Free Mr Majestyk (1974) by Elmore Leonard Page A

yellow truck all the way up the side road.
    "It could be him this time," Ritchie said. "Hang on."
    He was speaking to another deputy who was sitting inside a tool shed by a p olice-frequency two-way radio. It was hotter than hell inside and the door wa s o pen so he could get some air. The shed hadn't been built for people to sit in , but it was the best they could do. Besides the shed, there was a mobil e g enerator, a tar pot, some grading equipment, a pile of gravel, a portabl e t oilet that looked like a rounded phone booth without windows, wooden barricade s a nd lanterns and a sign that said ROAD CONSTRUCTION 500 FT., though nothing wa s g oing on. The only ones here were Ritchie and the deputy operating the radio , both of them in work clothes.
    "Yeah, it's him," Ritchie said now, lowering the glasses and watching Majestyk' s p ickup come out of the side road without stopping and swing onto the highway.
    "Jesus Christ, I could arrest him for that," Ritchie said. "Tell them he jus t d rove out in his truck, yellow four-wheel-drive pickup, heading toward Edna. I' m g etting on him right now."
    Ritchie slid behind the wheel of the State Highway Department truck and took of f a fter him.
    Majestyk parked across the highway from the blue school bus and the stake truc k a nd the old junk cars the migrants would return to later in the day. In th e s tillness he could hear the jukebox out on the street. Tammy Wynette, with a t wangy Nashville backup, telling about some boy she loved who was in love wit h s omebody else.
    Majestyk followed the sound of the music to the cafe-bar and had the screen doo r o pen when the State Highway Department truck slowed down at the Junctio n i ntersection and came coasting by. He gave the truck a little wave before h e w ent inside.
    A waitress was serving Julio Tamaz and another Chicano labor contractor thei r b reakfast. They were sitting at a table, the only customers in the place.
    Another woman, wearing a stained white apron, was sweeping the floor, movin g c hairs around, banging them against the formica tables. The two men didn't loo k u p as Majestyk approached them. They were busy with the salt and pepper an d p ouring sugar and cream. Julio was dousing his fried eggs dark brown with Lea & Perrins.
    "Julio?"
    He looked up then, with a surprised expression he had prepared as Majesty k w alked over.
    "Hey, Vincent. They let you out, huh? Good."
    Majestyk pulled a chair out but didn't sit down. He stood with his hand on it , as though he had changed his mind.
    "How come I can't hire a crew?"
    "Man, you been away, in jail."
    "Larry Mendoza hasn't. Last two mornings you turned him down. How come?"
    "It's the time of the year. I got too much business." He poked at the eggs wit h h is fork, yellow appearing, mixing with the brown. "Other people need crews too.
    They ask me first."
    "All right," Majestyk said, "I'm asking you right now for thirty people tomorro w m orning. Buck forty."
    Julio kept busy with his eggs and didn't look up. "I got crews signed more tha n a week. Vincent, you too late, that's all."
    Majestyk watched him begin to eat his eggs before turning his attention to th e o ther man at the table. He was already finishing, wiping the yolk from his plat e w ith a piece of toast.
    "How about you?" Majestyk said. "You get me a crew?"
    "Me?" With the same helpless tone as Julio's. "Maybe in ten days," the labo r c ontractor said. "I can't promise you nothing right now."
    "In ten days my crop will be ruined."
    "Like Julio says, other people ask first. We can't help that."
    "What is this, stick-up time? You want more money? What?"
    "It's not money, Vincent." Julio's tone was sad as well as helpless. "How can w e g et you people if we don't have any?"
    Majestyk pulled the chair out a little farther. This time he sat down and leane d o ver the edge of the table on his arms.
    He said quietly, "Julio, what's going on?"
    "I tole you. I got too much work."
    "You'd drive to Mexico if you