The Black Ice Score p-1 Page 5

  4

  It was like an art gallery: blueprints, floor plans, and photos all along the walls. Parker moved slowly from one to the next, an interested patron of the arts.

  Gonor had set up this one room of his apartment as a kind of headquarters or war room. He’d stripped it to a table and four chairs under the central light fixture, he’d put the blueprints and other material along the walls, and on the table he’d put pads and pencils. He moved with Parker now, pointing out specific items of interest on the different floor plans.

  “The fire escape,” he said at one point, tapping the paper. “On the rear of the building.”

  “Can we use it?” Manado and Formutesca were sitting at the table, watching and waiting.

  Gonor shook his head. “No. The windows opening on to it are protected by metal gates on the inside.”

  Parker nodded and kept looking. A minute later he tapped the blueprint he was looking at and said, “Elevator?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mm.” Parker moved on. “Basement,” he said. “Any exterior way in?”

  “No. There was at one time a coal chute on the left side of the building near the front, but that was removed and the window covered when the building was converted to the museum.”

  “Window covered how?”

  “With masonry.”

  “All right.”

  There were photos of the building, front and back. The front showed him nothing he didn’t already know, and the back looked like a prison with its barred windows and black metal door. There were some photos of the interior, various display rooms.

  “Those are stock photos,” Gonor said. “We’ve had them on file for some time; they’re to be used in publicity and news releases.”

  “They’re out of date?”

  Gonor shook his head. “Nothing changes inside the museum,” he said. “It still looks like that today.”

  Parker studied the pictures, then nodded and turned away and sat down at the table. Gonor sat at his left, with Formutesca opposite and Manado on the right.

  Parker said, “About the elevator. What’s at the top of the shaft?”

  Gonor had no idea what he was talking about. “The roof,” he said, surprised.

  “There’s got to be the motor housing,” Parker told him. “Or is that in the basement?”

  “Oh, I see, yes. Yes, it’s in the basement. But there is some machinery at the top.” He twisted around and pointed to the picture of the rear of the building. “You see that black shape on top of the building there?”

  “How do you get into it?”

  Gonor frowned, studying the picture from his seat. “I don’t remember. But I’m sure there’s some way.”

  “I think the top is hinged,” Formutesca said. “It’s only about three feet by four.”

  “Kept locked?”

  Gonor said, “Oh, certainly.”

  “But you have a key.”

  Gonor frowned. “I suppose so. I’m sure we must.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “In my desk drawer at the mission,” Gonor said. “I have a yellow envelope marked Museum Keys, with a dozen or more keys inside. Which key is which I have no idea.”

  “We’ll have to find out,” Parker said.

  Formutesca said, “You can’t get to the roof without going through the fourth floor. They’ll never let us do it.”

  “That’s right,” Gonor said. “We could go there, and so long as we stayed in the museum area the Kasempas would leave us alone. In fact, they’d be silent; they’d hide the fact of their existence. But if we went to the fourth floor they wouldn’t be able to hide any more. And they know I am one of those opposed to Colonel Lubudi.”

  Parker said, “How far would they go?”

  “They would kill us,” Gonor said. “Kill us and bury the bodies in the basement. So the Negro head of the mission of an obscure and tiny African state disappears in New York. We might be in the local papers for two or three days, some of the more rabid Communist nations might get a little propaganda value out of American lawlessness, but that would be all.”

  “All right,” Parker said. “But we have to know about the elevator shaft first.”

  “But why?”

  “We can’t get in at the front,” Parker told him. “And we can’t get in at the back or the sides. With the coal-chute window sealed off, we can’t get in at the bottom. That leaves the top.”

  Formutesca laughed, a sudden bark of delight. “That’s the kind of thinking we want!” he said.

  Gonor smiled at Formutesca, then said to Parker, “Several years ago I read a detective story, English or American, I’m not sure which. In it, the detective advocated eliminating all impossibilities. Whatever was left, he said, however improbable, was the truth. Now I find the other side of the law has a similar dictum. The only problem is, how do we get tothe top?”

  “From next door,” Parker said. He got to his feet and went over to the picture showing the front of the house. “You’ve got about four feet here,” he said, pointing to the alley to the left of the house. “And the same on the other side. The buildings on both sides are taller than this one. We go out a window from one of those buildings and over to the roof.”

  Gonor said, “How?”

  “It depends on the position of the window in relation to the roof. If we can, we’ll just put a one-by-twelve across from the sill to the roof. If the angle’s too steep, we’ll have to do it with ropes and grappling irons.”

  Formutesca said, “What about the people over there? We’d rather not cause trouble with innocent bystanders.”

  “We’ll be going at night,” Parker said. “We’ll have to find a place that’s empty at night. That’s no problem.”

  Formutesca grinned. “If you say so,” he said.

  Parker went back to the table and sat down. “The next thing is armaments,” he said. “Can we get whatever we need?”

  “Within reason,” Gonor said. “I couldn’t get us a tank or a helicopter, for instance. But I can get guns, rifles, machine guns.”

  “Gas?”

  “What kind of gas?”

  “Knockout. Stuff that works fast and disperses fast.”

  Gonor smiled bitterly. “I’m not sure that’s among the items the big boys will let us play with,” he said. When Parker frowned at him, he explained, “All our armaments come from the major nations, of course. And Israel, which in some ways is also a major nation. But there are agreements among the arms-producing nations about which armaments will be sold in which part of the world. We, for instance, may purchase jet fighters from anyone, and so we have an air force of seven MIG-fifteens and five F-ninety-fours, all purchased used, but no one will sell us a jet bomber.”

  Parker said, “Whatever we want you’re going to have to have shipped from Dhaba?”

  “Not at all,” Gonor said. “Mr Formutesca is our military attaché. He will make the purchases in this country for shipment to our warehouse space in Newark, and after that whatever items we need just won’t go on to Dhaba.” Gonor shrugged. “Simplicity,” he said.

  Parker said to Formutesca, “Can you get the gas?”

  “I’ll have to check,” Formutesca said. “I doubt they’ll let us have that kind of lethal gas.”

  “It doesn’t have to be lethal. All it has to do is knock a man out in one or two breaths.”

  “Non-lethal? I’m sure we can get that.”

  “Good. We’ll also need some sort of explosive. One that won’t cause much damage but makes a big bang.”

  Formutesca nodded. “I know something good for that.”

  To Gonor Parker said, “Can you get more pictures of the outside of the house without being seen?”

  “I think so,” Gonor said.

  “I want angle shots,” Parker said. “So I can see the sides of the flanking buildings.”

  “All right.”

  “If you can’t get them without tipping yourself to the people inside, let it go.”
>
  “I’ll be careful,” Gonor said.

  “Good. Formutesca, have you got old clothes? Very sloppy old clothes.”

  “I have the things I play touch football in.”

  “They have to look like work clothes. Like a janitor.”

  “Oh! Yes, of course. I have a pair of trousers so smeared with paint they’d pass for a Pollock.”

  “Good.” To Gonor he said, “We’re going to need a truck, a small delivery van. The smaller the better.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t own a truck,” Gonor said.

  “Then buy one. Old. Used. As old as you can get.”

  Gonor nodded. “We can do that.”

  “When you’ve got it,” Parker said, “give me a call. And Formutesca, you be ready with the old clothes.”

  Smiling, pleased, Formutesca nodded. “I will,” he said.

  Parker got to his feet. “That’s all for now,” he said. “If you’ve got a cleaning lady, take that stuff off the walls.”

  “I’m keeping this room locked,” Gonor said.

  “All right.”

  Gonor walked him to the door. “I believe you’re a good teacher,” he said. “And I believe you will find us quick students.”

  “That’s good,” Parker said.

  5

  Hoskins got to his feet when Parker came into the room. The gun in his right hand was small but efficient-looking.

  Parker took his key out of the lock and shut the door. He dropped the key on the dresser and shrugged out of his coat. Hoskins watched him, a faintly pleasant expression on his face, attempting to be the club man meeting an old friend at the club. The gun spoiled the effect, and so did the wariness he couldn’t keep from showing in his eyes.

  Parker tossed his coat on the bed, and Hoskins flinched, just a little. If he was that nervous, he might fire the gun by accident. To calm him down a little, Parker talked softly to him, saying, “Somebody let you in?”

  Hoskins had control of himself again. “No, no, dear boy,” he said. “One picks up keys here and there, you know. They fit a variety of locks.”

  The “dear boy” was new. Parker, looking closely at him, now saw that Hoskins was drunk. Quietly drunk, in a steady and dignified way. Full of what he himself undoubtedly would call Dutch courage.

  Parker turned toward the bathroom. “You want a drink?”

  “I think not. You’re playing with Gonor and that crowd, aren’t you?”

  Parker stopped and looked at him. “Playing?”

  “On their team.”

  Parker shrugged.

  “The only question is,” Hoskins said, “did you send those two cannibals down to the bar after me that day or didn’t you?”

  Parker said, “That isn’t the question.”

  “It isn’t? Really, dear boy. What isthe question, then?”

  Parker said, “How to keep you from coming back.”

  Hoskins opened his mouth to laugh. “But you can’t,” he said. “I have the smell of gold in my nostrils now.”

  “You want a piece.”

  “Of course. But not for nothing; I’m not like that. I can contribute, you know.”

  “Contribute what?”

  “Myself. My expertise, for what it’s worth. Because whatever you may think of Gonor and his lieutenants, dear boy, you should never underestimate them. You won’t get the booty away from them all by yourself, you know.”

  Parker said, “What if I’m not going to take it away from them at all?”

  Hoskins made a mocking face, lifting one eyebrow. “What, settle for twenty-five thousand? You don’t look that sort of man to me, Mr Walker.”

  “I’ll tell you another sort of man I’m not,” Parker said. “I don’t do business with a man holding a gun on me.”

  Hoskins looked at the gun in his hand as though mildly surprised to see it still there. Shrugging, he smiled amiably and said, “I didn’t know what your attitude would be, of course. I had to be ready to protect myself in case you were going to be difficult.”

  “I won’t be difficult,” Parker said, “if you can be reasonable. And useful. We should be able to work something out.”

  There was relief evident in Hoskins’ smile now. “I thought you were a sensible man,” he said. “I thought we could get together.”

  Parker pointed at the gun. “Not with that in your hand,” he said. “Put it away.”

  “Of course,” said Hoskins. “Sorry, old man.” He tucked the gun away in his hip pocket.

  Parker walked over toward him, hand extended for a shake, saying, “Now we can start a partnership.”

  Hoskins was delighted. “Bound to be a profitable one,” he said, and put his hand out for Parker’s. Parker hit him high on the right cheek and he fell backward over the bed and landed on his side on the floor.

  Parker walked around the bed and kicked Hoskins once. Hoskins fell back and didn’t move.

  Parker went to one knee and emptied Hoskins’ pockets, beginning with the gun, a Beretta .22 automatic, lethal at arm’s length but not much good beyond that. In the other hip pocket was a wallet. Hoskins had two Diner’s Club cards, one in the name of Fields, one in the name of Goldstein. He also had fifty-three dollars in cash, a California driver’s license giving his name as Wilfred R. Hoskins, a wallet calendar from a New York City bank giving formulas for finding Manhattan addresses on the back, and a baggage claim check from Penn Station.

  Parker tossed the wallet on the bed, rolled Hoskins over, and went through the rest of his pockets. A pack of Salem cigarettes, a Zippo lighter engraved with the word Burma, a key to room 627 at the Edward Hotel, Broadway and Seventy-second Street, the return of a round-trip United Air Lines ticket from Los Angeles, date open, a switchblade knife, a small packet of tissues, a key pouch containing half a dozen keys, including one to a General Motors car, and a small notebook with its own short ballpoint pen inside. In the notebook there was a crossed-out notation of the name and address Parker had had the last time he was up in New York Matthew Walker, Room 723, Normanton Hotel and beneath it the name and address this time Thomas Lynch, Room 516, Winchester Hotel. On another page there were four names in descending order, followed by an address:

  Goma

  Jock Daask

  Avon Marten

  Robert Quilp

  193 Riverside Drive, Apt. 7-J

  Parker went back to Hoskins’ wallet, checked the back of the bank calendar, and found 193 Riverside Drive would be around West Ninety-first Street. Too far north to be a first-rate address.

  Hoskins made a sound in his throat and moved his head a little. Parker put everything back in his pockets except the notebook and the Beretta, which he put away in a dresser drawer.

  Hoskins was stirring now. Parker went over and grabbed him under the arms and dragged him over to the window. He opened the window, and March air rushed in, cold and wet. He lifted Hoskins and turned him so his chest was on the windowsill and his head hung out the window. West Forty-fourth Street was five stories down.

  “Wake up,” Parker said, and reached over Hoskins’ shoulder to slap his face.

  The slap and the cold air finished the job of bringing Hoskins around. Parker had his other hand on Hoskins’ back holding him in place, and he felt him stiffen when his eyes opened and he saw nothing but air beneath him for fifty feet.

  Hoskins struggled, trying to get back in, but Parker held him there like a moth pinned to a display board. Hoskins was calling things out there, amazed things and terrified things.

  Parker waited till Hoskins settled down a little, then he dragged him back in. Hoskins’ face was bright red, as though paint had been poured on it. “For God’s sake,” he said. “For God’s sake.” He was sober.

  Parker said, “The next time you come around, I don’t bring you back in.”

  “For God’s sake, man.” Hoskins was touching himself all over tie, cheek, belt, hair, mouth as though to reassure himself he was still there. “You didn’t have to”

  “You
wouldn’t listen to me. Will you listen to me now?”

  “Of course, man. Good God, you don’t have to”

  “Then listen.” Parker stood in front of him and spoke slowly and carefully, looking into Hoskins’ frightened eyes.

  “I am working with Gonor,” he said. “I am taking the cut he offered me. I am not taking anything else and I am not helping you take anything else. Do you understand that?”

  Hoskins had begun to blink rapidly, the prelude to shaky defiance, an attempt to get back his self-esteem. “I understand,” he said. Then, very high and fast, “Oh, I understand, don’t you worry. You want the whole thing for yourself, that’s plain enough. Well, you can have it, for all the good it’ll do you. You’re as crazy as those black madmen and you deserve each other and I hope before you’re done you’ll allkill each other off, because they won’t be as easy to fool as you think, they’ll be on to”

  Parker slapped him, open-handed, just hard enough to stop the flow of words. “You didn’t listen,” he said.

  Hoskins put his hand to his cheek. “I said I was out,” he said as though some great injustice had just been done him.

  Parker looked at him and considered. Keep pushing and convince him of the truth? There was no point in it, not if he’d been sufficiently convinced to keep himself away from the action. In fact, it might be better if he thought Parker greedy enough to try for the whole pie himself. Hoskins would tend to stay a long way away from the kind of fight a Parker and a Gonor could have together.

  Parker nodded and stepped back. “Good,” he said. “You’re out. Use that ticket to L.A.”

  Hoskins felt for it in his jacket pocket in quick panic, and showed relief when it was still there. Then he felt the rest of his pockets and became aggrieved. “My gun!” he cried. “My notebook!”

  “You don’t need a gun,” Parker told him. “Not on the plane.”

  “My notebook.”

  “You don’t need to take notes.”

  “Listen,” Hoskins said, getting loud, “you can’t do”

  Parker turned away from him and went over and opened the hall door. “Goodbye,” he said.

  “You can’t” Hoskins said. “You can’t just”

  “I don’t want to have to touch you,” Parker said.