at Reynard's outfit, grinned. "Says he's a messenger. Came to kill me, he says."

Chi-Chi grinned too, pieces of pepperoni stuck in his teeth. "You came to kill George dressed like that?"

Reynard smiled.

"Who sent you?" George asked.

"Yer old lady, probably," Chi-Chi said.

George bristled. "Shut up, Chi-Chi."

The Toad glared at them.

Reynard moved across the room, plopped into a soft chair.

"Who sentcha?" the Toad asked.

"My employer."

"Well, just who might that the fuck be?"

"I am here, actually, on Mr. Harte's behalf."

"Bags didn't ever say nothin' about you."

"He doesn't know me."

"Look, faggot, make yourself clear. You're in a world of shit, comin’ here."

Reynard thought of the possum, bared his teeth, said: "Sit down, Toad."

The Toad lunged. Chi-Chi stopped him. "Wait, Arnie. Wait. This is good. Let him talk first. Then we'll kill him."

They paused. Reynard grinned again. "Arnie. Arnie the toad. Precious." he said.

"You better say something now, Mr...Acropolis." George said, stepping closer. They were all near him now.

Reynard made himself comfortable in the blue chair. "You see, Arnie...please, sit down. You'll enjoy this."

Arnie grabbed his clothes, dressed, glaring at Reynard.

"You see, Arnie," Reynard pointed to George, "The Kid here, and Hector, got themselves a little side job they need to do for the boss. They've been sent to kill your Mr. Harte. Bags, as it turns out, is of no further use to him. He's gotten too out of hand, too close, knows too much."

George exploded. "That's a fucking lie, faggot! Pilot would never have..." He stopped himself, looked at Chi-Chi, turned to Arnie. The Toad glared.

Reynard smiled. Pilot. A name. "Well," he said. "Pilot apparently would have. Did, in fact."

The Toad growled. "How you know dis?"

"Well you see, Arnie, that's what's been bothering me lately. I really can't figure out how anybody knows it, except George here, of course. It's really been bothering me. But I was asked to do a job, to cancel it. And I accepted. You don't need to know why. I only hope you won't be in my way."

George was incensed. "Chi-Chi. Go find Hector. Get him up here. Now!"

"Hector's dead." Reynard said.

They all stared at him.

"Ate a bad lobster."

George turned to the Toad. "It's all a lie, Arnie. I don't know who sent him but...well look at the wimp! He's not going to cancel anything! Except maybe his breathing."

"I got to know," Arnie snapped.                 

"Maybe you should call Pilot," Reynard suggested.

"Yeah." Chi-Chi went back to gnawing on his pepperoni, still grinning at Reynard. "Call him, see what he says."

The Toad looked at him. "Fuck's he gonna say? Yeah I sent them the fuck to blow away your partner? I'm his fucking partner, f'chrissakes."

"True, Arnie," Reynard said. He got to his feet. "Then I suggest you find Bags."

The Toad stared at him. They looked at each other for a long time.

"Yeah," agreed Chi-Chi. "Find Bags. Find somebody. Let's get this over with. I got a date."

Reynard smiled at him. Chi-Chi grinned back.

"Don't do nothing to him yet," Arnie said. "I'll be back." He strode to the door.

"Don't do nothing to him yet," he repeated, and left.

They had Reynard alone.

He moved to the window and turned, faced the room. The Kid was on his left, Chi-Chi to his right and not as close.

"Now we ought not to be making a lot of noise with this," Reynard said.

They approached him.

He turned to the Kid and threw his left arm out and up suddenly as if about to strike. The Kid's head jerked up to watch the hand and in that instant exposed his adam's apple. Reynard chopped at it once with the edge of his right, then spun, heard the Kid's knees hit the floor behind him, and the Kid gurgling, trying to breathe. Reynard had Chi-Chi's left now, still into his spin, snapping the finger and reaching with his own left into Chi-Chi's jacket but the gun not there and now Chi-Chi's right hand was up swinging at him from the side too fast. Reynard jerked his hand back out of Chi-Chi's coat, elbow up too late as the steel ripped through the jacket into his arm. Reynard threw his right hand out and up, slammed the heel of it full and hard into Chi-Chi's temple, sent him stunned off to the left, one, two, three steps to the side, too far, no, far enough, and Reynard gripped his hands together into one fist and swung again, harder now from the right, the arms out full and around, slammed again into the same mark at the side of Chi-Chi's head and heard a tiny grunt. Chi-chi buckled into a heap. Reynard followed through with his spin. The kid was getting to his feet. Reynard stepped once and kicked, felt the tip of his shoe hit the Kid hard under the chin, centered, back toward the throat, and the Kid flopped for a few seconds then didn't move anymore.

Reynard checked them, made certain they were dead. He looked at Chi-Chi. Shouldn't have worried about the gun. Must be slipping.

"A knife man," he said out loud. "Imagine."

He had taken off his jacket and pulled up his sleeve to check his arm when the door opened.

A big man in a blue suit entered. His pocket was torn. He had blood on his collar. His left cheek looked bitten. The Toad was behind him.

Getting crowded in here.

Nothing ever goes right...

Reynard smiled. "Mr. Bags. A pleasure."

There were no doubts in him at all about the danger, but he'd felt it before and could deal with it easily. They had to keep him alive, at least for a while, until it got sorted out. After that was done, after they could understand this four-eyed banana in pink and white who'd just taken out two of Pilot's soldiers, after that...they could kill him.

So he had a little time.

All he had was names.

Bags: The big baby face in the blue suit with the teeth marks on his cheek and blood on his collar. Somebody'd gotten a good chomp into him. Arnie the toad: The lackey. Pilot: Just a name. No face. No doubt the guy the feds were trying for. Why can't they find him?

Something was wrong about that.

That's all. He didn't know crap. He was definitely very teachable now. Most definitely he was in a very learning moment.

Reynard bowed politely and continued rolling up his sleeve, checked the damage Chi-Chi's knife had done.

"I'm all finished here, Bags. I'll get someone to clean up if you'd like. A phone call. I have resources."

They were in the room now, Bags locking the door, watching him, the Toad checking Chi-Chi and George sprawled on the plush wall to wall, Bags looking him over, calm blue eyes checking him out, red flushing at his neck and in the cheeks.

"You been jogging, Bags? You shouldn't run wearing a suit. You need to ventilate. It's bad for you not to ventilate when you jog." Reynard was tired of the faggot act now.

Bags continued to look at him. A little smile. There. Just a hint of it.

Reynard turned and stepped into the bathroom, washed the gash near his elbow, watched the other room in the mirror. They were out of view now, talking in low tones. He checked the cabinet for gauze, adhesive tape, found none, finally wrapped it with his handkerchief, rolled his sleeve down and went back into the room.

The Toad spoke, standing between the bodies. Reynard and Bags watched each other, Bags sitting on the sofa making short smooth little sweeping motions with his right hand, undisturbed, confident. Reynard stared at him.

"Bags means for you to sit down."

Reynard got his jacket from the table and made himself comfortable in the big chair. He smiled at Bags.

"You should get that cleaned up, Bags. A human bite's a very dirty thing."

Bags touched it, stared at Reynard. "S..CLICK..nothing." No smile. Not a trace. Reynard shrugged. Bags tried to massage the inside of his cheek as he spoke. His teeth fell crookedly to his tongue. He snapped them back up: CLICK.

"Could be deadly," Reynard said. He glanced at his watch. "What can I do for you, Bags?  I mean what else?"

Toad. Confused. "I'll talk for him. He knows what to say but he ain't too good at it. I'll say this, Mr. Acrology..." Pointing a finger.

"Acropolis." Reynard smiled at Bags, nodded. "Giles Acropolis."

No smile from Bags. Maybe. Just there. No. A twitch.

"Whoever the fuck." Toad getting angrier, more confused, moving between them now to face Reynard, too close, shoving a thumb back over his shoulder. "He ain't happy about something else I don't know about yet, but he's pissed. So I think you better the fuck say something not so smart-assed."

"I can hear fine. Thanks. I understand him fine. It's you I have trouble understanding, Toad."

The glare now. Here it comes. Like it's supposed to play. "Let's give you a different idea. How's this for heavy discussion?" The Toad coming out now with the gun. Dan Wesson Pistol Pac.

Imagine.

Reynard grinned.

The Toad's neck bulging now.

"I don't believe you! I'll kill you right now, you faggot."

"You can't believe, Arnie, ...CLICK. You don't know this man."

There it was: A little smile. Reynard couldn't see it with the Toad in the way, but it was in the words, the Toad turning now.

"Sit down, Arnie." CLICK. Bags waved his hand. Arnie put the gun away and sat at the far end of the sofa.

"I have seen you. Your picture. You are Reynard."

Reynard smiled. "Yes. The glasses don't do much for me and I can't stand pink and I hate having to talk like a fucking overeducated queen. Thanks."

"Well, tell me, Reynard. You have something to tell us."

Reynard settled in his seat.  

"Well, as I told your boy here, Chi-Chi and George there were sent to kill you. I was sent to stop it."

"Who sent them?"

Reynard shrugged. "Some people believe it was your man Pilot. I don't know."

"How do you know this?"

"I've chosen to trust my source on this one, Bags, but if I were you I'd check it out. Start to get bothersome after a while, friends putting glass in your potatoes."

"Who sent you?" CLICK.

Reynard shook his head. "People pay me. Don't ask."

"We can kill you now."

"You can try. But I don't really think you want to. I think you believe me, that Pilot wants you dead. I will tell you this. I've begun to wonder who really wants me here."

They looked at each other a moment, thinking about that.

"You've no reason now to kill me. And I've none to kill you. I've not been paid to do that. My job's over, for now. Those guys were sent to kill you." Reynard glanced at the Toad. "Both of you," he added. "I've stopped it." Reynard shrugged a little. "We're in the same business," he said. "I've got nothing more to tell you."

Arnie the Toad, calmer now, looking strange, worried, his mouth a little open, watching Bags. "You believe this, Bags?"

Bags smiling at Reynard, now. Reynard who knew. What the fuck did he know? He knew crap was all, and Bags believing it. Toss him a bone.

"What Ss..now?"

"Now I leave. And you leave. Ditch your cars or burn them up. Disappear. You're being watched."

There. See if he chews on it.

Reynard got up.

"Good luck," he said. "You might need a little, now."

He went to the door. The Toad started to get up. Reynard felt the stirring behind him, felt the big red face shake "no" at the Toad, heard his own voice after the door was open, just before he stepped into the hall leaving them to the future:

"Watch your back."

Saying it again as he shut it.

"Watch your back."

He knew it echoed at them from the hall.

 

                                                                             #

 

 

 

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