The Piranhas (9 page)

“I want you on the plane before any other passengers get on. We will escort you aboard the plane. Then I will have my two detectives at the foot of the ramp checking the other passengers boarding. They saw three men in the car with Colombian plates.”

“You don’t think they would be here?” she asked.

“I don’t want to take any chances,” he said. He picked up her compact valise and the other small valise that she was carrying on board. “Come,” he said.

We left the airport through the employee door. Alma and I walked across the crossway to the plane, the captain leading us, and two detectives, one at our side and one following behind. Silently we climbed the steps into the plane. It took a moment for my eyes to get adjusted to the dark after the bright sunlight outside.

A stewardess smiled at us.
“Bienvenido
, Señorita Vargas and Mr. Stevens.
Estoy
Señorita Marisa.”

Alma smiled at her. She spoke in Spanish. The stewardess nodded. Apparently they knew each other. The girl led us forward to our seats. We were seated in the last row of first class with our backs to a bulkhead.

“You should be comfortable,” the stewardess said. “There are only two other passengers in first class.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“May I serve you some champagne?” she asked.

“Yes,
gracias,
” Alma responded. Then she looked up at Captain Gonzales as she slipped into the window seat. “Will you join us, Captain?” she asked.

He shook his head as he placed her valises in the overhead rack. “No, thanks, I’m still working.”

“I’m sure that there is nothing to worry about now,” she said.

“I’ll stop worrying when you’ve taken off,” he said. “Enjoy your champagne. They’re starting to board the passengers and I want to check them out with my men. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The stewardess placed a bottle of champagne and glasses before us. Quickly she filled our glasses, then walked out to the entrance to greet the new passengers.

I held my glass to Alma. “We’re getting great service,” I said. “Gonzales is keeping a close eye on us. I wonder what he knows that we don’t.”

“He’s a policeman,” she said. “They like to make themselves important.”

“It’s more than that,” I said, thinking about how quickly he had followed me into the toilet. “But I’m not complaining. If it weren’t for him we would be in the shithouse.”

“It’s over now,” she said. “We’re on our way to the States.”

“Yes,” I said, then cursed. “Damn, I didn’t have time to call my uncle. He’ll be worried.”

“You’ll be in New York in ten hours,” she said. “You can call him from JFK.” She refilled our glasses. “Relax. We’ll have a pleasant flight. Air Peru’s DC 8s are more comfortable than Braniff’s 707s, even if they are a little slower. We’ll be able to stretch out.”

“I’ve never been able to stretch out on a plane,” I said.

She smiled. “That’s because you’ve never flown with me. I’ll hold your prick all the way. I’ll powder it with a little cocaine and you’ll be flying on your own.”

“You’re a real cunt,” I said.

“No.” She laughed. “Peruvian pussy.”

We touched glasses again. I looked up as another couple were escorted up the aisle to their seats. They were middle-aged, very well dressed. The woman wore a mink coat, and her hands sparkled with diamonds. The man took off his homburg, revealing thin curls of white hair; his eyes were hidden by shaded French-type eyeglasses. I watched as they seated themselves and the stewardess served them champagne.

Captain Gonzales returned. “Everything’s in order,” he said. “The passengers are all boarded. It’s a very light flight. There are only forty-seven passengers in the back.”

“Maybe you can now join us in a glass of champagne?” Alma said.

“No, thanks again,” he said apologetically. “I will have to fill in papers at headquarters for hours.” He held out his hand to me. “Good luck, Mr. Stevens. It is an honor to have met you.”

“The honor is all mine, Captain Gonzales,” I said, pressing his hand. “Thank you for everything you have done for us.”

“Por nada,”
he said, then reached for Alma’s hand and kissed it respectfully.
“Hasta luego
, Señorita Vargas.”

Alma nodded to him.
“Mil gracias, Capitán,”
she said. “Is there one more favor I can ask of you?”

“Anything,” he said.

“We will arrive between two and three in the morning in New York. Would you be kind enough to send a telex to my hotel and have them send a limousine to the airport?”

“I will attend to it immediately, Señorita Vargas,” he said, then, touching his hand to his cap in a half-salute, he turned around and walked off the plane.

I heard the click as the doors closed behind us, and the whine of the jet engines began to whistle in my ears. I turned and watched her. Her face was turned toward the window and she was looking at the ground. I leaned over her shoulder and could see the captain and his men walking back to the terminal. The voice came through the intercom explaining the safety instructions in both Spanish and English as the plane rolled slowly onto the runway.

The plane turned slowly onto the head of the runway. The brakes held the plane, and the jets began to rev up. Suddenly Alma’s hand held mine. Her grip tightened as we began to race down the runway. There was a faint whine, and then we were airborne. She turned to me, her face pale. “It always frightens me,” she said.

But I wasn’t thinking about what she was saying. I was thinking about her asking the captain to telex her hotel. It was just now that I realized she had never told the captain which hotel. She placed her hand on my thigh. “The Hotel Pierre,” I said.

She looked at me. “What about it?”

“You never told the captain its name.”

She laughed. “I told you that we had been old friends. He knew many years ago that my
partón
had given me an apartment there.”

*   *   *

IT WAS SLIGHTLY
more than three hours and two bottles of champagne into the flight, and I was dozing, when the stewardess placed her hands on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and looked up at her.

She held a fresh bottle of champagne. “Congratulations,” she said. “We are just passing over the equator.”

I turned to Alma. “Did you sleep?” I asked.

“A little,” she answered as the stewardess poured the champagne and went forward to the other passengers. Alma held her glass to mine and leaned over and kissed me.

“Congratulations to you, too.” I smiled and kissed her.

“I have a special present for you,” she said laughingly. She pressed something into my hand.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Smell it,” she said.

I held it to my nose. “It smells like pussy and perfume.”

She laughed. “You guessed right. It’s my bikini panties. They are still damp. I slipped them off after you fell asleep. Put them into your breast jacket pocket. Everyone will think you are wearing a handkerchief.”

I stuck them in my pocket. “You’re crazy,” I said.

“Not really,” she answered. “I just want to give you something that will remind you of when we crossed the equator at thirty thousand feet.”

“You took me higher than that without a plane.” I smiled.

The stewardess came back. “Dinner will be served,” she said.

11

I FELT HER
hand on my shoulder and I rolled over in the comfortable bed and opened my eyes. Daylight poured in through the window. She was already dressed. She looked down at me and smiled. “You were sleeping pretty good,” she said.

I shook the cobwebs out of my head. “What time is it?”

“Twelve-thirty,” she answered.

I bolted half out of the bed. “I have to call my uncle.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I already called him. I told him that you were sleeping. He asked that you call him at two o’clock.”

I stared at her. “Where did you get his number?”

“Don’t you remember?” she asked. “You had me call him from Lima. I never forget telephone numbers.”

“How did he seem?” I asked.

“Okay, I guess,” she answered. “Kind of sad though.”

“Was he surprised that it was you that called?” I asked.

“No,” she answered. She gestured to a table near the bed. “We have orange juice, coffee, and real American Danish.”

“I’ll have the coffee,” I said, swinging my legs off the bed. The coffee felt good. Strong and hot. My head began to clear. “What time did you wake up?”

“Eight,” she said.

“Why so early?” I asked. “It had to be after four in the morning before we fell asleep.”

“I had some things to do, calls to make,” she answered.

A chime rang from the apartment door. “That must be the valet,” she said hurriedly. “I have a number of things that need pressing. I’ll get that arranged while you grab yourself a shave and shower.” She picked up two of her medium-sized valises and took them into the living room, closing the door behind her.

I filled my coffee cup again and took it into the bathroom with me. I drank it as I opened the medicine cabinet for a razor, but couldn’t find one. I thought a moment, then wrapped a bath towel around me and walked to the door that led to the living room.

Her back was toward me as I opened the door. Two men were standing across the table from her. There were two leather valises on the table next to her Louis Vuittons. Her valises were open, and she was handing cellophane packages of white powder to the men, who were placing them into their own valises.

“Twenty-two kilos,” she said, and then one of the men saw me and took an automatic from his jacket.

She turned to me.

I felt stupid. “I was looking for a razor,” I said.

“Put your gun away,” she said coolly. “He’s Di Stefano’s nephew.”

The man looked at me. “The one that went with Angelo?”

“Yes,” she said, then turned back to me. “The razor is in the drawer at the side of the sink.”

I nodded and closed the door behind me. I went back to the bathroom. Suddenly I felt sick and threw up into the toilet. Nothing made sense to me anymore.

I turned to the sink and stared at myself in the mirrored sliding doors of the medicine cabinet. I looked like shit, pale and sweating, and my mouth felt sour. I slid open the mirrored door and took out a bottle of Lavoris I had seen earlier.

I emptied the bottle before I was able to gargle out the taste in my mouth. I found the razor, an old double-edged Gillette, but there was no shaving cream, so I covered my face heavily with the faintly feminine soap on the basin. The razor blade was not too bad, but my hands were a little shaky, so I wound up with a few nicks. I held a hot washcloth against my face to take off the small spots of blood, then placed little pieces of damp toilet paper on the nicks to stop the bleeding.

I sat on the toilet until the toilet paper dried, then went into the shower and hit myself with ice-cold water. I was shivering when I stepped out and wrapped myself with a heavy Turkish-towel bath sheet. I looked at the mirror again. I didn’t look too bad this time. Quickly I combed my hair and opened the door to walk back into the bedroom.

Alma was seated at the edge of the bed, looking up at me. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said, reaching for my clothes from the closet. The only thing I saw in the closet were my suits and shoes. I took my valise out and put it on the bed.

“Your shirts, underwear, and socks are in the bottom drawer there,” she said, pointing to the chest of drawers.

I dressed while she sat there watching me silently. I began to throw my clothes into the empty valise. I didn’t pack it very neatly, but I managed to close the valise and lock it. I picked it up off the bed and made for the door.

She was still seated at the edge of the bed. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“I can use my father’s old apartment,” I said.

“Wait. Please. I can explain things to you,” she said.

“What more can you explain? With more lies?” I said sarcastically.

“I thought we were friends and lovers,” she said.

“The only thing we had between us were friendly fucks,” I said.

“We were fighting for our lives,” she said.

“But we survived,” I said angrily. “And you never told me where you fit into it. I thought you were coming to New York with me, not to carry in twenty-two kilos of cocaine.”

“That was delivered to your uncle’s associates,” she said.

“And, of course, you got nothing for it.” I was still angry. “I was a stupid fool.”

“No,” she said softly. “Your uncle and the general had an agreement for many years. I was part of it. I continued working for your uncle after the general died, how else do you think I could live? The general left me everything but money.”

“Where did Angelo fit into it?” I asked.

“He was my contact for that last five years,” she answered. “And I was his. He needed someone he could trust who could speak Spanish.”

“You were lovers?” I questioned.

“Not really,” she said. “I would say that we were more like business associates. We had a fuck once in a while but it meant nothing to either of us.”

“My uncle knew about you?”

“Yes,” she said. “Since I was seventeen. The first time the general brought me to New York.”

“And you’ve been carrying all that time?”

“It was arranged,” she said. “They had everything on both sides, Lima and New York. And I was the perfect courier, first coming in and out for school, then as a model through the biggest agencies.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t,” she said. “I didn’t know how much you knew, so I had to be quiet. Angelo also never told you anything.”

I shook my head. “Jesus,” I said, then looked at her again. “The captain, was he in on it too?”

“Yes,” she said. “It was one of his jobs to protect you in the airport. You remember he followed you to the toilet?”

I nodded.

“It’s good he did,” she said. “I saw Vincent following you there and I told the captain.”

“Then you know what happened there?” I asked.

“Yes. Your uncle told me when I spoke to him this morning.”