Trash - Andy Mulligan [38]
‘What are they for?’ I said, taking a cigarette.
‘You counted them? How many today?’
‘Seven,’ I said, shading my eyes. There were seven cars round the fountain.
‘Yesterday there were twelve. Day before that … sixteen, and the president was here. Dropped in by helicopter.’
He started to laugh again. I passed a cigarette to Raphael, and we huddled back in the shade.
‘Those police down there, fooling about. Walking in the big man’s house, I don’t know why. It’s all over, as far as I can see – the show’s over, so what’s there to do? I guess they’re standing around, all asking the same questions. You know who lives here, don’t you? You know who you’re visiting?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The senator.’
The gardener was smiling at us wider than ever, with his head on one side. ‘I worked here twenty-two years,’ he said. ‘Spoken to him twice. First time I said, “Yes, sir,” and the second time I said, “Thank you, sir.” He’s the fattest man I ever saw too – they had to get a car sent back and made bigger for him. I’d get sick on the food he throws away!’ He coughed, and smoked deeper. ‘You know, I wish I could go inside. I want to go in there and hear what they’re saying. I can guess, though! It’s not hard to guess, maybe.’
‘About what?’ I said again. ‘What happened there, sir?’
‘He must be working hard, covering it all up, trying to save his face. He’ll spend anything not to look a fool.’
I said nothing then. Let him tell it, I thought – he’s getting to it. Raphael was right behind me, listening close, and the smoke was calming him.
The old man closed his eyes and sucked on his cigarette. ‘It does me good,’ he said, ‘just to think about it. I think all those policemen are standing around, all very polite, and saying, “Sir? Tell us again. How did you let your houseboy walk out of the door with six million dollars?” ’ He laughed loud and long, and Raphael started to smile too. So did I.
‘Six million dollars,’ the man said at last. ‘Picked them up and took them out of the door. You know how he did it?’
We both shook our heads, smiling wider. It felt good just to see the old man having such a fine time, remembering it.
‘Everyone here knows,’ he said, ‘but the papers don’t have everything – they don’t have the whole story yet. It was the boy they trusted.’
‘What did he do?’ I said. I could feel Raphael holding onto me tight, because it sounded like the pieces were fitting together. Once again, we knew we were close to whatever it was we were chasing.
‘The word is, he did it with a fridge.’
‘What?’ I said. ‘Did what with a fridge? You saying six million dollars … what—’
‘It’s what the guards say,’ he said. ‘One of the maids as well. The name’s in the papers, but they won’t say what he did. They won’t say why they killed him, either.’ The old man spat on the grass. ‘Well – he was the houseboy here. Worked here – I don’t know – not as long as me, but long. I knew him to talk to, smoke away with, and he was a nice enough boy. What I hear is that a little while back he gets told to buy a new fridge. The old one’s dead, and the man needs a fridge for all that food! So – the boy orders one, and men deliver it. The boy says, “Take the old one with you, please?” Fair enough, it’s got to go, it’s just junk to the senator. These delivery men, they have no objections – there’ll be parts they can sell. So they load it up, and our boy rides with them in the truck, with the gate pass. Chats with the guards, laughs – cool as cool. All on camera, so they say – the fridge, all roped up in sheets. But he doesn’t get down. He stays on the truck to show them a short cut. Then he stays all the way. Says he wants the fridge for himself, because he knows he can make something on it. So he gives them two thousand pesos to set it down just where he wants it – and that’s good money: nobody’s making problems with that kind of money. Some graveyard, they say – not even a house. And that’s the end of the trail. He’s never seen again.’
‘He’d put the money in the fridge?’ I said.
The gardener was laughing again. ‘That’s what everybody