Night Work by David C. Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

food, scrambled eggs, a piece of papaya, a fried plantain.
    â€œI apologize for last night. I insulted you. You did me a service and I asked what you wanted in return. It comes, I suppose, of working in a town where nobody offers anything for free. I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine. You begin to think everyone acts that way. Sorry.”
    â€œForget it. And at the risk of disillusioning you, I need your help.”
    â€œCome on.” He looked a little angry.
    â€œThe world’s full of disappointments.”
    â€œYeah, yeah. What do you need?” He was not happy.
    â€œAre you really down here to do some fact-finding?”
    â€œThat’s what it says on my schedule and on my receipts.”
    â€œAre you busy today?”
    â€œMaybe a cigar factory in the afternoon. We’ve still got a couple of tobacco growers down near the Connecticut border. Some of them sell wrappers to the Cuban cigar makers. Why?”
    â€œDo you know La Cabaña?”
    â€œThe fortress across the harbor next to El Morro.”
    â€œIt’s a prison. I need to get in there.”
    â€œSure. Why?”
    â€œI have to get someone out.”
    That didn’t seem to disturb him, but it made him pause. “Who?”
    â€œA woman.”
    â€œUh-huh. What’s she in for?” The interest of a born conspirator began to show.
    â€œI don’t know. Politics. But whatever it is, they’re going to kill her.”
    â€œSo what’s happening here? Are you following your dick or your brain?” This from a man who had done both.
    â€œBoth.”
    â€œYou know her.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAhh, like that, huh?” A man who liked women and understood what that could do to you.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhy do you need me? You’re a cop. They’ll let you in, won’t they?”
    â€œIf I go in with you, they’ll be looking at you. No one will pay attention to me.”
    â€œOnce you’re in, what do you do?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œThis is a hell of a plan.”
    â€œI’m not strong on plans. I’m more likely to bang around and see what happens.”
    â€œUh-huh, just grab and hold on tight.” It seemed to intrigue him. Maybe being a senator wasn’t exciting enough.
    Cassidy said nothing. The idea sounded ridiculous to him. What did it sound like to the senator?
    â€œSo I go to the authorities and tell them about my abiding interest in prison administration, or history, or something. I form a group. We go in. You do what you do, and then we get caught. That’s not really going to be a help to my political career.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œLast night was last night. That’s over. I owe you, but this? Why should I do it?”
    â€œNo reason at all.”
    â€œI suppose it has to happen fast.”
    â€œShe’s on short time.”
    Cassidy lit a cigarette and smoked while the senator thought about it.
    â€œA goddamn stupid thing to be doing.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWe could try for this afternoon. I’ll get some people together. I’ll have to make some calls, find out who can give us permission.”
    â€œThank you, Senator.”
    He grinned. “If we get caught, my father’s going to kill me.”
    Cassidy went shopping on La Rampa. He bought a cheap briefcase and stored his purchases in it and went back to the hotel and lay on the bed and wondered if he would be alive at the end of the day. It was a thought that had come often in the war. If you examined it from all sides it would paralyze you. Better to stuff it back in the box and go on. What else was there to do?
    They left the cars in the shade of the high wall inside the gate and followed their guide, a slim, clerkish lieutenant with a wisp of a mustache and an impeccable khaki uniform, across the heat of the parade ground, the cut stones smooth and warm underfoot. The office of the Commandant was