Windmills of the Gods

‘Oh.’ She nodded indifferently. ‘I’ll ass’ Angel.’ Her voice was beginning to slur even more. ‘Wha’ you say the man’s name is?’

He wanted to shake her. ‘Groza. Marin Groza.’

‘Yeah. My baby’s outta town. I’ll call him tonight ’n meet you here tomorrow. Kin I have ’nother rum?’

Neusa Muñez was turning out to be a nightmare.

The following evening, Harry Lantz sat at the same table in the bar from midnight until four in the morning, when the bar closed. Muñez did not appear.

‘Do you know where she lives?’ Lantz asked the bartender.

The bartender looked at him with innocent eyes. ‘Quien sabe?’

The bitch had fouled everything up. How could a man who was supposed to be as smart as Angel get hooked up with such a rum dummy? Harry Lantz prided himself on being a pro. He was too smart to walk into a deal like this without first checking it out. He had cautiously asked around, and the information that impressed him most was that the Israelis had put a price of a million dollars on Angel’s head. A million bucks would buy a lifetime’s worth of booze and young hookers. Well, he could forget about that and he could forget about his $50,000. His only link to Angel had been broken. He would have to call The Man and tell him he had failed.

I won’t call him yet, Harry Lantz decided. Maybe she’ll come back here. Maybe the otherbars will run out of rum. Maybe I should have had my ass kicked for saying yes to this fucking assignment.

Chapter Six (#ulink_ee695bb2-3e64-5221-9f7d-cc2060c0abed)

The following night at eleven o’clock, Harry Lantz was seated at the same table in the Pilar, intermittently chewing peanuts and his fingernails. At 2 a.m. he saw Neusa Muñez stumble in the door, and Harry’s heart soared. He watched as she made her way over to his table.

‘Hi,’ she mumbled, and slumped into a chair.

‘What happened to you?’ Harry demanded. It was all he could do to control his anger.

She blinked. ‘Huh?’

‘You were supposed to meet me here last night.’

‘Yeah?’

‘We had a date, Neusa.’

‘Oh. I went to a movie with a girl frien’. There’s this new movie, see? Ess ’bout this man who falls in love with this fuckin’ nun an’ –’

Lantz was so frustrated he could have wept. What could Angel possibly see in this dumb, drunken bitch? She must have a golden pussy, Lantz decided. ‘Neusa – did you remember to talk to Angel?’

She looked at him vacantly, trying to understand the question. ‘Angel? Si. Kin I have a drink, huh?’

He ordered a double rum for her and a double Scotch for himself. He needed it desperately. ‘What did Angel say, Ñeusa?’

‘Angel? Oh, he say yeah. Ess okay.’

Harry Lantz felt a surge of relief. ‘That’s wonderful!’ He no longer gave a damn about his messenger boy mission. He had thought of a better idea. This drunken bitch was going to lead him to Angel. One million dollars reward money.

He watched her slop down her drink, spilling some of it down her already soiled blouse. ‘What else did Angel say?’

Her brow knit in concentration. ‘Angel, he say he wanna know who your people are.’

Lantz gave her a winning smile. ‘You tell him that’s confidential, Neusa. I can’t give him that information.’

She nodded, indifferent. ‘Then Angel say to tell you to fuck off. Kin I have a rum ’fore I go?’

Harry Lantz’s mind started working at top speed. If she left, he was sure he would never see her again. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Neusa. I’ll telephone the people I’m working for, and if they give me permission, I’ll give you a name. Okay?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’ care.’

‘No,’ Lantz explained patiently, ‘but Angel does. So you tell him I’ll have an answer for him by tomorrow. Is there some place I can reach you?’

‘I guess so.’

He was making progress. ‘Where?’

‘Here.’

Her drink arrived, and he watched her gulp it down like an animal.

Lantz wanted to kill her.

Lantz made the telephone call collect, so it could not be traced, from a public telephone booth on Calvo Street. It had taken him one hour to get through.

‘No,’ the Controller said. ‘I told you that no names are to be mentioned.’

‘Yes, sir. But there’s a problem. Neusa Muñez, Angel’s mistress, says he’s willing to make a deal, but he won’t move without knowing who he’s dealing with. Naturally, I told her I had to check it out with you first.’

‘What is this woman like?’

The Controller was not a man to play games with. ‘She’s fat and ugly and stupid, sir.’

‘It’s much too dangerous for my name to be used.’

Harry Lantz could feel the deal slipping away from him. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said earnestly. ‘I understand. The only thing is, sir, Angel’s reputation is based on his being able to keep his mouth shut. If he ever started talking, he wouldn’t last five minutes in his business.’

There was a long silence. ‘You have a point.’ There was another silence, even longer. ‘Very well. You may give Angel my name. But he is never to divulge it, and never to contact me directly. He’ll work only through you.’

Harry Lantz could have danced. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll tell him. Thank you, sir.’ He hung up, a big grin on his face. He was going to collect the $50,000.

And then the million-dollar reward.

When Harry Lantz met Neusa Muñez late that evening, he immediately ordered a double rum for her and said, happily, ‘Everything’s set. I got permission.’

She looked at him indifferently. ‘Yeah?’

He told her the name of his employer. It was a household word, and he expected her to be impressed.

She shrugged. ‘Never heard’a him.’

‘Neusa, the people I work for want this done as quickly as possible. Marin Groza is hiding out in a villa in Neuilly, and –’