Chapter 9
"I'm telling you, Tom-unless you promise to release the film under a partnership agreement to share all the money from it, the Torres family intends to sue you in a court of law."
"You're kidding, Linda!" Tom could not believe he was hearing correctly.
"No, I'm serious. Perhaps you don't understand people as well as you think." Linda's voice held an almost palpable contempt for him.
"Christ! Who'd have suspected this? Those people must be crazy—why that film shows everything! I thought the girl was his wife?"
"She is."
"That prick! Wants a slice of my action—how about that? I figured maybe they'd squawk. But to want in! No. It just doesn't figure." Tom shook his head slowly back and forth.
To Linda, it looked as though he was not believing her. But he was. That was the trouble. He just did not understand anyone who would do such a thing.
"Who is that guy, anyway?" Tom asked suddenly.
"Taco Torres is all I know him by," Linda answered, and realized that a hint of admiration had entered Tom's voice.
"I honestly thought I knew 'em all. But Christ! How you gonna take the edge when some cat won't budge?" Linda was not sure she followed the meaning of all Tom was muttering to himself, but just the same she knew a beaten man when she saw one. And despite herself, she liked the way Tom was taking it. Suddenly a thought struck her: what if he were acting? What if he were up to something? How could she tell?
"You're being awfully calm about it," Linda said suspiciously.
"Listen, baby." Tom raised his head from his musings. "I'm a gambler at heart and I can see a full house when it's laid on the table. That guy don't play fair."
"Ha! That's a laugh. Look who's talking about playing fair."
"Oh, don't give me that righteous crap, sister. You've been around this town long enough to know the suckers don't want a break."
"The Torres brothers aren't suckers, Tom." It was crazy, but she almost felt sorry for him. He was such a pitiful figure after he found out that Taco would not play his way. Tom thought everyone but he was a sucker at heart, and that Taco could be as larcenous and coolly calculating as he was himself shocked him to the point of moral indignation.
"What about it? Are you going to release the film or give it back?"
"Release it, hell!" Tom exploded. "And I'm not about to let them have it, either." He stood up and crossed the room to a bookshelf and took the film canister into his hands. Giving vent to his frustration, he tore it apart and reeled the film into the air like ticker tape. Soon it was no more than a flat clear plastic tape lying exposed on the floor. Tom gathered it up and shoved it in a bunch onto Linda's lap.
"Here it is. Take the damn thing and get out of here!" Without a word, Linda gathered herself up and left.
"Whoopee!" Bull danced around the room. "Taco brother, you're a genius!"
"I'm not so sure," Taco said reflectively as he stood gazing at the pool with the film strip dangling from his hands.
"Oh, Taco, you couldn't be wishing he'd have accepted the offer, could you?" Cindy asked. Taco snorted but remained silent. Patti spoke instead.
"No. He's wondering how can we be sure we got the right film since it's already exposed."
"Not exactly." Taco turned slowly. "I was wondering how to counteract his play."
"What do you mean?" asked Bull.
"Well, he knows we don't want to tell the hotel—or at least he's suspicious of it. And he knows the film's no good to either of us blank ... "
"Taco!" Patti cut in, "I think you're making something out of nothing."
"That's possible," Taco ruefully admitted. "But it's fun in a way."
"I've had enough fun for a while in this town. Let's go home and forget it." Patti's voice held a certain determination.
"All right, I'm ready. But I'd rather play this out a little further, to be honest with you!"
"Oh, how can you, Taco?" Patti said, and stamped her foot in a tiny rage.
"Nothing is sacred, baby," Taco quipped, and returned his gaze to the outside.
In Linda's mind it was as if she were seeing two different persons. She had been anxious all during this episode as to how it would affect Patti and her plan to include Linda in the return trip home. And now, like it or not, Linda felt her chances dwindling as Patti and Taco seemed to be arguing. If their words turned into a fight Taco would be in no mood for the idea; of that Linda felt certain.
"You know what let's do? Let's go back to that suite where the pictures were taken." Linda paused to be sure everyone was listening, "and we'll have a scene and take pictures. I know how to start the camera."
"What good would that do?" Taco was being sullen. Apparently Patti had offended him, Linda realized.
"Well, I would kind of like another little bit of every one of you before you leave. So, I guess you could say it would do me good," Linda answered him slowly.
"But, Linda!" Patti burst out suddenly, "I thought you were going home with us?"
"Huh?" Bull suddenly awoke to the conversation.
"What?" asked Cindy, joining him in bewilderment.
"Now, that's a good idea!" Taco said.
"What is?" Patti asked, not sure whether he was commenting on her question to Linda or on Linda's suggested orgy.
"Both Linda coming home with us and making another movie with all five of us in it," Taco replied.
"I don't know," Bull said. "I don't feel right about this somehow."
Linda's heart sank to her shoes. The room was silent. Bull so seldom said anything—much less to disagree—that everyone was struck dumb. Including Taco. It was Cindy who finally came to the rescue. "Bull hasn't been feeling right since I asked him to fuck me in the ass; I guess it's that." She shrugged her shoulders almost as if she had said too much.
"But what does that have to do with us now?" Patti wanted to know.
"I see," Taco mused aloud.
"See? What do you say you see?" Patti was utterly baffled. Instead of answering right away, Taco turned to Cindy and asked: "What made you ask Bull to butt-fuck you, Cindy?"
"Now, wait a minute. Wait just a goddamned minute!" Bull interrupted. "I don't think that's any of your business, brother."
"Cindy brought it up," Taco countered and shrugged non-commitally. "I thought I saw a connection to Patti and the bellhop. That's all."
"Wait a minute, Bull. I want to hear this." Cindy waved her husband off. "Go on, Taco, explain."
"Answer my question first, then."
"What? Oh, yes. I think what made me ask Bull to do that was somehow because of Patti. Now, I don't know if I want it any more. But that has nothing to do with the film that I can see."
"That's where I think you're wrong," Taco said. "You see—and correct me when I'm wrong —I think you've objected all along. Before today I mean. You've not wanted anal intercourse because somewhere you felt it was dirty. What do you think? Am I right?"
"Come on, Taco. What is this—an encounter group?" Bull pawed the carpet with his foot and stared with a set jaw at his brother.
"Oh, Bull, let him finish," Cindy pleaded. "Yes, Taco, you're right so far."
"Vel zen!" Taco broke into a mockery of a pacing scientist. His arms beneath invisible coat tails and his torso hunched forward, he walked with locked, bent knees back and forth. "Vel zen. Vee have introduced a little Freud into our discovery! Very well. Then let's establish another factor: call it the Taco Torres Theory. When did this disturbance between you and Bull take place? I mean what time?"
"Aw hell," Bull said. "It was just before you came in and told us about the film."
"Ah-ha!" Taco shouted. "There is a relationship, you see? I brought the news of a film that was tied to Cindy's hangup in three ways. And by the way, the number three is important to all of this. Okay. First, it concerned Patti, Cindy's friend, sister-in-law, and nearly polygamous companion to both you and me. And there are three things in the first category." Taco made his comments as if everyone knew exactly what was going on.
"Then," he continued. "Then, it was a symbolic record, a piece of repeatable reality that others would experience. Something that exactly resembled Cindy's doubts. Only Patti was willingly—no, aggressively!—participating in it. And third. The bellboy made even that dirty by trying blackmail. Which caused Cindy's doubts to be reinforced. You see, that's what's wrong if anything is. And now it isn't here anymore. Bull senses that, and doesn't want to make another bummer appear. It's easy. That's all."
When Taco finished, everyone sat silent for a minute or so. Finally Linda spoke. "I don't think I followed all that, but somehow I feel like I did. No, that's not what I mean."
To her surprise, everyone but Taco burst into gales of laughter. He grinned as if he were only half amused. "What did I say that was so funny?" Linda wanted to know, as she was now totally confused.
"It's just that all of us have said the same thing at one time or another," Patti gasped through her laughter. "It's the way Taco is on everybody." Her laughing slowly dwindled.
"That's not as funny as they would have you believe," Taco remarked to Linda. Suddenly she felt warm, as if she understood something and she could express it. She was finally with people she could trust.
"Then it's all right if I come with you?" She simply asked the room and received a chorused "Of course!" and a bundle of hugs and kisses from everyone but Taco.
He was already on the phone checking them out. He dialed 0. "Hello, operator. Connect me with the desk, please."
"You can reach the desk if you'll dial 9, sir."
"I don't want to dial 9. I want you to do it for me."
"I can't, sir. It's against the rules."
"What rules?"
"Sir. Would you like to speak to the manager?"
"Yes, I would." Taco was feeling a bit out of humor having carried things this far; he started to say "Forget it." But before he could, he heard a phone ring. Shrugging his shoulders, he muttered to himself that since he had gone this far, he might as well hang on the line.
"Front desk."
"What? Who is this?" Taco was confused.
"The manager. May I help you, sir?"
"I thought ... Oh, hell! Never mind. I want to check out. Torres is the name. Have my bill ready. Oh, and by the way—you've a guest here, Linda McGraw?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, have a maid pack her room up and bring the luggage to the front desk." Taco covered the mouthpiece and shot a question at Linda. "I'm checking you out; anything in your room you want to take care of yourself?"
"My purse and cosmetics."
"Send Miss McGraw's purse over to room 164 and have the maid be careful of the cosmetics and toiletries. Put it all on my bill. Understand?"
"Yes, sir. I will see to it immediately. Will there be anything else, Mr. Torres?"
"Yes. How come you're at the front desk? I thought managers preferred their offices as a rule."
"Oh, indeed, sir. Well, there was just a matter that needed seeing to. Can we be of any further help to you, sir?"
"No. No, thank you. We'll be down in a short while." Taco hung up.
"Taco, I don't think I want to let someone do my packing. I'd better go see about it, if you don't mind."
"Sure, if you wish. Patti, why don't you go help her? And haven't you got our bag in the other room?"
"Yes. But I'm afraid to go there after what happened with the movie and all. You come with us."
"Okay. Tell you what. You go with Linda and I'll get the bag. Meet you in the lobby. That okay with you two?" he said, turning to Cindy and Bull.
"It's all right with us," Cindy said. "Besides, Bull and I have some unfinished business to take care of."