his glass and said, “Cheers.”
“Yeah.” She downed her drink in one gulp. “Wha’ for you wanna give Angel two million dollars?”
“That’s something I’ll have to discuss with him in person.”
“Tha’s not possible. Angel, he don’ talk to nobody.”
“Lady, for two million dollars—”
“Kin I have ‘nother rum? A double, huh?”
My God, she already looks like she’s about to pass out. “Sure.” Lantz summoned the waiter and ordered the drink. “Have you known Angel a long time?” He made his tone casual.
She shrugged. “Yeah.”
“He must be an interesting man.”
Her vacant eyes were fixed on a spot on the table in front of her.
Jesus! Harry Lantz thought. It’s like trying to have a conversation with a fucking wall.
Her drink arrived, and she finished it in one long swallow.
She has the body of a cow and the manners of a pig. “How soon can I talk to Angel?”
Neusa Muñez struggled to her feet. “I tol’ you, he don’ talk to nobody. Adios.”
Harry Lantz was filled with a sudden panic. “Hey! Wait a minute! Don’t go.”
She stopped and looked down at him with bleary eyes. “What you wan’?”
“Sit down,” Lantz said slowly, “and I’ll tell you what I want.”
She sat down heavily. “I need a rum, huh?”
Harry Lantz was baffled. What the fuck kind of man is this Angel? His mistress is not only the ugliest broad in all of South America, but she’s a lush.
Lantz did not like dealing with drunks. They were too unreliable. On the other hand, he hated the thought of losing his fifty-thousand-dollar commission. He watched as Muñez gulped her drink. He wondered how many she had had before coming to meet him.
Lantz smiled and said reasonably, “Neusa, if I can’t talk to Angel, how can I do business with him?”
“Ess simple. You tell me what you wan’. I tell Angel. If he say si , I tell you si. If he say no , I tell you no. ”
Harry Lantz distrusted using her as a go-between, but he had no choice. “You’ve heard of Marin Groza.”
“No.”
Of course she hadn’t. Because it wasn’t the name of a rum. This stupid bitch was going to get the message all wrong and screw up the deal for him.
“I need a drink, huh?”
He patted her fat hand. “Certainly.” He ordered another double rum. “Angel will know who Groza is. You just say Marin Groza. He’ll know.”
“Yeah? Then wha’?”
She was even stupider than she looked. What the fuck did she think Angel was supposed to do for two million dollars? Kiss the guy? Harry Lantz said carefully, “The people who sent me want him blown away.”
She blinked. “Whas ‘blown away’?”
Christ! “Killed.”
“Oh.” She nodded indifferently. “I’ll ass’ Angel.” Her voice was beginning to slur even more. “Wha’ you say the man’s name is?”
He wanted to shake her. “Groza. Marin Groza.”
“Yeah. My baby’s outa town. I’ll call him tonight an’ meet you here tomorrow. Kin I have ‘nother rum?”
Neusa Muñez was turning out to be a nightmare.
The following evening, Harry Lantz sat at the same table in the bar from midnight until four in the morning, when the bar closed. Muñez did not appear.
“Do you know where she lives?” Lantz asked the bartender.
The bartender looked at him with innocent eyes. “¿Quién sabe?”
The bitch had fouled everything up. How could a man who was supposed to be as smart as Angel get hooked up with such a rum dummy? Harry Lantz prided himself on being a pro. He was too smart to walk into a deal like this without first checking it out. He had cautiously asked around, and the information that impressed him most was that the Israelis had put a price of a million dollars on Angel’s head. A million bucks would buy a lifetime worth of booze and young hookers. Well, he could forget about that and he could forget about his fifty thousand. His only link to Angel had been broken. He would have to call The Man and tell him he had failed.
I won’t
“Yeah.” She downed her drink in one gulp. “Wha’ for you wanna give Angel two million dollars?”
“That’s something I’ll have to discuss with him in person.”
“Tha’s not possible. Angel, he don’ talk to nobody.”
“Lady, for two million dollars—”
“Kin I have ‘nother rum? A double, huh?”
My God, she already looks like she’s about to pass out. “Sure.” Lantz summoned the waiter and ordered the drink. “Have you known Angel a long time?” He made his tone casual.
She shrugged. “Yeah.”
“He must be an interesting man.”
Her vacant eyes were fixed on a spot on the table in front of her.
Jesus! Harry Lantz thought. It’s like trying to have a conversation with a fucking wall.
Her drink arrived, and she finished it in one long swallow.
She has the body of a cow and the manners of a pig. “How soon can I talk to Angel?”
Neusa Muñez struggled to her feet. “I tol’ you, he don’ talk to nobody. Adios.”
Harry Lantz was filled with a sudden panic. “Hey! Wait a minute! Don’t go.”
She stopped and looked down at him with bleary eyes. “What you wan’?”
“Sit down,” Lantz said slowly, “and I’ll tell you what I want.”
She sat down heavily. “I need a rum, huh?”
Harry Lantz was baffled. What the fuck kind of man is this Angel? His mistress is not only the ugliest broad in all of South America, but she’s a lush.
Lantz did not like dealing with drunks. They were too unreliable. On the other hand, he hated the thought of losing his fifty-thousand-dollar commission. He watched as Muñez gulped her drink. He wondered how many she had had before coming to meet him.
Lantz smiled and said reasonably, “Neusa, if I can’t talk to Angel, how can I do business with him?”
“Ess simple. You tell me what you wan’. I tell Angel. If he say si , I tell you si. If he say no , I tell you no. ”
Harry Lantz distrusted using her as a go-between, but he had no choice. “You’ve heard of Marin Groza.”
“No.”
Of course she hadn’t. Because it wasn’t the name of a rum. This stupid bitch was going to get the message all wrong and screw up the deal for him.
“I need a drink, huh?”
He patted her fat hand. “Certainly.” He ordered another double rum. “Angel will know who Groza is. You just say Marin Groza. He’ll know.”
“Yeah? Then wha’?”
She was even stupider than she looked. What the fuck did she think Angel was supposed to do for two million dollars? Kiss the guy? Harry Lantz said carefully, “The people who sent me want him blown away.”
She blinked. “Whas ‘blown away’?”
Christ! “Killed.”
“Oh.” She nodded indifferently. “I’ll ass’ Angel.” Her voice was beginning to slur even more. “Wha’ you say the man’s name is?”
He wanted to shake her. “Groza. Marin Groza.”
“Yeah. My baby’s outa town. I’ll call him tonight an’ meet you here tomorrow. Kin I have ‘nother rum?”
Neusa Muñez was turning out to be a nightmare.
The following evening, Harry Lantz sat at the same table in the bar from midnight until four in the morning, when the bar closed. Muñez did not appear.
“Do you know where she lives?” Lantz asked the bartender.
The bartender looked at him with innocent eyes. “¿Quién sabe?”
The bitch had fouled everything up. How could a man who was supposed to be as smart as Angel get hooked up with such a rum dummy? Harry Lantz prided himself on being a pro. He was too smart to walk into a deal like this without first checking it out. He had cautiously asked around, and the information that impressed him most was that the Israelis had put a price of a million dollars on Angel’s head. A million bucks would buy a lifetime worth of booze and young hookers. Well, he could forget about that and he could forget about his fifty thousand. His only link to Angel had been broken. He would have to call The Man and tell him he had failed.
I won’t
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