'Then you'll wait until hell freezes over. Look, Jemmy: I've got fifteen operatives on to him now, and I'm no nearer finding out what he's up to than when I started. He's a smart cookie and he doesn't make mistakes -- not those kind of mistakes. He keeps himself covered all the time -- it's a reflex with him.'
'You'll agree he'll be interested in what we'll be doing in Quintana Roo?'
'Apparently so,' said Pat. 'He's certainly keeping tabs on this operation.'
Then he'll have to follow us there,' I said. 'He can't do anything from Mexico City. If he's so bloody interested in hypothetical treasure in Uaxuanoc, he'll have to go to Uaxuanoc to pick up the loot. Do you agree with that?'
'It's feasible,' said Pat judiciously. 'I can't see Jack being so trusting as to send anyone else -- not with what he thinks is at stake.'
'He won't be on his home ground, Pat. He's a civilized city type -- he'll be out of his depth. From what I can gather Quintana Roo is as unlike New York City as Mars is. He might make a mistake.'
Pat looked at me in astonishment. 'And what makes you think you're any different? I grant you that Gatt is a city type, but civilized he is not. Whereas you are a city type and civilized. Jemmy, you're a London accountant; you'll be just as much out of your depth in the Quintana Roo as Gatt.'
'Exactly,' I said. 'We'll be on equal terms -- which is more than can be said right now.'
He drained his glass and slammed it down on to the table with a bang. 'I think you're nuts,' he said disgustedly. 'You talk a weird kind of sense, but I still think you're nuts. You're as batty as Halstead.' He looked up. Tell me, can you handle a gun?'
'I've never tried,' I said. 'So I don't know.'
'For Christ's sake!' he said. 'What are you going to do if you do come up against Gatt on even terms, as you call it? Kiss him to death?'
'I don't know,' I said. 'I'll see when the time comes. I believe in handling situations as they happen.'
He passed his hand over his face in a bemused way and looked at me for a long time without saying anything. He took a deep breath. 'Let me outline a hypothetical situation,' he said mildly. 'Let us suppose that you've managed to separate Jack from his bodyguards, and that's a pretty foolish supposition in the first place, And let us suppose that there the two of you are, a pair of city slickers, babes in the wood.' He stuck out a rigid finger. The first -- and last -- thing you'd know was that Jack had bush-whacked you with a lupara, and you'd be in no condition to handle any situation.'
'Has Gatt ever killed anyone himself?' I asked.
'I'd guess so. He came up through the ranks in the Organization. Served his apprenticeship, you might say. Hell have done a killing or two in his younger days.'
'That's a long time ago,' I observed. 'Maybe he's out of practice.'
'Agh, there's no talking to you,' said Pat in a choked voice. 'If you have any brains you'll go back where you came from. I have to stick around, but at least I know what the score is. and I get paid for it. But you're the kind of guy that Kipling wrote about -- "If you can keep your head while all about you are losing theirs, then maybe you don't know what the hell is going on."'
I laughed. 'You have quite a talent for parody.'
'I'm not as good as Fallon,' he said gloomily. 'He's turned this whole operation into a parody of security. I used the bug Gatt planted on us to feed him a queer line, and what does Fallon do? He stages a goddamn TV spectacular, for God's sake! I wouldn't be surprised, when you fly down to that airstrip he's built, if you don't find the CBS cameras already rolling and hooked up into a coast-to-coast broadcast -- and a line of Rockettes from Radio City to give added interest. Every paisano in Mexico knows what's going on. Gatt doesn't have to bug us to find out what we're doing; all he has to do is to ask at any street corner.'
'It's a tough life,' I said sympathetically. 'Does Fallon usually behave like this?'
Harris shook his head. 'I don't know what's got into him. He's turned over control of his affairs to his brother -- given him power of attorney. His brother's a nice enough guy, but I wouldn't trust anyone that far with a hundred million bucks. He's thinking of nothing else but finding this city.'
'I don't know about that,' I said thoughtfully. 'He seems to be worried about something else. He goes a bit dreamy at unexpected moments.'
'I've noticed that, too. Something's bugging him, but he hasn't let me in on it.' Harris seemed resentful at the idea that something was being kept from him. He rose to his feet and stretched. 'I'm going to bed -- there's work to do tomorrow.'
IV
So there it was again!
First Sheila, and now Pat Harris. He hadn't said it as bluntly as Sheila, but he'd said it nevertheless. Apparently, my exterior appearance and mannerisms gave a good imitation of Caspar Milquetoast -- the nine-to-fiver, the commuter par excellence. The trouble was that I wasn't at all sure that the interior didn't match the exterior.
