the Hunted (1977) (23 page)

Get some development capital from him. Cash.

Sneak it into the country. Nothing signed with him
, no written agreements. Harry had to die sometime.

Valenzuela saw himself sitting here with a growin
g business. Let his wife keep wondering where h e was. Let her bitch and never have to listen to he r again.

On the phone, talking to Rashad, he said
, "Okay, stay there. Teddy's due to call or come b y here in about . . . fifteen, twenty minutes. We'l l meet you outside the hotel."

"Israeli girls are funny," Davis was saying to Rose
n at ten that morning, in the kitchen having coffee.

"Or maybe all girls are funny, I mean different, an
d I don't know how to read them."

"It's a knack," Rosen said. "First you've got t
o never be awed. Though you're polite, of course."

"This girl I picked up one time at the Shalo
m Tower," Davis said. "We're getting along fine, having a coffee. She says she's meeting her girlfriend from England at the El Al terminal. So we pick he r up, a really good-looking girl with the long blond e hair and the English accent and all, and we go t o the Israeli girl's apartment. She says she's got a bottle of wine there and some hash. So I'm thinking fine, one girl or the other, I can't miss. We get to th e apartment, the Israeli girl's hus band's there. Liste n to this. I end up talking to the husband about th e West Bank situation while the two broads are off i n the bedroom making out."

He was never sure Rosen listened, becaus
e Rosen seldom commented. He would start talkin g right away, saying something that didn't alway s follow.

"I learned a long time ago," Rosen said, "th
e most overrated thing in the world--you kno w what it is?"

"What?"

"Teenage pussy. That young stuff, you say, o
h man--they don't even know half the time wha t to do with it. They're thinking about their hair.

Their minds jump around too much. From m
y experience--you don't have to believe this, but it'
s true--the best is a younger middle-aged woma n recently divorced or widowed. By recently I mea n within a couple of years. I'll qualify that still further. Naturally she's got to be good-looking and you don't want a real fat one or one that wears a lo t of makeup to hide her age and looks great only i n the Hilton lounge, but after--you know what I m ean. It's true. Good-looking, stylish, middle-age d broads with some background, you know, somebody you can talk to. Otherwise, if all you want's a jump, get a whore, it's cheaper. No, but you se e stylish tourist ladies--you see them all the time a t the King David, the Hilton, the International. Well , the International, I'm not so sure. But which one s do you think'd be better in bed, the tourist ladie s that stay at the King David or the ones that stay a t the Hilton? You've been to the Hilton, haven't you?

In Jerusalem?"

"Yeah, I've been there."

"And you know what the King David look
s like."

"Sure."

"Okay, which you think would be better?"

"What's the difference?" Davis said.

"I'll tell you," Rosen said, in the kitchen of th
e desert house, seated at the table, looking up a t Davis standing by the sink. "The Hilton lady, usually her clothes are more expensive. She spends a little more on herself, her hair, and she's more likel y to wear designer labels. The King David lady is a little plainer on the average, though in very goo d taste. She's quieter and not as easy to meet. Bu t once you get next to her--you know what I meant he King David lady is better in bed. You kno w why?"

"Why?"

"Because usually it's been a longer time sinc
e she's had it. She's more grateful and, hence, sh e gives more of herself."

"That's interesting," Davis said.

"It's a fact, based on research," Rosen said.

"Eight out of ten divorced wives of doctors and orthodontists who stay at the King David are better in bed. Make it sound more scientific."

Davis put his cup in the sink. His hand came u
p and touched the Colt holstered beneath his jacket.

"Well, listen, I'd like to stay and chat with yo
u some more, but I think I better get going."

"You come back," Rosen said, "bring me som
e Winstons. Hey . . . and my passport."

Rashad had to look for the gray Mercedes; first
, standing in the shade of the canopy over the entrance, then seeing he'd have to walk through the aisles of cars. He found it parked down near th e end of a row. The engine was running and the airconditioning was on. Rashad stooped at the window on Teddy's side, looking past Teddy at Valenzuela.

"You see him go in? The Marine?"

"He's in there?" Valenzuela straightened.

"It was good I saw him first. I'm standing in th
e lobby. I turn around, he's walking over to the desk."

"Yeah? What'd he do?"

"He got in a elevator, went upstairs."

"How long ago was that?"

"Five minutes," Rashad said. "I just seen him. I
c ouldn't believe it, I turn around, there he is wit h his cap on."

"But no sign of Rosen, uh?"

"No, I looked around some."

"How about the girl, Tali?"

"She went up before, with the woman."

Valenzuela nodded. "Then the Marine come
s and he goes up. Like they have it arranged." Valenzuela was silent a moment. "You didn't see the girl at the airport. Just the woman."

"That's right," Rashad said.

"So she got a ride or she drove his car. We'll loo
k around for it." Valenzuela was silent again. H
e shrugged. "Then see what happens."

Edie, sitting on the bed, told them the story of ho
w the charter flight had been cancelled yesterday afte r they'd waited around the airport for hours, of the n going back to the Hilton on the tour bus, anothe r hour, and of waiting again while the baggage wa s unloaded and carried up to the room, of then no t having anything to do yesterday afternoon. . . .

Tali sat there patiently. Davis sat there thinking
, Come on, get to the end!

. . . Then this morning doing it all over again
, going out to the airport at seven, two hours earlier , waiting some more, going through security, and th e charter finally leaving at ten.

Why is it so important to her? Davis was thinking.

Why didn't she ask about Rosen? She had asked
, yes, how he was. But why wouldn't he be the onl y thing on her mind? Tali must have talked to he r yesterday and explained a little of the situation.

Why wasn't she concerned about him? No, peopl
e had their own concerns--cancelled flights--tha t were just as important.

He said, "You have his passport?"

"I thought I was going to see him," Edie said
, surprised now after all that.

"In case he doesn't get by this way," Davis said.

"I don't know what his plans are."

"Well, if that's the way he wants to be," Edi
e said. "If he wants to keep on being the myster y man . . ."

Davis looked at Tali as the woman went over t
o her suitcase and pulled out Rosen's safari jacket.

Tali glanced at him, but her expression told hi
m nothing.

"Tell him we're leaving here tomorrow afternoon at five-thirty," Edie said. "If he wants to call me, I think it would be nice."

"There's no phone where he is," Davis said.

"Maybe you don't understand. He's in a lot o
f trouble."

Edie came over to hand him the jacket. "Maybe I
d on't understand," she said. "According to Tali , some crazy people are trying to kill him. But I kno w he tends to be a little dramatic. The mysteriou s American living in the Middle East. Am I suppose d to believe he's a spy, something like that? I'll sa y one thing, he's entertaining. But I'm afraid I don'
t have enough motivation or incentive to wai t around while Al Rosen plays his games, or whatever he's doing. If he wants to see me today or tomorrow, fine. If he doesn't, well . . . his passport and sunglasses are in the pocket."

"I'll tell him," Davis said.

Tali brought the black Mercedes up to the front entrance and when Davis got in and they drove off, turning south, she continued to tell him about th e woman, saying she thought the woman had no feeling or the woman had something else on her mind.

"She was very nervous yesterday," Tali said
, "when I drove her to her hotel. Then I didn't see he r again until this morning."

"How about Mati?" Davis said. Find that ou
t first.

"He went back to Tel Aviv."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I drove him to the highway to hitchhike.

The woman . . . I thought she was worried abou
t Mr. Rosen, but now I think she believes I wa s telling her a story. Something Mr. Rosen thought o f to kid her with."

"That's something he can worry about," Davi
s said, "if he wants to." Davis was half turned on th e seat, watching the road through the rear window.

"Yes, if he wants to," Tali said. "But I think she'
s too old for him."

"He's older than she is."

"He's not. Mr. Rosen is forty. He told me. Tha
t woman is at least forty-five. He'll still be youn g when she's old."

Davis had the jacket on his lap, Rosen's passpor
t in the pocket.

Forget it. People lived in their own world and believed what they wanted to believe. They worried about the wrong things. Little pissy things with bi g problems staring at them. Tali was doing it. She believed in Rosen. She honored him. She was probably in love with the old bullshitter and didn't even know it.

"Have you been to the doctor's house?"

"Yes, once with Mr. Rosen."

"You travel with him?"

"Sometimes I do."

"His idea is to leave Israel for a while and the
n come back."

"Not go to the States?"

"No."

"He talked about that when I saw him last tim
e in Netanya," Tali said. "About going home, if h e could do it."

"He's decided he likes it here," Davis said.

"Good. I know, the time I'm with him, he can b
e very happy."

"He thinks they'll get tired of looking for him after a while."

"Yes, why not? If they see it's so very hard t
o catch him, then they stop and say oh well, neve r mind."

"You and Rosen," Davis said, "you live in
a dream world. He's got a friend, or somebody h e knows, guy left home, ran out on his wife and kid s and owed people a lot of money. He said for te n years this guy hid out, changed his name, move d around. And you know what?--this is what Rose n says--nobody was looking for him. They were gla d he was gone. That's the way Rosen thinks it'll b e with him."

"I believe it," Tali said.

"Well, if nobody's interested in him, how com
e they're here?"

"Because of his picture. But that was an accident," Tali said. "He can be careful; it won't happen to him again."

"We've got to get him out of here first," Davi
s said. "I was thinking, drive him down to Sharm e l Sheikh and fly Arkia out of there. Maybe go t o Tiberias, some place like that."

"Of course, all the places he can go, he woul
d never be catched." She shrugged, cocking her hea d to one side. "Then they get tired and go home. I'
m not worry about that part. If he agrees it would b e easy."

"What part are you worrying about?" Davi
s said.

"You." Tali glanced at him and brought her gaz
e back to the road. "I'm afraid you'll talk to hi m about fighting a war with them."

"He can do what he wants," Davis said. "I'
m not in this anymore. . . . Here's where you turn."

The security man at the south beach checkpoin
t came over to the car smiling, shaking his head at hi s friend Teddy Cass. "No, he wasn't by here thi s morning. I know that car. It's a very good car, th e green one, but I still don't see it."

When they had turned around and were headin
g north again, Teddy said, "Between here and the hotel. That's only about a five-mile stretch. What'd we pass?"

"There was one road," Valenzuela said. "Th
e only one I saw."

"Where?"

"You'll see it."

There was no sign at Wadi Shlomo, only the indication of a road: the two ruts in the hardpack that followed the dry creek bed up into the desert.

Rashad got out with an Uzi and ran ahead of th
e car, scouting each bend and rise, then waving th e gray Mercedes to come on. It was slow. Rasha d was cautious, but he was also eager and knew i t wouldn't be long.