Free Ed McBain by Learning to Kill: Stories Page B

money ... or would you rather be alive without it? Alive and ... with me?"
    "If you help me, we can have both," I said.
    She considered this for a moment and then asked, "What do you want me to do?"
    "You'll help?"
    "What do you want me to do?"
    "I want to set a trap for him."
    "What kind of a trap?"
    "Will you help?"
    She moved closer to me and buried her head against my shoulder.
    "I'll do whatever you say," she said.
    ***
    We crouched behind the rocks, our heads close together. The sun bore down ferociously, baking the earth, spreading heat over the surface of the land. The sky was streaked with spidery white clouds that trailed across a wide wash of blue. It was the Mexico of the picture books, bright and clear, warm, alive, and it should have been pulsating with the throb of laughter and music, wine and song, fiesta.
    Instead, a funeral was being planned.
    Carrera's.
    There was a sheer wall behind him, rising like a giant tombstone for some hundred feet, terminating there in a jumble of twisted branches and fallen rock. A few feet in front of the wall was the outcropping behind which Carrera squatted with his .45 and my ten G's.
    My watch read 12:40.
    Linda screamed.
    "Shut up!" I shouted.
    "José!" she bellowed, her head turned toward where Carrera lay crouched behind the rocks. There was no sound from across the clearing. I wondered if he was listening.
    "Hey!" I yelled. And then, "Let go the gun!"
    I pointed the .45 over my head and fired two quick shots. I screamed as loud as I could, and then I dropped my voice into a trailing moan, and at last fell silent.
    It was quiet for a long time.
    Linda and I crouched behind the rocks, waiting, looking at each other, the sweat pouring from our bodies. There was still no sound from the other side of the clearing.
    And then, softly, cautiously, in a whisper that reached across the pebble-strewn clearing and climbed the rock barrier, Carrera called, "Linda?"
    I put my finger to my lips.
    "Linda?" he called again.
    I nodded this time, and she answered, "It's all right, José. It's all right."
    Carrera was quiet again. I could picture him behind his rock barrier, his ears straining, his fat face flushed.
    "The American?" he called.
    "He is dead," Linda answered.
    "Tell him to come over," I prompted.
    She hesitated for a moment and then said, "Come here, José. Come."
    I waited, my chest heaving, the .45 heavy in my hand.
    "Throw out the American's gun," Carrera said. His voice was cold and calculating. He wasn't buying it. He suspected a trick, and he wanted to make sure I wasn't forcing his woman to play along with me.
    "Give me the gun," Linda whispered.
    "What for? What good would that...?"
    "I'll stand up. When he sees me with the gun, he will no longer suspect. Give it to me."
    "Throw out the gun, Linda," Carrera called again.
    "Quick," she said, "give me the gun."
    I hesitated for a moment, and then I passed the gun to her, holding it by the barrel, fitting the stock into her fingers.
    She took the gun gently, and then pointed it at my belly. A small smile tilted the corners of her mouth as she stood up. My eyes popped wide in astonishment.
    "It's all right now, José," she called. "I've got his gun."
    "
Bueno,
" Carrera said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I'd been suckered, taken like a schoolboy, hook, line, and sinker.
    "So that's the way it is," I said.
    "That's the way it is,
señor,
" she answered. The gun didn't waver. It kept pointing at my belt buckle.
    "And it's
señor
now," I added. "Last night, it was Jeff."
    "Last night was last night," she said. "Now is now."
    Across the clearing, I could hear Carrera's feet scraping against the rocks as he clambered to a standing position. Linda heard the sound, too. Her eyes flicked briefly to the right and then snapped back.
    "I'm surprised," I said. I kept my voice low, a bare whisper that only she could hear. From the comer of my eye, I watched Carrera's progress.
    "You should learn to expect