Chapter 7

I sat at the back of the bar nursing my second rum and coke. It was a nice quiet place. There were a few tourists and a few of the local crowd. It was just rundown enough that I wouldn't have to worry about Duke Bevins dropping in for a drink, even though I was sure he was in town.

I was pretty well disguised, but still I didn't want to test it on Duke if I didn't have to.

I worked on the drink slowly, but pretty soon the glass was empty. The bartender came up and made a sign with his head universal language for "You want another one?"

I pushed the glass toward him.

While he was mixing the drink, I looked over the cash I had left. A hundred and forty pesos wouldn't take me very far. For just a minute, I felt a touch of panic.

I was in a hell of a fix if I didn't get some big money soon. Duke held all the cards but one. I had a dandy hole card. He thought I was dead. But still the odds seemed to be in his favor, unless I could get some cash.

There was Monica, of course. But for a lot of reasons I had to ditch her. She would be wanting to go out on the town, and I couldn't afford to be seen in public. And she had a way of taking my mind off the job I had to do.

I picked up the fresh drink and took a belt of it. I had begun to sweat a little, because if I didn't get that money Duke had stolen from me, I'd be back where I was a year ago. On the beach.

And all the work I'd done in Puerto Reyes, making the black market pay off, would be down the drain. I didn't like being broke. I didn't like it now because I only had a hundred and forty pesos in my pocket. In Acapulco, you could blow that much on one good meal.

If Duke got away from me now, then the old struggle would have to begin all over again. Except that I might not find another place like Puerto Reyes, where a guy could make money by using his brain.

I could always go back to the states and find a job, or ship out again on some crummy tramp steamer. But I'd had a taste of money and freedom. It was a free and easy life. Who wanted to sweat a-way his years working for somebody else?

Not me. I had to be my own boss.

Nothing else would do.

I lifted the glass to my lips, then put it down without taking a drink. I had to make it last. This was no time to be squandering money. I wanted to stay off the streets until three o'clock. By two-thirty there wasn't even a lump of ice left in the glass, so I had to order another or get out I gave the bartender a nod and he brought me a fresh one.

The sun was beating down out of a cloudless blue sky when I walked across to the malecon. I found an empty bench and sat down. From there I was able to look across the street at the entrance to the Post Office.

I lit a cigarette and waited.

In less than ten minutes a cab pulled up, and there was Duke Bevins standing on the curb. He looked natty in a white suit and Panama hat. He had never dressed that way in Puerto Reyes. He was already starting to spend my money.

I felt my guts tighten as I watched him pay the driver and walk into the Post Office. The taxi drove off. I figured he would come across the street and take one of the cabs parked there, after he had called at the general delivery window.

I stood up and walked along the sidewalk, keeping an eye on the entrance of the Post Office.

I went down to the last cab in the row and climbed in. The driver folded a newspaper he had been reading. I handed him a ten peso note.

"We'll wait here for a minute," I said.

"Por que?"

"Just do as I tell you," I snapped.

"Si, senor."

He folded the bill and stuck it in his shirt pocket. I was hoping Duke would head back to his hotel when he came out. If he didn't, I might be facing the wrong way. But even if I missed him this time, I'd have other chances to tail him. Probably several days.

I hoped my calculations were right about the mail service from Puerto Reyes. If he came out with the package, then I'd be in trouble.

He came out five minutes later, and he didn't have the package. Just as I had thought he would, he came across the street and got into one of the cabs.

I tapped the driver on the shoulder and pointed at Duke's cab pulling away from the curb.

"Follow him," I said.

The driver grinned and nodded eagerly. He thought it was some kind of a game. He ground the gears and spun rubber off the tires getting started. And then he stayed right on Duke's tail, so close that I thought we would knock bumpers.

I touched his shoulder again and motioned for him to drop back. He did. We rolled way out on the boulevard to where the very best hotels were.

When Duke's cab pulled into the drive of the Hotel Royal, I motioned my driver over to the curb. I didn't want to wait while he fumbled with the change, so I let him keep the twenty peso note.

The walk leading up to the side entrance of the Royal was lined with bougainvillea. I followed it into the huge lobby. I had been right about Duke's expensive tastes. He couldn't have picked a more swanky hotel in Acapulco, a town that was loaded with swanky hotels.

I stood in the door for a minute looking around. Duke was at the desk, picking up his key. I waited until he was on the elevator, then I walked over and smiled at the clerk.

"Wasn't that Mr. Bevins?"

He looked puzzled. He scratched his pencil mustache with a delicate finger and frowned. Then he turned to the small file cabinet and flipped through the cards.

"No, senor," he said. "That was Senor Green."

"Jacob Green of course," I said. "I was sure I recognized him. Which room is he in?"

"Room six-fourteen," said the clerk. "Shall I ring him for you?"

"Don't bother. I'll probably see him at dinner."

I strolled over to the news stand just off the lobby and bought a paper. Then I went and sat in the corner where I could watch the bank of elevators.

I sat there for a while staring at the front page of the paper without reading it. Duke Bevins had become Jacob Green. He was playing the part to the hilt. A name Chris Maddox had pulled out of the air, that night we were clearing out of Puerto Reyes for good.

I wondered if Duke had arranged for identification papers to prove he was Jacob Green. It would be a handy thing to have, in case the man at the Post Office asked.

I didn't even have papers to prove I was Hank Sanborn. I'd lost everything in the goddam fire at sea. Among a lot of other things, I was going to need some kind of identification. But first of all, I needed money.

I had an urge to go up to Duke's room right now and get it over with. But if I finished him off now, that would be the end of any chance at the jewels. The clerk would remember me asking about Duke, and I would have to get the hell out of town, but fast.

I had to hold on tight and play it cool. It was the only way.

I lit a cigarette and settled back to watch the elevators. I had figured on quite a wait, but the doors slid open, and there was Duke again. He looked right at me for a second, clear across that monstrous lobby.

But there hadn't been a flicker of recognition. Who would expect to see a dead man sitting there?

Duke was wearing a terry cloth robe and slippers. So he was going to take a dip in the hotel pool. I studied the newspaper until he went out the side door. Then I got up and followed him.

I stood behind a bush and watched him get settled in a lounge chair. He put on a pair of dark glasses and rubbed suntan lotion on his chest.

I laughed grimly.

Duke Bevins, the bulldozer jockey, making like a millionaire. And using my money to do it. This easy living was making him soft. I hoped it had softened his head as well.

I left him there, basking in the sun, and rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. The locks on the doors looked pretty solid. I'd never been very good at jimmying locks, anyhow. There had to be a better way.

I stood there for a minute in front of six fourteen, wishing I had a crowbar. But of course that would make altogether too much noise for such a genteel place as the Hotel Royal. I had to think of something else.

I lit a cigarette and walked casually down the hall. It was a hell of a long corridor, running the full length of the hotel, which was about a quarter of a mile.

I was standing by the elevators smoking, when I saw one of the maids come out of a room wheeling her little cart. She locked the door, pushed the cart up the hall, and unlocked the next door.

I shoved my cigarette stub into the crock of sand and hurried along the corridor.

The maid had left the door half open. I walked right in. She was already stripping the bed. She gave a little gasp when she saw me.

I looked around like a confused tourist, then glanced at the number on the door.

"I'm sorry "I said. "I must have the wrong room."

"Ifs all right "she replied.

She looked me over curiously, then gave me a coy smile. She had a pretty Indio face and a lot of black hair tied in a knot behind her head. I saw her keys hanging from a string on the belt of her starched blue uniform.

She stood there uncertainly with a pillow in her hand, waiting for me to go out the door. Instead, I pushed it shut and walked over to her.

I put a corny, faraway look in my eyes, the kind that had made her heart flutter when she watched American movies. They all had. I breathed a heavy sigh, and she nearly swooned. Her dark eyes fluttered.

When I reached out to her, she let the pillow fall to the floor. She practically lunged at me.

I took a good hold on her firm little body and gave her a hell of a kiss. She slid her arms around my neck and squeezed, rolling her belly against me.

She was ready.

I could have made it with her there on the bed, and I was damn near tempted to do it. Just like the young gals I used to pick up at the bus station in Puerto Reyes, she had come to the wicked city to seek her fortune. And she had already learned a bag of tricks.

While I kissed her, I massaged her rump. She leaned against me with her eyes squeezed tight and gasped. She let my hands stray all over her wanton little body.

Finally I broke away.

"Wait here," I whispered. "I'll be back in a moment."

She licked her swollen lips and nodded. "I'll wait for you "

I rushed out the door and down the hall. I wanted to get inside Duke's room before she discovered that I had lifted her keys. I looked back as I unlocked the door to six fourteen. She still hadn't come out of the room.

I locked the door behind me.

Then I walked slowly around the room, looking it over. Duke's old suitcase was there, and so was a new one, which he had probably bought for a replacement.

I lifted the old suitcase onto the bed and flipped the lid open. It was empty. So was the new leather job. I started going through dresser drawers.

There was nothing there.

I looked in the closet, searched through the pockets of the three suits hanging there. I ripped the covers off the bed, lifted the mattress and searched the pillows.

Then I started going over the two suitcases an inch at a time. I found Duke's pocket knife on the dresser and cut away the cloth lining. I did the same with the new leather suitcase, and that's where I found the loot.

Three stacks of twenties. Three thousand bucks. I shoved them into my coat pocket. On the dresser Duke had left his wallet. I got another thousand from it.

That was all there was in the room.

I knew he hadn't worn his money belt down to the pool. So that meant he had probably put the rest of the money in the hotel safe.

I'd done pretty well at that. It wasn't the ten thousand he had swiped from me on the boat, but I'd get the rest of it someday. Right now I had more than enough to keep me going for a good long time.

I walked over to the door and stuck my head out. There was nobody in the corridor. I locked the door behind me and hurried to the elevators. I dropped the keys on the floor where the little maid would find them, and rode down to the lobby.

I felt a hell of a lot better with money in my pockets. I wanted to stop somewhere for a drink, a celebration. But there was something else I had to do first.

I hailed a cab and rode to the Hotel Castillo. Once more I phoned the room from the lobby. There was no answer. Monica was still waiting for me on the beach. I got the key and went up to the room.

My suitcase was already packed. I wrote Monica a note and put it in an envelope with two hundred and fifty bucks. I left the envelope on the bed and went out the door.

The manager thought I was checking out already, so I had to make a payment on the room in order to get by the desk. I had the clerk phone for a taxi. As soon as I was in it and pulling away from the hotel, I began to relax a little. Things were going my way at last. I hoped they would continue to go as well.