Festival of Deaths(79)
“This afternoon,” Itzaak repeated, sitting down again. “Is it this afternoon, that you are supposed to see this person?”
“Yes, Itzaak. It’s this afternoon. I’m glad it could be arranged so quickly. It’s an emergency. And it’s not like we’re in New York, where I’d know a dozen places to go.”
“It still worries me, this meeting of yours,” Itzaak said. “I wish you would at least tell me the name of the person you will see.”
“The person asked me not to,” Carmencita said, careful to keep the pronoun out of it, careful to keep sex vague. “And it’s just as well, Itzaak, it really is. For your protection.”
“I do not need protection. I am an old man. And I have been shot at.”
“You are not an old man. At least I don’t have to worry about the quality of what I’ll be getting. It’s the same person who got Maria her green card. I saw Maria’s green card. Hers was very good.”
“Yours is very good,” Itzaak said, “but it’s like all of them. It will not survive a check.”
“Nobody’s going to check it.”
“That policeman in New York checked mine,” Itzaak said. “It was a good thing I was legal. That is the other thing that worries me about all this. If you get caught, they will not only investigate your cousin Alejandro. They will investigate you.”
“I won’t get caught.”
“It is a crazy situation all around,” Itzaak insisted. “You should not have to have a forged green card and a dead person’s social security number. The United States should be proud to have you.”
“What about my cousin Alejandro?”
“I have not met your cousin Alejandro. I have only met you.”
There were two unopened bags of potato chips at Itzaak’s elbow. Each one was stamped with the U inside a circle that was a symbol of the union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America, certifying them kosher. Carmencita took one and opened it.
“I’m starving to death,” she said. “I haven’t eaten since before we got here this morning. I’m sorry this has caused you so much trouble, Itzaak. What with the money—”
“I’m not worried about the money.”
“But it really is an emergency. Alejandro has to report for work in just four days. It’s not much of a job. He’ll only be a janitor in Queens somewhere. But it is a start and if he doesn’t have his papers when he shows up for his first day, they’ll throw him out. The government is getting so picky about these things.”
“I don’t care about the government. I’m worried about what I told you I was worried about. And I’m worried about your going to meet this person alone, when there have been two deaths and we don’t know who has been committing the murders.”
Carmencita shifted uneasily in her seat. “It’s broad daylight.”
“Max was killed in broad daylight.”
“There will be lots of people around, lots of people in shouting distance. There will. And it won’t take very long to get the business over and done with.”
“So,” Itzaak said. “You are worried about this person. You are not sure this person is safe.”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“This is why you look so sick to your stomach,” Itzaak said. “It is because you are so sure.”
“I just don’t like to think about the things that have been going on around here,” Carmencita said. “Around the show, I mean. In New York and here. I get so confused. And I hate to think about them.”
“So do I.”
“But I am sure about this person, Itzaak, I really am. I’m certainly not worried that this person is going to kill me. It would be bad for business, wouldn’t it? Killing off your customers.”
“And you won’t tell me who it is?”
“No, Itzaak, I won’t.”
“Or where you will be meeting?”
“Of course not. You’d come.”
“Or when?”
“It’s much better the way it is now,” Carmencita said. “Really, Itzaak, it really is. When is sometime this afternoon, and that’s all you have to know. When I’m finished with it, I’ll come and get you and we can have a drink at the Israeli nightclub you told me about.”
“Then it will be late this afternoon,” Itzaak said, and then he sighed, and put his hands up to his face, and rubbed his eyes. He looked suddenly very old, much older than he really was, and Carmencita’s heart went out to him. She put her hand on the thick hairy pad of his wrist.