`Emergencies?’ I said.
He didn’t come back on that. We just paid at the window and pulled back onto the highway. Carried on driving south. We were a half-hour from Margrave. It was approaching midnight.
`So what made you take off on Monday?’ I asked him.
`Kliner called me,’ he said. `He told me to stay home. He said two guys would be coming by. I asked him why, and he said there was a problem at the Florida end and I had to go sort it out.’
`But?’ I said.
`I didn’t believe him,’ he said. `Soon as he mentioned two guys, it flashed into my mind what had happened down in Jacksonville that first week. I panicked. I called the taxi and ran.’
`You did good, Hubble,’ I said. `You saved your life.’
`You know what?’ he said.
I glanced a question at him.
`If he’d said one guy, I wouldn’t have noticed,’
he said. `You know, if he’d said stay home, a guy is
coming by, I’d have fallen for it. But he said two
guys.,
‘He made a mistake,’ I said.
`I know,’ Hubble said. `I can’t believe it. He
never makes mistakes.’
I shook my head. Smiled in the dark. `He made a mistake last Thursday.’
The big chrome clock on the Bentley’s dash said midnight. I needed this whole deal over and done by five in the morning. So I had five hours. If all went well, that was way more than I needed. If I screwed up, it didn’t matter if I had five hours or five days or five years. This was a once-only thing. In and out. In the service we used to say: do it once and do it right. Tonight I was going to add: and do it quickly.
`Hubble?’ I said. `I need your help.’
He roused himself and looked over at me.
`How?’ he asked.
I spent the last ten minutes of the highway cruise
it
going over it. Over and over it, until he was totally solid. I swung off the highway where it met the county road. Blasted past the warehouses and on down the fourteen miles to town. Slowed as I passed the station house. It was quiet, lights off. No cars in the lot. The fire house next door looked OK. The town was silent and deserted. The only light showing in the whole place was in the barbershop.
I made the right onto Beckman and drove up the rise to Hubble’s place. Turned in at the familiar white mailbox and spun the wheel through the curves up the driveway. Pulled up at the door.
`My car keys are in the house,’ Hubble said.
`It’s open,’ I said.
He went to check it out. Pushed at the splintered door gingerly, with one finger, like it might be booby-trapped. I saw him go in. A minute later, he was back out. He had his keys, but he didn’t walk round to the garage. He came back over to me and leaned into the car.
`It’s a hell of a mess in there,’ he said. `What’s been going on?’
`I used this place for an ambush,’ I said. `Four guys were tramping all over the place looking for me. It was raining at the time.’
He leaned down and looked in at me.
`Were they the ones?’ he said. `You know, the
ones Kliner would have sent if I’d talked?’ I nodded.
`They had all their gear with them,’ I said.
I could see his face in the dim glow from the old dials on the dash. His eyes were wide open, but he wasn’t seeing me. He was seeing what he’d seen in his nightmares. He nodded slowly. Then he reached in and put his hand on my arm. Squeezed
it. Didn’t speak. Then he ducked back out and was gone. I was left sitting there, wondering how the hell I’d ever hated the guy a week ago.
I used the time to reload the Desert Eagle. I replaced the four shells I’d used out there on the highway near Augusta. Then I saw Hubble drive his old green Bentley around from the garage. The engine was cold and he was trailing a cloud of white vapour. He gave me a thumbs-up as he passed and I followed the white cloud down the driveway and down Beckman. We passed by the church and turned left onto Main Street in stately procession. Two fine old cars, nose to tail through the sleeping town, ready to do battle.