What caught Bud Schwartz's eye was the Cordovan briefcase that the smaller man was carrying. The other one was no prize, dull-eyed and cold, but at least he was of normal dimensions. Bud Schwartz could spot a doper two miles away this guy was buzzing like a yellow jacket. Built like a grizzly but that wasn't the worst of it the worst was the eyes. The tall one, God Almighty, he was trouble. A monkey that could kill something as big as a horse Bud Schwartz was tuned out entirely he was sizing up the two new men. He was talking about a TV program that showed a male baboon killing a zebra, that's how strong they were. A burglar with a gun Pedro Luz was consumed with fury.ĭanny Pogue joined him on the concrete bench.So how much is he gonna bring?ĭanny Pogue wasn't paying attention. Before he could get to it, something dug into his right ear.
In the same motion his right hand casually fished into the waistband of his trousers for the Colt. Pedro Luz checked over both shoulders to make sure there were no tourists around. This exercise was repeated every few seconds, all the way to the Baboon Tree. Every time one appeared on the mesh over his head, Pedro Luz would jump up and smash at it savagely with his knuckles. It was fortunate, then, that the monkeys were safely on the other side of the chicken wire. An act of irrational violence was needed to calm the mood. Pedro Luz didn't think it was the least bit funny he was sinking into one of his spells-every heartbeat sent cymbals crashing against his brainpan. Churrito lit up a Marlboro and handed it to a rhesus, who took a sniff and hurled it back at him.
Next came the insistent clamor of the creatures themselves, clinging to the chicken wire and extending miniature brown hands in hopes of food. The first thing they noticed about Monkey Mountain was the stink, which Churrito likened to that of a mass grave. Bud Schwartz stood up and approached the two strangers.Where's the old man? Now, said Pedro Luz,where's the damn files?
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