The elevator traveled ninety-five stories in less time than it takes to count that high. The doors opened. I stepped into an enormous restaurant in the sky.
The maitre d’ led me to Pelón’s table, which was right next to a floor-to-ceiling window on the southern side of the restaurant. Pelón chewed an unlit cigar and reflected the low light of the restaurant with his white suit. Tony sat across from him and stared into a beer.
I stood at the edge of the table. “What up, putas?”
Pelón took the cigar out of his mouth. “We was ready to order without you. Why you so late?”
I looked at Tony and pointed to the empty seat next to Pelón. “Move. I want to sit across from the two lovebirds.”
Tony made a face, but moved next to Pelón. I took my seat and looked at the two of them, side by side. Tony should’ve looked good. He wore a fine maroon dress shirt. His goatee looked neat, and he’d gotten a cut and combed what was left of his hair. He wasn’t jumpy like he had been in the church that day when he was sweating vampires. But the bags under his eyes were full. And the eyes themselves were empty.
I ordered a scotch on the rocks and grabbed a breadstick. “So, Pelón? You called for a sit-down. What’s your big announcement?”
Pelón chewed the cigar tip. “Children always want dessert first. You know the most important people in this city eat up here?”
I dusted the shoulder on my black leather sport coat. “I’m here, ain’t I? But this isn’t a social visit.”
“Tranquilo. Let’s order dinner and have a little somesing to drink. I know you never seen a view like this.”
We were at the northern end of the Magnificent Mile, ninety-five floors up, facing south. The enormous cluster of skyscrapers that form the core of the city dominated the night with their constellations. The metropolis stretched away in a flawless grid. I ordered a rib-eye steak, medium well.
When we were finished eating, Pelón leaned in and lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Antonio told you about the casino, no?”
“He mentioned you were putting something together.”
Pelón grinned. “The plan is ready.” His eyes creased. He rolled the cigar in his mouth.
I leaned in. “You need me to get a pencil or something? Shoot.”
“You, Antonio, my brother, Cabezón, from Puerto Rico gonna be the crew. You go on a casino boat. It gonna take a cruise.”
“A cruise? To where?”
“No place. Up the river. Is just an excuse to gamble.”
“The boat comes to a point where it turns to go back to port. The turnaround is always at the same spot, same location. The river gotta be deep enough. It’s a pretty big boat. Happens at the same time too: one hour, twenty-five minutes into the cruise.”
“Why should I care, Pelón?”
“That’s the mark. Five minutes before the turn, you gonna get everybody’s attention. You gonna announce the stickup.”
“I am?”
“Yes. You, Antonio, and my brother gonna handle bags and guns. You each gonna show you weapons. They gotta believe you freaking crazy, like you looking for an excuse to shoot somebody. Everybody gotta know this is a stickup. My brother and Antonio gonna collect the money. This is gonna be a special cruise for high rollers. Average bet gonna be a thousand dollars a hand, minimum. Believe me, the cash gonna flow.”
“What exactly is my role?”
“You gonna keep the peace, Eddie. That’s you specialty, right? ‘Cool Hand Luke’? You run the operation and keep everybody on ice.”
“A babysitter?”
“You the boss on the scene.”
“What happens once the bags are filled? We’ll be out in the middle of the river.”
Pelón smiled and wiggled his eyebrows. “You gonna love this. They got a little boat, a motorboat that hang off the back of the ship. They call it a dinghy. They use this thing to ride around the casino boat, when they tie the big boat to the shore.”
“Exacto. You three gonna get on this boat and come to shore. I’ll be in the car right there, waiting.”
“We’re just gonna jump into the little boat and ride it to shore?”
“Sí.”
“Who knows how to work that thing?”
“My brother live his whole life on the Island,” said Pelón. “Believe me, he knows boats. But there’s gonna be a kid on board who really knows. That’s this kid’s job to lower the dinghy to the water, start it, drive it. He gonna do this for you.”
“What if he doesn’t wanna cooperate?”
“Por favor.” Pelón used the two fingers of his claw to tip his martini glass and drain it. “If that boy say no to you, my brother gonna shoot that pile of mierda right through the palm of his left hand. After that, this freaking boy’ll push his mother off a cliff just to please you.”
I made eye contact with Tony. I turned back to Pelón. “How come you get to drive, Pelón, while everybody else does the dirty work?”
Pelón raised his cane to remind me of his condition. “With this hip? I slow you down. My brother, he’s in good shape. He help carry the money.”
I turned the ice in my scotch. “So that’s it, Pelón? That’s your master plan?”
“¿Cómo te parece?”
“Stupid. Destined to fail.”
Pelón’s grin fizzled. “How can you say that? You never even been on the boat.”
“That plan’ll never work.”
“¿Por qué?”
“First of all, you know there’s gonna be cameras everywhere. Even if you get away, your picture’ll be all over the news.”
“I gonna get you a disguise.”
“What? Ski masks?”
“No,” said Pelón. “We doing this on Halloween. They having a party on the boat. You gonna be in a Halloween costume.”
Tony finally sat up. “Costumes? Really, Pelón? Can I go as Dracula?”
Pelón said, “Shhh! You wanna call the chief of police and let him know?”
Tony slumped like a dog that hears the door open, only to realize he isn’t going anywhere.
I shook my head. “Halloween costumes? Where’d you get that idea? One of them stupid movies?”
“Is gonna work this time.”
“No it isn’t. The casino must have an alarm system. Armed guards? Two-way mirrors? Undercover officers? A safe or two where they keep the real money? Think about it, Pelón. Someone on the other end of that boat’ll be on a cell phone with police before one penny gets put into one bag. It’s too sloppy.”
“Trust me, there’s no cops close to where you getting off. Is out in the middle of nothing, nowhere. Farms. Woods. By the time police get there, we lost.”
“And the armed guards?”
“They have none. I been on that boat a thousand times. I never see no armed guard.”
“They must be undercover.”
“There’s gonna be one state trooper in plainclothes on that boat. That’s it.”
“How do you know this for sure, Pelón? Another one of your dingbats on the inside?”
“I do has a connection on that boat. She a blackjack dealer, but she no gonna be on that cruise, she on vacation.”
“Remember how well your connect worked last time?”
“Nene, I don’t gotta explain caca to you. Last time you wanted to do things you own way, and look what happened.” Pelón held up his damaged hand and gritted his dentures so that we made no mistake that he referred to his own injury. “I’m telling you there’s only one trooper on board that boat—one—and that’s it.”
Tony said, “Well, you know he’s gonna be armed.”
“That’s true, pero his only mission gonna be for you not to hurt nobody. He no gonna care about nothing else, believe me. Eddie gonna take a hostage to start the show. With you gun pointed at somebody’s head? And these other two, Antonio and my brother, waving guns too? Even if he think he’s Clint fucking Eastwood, he no gonna make a move.”
“Your plan depends on me taking hostages, Pelón?”
“Just for show, Eddie, take it easy. Is an insurance policy.”
I shook my head. “You’re so off, it’s almost comical. I’m not doing that.”
“Why not? You not gonna hurt nobody.”
I looked at Tony.
Pelón made an annoyed sound. He turned his face toward the window and drew his hand to indicate the entire city. “Eddie, you see this? You see how straight this city looks? Perfect lines, back and forth, up and down? You think that happen by accident?”
“You like details. That’s smart. I always like that about you. That’s why you gonna be perfect for this. But don’t worry, nobody on that boat is gonna stop you. They got insurance for this. And when they see the cañones? That gonna be the only thing they worry about: to give you everything you want until you take you guns and go.”
The waiter came and took Pelón’s card. Pelón lifted the toothpick with the two olives from his empty martini glass and pulled the olives from the pick with his dentures. He made a big production of chewing, then spit the pits back into the empty glass, one by one. Finally, he dropped the toothpick in. “¿Bueno, señor? ¿Satisfecho?”
I leaned back in my seat. “Really, Pelón. I’ll take a pass.”
Pelón’s face contorted. “¿Cómo? But why?”
“It sounds dangerous and stupid.”
Pelón ground his dentures. “I just tole you. I really thought about this.”
“There’s eight million ways it could go wrong. None of us have the experience or expertise to pull this off. Besides, I’m still young. Maybe you forgot what that’s like. I just got out of a dungeon. I got too much to look forward to.”
“Like what? That piece-of-shit job Antonio told me about? You ain’t going nowhere with that.”
“Watch your mouth, Pelón.”
His tone grew more forceful. “We need a fourth man.”
“Find one.”
“No.” He shook his head. “It has to be you.”
“Why?”
Pelón rolled the cigar in his mouth. His eyes dug in. “You already know too much. We can’t just let you walk away now.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“You should know by now, I don’t make threats.”
I looked at Tony. Either his mind was really on some other planet, or he did an excellent job of pretending not to notice the icicles forming over the table. I looked back at Pelón.
“I told Tony when he first mentioned this bullshit fantasy that I had no bones to make with either of you. You clowns wanna play stagecoach, get your fuckin’ heads blown off, get locked up, be my guest. I wish you well. Somebody asks, I say squat. I fuckin’ zip it. They get the rubber hoses out, the water torture, the little black box with the electric current, and I will take it. I already have. Tony knows I can keep a secret better’n anyone. So should you.”
Pelón narrowed his eyes.
I focused. “But hear me, Pelón: if you think you’re gonna get me to play your game by making threats, think again. And bring along something other than that cane. That ain’t no elephant tusk. And I ain’t in no motherfucking wheelchair.”
Pelón looked stunned. His mouth hung open. Tony stared out the window. Fireworks began at Navy Pier, and we had the strange advantage of seeing them from up above the explosions. Pelón searched for something to say. I stood to leave and was just about to wish the two of them a bon voyage when the waiter returned, looking embarrassed.
Pelón blasted him a dirty one. “What’s your problem?”
The waiter returned Pelón’s card. In a fey French accent, he said, “I’m sorry, sir, perhaps you have some other form of payment. Your debit card has been declined.”