Out of Sight

TWELVE

Adele had the chain on the door and spoke to Karen through the narrow opening.

"I've already told the FBI anything I know about it I saw on TV or read in the paper. I haven't heard from Jack or have any idea where he is.

Why would I?

We've been divorced eight years."

"He talked about you," Karen said, "in the car."

Adele hesitated.

"You were with them?"

"You might say I got in the way," Karen said, "so they put me in the trunk of my car. Then Jack got in with me. I thought the FBI might've told you."

"You were both in the trunk?"

"From Glades to the turnpike. But then as soon as I was in Glenn's car he took off, left them standing there." Karen watched Adele's face in the opening, freshly made up, heavy on the eye shadow and lip gloss.

"They didn't tell you that, either?"

"They didn't tell me anything, they asked questions."

"But you know what I'm talking about? Glenn driving the second car?"

Adele stared. She said, "I know a Glenn." The door closed and opened again, all the way.

"I'm getting ready to go out. You can come in if you want, sit down for a minute. Would you like a Diet Coke?"

Karen said no thanks, looking around at the art deco resort hotel decor. She turned a chair from the glass top table and sat down as Adele came out of the kitchenette with a Diet Coke and a pack of cigarettes: Adele wearing a polyester makeup coat hanging partly open, panties but no bra, and clear-plastic mules. Karen saw her as a size 10, her body soft and white, a bit plump but good legs, dark curly hair … She said to Karen, "Those are cute shoes. The land of jobs I get, I have to wear these killer spikes, they ruin your feet." She walked away and came back with an ashtray.

"When you were in the trunk with Jack…"

Karen waited while she lighted a cigarette.

"He didn't hurt you or anything, did he?"

"You mean, did he try to jump me? No, but he was kind of talkative."

Adele sat down at the other end of the table.

"You mentioned, he said something about me?"

Karen was ready.

"He said the reason he came to Florida was to see you. So I guess you spent some time together."

"Well, yeah, before he was arrested."

"But you didn't visit him in prison."

"He didn't want me to."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. He was different after he was sentenced, looking at thirty years."

"But you spoke to him on the phone."

"He'd call every once in a while."

"He called the day he escaped," Karen said.

Adele stared at her.

"He did? I don't remember. What else did he say about me?"

Karen had to think of something.

"He said he wished the two of you could start over, live a normal life."

"Bless his heart. I'll say one thing for Jack, he was never ugly or mean, or drank too much. His idea of a normal life, though, was robbing banks. It's all he's ever done."

"Did you know that when you married him?"

"He said he was a card player, how he made his money. I could live with that. Or he'd come home with a bundle and say he was out to the track, Santa Anita, and I suppose sometimes he was, he liked to gamble.

I never knew he robbed banks till he got caught with that car that wouldn't start-if you can imagine something like that happening, comes out of the bank and the car won't start. I did go see him at Lompoc-I guess you know he did time there-to tell him I was filing for divorce.

He said"-Adele shrugged-"okay. Jack's so easygoing. He was fun, but never what you'd call a real husband."

"He met Buddy at Lompoc," Karen said.

"Yeah, and Glenn, the creep." She squinted at Karen through cigarette smoke.

"Why isn't there anything about him in the paper?"

"They don't know where he is," Karen said, "and I guess they don't want to have to admit it." She said, "It looks like Glenn took off by himself."

"The weasel. You know what I wish? You could put him away and forget about Jack. He doesn't deserve thirty years."

"I'd give anything to find Glenn," Karen said.

"I had him in custody once; he sure loves to talk."

"Yeah, about himself, what a cool guy he is. He said he's lined up a job and was gonna use Jack and Buddy. Fat fucking chance."

"What kind of job?"

"He didn't say." Adele paused to smoke.

"The only reason I met him, he was a friend of Jack's at one time, and that's all I'm saying."

"And I guess you met Buddy."

"You can guess all you want, I can't help you. I have to finish dressing anyway, I'm seeing a man about a job. He claims he's a magician, only he's Latin and I have my doubts about him. You know I worked for a magician?"

"Emil the Amazing?"

"Yeah, the prick. This guy that called, he goes, "How do you do that sawing of the woman in half trick?" I go, "Are you kidding?" I should've said it's not a trick it's an illusion. He said he was testing me to see if I was experienced."

"What I can't figure out," Karen said, "is how the two halves of the box can be separated while you're in it, and you see your head in one and your feet in the other, moving."

"It's magic," Adele said.

"Or the one, the girl gets in the cage," Karen said, "it's covered, the cover comes off-" "You spin the cage around first," Adele said.

"You spin the cage around, the cover comes off and the girl's gone and there's a tiger inside."

"Emil does it with a lion."

"Get out of here."

"A male we'd rent for the evening. An old one, but still had a lot of teeth."

"How do you do it?"

Adele shook her head.

"I can't tell you, it would be unethical."

"I'm just curious," Karen said, "I won't tell anybody."

Adele said, "Have you ever heard or read about how illusions are done?

No, because it's a secret. It's the way they're done, that's what it's all about. How isn't that interesting."

"Did you ever tell Jack?"

Adele took time to draw on her cigarette.

"Once in a while he'd ask. I might've told him about some of the easy ones."

"How do you do the switch with the lion?"

"If I tell you, you'll be disappointed. It's always simpler than it looks."

"Come on, just that one. I won't ask you about anything else."

"No more about Jack or those guys?"

"I'll leave you alone," Karen said.

"You promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I swear. Cross my heart," Karen said, facing Adele sitting at the end of the table. Karen saw her about to speak and saw her jump at the sound of three quick raps on the door, three and three more and a voice then from outside, in the hole.

"Adele? I want to speak with you, please."

Sounding far away.

Karen watched Adele turn her head.

"Who is it?"

"I'm the man call you about work."

"I said I'd meet you."

"Look, I'm here. Open the door."

"I'm not dressed."

He said, "Listen to me." And in a lower voice, "I'm a good frien' of Jack Foley."

Karen got to her feet, bringing her bag to the edge of the table. She saw Adele staring at her and said, "Ask him his name."

Adele turned her head again, the rest of her rigid, upright in the chair, her cigarette held in front of her between two fingers.

"Who are you?"

There was a pause.

"Jose Chirino."

Karen brought her Beretta out of the bag.

"Or maybe you hear Jack Foley call me Chino. I'm the same person."

Karen moved along the table to Adele. She said, barely above a whisper, "Tell him to wait in the hall, you have to get dressed. Say it loud, raise your voice."

She did, yelled it out and her words covered the sound of Karen racking the slide on the 9-millimeter pistol.

The voice outside the door said, "Tell me where is Jack Foley, I don't bother you no more."

Karen said, "Tell him you don't know."

She did, and Chino said, "Listen, I'm the one help Jack escape from prison. He tole me, I can't find him to see you."

"I said I don't know where he is."

"Listen, why don't you open this fucking door. Okay? So we can speak."

Staring at Karen, Adele said, "Go away, or I'll call the police."

"Why you want to do that, to a frien'?"

Adele didn't answer and there was a silence.

Now he said, "Okay, you don't want to help me, I'm leaving."

Adele started to get up and Karen put her hand on her shoulder.

"I'm going now," Chino said.

"I see you maybe some time, okay? Bye bye."

In her whisper Karen said, "Go in the bedroom and close the door." She waited until Adele was crossing the room before she moved to the apartment door and put her left hand on the knob.

Karen turned it, held the lock open and looked over her shoulder.

Adele, in her makeup coat and plastic mules, was watching from the bedroom doorway. Karen motioned to her, waving the Beretta, to get in there, go on. But Adele didn't move. She stood watching and it was too late now to say anything to her. Karen brought the door toward her, opening it a few inches, listening, then stepped aside, out of the way, a moment before the door banged open and Chino, a solid figure in black, was in the room, Chino going for Adele and was past the table when he stopped, glanced around and then turned to Karen and she saw the gun in his right hand, the.22 pistol, its slender barrel pointing down, close to his leg. Karen brought up the Beretta in two hands, cocked it and put the front sight on his chest.

She said, "Lay it on the table and turn around."

Chino raised his left hand to her saying, "Wait," frowning.

"You not Adele?"

"I'm a federal marshal," Karen said, "and you're under arrest. Put the gun on the table. I mean now."

"For what? I haven' done nothing. If you not Adele," Chino said,

"this must be Adele, uh?" He turned to face her.

And now Karen was looking at him in profile, the pistol in his right hand, away from her. She glanced at Adele.

"Go in the room."

Adele didn't move, staring at Chino.

"Do it. And close the door."

Adele started to turn as Chino said, "No, I come to see you."

He raised the pistol, aiming it point-blank at Adele, and she stopped.

Karen said, "Put it down or I'll shoot."

She watched him look past his shoulder at her, raising his eyebrows, saying, "Oh, is that right? You going to shoot me?

Nice girl like you?" Smiling at her as he said, "No, I don't think so."

That little smile hooked her.

Karen said, "You don't huh?" and started toward him and saw his expression change, the smile gone, saw him glance at Adele, still holding the pistol on her, then look back this way again at Karen moving toward him, Karen saying, "You can live or die," as she reached him and put the Beretta in his face, the muzzle inches from his eyes.

"It's up to you."

His eyes closed for a moment and opened, looking at Karen's eyes past the muzzle.

"You wouldn't shoot me… Would you?"

She said, "What do you want to bet?"

He said, "I could walk out of here."

She said, "If you move, if you look at her again, you're dead."

They stared at each other. She saw him let his breath out, his shoulders sag and saw him lower his arm and heard the pistol hit the carpet and she almost looked down, but continued to stare at his face, his eyes dull now, beyond hope.

"Turn around and put your hands on the edge of the desk."

When he was leaning against it, off balance, Karen raised his jacket, felt around his waist from behind and, when she was finished, kicked his feet out from under him. Chino dropped to his knees, grabbing for the desk and hitting his head on the edge. He looked up at her in pain.

"I think you would shoot me."

Karen picked up his gun and told him to lie facedown on the floor. She stepped around him to the desk, punched a number on the phone and looked over at Adele staring at her.

"Daniel Burdon, please. Karen Sisco."

She waited, Adele still watching her, then turned to the window as she said, "Daniel? I've got a proposition for you."