The Black Ice Score Page 4

  “All right,” said Parker.

  Gonor said something to the others and headed for the door. The others followed him, Formutesca stopping for a second in front of Parker to say, “It isn't really as sloppy as it sounds. And we are not the total amateurs you take us for.”

  “That's good,” Parker said.

  They went out. Parker shut the door after them, turned to Claire, and said, “Pack.”

  6

  “They're back,” Claire said.

  The Miami sun was straight overhead. They were having lunch in a glass-walled restaurant, the air inside cold and dry. Outside, pink and white cars with chrome slid by.

  Parker looked at her. “Who's back?”

  She nodded at the street. Parker looked that way, and through the glass he saw three men, black, short, dressed in slacks and short-sleeved shirts, standing out there. They were in a little cluster and they seemed to be talking to one another, but the one in the middle was looking directly at Parker. It was Gonor.

  Claire said, “I thought you talked to Handy.”

  “I did.” He'd called Handy before leaving New York and told him not to give his address to the people from Dhaba any more. But here they were.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I'll be back,” he said, and got to his feet and went out of the restaurant. The air outside was like dirty dishcloths. Parker walked through it to the three men, Gonor in the middle. Formutesca on the left, one of the other two from the first meeting on the right.

  Gonor was keeping most of the self-satisfaction from his smile. “Very hot today, Mr Parker.”

  “You put a tail on me.”

  “I'm afraid so, yes. Mr Formutesca here followed you when you left your hotel in New York.”

  Formutesca was letting all his self-satisfaction show. “We thought we hadn't made a good impression on you,” he said, “so you might decide to go away. And that's what you did.”

  “We were determined,” Gonor said, “to correct that impression. Keeping track of you was, you will admit, not sloppiness.”

  Parker nodded. “So?”

  “You will also notice,” Gonor said, “that we are one less than previously. We found our traitor.”

  “You sure he was the one?”

  Gonor's smile contained a small hint of delicate savagery. “We're sure,” he said.

  Formutesca said, “He told us all about it before we were done.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He isn't,” Formutesca said.

  Parker looked at him. Behind the humor Formutesca looked tough. Behind the impassivity Gonor also looked tough. The third man, younger, looked strong and willing.

  Gonor said, “We had hoped to bring you news of Hoskins' removal as well, but he seems to have disappeared for good this time.”

  “He'll be back,” Formutesca said. “But probably not for a while.”

  Parker said, “That general and his colonist friends-”

  “General Goma.”

  “They know you found out about their man.”

  “That won't make any difference,” Gonor said. “They won't move against us until they believe we have the diamonds.”

  Parker turned and looked at the restaurant. Claire was sitting in there on the cool side of the glass, watching. She nodded when their eyes met. He turned back to Gonor and said, “Why follow me? I gave you a no up in New York when Heft.”

  “Because you had the wrong impression of us,” Gonor said. “If you say no to us after we have corrected that impression, of course we will no longer bother you.”

  “We want to give you the proposition first,” Formutesca said. “We never got to that in New York.”

  “You want me to plan your heisting the diamonds.”

  Gonor frowned. “Heisting?”

  Formutesca grinned at him. “Stealing,” he explained, then said to Parker, “I went to M.I.T. Mr Gonor learned his English in school.”

  Gonor was irritated. “M.I.T. is a school,” he snapped. Then to Parker he said, “The proposition is this. We will pay you twenty-five thousand dollars, plus expenses, to plan the robbery and train us to perform it, the money payable on the eve of the robbery before we do it and yours whether the robbery succeeds or not.”

  “You don't want me along.”

  “Not unless it's absolutely necessary,” Gonor said. “Which would be, of course, your decision. If you feel your physical presence during the robbery will be necessary, we will pay you an additional twenty-five thousand dollars. At the same time as the first.”

  “You'll give me the layout?”

  “Naturally.”

  “What if I look at it and decide it can't be done?”

  “We'll pay your expenses up to that point,” Gonor said, “and thank you for your opinion.”

  Parker watched the traffic. “Where are you staying?”

  Gonor grimaced. “At a place called the Sunrise Motel.”

  “For colored,” Formutesca said, amused.

  “If I call at eight o'clock tonight,” Parker said, “it means yes. If I don't, it means no.”

  “Fair enough,” Gonor said. “We'll hope to hear from you.”

  Parker nodded and turned away and went back into the restaurant. The air inside was too cold for comfort now, chilling the sweat on his face and back. He sat down at the table and Claire smiled knowingly at him, saying, “You're going to do it.”

  “Maybe,” Parker said.

  “They got your interest,” she said. “You'll do it.”

  “Maybe,” Parker said.

  7

  Claire said, “What time is it?”

  They were in their room. Parker looked at his watch and said, “Five to eight.”

  “Are you going to call?”

  “You want me to do it,” he said.

  She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

  “We don't need the money.”

  “I know. But we will in six months, and what you're offered in six months probably won't be as good.”

  He shook his head and walked around the room trying to think. “Good?” he said. “What do you mean, good? We don't know whether it's good or bad yet, we don't know where the diamonds are, what the security is—”

  “You know what I mean,” she said.

  “You think it's a good cause,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “I don't do things for good causes.”

  “I know,” she said. “So you do it because of the money, and I'll be glad you're doing it because it's a good cause.”

  “I couldn't say yes for sure at this point,” Parker said. “All I could say is I'd look at it.”

  “I know. You have to be interested, too; it's never just the money.”

  He knew she was wrong about that, that at times he'd gone into jobs for the money and nothing else, but it was true that it helped to have work he could take an interest in. And it would be interesting to plan a job for amateurs, to take the specifics of the situation and make them work in his favor. The part of him that took pleasure in professionalism, in craft, was already half involved in this project, anxious to find out the rest of the details.

  But there were things against it too. They were amateurs, no matter how tough or how willing. And they had spread the news around a little too much, so that the job was complicated with Hoskins and General Goma and the excolonists and who knew how many others.

  There was a silence as he paced, thinking about it, until Claire said, “And I'd like to come along.”

  He stopped and frowned at her. “What do you mean, come along?”

  “It's in New York, isn't it? That's where you'll have to be while they're getting ready.”

  “You don't want to be part of it.”

  “No. But we could live together during it. It wouldn't be like the times when you're doing it yourself.”

  “I might have to,” he said.

  Sharply she said, “Why? That isn't what they want to hire you for.”

 
“It might be necessary, it might not.”

  “What, lead your troops into battle? All they want is a teacher and a planner.”

  “I'm telling you it's a possibility.”

  She bit her lip, hesitated, then made a half-angry shrug of dismissal. “All right. Even so.”

  “I wouldn't want you part of it,” he said. “Not present during the meetings, not anything.”

  “Neither would I,” she said. “But we could be together in between times.” She smiled, saying, “Besides, my shopping trip was interrupted. It'll give me something to do.”

  Parker walked over to the window. The hotel's shadow stretched across the sea, and the sky at the far horizon was already black with night. Behind him, Claire said, “It's eight o'clock.”

  “I know.”

  “You want me to look up their number?”

  What could he lose? He'd look at their situation. “Sunrise Motel,” he said.

  Two

  1

  “Come in,” said Gonor. “This way.”

  Parker followed him through the apartment. The furnishings were new, discreet, anonymous and expensive, with all the earmarks of things purchased by a hired decorator at stores with the notice in their windows: TO THE TRADE ONLY. As they went through, on one wall Parker saw a rough-textured painting of Negro dancers in front of some kind of yellowish hut, and on another wall there was a carved ebony mask, but aside from these there was no indication that the occupants of this apartment were Africans or had ever heard of Africa, so that finally the painting and the mask blended in with the rest, looking like just two more items that had caught the decorator's eye.

  The sitting-room they wound up in was done in quiet shades of green and gray and had windows overlooking Fifth Avenue and Central Park. Formutesca and the third man from Miami were sitting on the green sofa to the right. An older man, very black and with thick white hair, was standing at the window looking thoughtfully at the park as though seeing something else. He and Gonor were in Western dress, Formutesca and the other man in the red robes of their first meeting.

  Gonor said, speaking to the older man, “This is Parker.”

  The older man turned his head and studied Parker tiredly and suspiciously. His manner was that of a sage that people don't come to any more.

  Parker said to Gonor, “How many more?”

  Gonor looked at him in surprise. “How many more what?”

  “People. First there were four of you, and one was no good. Plus Hoskins, General Goma, Goma's ex-colonist friends, Karns from the syndicate, and now this one. How many more people are on the inside of this thing?”

  Gonor was shocked. “Major Indindu is in charge!”

  “In charge of what?”

  The older man showed a thin smile. “Your surprise is natural, Mr Parker,” he said. He had a heavily British accent. “As is your mistrust. As, I hope you will agree, is my mistrust.”

  “The Major will be our next president,” Gonor said.

  Parker looked at him. “You mean, after the Colonel's out?”

  Major Indindu said, “If we succeed in restoring the stolen assets, we will allow Colonel Lubudi to announce his retirement during his stay in New York. A new election will be held in Dhaba, and after I am elected, the Colonel will be free either to return or to stay in New York.”

  Parker said, “What if you're not elected?”

  “I will be.”

  Gonor said fervently, “Major Indindu is our only hope!”

  “All right. What about the situation? The diamonds, and how they're protected.”

  “That's too fast, Mr Parker,” said the Major.

  Parker looked at Gonor. “Up to now,” he said, “I've dealt with you. If this thing takes place, you'll be doing the robbery. Is that right?”

  Gonor nodded.

  “Who else?”

  “Mr Formutesca and Mr Manado.”

  “Manado?”

  Gonor gestured to the man sitting beside Formutesca. “I'm sorry, I thought I had introduced you on our first meeting.”

  “What about the Major?” Parker said.

  Gonor was surprised again. “With us on the robbery? Naturally not!”

  “Then he doesn't belong here.”

  “Surely you can trust—”

  “It isn't trust or not trust. We're not here for a party, we're here to do a thing. Anybody who isn't involved in doing that thing shouldn't be here.”

  “The Major had to approve you before—”

  “No,” Parker said. “You're the man who's going out on the limb; you're the one who'll make it or lose on the basis of how good I am. What the Major has to do is take your word about me and keep out of our way.”

  The Major said something in his native tongue. Gonor, looking unhappy, said something back to him. The Major said something else.

  There was a whole conversation starting there. Parker turned away and went over to Formutesca and Manado. Manado was looking slightly shocked and slightly scared, but Formutesca was looking amused.

  Parker said to Manado, “How old are you?”

  He'd been listening to the Major and Gonor, and now he blinked, focused on Parker, and said, “Sir? I beg your pardon?”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three, sir.”

  Parker turned to Formutesca. “You?”

  Formutesca was smiling happily. “Thirty-one,” he said.

  “You both went to college?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Manado, and Formutesca nodded.

  “Do any sports?”

  “Track team, sir,” said Manado.

  “Baseball,” said Formutesca. “Third base. And some gymnastics.”

  “You know how to handle guns?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Manado, and Formutesca said:

  “Naturally.”

  “Why naturally?”

  “Not all of Dhaba is in the twentieth century,”

  Formutesca said.

  The conversation between Gonor and the Major seemed to have ended, but Parker kept his attention on these two in front of him. He said, “That means you know rifles. Anything else?”

  “I have fired handguns,” said Manado. “And the Sten and Uzi.”

  “Me too,” said Formutesca.

  “What languages do you speak?”

  “Just Abu and English,” said Manado.

  “Abu? That's your native tongue?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Formutesca said, “I speak some French, some German. More French.”

  A door closed. Parker said, “You both drive? You have licenses to drive in this country?” They both nodded. “Either of you color-blind? Epileptic? Get fainting spells? You got any phobias, fear of heights or anything like that?” They both kept shaking their heads.

  Behind Parker, Gonor said, “Mr Parker.”

  Parker turned around. Gonor was alone. “The Major has approved you,” he said, and it was possible there was something humorous in his tone.

  “Good,” said Parker.

  “We'll go for a drive now,” Gonor said.

  “Why?”

  “I'll show you where the diamonds are.”

  2

  The car was a black Mercedes-Benz. Manado was at the wheel and Formutesca beside him, with Gonor and Parker in back. “Go down Park Avenue,” Gonor had said, so Manado had driven down Fifth Avenue to the first eastbound street, over two blocks to Park, and they were now headed south, the Pan Am Building hulking in the roadway ahead of them.

  “This will be interesting to our young friends as well,” Gonor said, nodding at the two in front. “They still don't know where the Kasempas are keeping themselves and the diamonds.”

  Gonor should have kept his security as tight as that on the whole deal, but Parker didn't say so. He just nodded and looked out the window at the cabs.

  After a minute Gonor said, “You don't think much of Major Indindu.”

  “I don't think anything of him. I don't think about him at all.”
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  Gonor frowned, studying Parker. “Is that true? Is that why you're successful? You ignore whatever is not directly necessary?”

  “You can't think about more than one thing at a time,” Parker said.

  “Granted,” said Gonor.

  “Do I continue, sir?” Manado asked. The Pan Am Building was looming up directly ahead, like a life-sized model no longer needed and left out in the street for the Sanitation Department to take away.

  “Straight on,” Gonor said. “But don't take the tunnel.”

  Manado steered the car around the racetrack ramp girdling Grand Central Terminal, of which the Pan Am Building is the hat. He drove well but a trifle too cautiously, letting himself be outbluffed occasionally by hustling cabbies.

  They came down the ramp to Fortieth Street, avoided the tunnel underpass, and Gonor said, “Turn left at Thirty-eighth Street.”

  Formutesca turned around, saying, “The museum?”

  Gonor nodded to him.

  “Nobody lives there,” Formutesca said.

  “There is the top-floor apartment.”

  “But…nobody ever lived there!”

  “Not till now,” Gonor said. Turning to Parker he said, “Seven Central African nations, when they were all colonies of the same European power, combined to create and support a Museum of African Arts and Artifacts in New York City. Actually it was the mother country that was the inspiration and most of the financial support for the museum. As each of the colonies became independent it ceased to be a supporting member of the museum. Until us. We were the last of the colonies to gain independence. Rather than take over the museum itself, which would have been at the least anomalous, our former mother country has given the museum to us and has presented us with a fund from which the proceeds will furnish the operating expenses.”

  Manada had been stopped by a red light at Thirty-ninth Street, but now it turned green and he drove forward a block and made his left. Gonor looked out the windshield and said, “Park across the street.”

  “Don't stop,” Parker said. “Just go past it slow.”