I HAD MAYBE THREE HOURS to kill. I spent almost an hour on the guns. You wouldn’t think that much could be done to a couple of simple, double-action short-barreled .38s, but it could. Neither of them had been used in quite a while. I cleaned them, and oiled them and wiped them down, and checked all the moving parts, the cylinder swing-outs, the trigger pulls. Then I did a couple of other little things. For what I wanted. For the kind of fight I expected, and hoped I would be in control of. If there was any fight at all.
I had once been an ardent student of ballistics and trajectory. I easily found enough tools in Con Taylor’s kitchen tool drawer for what I wanted to do.
It was kind of a long shot, my plan. My plan for Kirk. It was one of those dime-novel tricks. But it ought to work. Especially if Jane Duval did her part right, it would work.
I still couldn’t be sure she would not tell Kirk I was coming. But the beauty of my plan was that it would work whether she told him or not. It would still work, even if she told him.
I put the guns in one of those little airline satchels that was lying around the house and stowed them on board the boat. I found Sonny, and told him I would want him and the boat a little later. Then I went back to the house.
I sat on my porch a while. I was too keyed up to read. I didn’t want to drink any more, not with the job I had in front of me. Finally I remembered my precipitate departure from Chantal last night, and went in and called her.
“How are you feeling?” I said when the maid finally got her on the phone.
“I’m feeling all right,” she said. “Is there any reason I should not be?”
“No,” I said. “None at all. What are you doing?”
“I’m sitting in bed, having my mango with lemon juice, and my tea. And reading yesterday’s two-day-old paper that was brought to me this morning. The sun is shining in my window.”
I remembered there was a phone extension in the bedroom. “Sounds great.”
“It is great.”
I remembered that at one point she had lied to me again last night. Something about Kronitis. About how Kronitis inveigled her into becoming his carrier.
“You remember what we talked about last night?” I said.
Her voice got guarded. “Yes?”
“Well, how long does it take them to process the stuff, once they’ve got it here?” I didn’t want to tell her I’d seen them bring it in last night.
“They can do it very fast,” Chantal said. “If they really work at it. I don’t actually know. Why? You’re not thinking of trying to catch them?”
“Me? No. I’m no narcotics man,” I said. “The only thing I’m after is that killer.”
“That girl certainly did something to you,” she said. Her voice sounded plaintive. “I wish I could do something like that to you.”
Get yourself killed, I thought grimly, and you can.
“Well, you can rest assured Jim is not the person you want,” Chantal said. “That I can assure you. I know he would never do something like that.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I said. “Listen, you lied to me again last night.”
“I did? I lied to you?”
“Yes. Something about Kronitis. I didn’t understand what. But I noticed it.”
There was a pause. “Well, I see no reason why I should have to tell you everything, if I don’t want to. You don’t work for me any more, remember?”
“Do they have a phone out there?” I said patiently.
“No. There are no telephones in outlying houses that far from town. Why?”
“But Kronitis has a phone.”
“I’m not planning on calling him today, if that’s what you mean,” Chantal said.
“Good,” I said. “Don’t. Look. The real reason I called you was to tell you I dreamt about you last night.”
“Oh?” her voice got slower. “What kind of dream?”
“It was a silly dream,” I said. “You were going to jail.”
“And you couldn’t help me?” she said.
“Look, if you want out of this thing, I’ll find some way to get you out,” I said. “If you really want out of it, I’ll get you out of it. For good.”
“Well,” she said thoughtfully. She drew the Well out. “How would you do that?”
“I don’t know yet. But I’ll do it.”
“I would like out of it,” Chantal said.
“Okay. That’s all I called about. Look. I’ll talk to you later in the day. I’ve got to go somewhere. Try and keep your mouth shut about all this stuff. Try.”
“It would do me no good anywhere to talk about it, that I can see.”
“Fine. I’ll call you later. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, darling.”
I hung up. That Darling wasn’t the sincerest Darling I’d ever had thrown at me. But then I remembered I had received no call from Pekouris in Athens, about the news of Chuck and his machete which I had planted with her, and with Kirk. That meant neither of them had called it in to Kronitis. Or did it? That Pekouris was such a slippery character.
I went back out on my porch and sat down. I wanted a drink. But I wouldn’t let myself have it.
I killed another hour over lunch at the taverna. I didn’t eat much. I trained on Scotches, but only a couple that I sipped, making them last a long time. Red wine was no good. It slowed up the reflexes. Scotch could heighten the reflexes, if you took only a little, and didn’t take it too long before.
After lunch I figured it was time. I had a second coffee. Then I went and got Sonny.
I had told him to stay around, that I would be wanting him, and he was down by the boat, squatting in the dirt in the hot sun and talking to several of the old Greek men who sat all day in chairs out in front of the taverna playing with their Greek beads. Watch out for the beads, some Greek my own age I had met had warned me, laughing; when you buy the beads that means you are old. You sit in front of the taverna and play with the beads, you are old man.
Sonny and the old men were laughing. It was a sleepy, sun-lazy summer afternoon; people were still drinking their after-lunch wine at the taverna tables.
I took Sonny on board the Daisy Mae, and took him back to the stern where nobody could overhear us.
“I’m going over to that villa to pick up Jim Kirk,” I told him, very slowly. “I’d like for you to go with me. We know he’s there. I’m going to perform a citizen’s arrest on him, or whatever they call it in Greece. But I’m going to need somebody to help me.”
The deep wrinkles around his eyes squinched up at me, and the thick Elliot Gould mustache twitched.
“Won’t Kirk be on his guard, over there?”
“Well, I think I’ve done something that will help keep him occupied,” I said.
“There’s two other men there, though,” Sonny said.
I nodded. “I think I can get them locked up in that cellar. If it all works out like I’m hoping. But maybe it won’t,” I said, very slowly. I didn’t want to get him all excited. I didn’t want to get myself excited. I looked at him.
Sonny only nodded, warily.
“I know you’re a stupid ass,” I said slowly, “and can hardly find your way out of a paper bag. I know you’re supposed to hate violence. But I’ve no one else to turn to. And I want someone to cover me. I’ll do all the dangerous work. At least, as much as I can.”
Sonny stared at me a long moment. “You’re taking him in for the heroin?”
I nodded.
“Or for the killing of Girgis?”
“That, too. I’m convinced he did it. I have been for quite a while. And now I’ve got proof that he did. I’ve been getting surer and surer that this kid Chuck didn’t do it. Now, do you want to go, or don’t you? If not, give me the goddamned keys and I’ll go alone.”
I thought I had him figured right. He didn’t even answer. For answer, he turned his back and went to the motor hatch and started the motor.
I went forward to cast us off.
After we rounded the little lighthouse, and passed the low roofs of Georgio’s taverna on our right, I ordered Sonny to stop the boat along a deserted stretch of the coast. We were maybe a quarter of a mile out.
I went below and got the little satchel and brought it up and opened it, and handed him one of the guns.
“Now, do you know how to handle one of those things? I don’t want you to shoot yourself in the belly or blow off your foot.” I stuck the other one in my belt.
He took it, and looked at it. It was a standard snub-nosed .38 Police Special, the twin of mine.
“Well, I learned how to use a gun in the ROTC in school, but in principle I am very much against the use of firearms,” Sonny said stiffly.
“Well, this may very well be a case of your ass or Kirk’s,” I snarled. “And using an Army rifle in the ROTC is a whole lot different from shooting a pistol.”
“I fired the .45.”
“Is that all?”
“Well, I’ve shot a few other pistols. For fun. On a range.”
I looked around. I grabbed up an empty 5 gallon gas can that was sitting by the motor hatch, and tossed it out over the side maybe six or seven yards. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one,” I said. “Here. Let’s see you take a shot at that.”
Sonny looked at the little gun again, then leveled it and sighted a long moment, then fired. The slug hit the can at the water line, and there was a “Plowww!” from the water. The gas can began to sink. Actually, it wasn’t at all bad.
“All right,” I said, and nodded. “That’s not too bad. It’ll have to do. Okay, let’s get on with it. Here, give me the gun and I’ll slip another round in it.” I took it while he started the motor and turned into the shade and slid another shell in it and gave it back to him.
“What about reloading?” Sonny said.
“Don’t worry,” I grinned. “If you get to where you have to do any reloading, it will already be far far too late.”
He stared at me.
“Don’t get nervous,” I said. “I’m hoping we won’t have to use these things at all. It’s only a precaution, really. Here, give me the helm. Let me run it the rest of the way in.”