1970 - There's a Hippie on the Highway (7 page)

‘What’s going on?’

A small man wearing black trousers, an open neck white shirt and a scarlet sash around his waist had come out onto the veranda.

Harry immediately disliked his small, mean eyes and mouth and the arrogant way he stood.

‘Manuel!’ Nina screamed. ‘Tell this thug to get out! See him off!’ She swung around and ran past Manuel and disappeared into the restaurant.

Manuel eyed Harry, then looked inquiringly at Randy.

‘Who’s this? Did you bring him here?’

Randy shuffled his feet uneasily.

‘He’s the new lifeguard. Solo hired him just now.’

Manuel’s little eyes narrowed.

‘So what’s she beefing about?’

‘She’s upset.’ Randy lifted his hands helplessly. ‘Solo and Harry had a friendly scrap. You know Solo. It got a little rough and Nina didn’t like it.’

Manuel hesitated, then shrugged.

‘We don’t like trouble here,’ he said to Harry. ‘If you’re going to work here, watch it.’

‘If you don’t like trouble, talk to Mr. Dominico,’ Harry said quietly. ‘He seems to like it.’

Manuel’s eyes sparked and his mouth tightened. He hesitated, then looking at Randy, he said, ‘I’ll want you in the bar in half an hour. There’s work to do.’ He eyed Harry again, then went back into the restaurant.

‘Maybe I’d better clear off,’ Harry said. ‘I don’t want to make it tricky for you.’

‘Forget it,’ Randy said. ‘Solo hired you. He’s satisfied. If he wants you to go, he’ll tell you. Come on: I’ll show you your pad.’

Harry shrugged, picked up his rucksack and followed Randy along a cement path, around the back of the restaurant and finally to four wood cabins, screened from the restaurant by shrubs.

Randy pushed open the door of the second cabin.

‘This is yours.’ He stood aside. ‘Mine’s next door. Manuel has the one the other side of yours. The other is empty.’

Harry entered the cabin. It was stiflingly hot in the small boxlike room which was furnished with a truckle bed, an upright chair, a closet and a chest of drawers. Behind a plastic curtain was a shower and a toilet.

He dumped his rucksack on the floor, crossed the room to throw open the window, then moved out to join Randy who had left his guitar and duffel bag in his cabin and was waiting for him by the door.

‘Okay?’

‘Not a Hilton, but it will do,’ Harry said. He lit a cigarette and regarded Randy, then went on quietly, ‘Go ahead and say it. According to you, I shouldn’t have hit the old man . . . right?’

Randy didn’t meet Harry’s eyes.

‘You hurt his pride. Solo imagines he is the best man in the district. He’s never been taken.’ Randy thrust his hands deep into his pockets. ‘Hell! You certainly socked him.’

‘He had it coming. You can’t go throwing punches the way he did without having to pay the check sooner or later. It was only because he is fat and a lot older than I am that I held off the first and second times. I hit him just hard enough to warn him, but he thought he could take me and he couldn’t resist trying.’ He stared at Randy, his eyes cold and pale. ‘I’ve just come out of the jungle where dog eats dog. It’s hard to have patience with the phonies, the hippies, the freaks, the junkies and the soft livers who are cluttering up this country. If they leave me alone, I’ll go along with them, but if they start leaning on me, it’s just too bad for them.’

‘Sure.’ Randy forced a grin. ‘The trouble is people don’t expect it from you. Maybe you should hang a danger label on yourself.’

Harry suddenly relaxed. He grinned.

‘Maybe I should,’ he said.

* * *

A little after 10.00 hours, Harry saw Solo Dominico return from marketing. He watched two Negro waiters run across the sand to carry in the various boxes and baskets that half-filled the estate car.

Harry was sitting in the shade of a palm tree, a dozen yards or so from his cabin. He had been there for the past two hours, keeping out of the way and waiting for Solo to return. During the wait, his mind had been busy. He was far more concerned with the puzzle of the dead man than he was with Dominico or his fiery tempered daughter.

After they had buried the body, he and Randy had driven to the outskirts of Miami where they came on a caravan site. There was a free parking sign above the entrance and already there were some two hundred caravans on the site. Harry had decided this would be the best and safest place to lose the caravan.

At that time in the morning there was no one around. They had unhitched the caravan and had left it in a row with other caravans without being seen.

Beyond Miami, they load found a vast parking lot crowded with cars and this too seemed an ideal place in which to lose the Mustang. Before leaving the car, Harry had gone over it with a damp leather, making absolutely sure that the car, inside and out, was free of their fingerprints.

Reluctantly leaving the Mustang, they had walked to the highway and had picked up a bus that had brought them to the Dominico Restaurant.

Thinking back on each move he had made, Harry was now satisfied that he had taken every precaution to cover their tracks. So long as the body wasn’t discovered, he reasoned, there would be no pressure. The chances of the Mustang being found for some weeks in that vast parking lot were remote, and even if it were found it would still not start a murder hunt.

Harry slid his hand into his trousers pocket and fingered the key he had found attached to the inside of the dead man’s wig. He hadn’t told Randy about this discovery and he was still undecided whether to tell him or not.

He felt that because of its ingenious hiding place whoever had tortured the dead man so savagely had been desperately trying to find it. Remembering the charred, blackened foot, Harry decided that no one would have inflicted such an injury unless the key unlocked some vital and important secret.

He had asked Randy where the City’s airport was situated.

Randy had told him it was some fifteen miles to the east of the City and Harry calculated it would be a little over twenty miles from here.

He wondered how soon he could get to the airport; whether there was a bus that would take him there or whether he could borrow Solo’s car. He decided he would have to wait a day or so, but he mustn’t wait until the restaurant became so busy, he wouldn’t be able to beg time off.

He thought it was curious that Randy had so easily shrugged off the finding of the dead man once he was convinced they had covered their tracks. He was now no longer interested in the mysterious woman who had landed them with the Mustang and the caravan nor interested in the white Mercedes and the driver who Harry was sure had picked the woman up. If Randy wasn’t interested, Harry was.

But until he could get to the left luggage locker and find out what it contained, he decided it was a waste of time to think further on the puzzle. His mind now shifted to the present situation.

He watched Solo walk heavy-footed to the restaurant and as he mounted the steps to the veranda, Nina appeared.

Even from this distance, Harry could see she was still furiously angry She began talking excitedly to Solo who stood over her, frowning and listening.

Harry could hear her shrill tone, but not what she said. Every now and then, she waved towards where the cabins were and Harry knew she was complaining about him.

He wondered if she had enough influence over her father to get him thrown out.

In spite of her hostility, this girl had made a big impact on him and this bothered him. Up to now and since losing Nhan, his relations with girls were impersonal and reserved. He took those who offered themselves, and a number of them did, and forgot them immediately but he knew there could be complications if either this girl or he or both of them ever allowed the situation to get out of hand.

The last thing, he told himself he wanted was another problem and yet there was this thing about her that set him on fire. It could be, he thought uneasily, he was heading for yet another problem and it might even be worth it.

He saw Solo suddenly raise his hand, stopping Nina’s vehement gestures. Solo spoke for a few moments as he wagged his thick finger at her, then Nina shrugged, turned and flounced out

of sight.

Solo stood on the veranda, his face thoughtful, then he looked towards where Harry was sitting and beckoned. Harry got to his feet and walked across the sand as Solo came down the steps and moved to meet him.

Solo grinned as Harry joined him.

‘You had a little spat with my daughter, hey?’

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Harry returned, his face expressionless, ‘but she did have a little spat with me.’

Solo laughed: a deep bass rumble.

‘She’s a lovely girl and I spoil her.’ He shook his head, his eyes sentimental. ‘She takes after her dead mother, and there was a fine woman! Harry, be careful. My little girl doesn’t like you. I told her you are a fine man and you’re going to stay, but watch out.’ He dug his finger into Harry’s chest. ‘I’ll tell you something, Harry. She thinks a lot of me: always has done. She can’t believe I’m getting old and when you took me it broke a little dream.’ Solo grimaced. ‘You understand what I’m saying? Do you remember Dempsey? I worshipped him when I was a young man. I saw all his fights. When Tunney took him, it did something to me . . . broke a dream.’ He snorted through his broad nostrils. ‘No one should think too much of anyone, but then she’s young.’ He looked directly at Harry. ‘You understand, hey?’

‘Yes, I understand, Mr. Dominico,’ Harry said. He hesitated, then went on, ‘Maybe I’d better clear out. I don’t want to upset your daughter by staying here. There are plenty of other jobs in this City.’

‘Never let a woman scare you, Harry,’ Solo said.

‘It’s not that.’ Harry screwed up his eyes as he looked up at the brilliant blue sky. ‘The trouble is I’ve lived too long in a jungle where men are nervy, mean and likely to explode for no reason at all. They have had death sitting at their elbows so long, they can’t help turning mean. Coming back to this country makes me a little impatient with those who have no good reason to act mean. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll move on and no hard feelings. Okay?’

‘Not okay. I want you to stay. I’m asking you to stay. We two have lots to talk about and you’re going to help me. If you have any trouble with Nina, you tell me. I’ll stop it. She’s a lovely girl, but she has her mother’s temper. I’m asking you to stay.’

Harry hesitated.

‘Okay, Mr. Dominico. I’ll stay.’

Solo grinned and patted Harry’s shoulder.

‘And stop calling me mister. That I don’t like. You call me Solo like everyone around here does I have to start lunch. We won’t get many here today, but we have to be ready. You want to be useful?’

‘That’s what I’m here for.’

‘Then take a look at the gear in that hut over there. I’ll send a couple of boys to help you. I want to get the rafts floating and the pedal boats ready. You are in charge of the beach now, Harry. I want it kept nice and clean and the mattresses and the umbrellas all good. You can handle that?’

‘Sure.’

‘You come to the kitchen at twelve, hey? That’s when we eat.’ Solo patted Harry’s shoulder again. ‘And don’t worry about Nina. If she bothers you, you tell me and I smack her bottom, hey?’

Harry nodded, but he didn’t smile. He wasn’t in a smiling mood. He had an instinctive feeling that he was making a mistake by staying and yet so great was her attraction, he was glad

Solo had persuaded him to stay.

He worked with two coloured boys for the next two hours. By then twenty pedal boats had been lined up on the sand and inspected. Harry gave orders for thirteen of them to be repaired and while the boys went off to get the paint and brushes, he looked at his watch and saw it was ten after noon.

He went to his cabin, took a quick shower, put on a clean shirt, then walked over to the restaurant and found his way around the back to the big, airy kitchen.

Solo, Nina, Randy and Manuel were already eating.

‘Come on; come on,’ Solo said, waving to a chair beside him. ‘You don’t have to work so hard. Sit down and eat before it’s all gone. You know Nina, my daughter.’

Nina didn’t look up. She was shelling a king size prawn. For all her reaction, Harry might not have been there.

Solo winked at him, introduced him to Manuel who gave him a curt nod and then pushed the dish of prawns over to him.

‘Help yourself, Harry. I see you’ve got the pedal boats out. How are they?’

Harry told him. He was sitting opposite Nina and he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to her, but she didn’t look up, and after eating two more prawns, she pushed back her chair and got up.

‘See you, Dad,’ she said and left the kitchen.

Harry tried to conceal a frown, but failed.

‘Don’t mind her,’ Solo said, seeing the frown. ‘She never spends long over lunch. I’ve got a heavy day at the market tomorrow. You want to come, Harry? Half-past five too early for you?’

‘Sure, I’ll come.’

Randy had made up a long list of liquor he wanted for the bar and while he discussed it with Solo, Harry finished his lunch.

Manuel left as Harry was eating apple pie. He didn’t attempt to conceal his hostility, but Harry ignored him. He was the least of Harry’s problems.

Randy went back to the bar, leaving Solo and Harry together.

Solo poured white wine into Harry’s glass.

‘I won’t have time to talk about my son until we go to market,’ he said. ‘I want to hear all about what it’s like out there. Sam is a fine boy. I miss him. He would have been a big help here, but he was drafted and he had to go.’

Harry drank the wine.

‘Yes.’ He stood up. ‘Well, he isn’t the only one.’

‘That’s right.’ Solo heaved a sigh. ‘It’s a bad thing. All that senseless killing.’ He shook his head and pushed back his chair. ‘Dinner’s at seven. If you want anything: a drink, coffee, anything come here and ask for it. Joe will take care of you.’ He nodded to a big, smiling negro who was filling saltcellars at a bench nearby.

‘I might want to take a look at the City one of these nights,’ Harry said casually. ‘What’s the transport like? Can I get a bus?’