Short Straw

Six

EAGLE COULDN'T BELIEVE HIS LUCK. "You bet your ass, I'd like to speak to her."

Cupie's voice became a little fainter; apparently he was holding out the phone to Barbara. "Excuse me, Mrs. Eagle," he was saying. "Yeah, you, sweetheart. Your husband would like to speak to you." Then Cupie sounded alarmed. "Hey, wait a minute, lady! You don't wanna…" Then there was a single, very loud noise.

Eagle took the phone away from his ear. "Jesus!" he said. "She shot him!"

"Are you sure?" Wolf asked.

"That was either a gunshot or a stick of dynamite," Eagle replied. "It was plenty loud." He put the phone back to his ear and listened. "Nothing," he said. "The connection was broken." He redialed Cupie's cell phone, but he was sent straight to voice mail.

"It's Eagle; call me." He hung up. "What the hell do I do now?" he asked.

LATER, BACK AT HOME, Eagle put the phone down. He had been trying to get hold of the Mexico City police for more than an hour, and finally he had gotten hold of a Colonel Ricardo. "The police can't find Cupie," he said to Wolf, who was sitting on the opposite sofa. "They searched the area near the hotel, and they couldn't find anybody matching his description, shot or not shot. They found some blood in an alley next to the hotel, but they're not even sure it's human."

"What else can you do?" Wolf asked.

"I've left a message for another guy I could send down there to look for him, but he hasn't returned my call. I talked with the local FBI guy, too, but he says they don't investigate shootings in Mexico, unless they involve U.S. officials, and Cupie isn't that. He's trying to get me a name in the federal police down there."

"I hope you're not thinking of going down there yourself," Wolf said.

"No. My experience with Mexico is limited to a single visit to Acapulco fifteen years ago, for Easter weekend, and I don't have the language. I'd be helpless."

"It's good that you know that. I'd go with you, but I'd be helpless, too."

Eagle's cell phone vibrated on his belt. He picked it up. "Hello?"

"It's Cupie." He sounded very tired.

"What happened, Cupie? I've had the Mexican cops looking for you."

"The bitch shot me, that's what happened! I was handing her the phone, and she pulled out this little gun, maybe a.25, and got off a round."

"Are you badly hurt?"

"I was in the process of ducking when she fired, and the bullet went right through that piece of flesh between my neck and my shoulder, you know? I bled like a stuck pig, but it wasn't too bad. I got back to my hotel and told the desk clerk I'd been robbed. He got me a doctor who, for an extra fifty, didn't see a need to call the cops. He patched me up and gave me a shot of penicillin and some Percodan. I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner."

"That's all right. You take it easy, you hear? If you've lost a lot of blood, you'll need time for your body to replace it."

"Aw, I didn't lose all that much; it just looked awful. People on the street ran from me until I could get a cab. You're gonna owe me for a new suit, though."

"Bill me. Now take a day or two off before you start moving around again."

"The first thing I'm gonna do is find me a piece. I'm not going after that lady unarmed, I'll tell you."

"I'm astonished to think she would do that; I would have warned you, if I'd thought she'd get violent. Was she alone?"

"Yeah, she was. I was sitting in the lobby for an hour or so-the desk clerk had told me she was upstairs, alone-and she came down and left the hotel. I followed her, and she turned into an alley and turned around to face me. That's when I called you."

"Let me know when you decide on your next move, Cupie. I take it your cell phone is still working."

"Yeah, I'm talking on it. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I'm gonna get some sleep."

"Good night, then." Eagle hung up. "He's all right," he said to Wolf.

"That's good news."

"Flesh wound; he's still on the job."

Wolf stood up. "Well, I'm going to go home and get some sleep; I've got to work tomorrow."

"So have I," Eagle said. "I've got to meet with a client."