Short Straw

Sixteen

CUPIE CLOSED HIS CELL PHONE AND WALKED BACK toward the cab. He'd had to move down the block to get a good signal, and he hadn't been watching the car while he talked to Eagle. As he approached, he could see the driver, but he couldn't see anybody in the backseat. He stuck his head in the front passenger window. "Where'd the man and the woman go?" He asked the driver.

"I dunno, senor. The woman got out of the car and ran, and the man ran after her. Senor, could you pay me, please? I got to make a living."

Cupie shoved some money at him, got his, Vittorio's and Barbara's bags out of the car and found some shade. He couldn't see either one of them anywhere, and he wasn't going to try and find them, what with a bum shoulder and three suitcases to take care of. He sat down on one of the bags and waited.

Vittorio came around a corner, his hat off, wiping his brow.

"What happened?"

"She ran on me," Vittorio said. "She went into the police station, where I didn't want to follow her, and when I finally did, she was gone; she'd run out a side door into an alley, and I wasn't able to find her."

"Right," Cupie said, trying not to sound nasty. He opened his cell phone and called Eagle. "We've got a problem," he said into the phone, and then he explained what happened.

Eagle was annoyed but calm. "Now what?"

"Now we track her down," Cupie said. "We've got her luggage, so all she's got are the clothes on her back and her handbag. One thing we could do, is I could file a complaint with the police for her shooting me, and we might get some help."

"What the hell, do it," Eagle said, "and keep in touch."

Cupie closed the phone. "I'm going to file a complaint," he said, picking up Barbara's bag and handing it to Vittorio. "Hold this; I want to see what's inside."

Vittorio cradled the case in his arms while Cupie went through it. Underwear, clothes, shoes, no documents. "Nothing of any use," he said. "I was hoping, maybe, for a bank book."

"Let's see if she's at the bank," Vittorio said.

"Good idea. You know which bank?"

Vittorio shook his head.

"Tell you what, you work both sides of the street, here, check all the banks, and I'll go talk to the boys at the el copo shopo."

Vittorio nodded.

"And take your bag and hers, will you? I can't handle more than mine."

Vittorio slung his own bag over his shoulder by its strap and pulled out the handle on Barbara's suitcase, so it would roll. "I'll meet you back here in a few minutes," he said.

Cupie nodded and went into the police station. Using his serviceable Spanish, he asked for the captain and was immediately shown to an office behind the front desk.

"Buenos dias," the captain said. He was a plump man with the inevitable Pancho Villa moustache. "How may I help you, senor?" he said in good English.

Cupie handed the man his LAPD I.D. and his card. "I am a retired Los Angeles detective sergeant, now working as a private investigator," he said. "My client's wife stole money from him and left for Mexico City. When I found her there, she shot me with a small handgun." He reached into his pocket and produced the.25 automatic he had taken from Barbara, along with its magazine. "It's unloaded."

The captain racked the little slide and set the gun down, satisfied. "You wish her to be arrested?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

"Somewhere in Puerto Vallarta. She ran from my partner."

The captain nodded, reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a two-sided form. He asked Cupie an interminable list of questions, laboriously entering the information in the spaces provided, then asked Cupie to sign it.

Cupie signed. "If you find her, I'll take her off your hands," he said. "And my client would be very grateful to you, personally."

"How grateful, senor?"

"I might be able to persuade him to be grateful this much," Cupie said, holding up five fingers. "Big ones."

The captain nodded. "Where may I reach you?" Cupie gave the man his cell phone number, shook his hand and left.

Outside, Vittorio was waiting in a dusty taxi. Cupie tossed his bag into the trunk and got in.

"You think the policia will be of any use?"

"I promised him five grand," Cupie said. "He knows the town better than I do. How about you?"

"Better than me, too."

"I take it you had no luck at the banks."

"Oh, I did, in the third bank I visited. She closed her account and took twenty-five grand in dollars and the rest in thousand-dollar cashier's checks."

"So much for Eagle's getting his hands on the three hundred grand. He told me to tell her he'd do that, if she didn't sign. I take it she didn't sign?"

Vittorio tipped his hat down over his eyes and ignored the question. "She rented a Jeep Grand Cherokee and asked for a map and directions to Acapulco."

"You think she actually went there?"

"She left a ten-thousand-dollar deposit and was told she could get a refund of her change at the firm's Acapulco office. I don't think the lady is the type to go somewhere else in those circumstances, do you?"

"I guess not," Cupie said. "Driver, the airport."

"That's what I figured."

"We'll beat her there," Cupie said, resting his head against the seat back and sighing deeply. He got out his cell phone and reported to Ed Eagle.