The Moneychangers

"No, I can’t." He peered at the license which appeared to be identical with an official one. "How did you get it" "Never mind."

"No," Miles said, "I’d really like to know. You know how interested I am in things like this."

LaRocca’s face clouded; for the first time his eyes revealed suspicion. "Why ye wanna know?"

"Just interest. The way I told you." Miles hoped a sudden nervousness didn’t show.

"Some questions ain’t smart. A guy asks too many, people start wondering. He might get hurt. He might get hurt bad."

Miles stayed silent, LaRocca watching. Then, it seemed, the moment of suspicion passed.

"It’ll be tomorrow night," Jules LaRocca informed him "You’ll be told wotta do, and when."

Next day, in the early evening, the instructions were delivered again by the perennial messenger, LaRocca, who handed Miles a set of car keys, a parking receipt from a city lot, and a one-way airline ticket. Miles was to pick up the car a maroon Chevrolet Impala drive it off the lot, then continue through the night to Louisville. On arrival he would go to Louisville airport and park the car there, leaving the airport parking ticket and keys under the front seat. Before leaving the car he was to wipe it carefully to remove his own fingerprints. Then he would take an early-morning flight back.

The worst minutes for Miles were early on, when he had located the car and was driving it from the city parking lot. He wondered tensely: Had the Chevrolet been under surveillance by police? Perhaps whoever parked the car was suspect, and was followed here. If so, now was the moment the law was most likely to close in. Miles knew there had to be a high risk; otherwise someone like himself would not have been sought as courier. And although he had no actual knowledge, he presumed the counterfeit money probably a lot of it was in the trunk.

But nothing happened though it was not until he had left the parking lot well behind and was near the city limits that he began to relax.

Once or twice on the highway, when he encountered state police patrol cars, his heart beat faster, but no one stopped him, and he reached Louisville shortly before dawn after an uneventful journey.

Only one thing happened which was not in the plan. Thirty miles or so from Louisville, Miles pulled off the highway and, in darkness, aided by a flashlight, opened the car’s trunk. It contained two heavy suitcases, both securely locked. Briefly he considered forcing one of the locks, then commonsense told him he would jeopardize himself by doing so. After that he closed the trunk, copied down the Impala’s license number, and continued on.

He found the Louisville airport without difficulty and after observing the rest of his instructions, boarded a flight back and was at the Double-Seven Health Club shortly before 10 A.M. No questions were asked about his absence.

Through the remainder of the day Miles was weary from the lack of sleep, though he managed to keep working. In the afternoon LaRocca arrived, beaming and smoking a fat cigar.

"Ya whacked off a clean job, Milesy. Nobody’s pissed off. Everybody pleased."

"That’s good," Miles said. "When do I get paid the two hundred dollars?"

"Y’ awready did. Ominsky took it Goes toward what ya owe him."

Miles sighed. He supposed he should have expected something of the kind, though it seemed ironic to have risked so much, solely for the loan shark’s benefit. He asked LaRocca, "How did Ominsky know7" "Ain’t much he don’t."

"A minute ago you said everybody was pleased. Who’s ‘everybody’? If I do a job like yesterday’s, I like to know who I’m working for."

"Like I told ye, there’s some things it ain’t smart to know or ask."

"I suppose so." Obviously he would learn nothing more and he forced a smile for LaRocca’s benefit, though today Miles’s cheerfulness was gone and depression had replaced it. The overnight trip had been a strain and, despite the horrendous chances he had taken, he realized how little he had really learned.

Some forty-eight hours later, still weary and disheartened, he communicated his misgivings to Juanita.

8

Miles Elastin and Juanita had met on two earlier occasions during the month he had been working at the DoubleSeven Health Club.

The first time a few days after Juanita’s evening ride with Nolan Wainwright and her agreement to act as intermediary had been an awkward, uncertain encounter for them both. Although a telephone had been instated promptly in Juanita’s apartment, as Wainwright promised, Miles had not known about it and came unannounced, at night, having traveled there by bus. After a cautious inspection through the partially opened apartment door, Juanita had taken off the safety chain and let him in.

"Hugo," Estela said. The small, dark child a miniature Juanita looked up from a coloring book, her large, liquid eyes regarding Miles. "You’re the thin man who came before. You’re fatter now."

"I know," Miles said. "I’ve been eating magic giant food." ‘- Estela giggled, but Juanita was frowning. He told her apologetically, "There was no way to warn you I was coming. But Mr. Wainwright said you’d be expecting me." "That hypocrite!" "You don’t like him?"

"I hate him."

"He isn’t my idea of Santa Claus," Miles said. "But I don’t hate him either. I guess he has a job to do." "Then let him do it. Not make use of others." "If you feel so strongly, why did you agree…?"

Juanita snapped, "Do you think I have not asked myself? Maldito sea el diva que lo conoc`. Making the promise that I did was an instant’s foolishness, to be regretted."

"There’s no need to regret it. Nothing says you can’t back down." Miles’s voice was gentle. "I’ll explain to Wainwright." He made a move toward the door.

Juanita flared at him, "And what of you? Where will you pass your messages?" She shook her head in exasperation. "Were you insane when you agreed to such stupidity?"

"No," Miles said. "I saw it as a chance; in a way the only chance, but there’s no reason it should involve you. When I suggested that it might, I hadn’t thought it through. I’m sorry." "Mommy," Estela said, "why are you so angry?"

Juanita reached down and hugged her daughter. "No te preocupes, mi cielo. I am angry at life, little one. At what people do to each other." She told Miles abruptly, "Sit, sit!" "You’re sure?"

"Sure of what? That you should sit down? No, I am not even sure of that. But do ill" He obeyed her.

"I like your temper, Juanita." Miles smiled, and for a moment, she thought, he looked the way he used to at the bank. He went on, "I like that and other things about you. If you want the truth, the reason I suggested this arrangement was that it would mean I’d have to see you."

"Well, now you have." Juanita shrugged. "And I suppose you will again. So make your secret agent’s report and I will give it to Mr. Spider Wainwright, spinning webs."

"My report is that there isn’t any report. At least, not yet." Miles told her about the Double-Seven Health Club, the way it looked and smelled, and saw her nose wrinkle in distaste. He described, too, his encounter with Jules LaRooca, then the meeting with the loan shark, Russian Ominsky, and Miles’s employment as the health dub bookkeeper. At that point, when Miles had worked at the Double-Seven only a few days, that was all he knew. "But I’m in," he assured Juanita "That was what Mr. Wainwright wanted."

"Sometimes it is easy to get in," she said. "As with a lobster trap, getting out is harder." lintels had listened gravely. Now she asked Miles, "Will you come again?"

"I don’t know." He glanced inquiringly at Juanita who surveyed them both, then sighed. "Yes, amorcito," she told Estela. "Yes, he will come."

Juanita went into the bedroom and returned with the two envelopes Nolan Wainwright had given her. She handed them to Miles. ‘These are for you."

The larger envelope contained money, the other the Keycharge credit card in the fictitious name of H. E. LINCOLP. She explained the purpose of the card a signal for help.

Miles pocketed the plastic credit card but replaced the money in the first envelope and gave it back to Juanita. "You take this. If I’m seen with it, someone might become suspicious. Use it for yourself and Estela. I owe it to you."

Juanita hesitated. Then, her voice softer than before, she said, "I will keep it for you."