Raylan_ A Novel - Elmore Leonard [27]
This evening she came in talking about Raylan Givens and Cuba felt a tug in his gut and thought, Shit, though it didn’t surprise him. The man kept on the job. He said to Layla, “How’d he get on us?”
“You worked for the Burgoynes.”
“You layin it on me? They already lookin at dead Crowes.”
“You had to do it,” Layla said. “But, you let the maid go, Rita.”
“I knew you’d bring her up.”
Layla stepped up to him in her nurse outfit, put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth from tender to hard. Finally easing off she said, “Don’t worry about it. But I think we should hold up on doing Harry. The marshal would’ve talked to him. Probably asked his wife a few questions. You got it on with her, didn’t you?”
“Not too much,” Cuba said. “I been thinking, I go see Mr. Harry and apologize for leavin, this poor, uneducated Negro not knowin shit how to act. But that darky skit depressed me. I tell him I got a new gig we can try.”
“What is it?”
“I make up something—bring tears to his motherfuckin racist eyes laughing. I say I got a tape he can listen to. Bring him here and you pop him with the needle.”
“How does he pay us, say, two hundred and fifty thousand?”
“I’m workin on it.”
Layla said, “We’re not doing Harry just yet. I’ve been thinking, we could be gathering a few more organs. Gregg Allman just had a liver transplant, he can drink again—yeaaah! We’ll extract kidneys, liver, lungs, pancreas. Hearts are too tricky. You have to keep it pumping.”
Cuba thinking, Like sellin used auto parts, a transmission, a manifold. She made it sound easy, reminding him that time, “You don’t do the Crowes they’ll tell on us.” Her bein cool about it’s what scared him. Like telling him to close the window so it don’t rain in.
“This might blow your mind,” Layla said, “but I’m thinking the one to do next is the marshal. We wouldn’t even have to lure him. Raylan has more questions for me.”
Cuba’s mind saw Dickie holding a gun while Raylan good as dared him to raise it. He said to Layla, “Where you want to do it, here?”
“I was thinking right in the tub, instead of lugging him around, then add water. I don’t see why we’d need ice.”
“How we get him out of here?”
“In the wee small hours of the morning,” Layla said, not quite singing it, “we drop him out the window, put him in the car . . . Or we wait till he’s coming to and walk him out to the car.”
“You haven’t figured it out yet,” Cuba said.
“I’m thinking,” Layla said. “We have until I decide to answer the phone.”
Chapter Twelve
Raylan didn’t want to be seen hanging around the fourth floor of Chandler, risk Layla spotting him and duck out. He stood outside, away from the entrance and watched nurses coming out till almost five. No sign of Layla. He went up to the transplant floor and found out she was off today. He called Nichols.
“You know it’s Saturday?” Raylan said.
“It wasn’t, I wouldn’t be mowin the lawn.”
“Layla’s off till Monday.”
“You call her home?”
“Her voice said leave a message and hung up.”
“You called last night you’d of had her in cuffs.”
“I wanted to give her time to get jumpy before I make my appearance.”
“I can stop mowin this minute,” Nichols said, “you want me along.”
“I got to locate her first. I’ll call her again or go over there, 156 Virginia Avenue, push her buzzer till she answers.”
“If she’s home,” Nichols said. “I’ll call you tomorrow, see how you’re doin. Come on over, we’ll grill steaks, have a few beers.”
“I was gonna tell you,” Raylan said, “I checked out of the Hilton, didn’t work with my per diem. I took a cab to the office and got a Chevy assigned to me—it’s okay—I’m not goin anywhere, but I’m now stayin at the Two Keys Tavern on South Limestone. I got an apartment upstairs, no charge.”
“You’re kiddin me,” Nichols said.
“So UK students don’t walk out skunked and get arrested or hit by a car. I spoke to management, I said if you have a spare room up there you can let me use while I’m in Lexington . . . I told him he’d have a U.S. marshal keeping the peace. The fella