01. Labyrinth of Dreams (29 page)

Little Jimmy composed himself, and both Brandy and I started to relax a bit. If we were going to die, we'd have been dead by now.

"What do you want here, Horowitz?"

"Just information. Seems we got hung out to drip dry by you and your crowd, Nkrumah. I don't like setting up people for hitters, and I don't like getting in the crossfire."

"That was your own damned fault and you know it! I
told
you to take the money and split!"

"Yeah, well, we all got taken for a ride anyway, and your hitters shot a fat zero. They're both gone, and their targets, both decoys, are ah've and away, and so are we."

"Decoys! But . . ."

"The man's still around, Little Jimmy, and he wants to go home, only he can't, 'cause he's got a backstabber in his neighborhood and we still don't have the whole picture," Brandy told him. "You got the missin' part."

"I don't! I was used, just like everybody else!" he replied. "I didn't know who, or what, was involved here! Who the hell
could
have even imagined such a thing?"

"But you know now, just like we do," I pointed out to him. "Only we found out by falling right out of this world. You didn't. That means between the time we searched Whitlock's apartment and the time we talked to each other that last time when I got to Bend, you learned more than a little. You found out the whole damned thing."

"I swear I knew nothing!" Little Jimmy protested, and finally his side came out.

He had been picked up, while leaving his office in Camden, by some of Big Tony's boys and taken for what they said was a meet. He was scared it was a one-way trip, that Big Tony was going to finish him off because he'd lost the money and was now undependable, but it wasn't Big Tony they took him to see. Instead, it was Whitlock himself, clean-shaven and distinguished looking. Except, of course, it wasn't Whitlock—not the one he thought. The double freely admitted he was a double and had switched places with the other one while that other was "playing games in queenie-land." He said he knew that Little Jimmy handled a number of investment accounts for Big Tony, that he was something of a laundry for the mobster, and he wanted the names and dates and information on those accounts and transactions. Whitlock Two offered him his money back—in exchange for Big Tony.

Little Jimmy shrugged. "I mean, what the hell? I never liked those white Italian bastards anyway. Kept people like me on the fringe of the real power, took us out when we got too uppity for them. Big Tony thought blacks should be back picking cotton except that they were profitable, but a hundred times he called me nigger to my face and I took it. I had no choice but to take it. Not then. But I was
ruined.
Wiped out. I knew I couldn't keep the news from Big Tony much longer about the money, and I knew what he'd do to me even though it hadn't cost him. Waste one nigger, you set an example. I had a way out, so I took the deal. I gave him Big Tony, and he gave me a list of safety-deposit boxes spread all over the Caribbean, each containing some of my money, and the authorizations. I went home just long enough to pack, and then
Whitlock
was there! At my house! Only he had a three days' growth of beard!"

"The
real
one," I commented, nodding.

"Yeah, that's right. Or, I think so. Who the hell knows anymore? He tells me what kind of thing I'm up against. He tells me where the doubles come from. He tells me he doesn't work for Big Tony, that Big Tony works for
him.
He offers to make good my money, and keep me out of this mess, if I tell him what I know. Of course, I'm scared to death at this point, so I agree to go along with him and lie low for a while, but as soon as he leaves, I
split,
man. I hit my stash fund, then I started taking a quick tour of the Caribbean. The first two banks, the money was there; but when I hit the third, in Barbados, they acted like they knew me on sight, and insisted that I'd been there only an hour before—dressed differently, but otherwise the same. I went from there to Martinique—same story. Finally I skipped down to Kingston, made certain I hadn't been there before, and waited."

He sighed, paused a moment, then continued, "I staked out that bank for four days. On the fourth day, I saw—"

"Yourself," Brandy guessed. "You watched you goin' into the bank."

He nodded and buried his head in his hands. "Yes! I knew then that what the Whitlocks had told me was at least partly true. They're taking us over! One by one, they're taking us over, replacing us with exact duplicates! I made for this island and this boat, which I'd prepared long ago, and which the ladies here helped maintain, and I've been on it ever since.
I
don't want to be replaced!"
He stared at us. "You
think
this is your world, but are you
sure?
Are you sure of
anything?"

"No," I admitted, remembering Cranston's comment that paranoia was part and parcel of this business when you knew the truth. "But I'm as sure as I can be. So what are you going to do now? Sit here on this tub until the money runs out? Sooner or later you're going to have to get involved again in some way to keep the money flowing."

"I
am
involved. You said I fired you."

"Yeah. Over the phone, when I called you from Bend."

"Horowitz—the last time we talked was the call you made after leaving the apartment in northeast Philly. They picked me up that night, and the other Whitlock was at my house when I got there in the wee hours of the morning. I was
gone
after that. As God as my witness, I never talked to you after that.
He
did."

That explained a lot. I suddenly had as much sympathy for Little Jimmy as I was capable of having for weasels and skunks. All he really knew was that he was screwed with the mob, and that there were two Whitlocks who'd used him. He bought the real Whitlock's story only as much as it helped him keep from going nuts, but he really didn't know that much. I was convinced of it. They'd pulled in another Nkrumah to cover and make a more orderly exit, but then what? The new Little Jimmy had the same greed as the old one. He'd made for those boxes to recover as much of the money as possible. He couldn't stay too long in Camden himself because the heat was on.

"He
was waiting for me in my hotel room in Kingston . that night," Little Jimmy told us. "I couldn't arrange a plane out that day. When I entered,
he
was there, with a gun."

"
I
just wanted to meet face to face," Little Jimmy Two had told him. "My intent, I admit, was to kill you. That would make it easy. You—I—would be legally and permanently dead. No hunters. I really intended to do it, but I can't do it. It's odd, but I can't. I hadn't really realized that until just now."

"What—what will you do with me?" our little Jimmy asked him.

"Go to your hideaway. You have sufficient funds for quite a while. Stay there. Vanish there. So long as you do, you will live. If you show up, or get made by anyone, though, you will seal your own fate. I will not have to do it, thank God. Just stay out of our way."

"And you been here ever since?" Brandy asked him.

He nodded. "Not moving off this boat, or out of the company of at least one of the girls at all times, so they'll always be confident that it's me."

I had a sudden bad feeling about this. "Nkrumah— where's the third girl? The Oriental one?"

"Huh? Around, I don't know. Nan?"

"She went out earlier this mornin'," the woman with the M16 responded. "Haven't seen her in a while. We're low on a lot of supplies."

I was suddenly real nervous again, but I had to make an insurance position known. "Girls, there's no way you're going to shoot us all and survive, and you know it. You want to tell me who's working for who, and maybe get us all out of this?"

Little Jimmy looked like he'd seen a ghost. He turned and stared at the pair. Clearly he hadn't gone far enough with this replacement bit. He didn't have all the story.

"We was only suppos'ta keep him happy," Annie, the white girl, told us, still holding the pistol. "You got no idea what kinda life we come from, mister."

I nodded. "I think I might. Who hired you? Who brought you over?"

Both of them looked uncertain as to what to do or say. Finally it was Nan, with all the firepower, who said, "Gritch. Sol Gritch brung us. We was in his stable, y'know."

I looked at Brandy and Little Jimmy. "Name sound familiar?"

Both of them shook their heads no. We suddenly had a new player in the game, and that was something I didn't like at all. "He from Camden or Philadelphia?" I asked.

"Sure. He's big in southeast Philly. Everybody knows Sol."

There, maybe, wherever "there" actually is. Not here.

"You never saw nobody but this Gritch?" Brandy asked them.

"Sure. Lots," Annie replied. "But nobody else we knew or cared about."

I had a sudden, unpleasant thought. "You had to come in through the Labyrinth. Where was the station?"

"The what? You mean that dizzy thing. Up in the middle of nowhere. You know, near Penn State."

There was a sudden spray of bullets and we all hit the deck. I saw Annie fall, and I felt a sting in my left arm. "Stay down!" I yelled. "Brandy! You okay?"

"Yeah, for a moment. Who the hell—?"

"Mike!" I yelled, hoping the microphone was still open. "Can you make the shooter and, if so, nail the bastard!"

There was no rifle fire, which meant that either they'd taken Mike out or he couldn't get a bead on the shooter. Suddenly there were three sharp reports, not rifle shots but pistol shots, and the sound of a body somewhere forward falling into the drink.

"Nan!" Brandy yelled. "Can you toss out that cannon to one of us without coming up? They're sure to wipe us out!"

"To me!" I shouted. "You're half tight and haven't got your glasses on!"

Nan seemed uncertain as to what to do, but finally tossed the M16 out onto the deck. I crawled to it and got it; the pain in my arm was getting real irritating, but better there than in my head.

It was clear now that the shots had come through the windshield from the bow; that's why Annie had taken it and why I'd gotten nipped. I was almost in a direct line from her.

I made my way warily forward and up the ladder to the wheel. Annie was splattered over half the side; she was out of the game for keeps. Keeping down, I cautiously peered out of the shattered windshield, but could see no one.

"Anybody alive up there?" I heard Jamie's voice call from the water side.

"Yeah, some of us!" Brandy shouted back. "You got 'em?"

"There was only one. The Chinese girl or whatever she was. She's meat now. Came up out of some hatch up there, crawled up, and started firing before I could react. Sorry."

I relaxed a little and made my way back down to the others. Brandy turned and then gave a little gasp. Little Jimmy had been between Annie and me. We went to him, but Brandy didn't need her glasses to see he'd done his last deal. One of the slugs had gone right in the back of his head.

Brandy suddenly looked at me. "Sam! Oh, my God! You're hurt!"

There was the sound of a European-style police siren in the background, and a lot of yelling and screaming.

"Only a flesh wound," I said bravely, and then passed out cold.

Mike came to see me in the small hospital. As the only registered member of our party not under arrest, he was the only one who could. I was sort of under arrest as well, but that amounted to a cop on the door and a search of all unofficial visitors. I figured that with all the shots flying around, the cops had never known Mike had been any part of this.

"Dey questioned me for a little, but only about all of you folks," he told me. "I tell dem I'm just a charter pilot and dey pretty much believe dat. I wasn't able to see either of de girls, but I made a few calls on de Company. Some folks will be in tonight if dey can get Company planes. I worry about dem two, though. Dis sorta t'ing just isn't done here."

"They'll hold up," I assured him, hoping the authorities would at least obey the normal procedures until help arrived. "Brandy's had a lot of experience with cops and Jamie's a pretty tough customer."

"I'll say! I didn't even
see
dat girl wid the gun. Angle was wrong. Sorry."

"You did your best. It's too bad she had to be killed, though. She was
their
agent here, that's clear now, although even the other girls didn't know it. She had the answers. What about the surviving girl, Nan?"

"Oh, she's okay. Dey got her under protective detention, as dey call it, tryin' to get more information, but dey don't t'ink she was a shooter. So far she's givin' dem the straight dope on the shooting, as far as I can tell, and odderwise clammin' up. Says she was a whore wid Little Jimmy, dat's all. She don't know nuttin' else."

I nodded. "That's good. I just hope we can get some big shots in fast, and, if so, they're the right ones. You heard the whole thing?"

"Yeah. I already tell dem dis Sol Gritch character. Dey will do a big check on him. We should know what we can know by de time dey get here."

"In the meantime, you make sure Nan stays in protective and doesn't get released or taken away," I told him. "If the opposition doesn't get her, then they can't know what we learned before their agent wasted Little Jimmy." I paused. "Mike— how much do you
really
know about what's going on here?"

He grinned. "I don't know nuttin', man. I'm just a poor charter pilot for a big, big company, dat's all." With that, he turned and left, leaving me with the feeling I was being had. He sure was a pilot, and a good one, but he was far more than that. I wondered if even Janie knew how much more.

The bullet had taken a small chunk out of me but had only grazed the bone. My main trouble was loss of blood from moving around after being shot, although I knew I was going to have a pretty useless left arm and probably lots of bandages and antibiotics for a while. No matter what, I had to trust to Brandy, Jamie, and Mike to keep things from getting out of hand at this point. I was sure as hell stuck for the moment.