Six Bad Things_ A Novel - Charlie Huston [119]
He holds his coffee cup up in a toast.
—And I tell him to call Dylan. Because, Henry, because you are a dangerous man. You have killed other dangerous men. There will be risks in dealing with you. I will let Dylan take those risks, and if he gets the money, I will take it from him. Because he is not a dangerous man.
—He has men.
—No. He does not.
I tear a corner off of a piece of toast.
—He is a liar, Henry. He will have told you that he has dangerous men, but he neither has the money to hire such men, nor the knowledge of where to find such specialists to do the things he will have threatened. To kill your mother and father at a whim. It is hard to kill people, Henry. The men who do it well are rare and prized. You should know that.
I push the plate of toast away. David Dolokhov pushes it back in front of me.
—Eat.
I take another painful bite.
—And now there is a great deal of farce, a great deal of following and losing and trailing. And new crazy men arriving to kill. And confusion. But when you run from California, I stay in Las Vegas to be near the home of your friend, where I think you may run to. And you do. I was here, Henry, watching when you came with your new friend and the large hound. I watched, and I realized something. You were searching.
He points an index finger at the ceiling. Eureka!
—You do not have the money. It is your friend all along. He has had the money, and now that you have come for it, he has run away so to keep it. And now I will watch what you do and you will find him for me. But that is not altogether correct, is it?
—No.
I tell him about sending Tim the money. He shakes his head again.
—And he took it to hide it from us?
—Yeah.
—And he came back for you, into the teeth of danger.
—Yeah.
—And you killed him.
—Yeah.
He nods. This is the way these things happen.
—He was a good friend.
—Yeah.
—But he did not tell you where the money is? Do not answer. Why else would you kill yourself? Or try. And what luck! I had lost you, Henry. I lost you almost as soon as I had found you. I fell asleep in my car outside of the Sam’s Town casino. And when I awoke? You were gone. I did not know where to look. But I still had Dylan. If you found the money, you would take it to him, and, so, good enough. And then a phone call from a man named Terry, an unreliable man. But I go to him anyway. And what do I find? Mayhem. Bloodshed. Grotesque.
He closes his eyes. That such things should be.
He opens his eyes.
—And so what now am I to do? Nothing. I can only wait and hope that you will contact Dylan and he will lead me to you. But! If I must wait, I will wait here, outside this building, and see perhaps if your friend makes a return. And last night. You come. With a woman and your friend with the hound, and you are hurt. And there is news on the radio of violence, and I know you have been in it. And I wait until you are alone. But still you are a dangerous man, and so I call for help. And while I wait, I see your friend appear! And he goes inside. And I wait, thinking that this will be it, the money is near and you will lead me to it, but no one comes out. A man arrives. My dangerous man. We come in here.
He turns on the stool and looks at Tim’s body. And we find this.
—My dangerous man takes your guns and goes outside. And I?
He leans toward me.
—I save your life, Henry. To find out where the money is. And you do not know where the money is. But I tell you this story. Why, Henry? Why are you still alive if you do not know where the money is?
I look at Tim’s corpse. Blood has soaked through the blanket that I used to cover him. Why am I still alive? Why has God not come out of his heaven to destroy me?
—I don’t know.
He smiles. His teeth are perfect.
—You are alive because you are a dangerous man. And I have uses for dangerous men.
DYLAN SHOWS a little later.
He knocks on the door and I tell him to come in and