Jungle Of Steel And Stone

Chapter Eleven

Veil waited, back braced against a tree trunk and hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, as Reyna slowly approached through a field of small, uniform grave markers. She looked pensive, Veil thought, but not as distraught as she had appeared earlier. Throughout the morning they had walked, together and apart, through Calvary Cemetery, with Veil playing a recording of Reyna's voice while Reyna called out—and sometimes sang—in the K'ung tongue. They had made no attempt to track Toby, only to announce their presence. Then Reyna, fearing that Veil's presence would frighten Toby, had gone off alone.

She had been gone almost an hour and a half, and from the way she walked, Veil felt certain she had found something.

"He's been here," Reyna announced as she came up to Veil, wrapped her arms around his middle, and rested her head on his chest. In her voice was relief, mingling with anxiety and fatigue.

"You're sure?" Veil asked.

"Yes," she said, freeing one arm, turning and pointing to the north. "He came in around Fifty-first Street, just below Queens Boulevard. I found one of his footprints on some bare ground. He's sick, so I guess he can't help being careless."

"That's good news," Veil said quietly. "Just so long as he doesn't become too careless."

"Um-hmm." Reyna again wrapped both arms around Veil, and he eased them both down until they were sitting on the ground. For a few minutes Veil thought the woman might be sleeping, but then her voice came to him, muffled slightly by the material of his light jacket. "I don't know whether or not he's seen any of my totems, but I saw one of his. It's a spirit-totem erected to show respect for the spirits in a place of the dead. Toby recognized this as a cemetery."

"But no sign of Toby himself?"

Veil felt Reyna shake her head. "I found the place where he went to ground. There's a stream beyond the woods behind me."

"I know. I saw it."

"That's where he rested—near the bank." She paused and looked up at Veil. "There were feces and vomit around the site, as you would expect," she continued with a slightly puzzled frown. "What's surprising is that the feces aren't as loose as you'd think they would be in somebody suffering from typhus or dysentery—or both. We know he's very sick and badly injured. Lord, the very fact that he can still walk at all is amazing. He must have a very high fever and be in terrible pain."

"It could be the heroin," Veil said as he absently stroked Reyna's hair.

"What?"

"The heroin, Reyna. Toby may have accidentally found how to use it in a way that can benefit him. It's true that it wouldn't take much of it to kill him, but it's also true that if he, say, sniffs a small amount at a time, he'll get the benefit of its medicinal properties. Heroin is an unbelievably potent anesthetic, of course, but it also tends to dehydrate. It would tighten his bowels somewhat. In this case, the crap inside that idol could be Toby's salvation— at least for a time."

"But how could he know to sniff it?"

Veil shrugged. "It comes from the Nal-toon, right? It's a divine gift, so he has to do something with it. It tastes like hell, so he must have tried smelling it and gotten some into his nose. Bingo."

"If that's true, Veil, then it's another miracle."

"Mmm. What do you think the chances are that he'll come back there?"

"No chance. If Toby intended to use that place again, he'd be there now—during the day. He was there last night, but he's someplace else now. Sick or not, Toby feels that he must keep moving as best he can." Reyna sighed, rose to her feet, and brushed off her jeans. "Rest time is over. I'm going ahead."

"Let me come with you," Veil said, rising. "I'm not the tracker you are, but I'm not bad."

"Indeed," Reyna replied impishly, rising up on her toes to kiss him. "You're not bad at anything. Still, you'd only frighten him, and I don't want you getting a spear in the belly button. Sick as he is, he probably hasn't gone far.

You wait here, I'll be back."

Veil glanced at his watch; it was almost six-thirty. He cursed softly under his breath, then set off at a quick pace through the field of grave markers. He passed through a stand of trees, jumped over a stream, and hurried toward the southeast end of the cemetery. He sighed with relief when he saw Reyna sitting on the edge of a low stone wall that marked the border of the cemetery. Behind her, traffic moved by on Fifty-eighth Street. Stripped of the muffling effect of the trees inside the cemetery, the air was filled with the groaning hum of rush-hour traffic on the Queens leg of the Long Island Expressway.

"I was worried about you," Veil said as he sat on the wall next to Reyna. "You've been gone all afternoon."

"I'm sorry," Reyna replied, squeezing Veil's hand. "I've been waiting. I think you passed Toby somewhere back there. I wanted to come back and get you, but I was afraid to take a chance that he might get spooked and slip out ahead of us at this end."

Veil raised his eyebrows slightly, then shaded his eyes from the slanting rays of the setting sun and looked back the way he had come. "You're sure he's still back there?"

"Not a hundred percent, maybe ninety. After I left you I did a quick walk-through to this end. I figured that if I found sign here, it would mean that he was still ahead of us and we wouldn't waste time looking any longer in this cemetery. Anyway, as you can see, there's a lot of bare ground down here at this end. I couldn't find any tracks."

"Granted that he's sick, hurt, and moving very carefully, it's still only a mile, maybe less, from the stream to here. You'd think he would have come farther during the night."

Reyna twisted around to look at the expressway and the embankment beyond. "I know. Just because I couldn't find sign doesn't mean that he's still back there."

"We still have a couple of hours of daylight left. If you want to go into Mount Olive and look around, I'll stand guard here."

"It's a thought," Reyna said absently.

"It's your decision, Reyna."

"We'll both wait here," Reyna announced decisively. "By the time I get started over there, it will be dark, anyway. I still believe he's behind us. If we spread out a bit and stay through the night, we may at least keep him contained here—and tomorrow I'll go back in and really start looking. We'll keep the tape recorder running. Do you think the batteries will last?"

"I have spares in my pocket." Veil paused, turned to Reyna. "It may be time to start thinking about what we're going to do with Toby after we find him."

Reyna looked away. "I haven't even tried to think that far ahead."

"I'm not sure I believe you, Reyna. Even assuming that we nab him before anybody else does, we still have big problems, don't we?"

"Yes," Reyna answered softly.

"The obvious first step is to turn him in to the police after we hide the idol somewhere. Then we mount the best possible legal defense, which I'm sure we can do considering the publicity Toby has generated."

"That's not the point, Veil."

"Prince Toby of the K'ung isn't going to fare too well when he comes up against our legal system, is he?"

"No." Reyna shuddered, then abruptly swept her hair back from her face in an almost defiant gesture. "There are two murder charges against him. The fact that Toby acted both times in self-defense and that there are extenuating circumstances won't help him escape a trial. The authorities will never allow him out on bail, which means that Toby could be required to spend months in a prison cell. And then he could get a prison sentence. He won't last a week in a cell, Veil. It will kill him. He'll be alone in a cage, in a place where nobody speaks his language. . . . Toby will simply refuse to eat or drink anything, and then the end will come very quickly. In his mind he will have failed, and the Nal-toon will be lost to his people forever. The will to live will drain out of him like water down a drain."

"And he could be right about the idol being lost to his people forever. Not a very happy ending."

Reyna heaved a deep sigh, then bowed her head. "Shit," she murmured dispassionately.

Veil put his hand under Reyna's chin and gently lifted her head. Her eyes were filled with tears. "We've looked at the problem and discussed it, as we had to," Veil said evenly. "We had to think a couple of steps ahead, but now it's only a waste of time to be distracted by future problems. You need to focus all your energy and concentration on finding Toby. You let me worry about what to do with him when you do, okay?"

Reyna stared into Veil's eyes for a few moments, then nodded and forced a smile. "Okay."

"Good!" Veil kissed Reyna on the forehead. "Now let's talk about important things. It could be a long night, and it's time to think about how to keep the members of this safari in good spirits."

This time Reyna's smile was genuine. "You're going for food?" "Right."

"I wondered when somebody was going to think about feeding the chief tracker of this expedition."

"I propose to pick up provisions from the jungle deli, which I'm sure is only a block or two away. What will the chief tracker have?"

"Roast beef on a roll—make that two—with lettuce, tomato, and mayo. Black coffee. And watch out for unfriendly natives; since you'll be carrying the provisions,

I don't want you to get mugged."

Veil ordered the sandwiches and coffee to go in a nearby delicatessen, then went to a pay phone in the corner. He dropped a quarter in the slot and dialed a number. Victor Raskolnikov answered on the third ring.

"Victor, it's Veil."

"Veil! I've been trying to get hold of you! Who's that strange man answering your phone?"

"A friend holding down the fort. Listen, Victor, I—"

"Have you found out anything?"

"Not over the phone, Victor. I have a strong suspicion there may be heavy ears slapped on to a few phones in the city. But I do have to talk to you."

"Okay," the Russian said evenly. "I understand. Say it the best way you can."

"Things are warming up, and they may come to a boil soon. I will have a few things to report to you."

"Excellent."

"You and I discussed the matter of compensation for my services, you may recall. I believe it will be barter, if that's agreeable to you."

"What do you need, my friend?"

"First let me give you some indication of what I want to do. I think you'd agree that even matters of vital importance can get tangled up in our legal system?"

"I agree."

"Assuming I can find the package we're mutually interested in, I'd like to dump the whole bundle in the sand—a direct drop. Anyone else interested in the package can go look for it there."

Raskolnikov's deep, booming laugh carried over the phone into the delicatessen, startling the man behind the counter, who had placed Veil's order on top of a glass display case. "I love it!" Raskolnikov barked.

"At the moment you might say I'm trapped in the bush, and I'm up to my ass in alligators. I need someone to man a control center and coordinate things. It's specialized work and time-consuming. Can you give me the time?"

"The time is yours," Raskolnikov answered uncertainly, "but I don't know much about these things."

"If you're agreeable, and if I get lucky with my quarters, a man with an ugly face, an ugly nickname, and a very beautiful heart will get in touch with you, perhaps as early as tonight. He'll know exactly what to do. You'll work together."

"It will be done, Veil."

"There's more. The ugly man will know how to take care of business, but the business may require some heavy financing. We're talking big bucks—cash—up front. I can see money down the road coming from the sale of exclusive rights to stories about the package, told by people who have been on the inside. It's exploitive, but I don't see any other way to buy all the sand we're going to need. In other words, I see no reason why you wouldn't be reimbursed, but the cash is going to be needed quickly."

"It will be done, Veil. You just concern yourself with the proper wrapping of the package. What you want is precisely what I want."

"I'll be in touch when I can, Victor. You'll stay by the phone?"

"I'm here."

"Thanks, Victor," Veil said, and hung up.

"Hey, pal!" the counterman called. "Your stuff's ready."

"In a minute," Veil said without turning, and dropped another quarter in the slot.

He spoke to his personal physician, then spent fifteen minutes on the phone talking to a friend he had not seen in six years. When he hung up, Veil was barely able to suppress laughter. The last number he dialed was his own.

"Veil Kendry's residence."

"It's me. Be careful what you say."

"Veil, darling! We've all been worried about you. Where have you been?"

"How are things?"

"No problems."

"Any calls? Be careful."

"A couple of miscellaneous items, Veil, but nothing you'd be interested in at the moment. Victor called."

"Got it."

"Also a couple of mystery guests—although it could have been the same person both times."

"Any clues?"

"The first mystery guest simply hung up. The phone rang again about five minutes later. There was music playing."

"Did you recognize it?"

"Verdi's Requiem."

Veil brought the food and coffee back to Reyna. A brief ripple of anxiety passed across her face when he told her that he had to leave for an hour or two and could not explain why, but she contented herself with asking him to return as quickly as possible.

Veil drove the rented car back into Manhattan, south to' Little Italy. He parked six blocks away from the church, in an underground garage. He left the garage through a rear emergency exit and walked two blocks before ducking into an alley and waiting. When he was satisfied that he was not being followed, he walked around the block, then headed toward the church as it began to grow dark. He entered the darkened sanctuary, paused, and listened. When he heard nothing, he slipped silently into the confessional booth.

"It's me," Veil said as the wooden panel in the partition slid back.

"So you got my message," the gravelly, broken voice said. "I was hoping that you'd know it was me and realize that it was important enough for you to come down."

"Yes. I'm sorry I took so long to get here. You've been waiting a long time."

"It's all right. God and I are old friends, and we've been talking. You recall mentioning a man by the name of Gabriel Vahanian?"

"Yes," Veil said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise. "He's Nagle's partner."

"Not anymore. He's dead."

"Nagle?"

"Yes. Nagle shot him in the ear with a Magnum. There are a lot of rumors on the street. Somebody did or said something to Nagle that pushed him over the edge at about the same time he found out that Vahanian had been assigned to spy on him. Yesterday the families made a decision to execute him, and he may have found out about that too. Whatever; the point is that he's on the run and off the leash. There are no controls on him anymore."

"I hear you, Father."

"It's come out that the idol is filled with heroin."

"Mm-hmm."

"It's white and pure; there's talk of the package being worth six or seven million dollars, depending on how it's cut.

"Does Nagle know about the heroin?"

"Probably. The information is on the street. His former employers speculate that he'll go after it on his own, since that kind of money is the only chance he has to survive. Nagle makes even these people nervous. A mad dog is not to be taken lightly, and it's rumored that Nagle has a large collection of very powerful weapons. You must be very careful, Veil."

"I will. Thank you very much, Father."

"Go with God, Veil."

"It s me."

"Veil, darling!"

"Your watch is over, Chuck. You get out of there and take the other guys off the street. Just lock up and split."

"What's the matter, Veil?" All traces of femininity had disappeared from the voice, replaced by the hard, tempered tone of a warrior.

"The guy I told you about is on the loose and over the edge. He doesn't have to play by any rules, and he's rumored to be carrying heavy artillery. He may well come gunning for me, and he'll blow up anybody or anything in his way. I won't be going back there until this thing is over, so I don't need you any longer."

"Do you want me to gather up your paintings and take them someplace safe?"

"No. Just get out of there. Tell the other guys I said thanks, and I'll be in touch."

"Veil, there must be something we can do to help."

"No, Chuck. I can handle it."

"Indeed you can. But be certain to take care, Veil."

"Thank you, friend."

"I've been worried about you," Reyna said, wrapping her arms around Veil and squeezing him hard. "A little scared, too, I guess."

"I'm sorry I had to leave you."

"Were you able to take care of your business?"

"It turned out to be a waste of time, nothing important. No sign of Toby, huh?"

"No."

"Why don't you sleep for a while, Reyna? I've got things covered now."

"I already took a nap." She reacted to Veil's look of surprise with a shrug. "If Toby can crawl and is determined to get past us, Veil, he will; he could make a shadow seem noisy, and we can't possibly cover everyplace down here he could slip through. We can only hope that he'll stay where he is and I'll find him, or that he'll react to my presence and come to me on his own. You sleep. I'll wake you if there's a need."

"Wake me in an hour. Tomorrow could be a long day. We'll take turns resting."