The Dark Arena - Mario Puzo [113]
On one of these afternoons, two weeks after the burial, Mosca heard the quiet broken by footsteps in the hall and then there was a knock. He got out of bed and put on his trousers. He went to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.
Before him was the face he had seen only once but would never forget. Honny, with his skullpap of yellow hair, his fleshy nose and heavy freckles. Honny smiled and asked, “May I come in?”
Mosca stepped aside, then closed the door. Honny rested his briefcase on the table and looked around the room, thai said pleasantly to Mosca, “I'm sorry if I woke you.”
“I was just getting up,” Mosca said.
The little blond man said slowly, “I was sorry, very sorry to hear about your wife.” He smiled uncertainly.
Mosca turned and walked to the bed. “We weren't married,” Mosca said.
“Ah, so.” Honny nervously passed his hand over the bald front of his head until he could feel the reassuring silkiness of the hair farther back. “I came to tell you something very important”
Mosca cut in, “I have no cigarettes.”.
Honny said gravely, “I know you have no cigarettes, that you are not a PX manager, that I know since Wolfgang went back to America.”
Mosca smiled at him. “So what.”
“No, you misunderstand,” Honny said quickly. “I came to tell you about Yergen. That penicillin he gave you he bought through me. I was the intermediary.” He stopped for a moment. “Yergen knew it was defective, he only paid a fraction of the usual price to the contact I gave him. You see?”
Mosca had to sit on the bed. He put his hand on the scar, his stomach hurt Suddenly he had a great throbbing headache. Yergen, Yergen, he thought, Yergen who had done so much for them, made Hella happy, whose daughter Hella loved. He felt a sick humiliation that Yergen could trick him so and into such sorrow. He bowed his face into his hands.
Honny was speaking again, gently. “I learned you refused to go on with Wolfs scheme. I am not stupid. That means you spared my life. Believe me if I had known that Yergen meant his goods for you I would have stopped him. I learned too late. Yergen was willing to sacrifice me, and he was willing to sacrifice your woman.” He saw that Mosca still sat on the bed with his face in his hands and so he said even more softly, “I have good news. Yergen is back in Bremen, in his old place. Your landlady, Frau Meyer, sent word to him that all was in order, that he need have no fear.”
Mosca stood up from the bed. He said quietly, “You're not lying?”
“No, I do not lie,” Honny said. IBs face had gone dead white and the freckles stood out on his skin like spots of grease. “If you think back, you will know I do not lie.”
Mosca went to the wardrobe and unlocked it. He felt himself moving quickly and though his head was aching he felt almost happy. From the wardrobe he took a bode of blue American Express checks, signed five of them. They were each for a hundred dollars. He showed them to Honny. “Get Yergen to come here tonight and these belong to you.”
Honny backed away. “No, no,” he said, “I cannot do that. What made you think I can do that?”
Mosca held out the blue checks and took a step toward him. Honny backed away, murmuring, “No, no I cannot do it.” Mosca saw that he would not He took the man's briefcase from the table and gave it to him. “Thanks for telling me, anyway.’ he said.
Alone, he stood in the center of the room. His head pounded as if a great vein was filling and emptying itself with each giant blood stroke of his heart. He felt a little faint, as if his lungs could not swallow the close air of the room. He finished dressing and left the billet.
Out in the street he was surprised by the warmth