Part 15
Betty came into the kitchen from the yard and caught the old boy messing around the sink. "What are you doing with my dishes? Get away from there." she slapped him on the behind.
Bill had a tub of suds in one side of the sink. He withdrew his hands, dripping with foam, and held them like a surgeon receiving rubber gloves. "Your dishes? Too late now. I’ll teach you to leave me alone with them."
(His hands are messy. He’s at my mercy.) She threw her arms around him and pinned his arms tightly. She spread her fingers over his chest, "Now I got you where I want you. You are helpless."
"Reach me that towel." he requested.
"Not on your life, scullery man."
"You are in big trouble when my hands quit dripping."
"Threats, empty threats. Anyway until then, I will have my way with you. Yah, haw, haw !"
"Not exactly." With ease, he turned to face her and wiped his hands on her clothing. "How about a cup of coffee."
They sat over coffee, and Bill suggested they give their guns a workout that afternoon. "It’s been a while and if we get in a shoot-out, like Tamaulipas, we couldn’t hit anything."
. . .
(Tamaulipas) Inspector Ruiz reached the Americans at the Olmec, ltd. office. The criminal’s boat, which had long been at anchor, was on the move north. The couple was invited aboard the Tampico police cruiser if they could reach the docks in time. Cil Miranda ran the wheels off the Olmec Especial, a beat-up Chevrolet sedan that Jorge had selected but couldn’t use because he didn’t know how to drive.
The ship’s captain directed their course along the coast with no intention of interception yet. They would wait until all people and contraband were on board. A Mexican Navy destroyer was on its way from the north.
Bill excitedly listened to radio conversations. "Yes indeed, the gangsters have left Victoria. They appear to be heading for a dock in Pesca, Tamaulipas." He repeated what the police had already planned, "Cops will be watching the docks to apprehend anybody that doesn’t go aboard."
Betty stood at the bow, hands resting on the railing. She tilted her face back, hair blowing behind, to feel the salt breeze on her neck. Bill brought tortillas, wrapped around something that looked like dead mice. Betty peeked into the tamales, "At least they don’t have fur."
"It’s okay, it’s cooked." He relayed the latest news, "The crooks had a flat tire half way to Pesca." hee hee "And the Navy has their boat on radar."
Several people and some cargo transferred on board the smuggler’s ship. The report included the information that a woman was among them, probably the wanted archcriminal Betty Franklin. The police would wait, before approaching, until they were too far at sea to swim ashore.
They closed in, and the evil boat fled when the good guys came into sight. The police craft was a little faster and closed the gap. Ruiz was angry with himself for not providing long-distance weapons. He could be taking pot shots out of range of the 9mm armament the other party likely had available. Betty heard that. She dumped her 38-special ammo and reloaded with heavy 357 magnums.
From 300 meters, the bad guys began to shoot but there was no sign of hits. "We’re too far ain’t we? Even for magnums." She was holding the revolver steady across the railing, but the boat’s motion carried it up and down.
"Yeah, save your ammo." Bill wasn’t even aiming yet.
"There is no problem with side to side motion. I’ll try to let them off as the sights cross the boat in elevation. Is it okay to shoot, Inspector? I’ll just be shooting at the whole boat, nothing specific."
"Be my guest, Señora." Ruiz knelt beside her and steadied a small, 9mm carbine.
BLAM Betty squeezed one off. Ruiz flinched away from the muzzle blast and looked in amazement. He stuck a handkerchief in the ear nearest to her and resumed his stance. She apologized to him, "Tres-cinco-siete magna. Louder than heck ain’t they?" She reestablished a sight picture. BLAM
Ruiz took a shot and raised the muzzle in a gesture of futility. BLAM He watched as the Gringa’s measured discharges took their toll on the boat ahead. "How many rounds do you have, Missus Franklin?"
"A purse full — a box each of special and magnum. This is kind of fun isn’t it?"
The inspector had seen splintered wood and shattered glass coincident with her fire. He yelled at the boat captain to adjust the distance, "Hold at 200 meters. There is little risk to us while the Señora destroys their superstructure."
While this was going on, Bill amused himself, timing double-taps as the sight picture followed the ship’s motion. He didn’t hit anything. Betty straightened to eject cartridge cases. "You want to save these?"
Bill answered, "Nope, that’s for sport shooting. Just load as fast as you can now. Load six instead of five."
"This is the best sport shooting I ever had." she plopped the cylinder full and bent nearly double at the waist to steady herself on the railing. BLAM Bill considered that this target was larger than the giant box she used at home. BLAM A radio antenna toppled and fell to the deck of the ship in front. He decided neither to joke with her nor to mention how her bulk lowered attractively against her blouse when she bent over.
BLAM Ruiz lit a cigarette and relaxed. He and Bill called her strikes for her.
BLAM A man, who had been shooting at them, lying prone on the deck, scrambled into the cabin house. BLAM "I saw wood fly from the cabin." BLAM "Those are penetrating the cabin bulkhead." Betty arose to reload again.
A man came onto the deck, waving a white garment. They were surrendering. The boat slowed to a stop and police boarded her. Among the passengers was a middle-aged Caucasian woman who didn’t fit Betty’s description at all. Betty asked her to, "Assume the position." The woman pressed her palms against a bulkhead and Betty patted around her. "Where’s your ID?"
When the papers had been found and all identities straightened out, Betty confronted the pretender again. She poked her in the tummy with a gun barrel and grinned up at the taller woman, "You can always claim you were busted by the real Señora Bety y Gringo Bil. That sounds more dramatic than being took down by a hillbilly grandma."
Inspector Ruiz seemed amused and asked, "What is a hillbilly? Is grandma the same as grandmother?"
Betty explained, "People from the hills — dirt farmers, poor, and looked down on by city people. Grandma is an endearing, familiar form that is disrespectful when used by someone you don’t know, just like in Spanish."
Ruiz explained the English-language exchange to his Spanish-speaking men so they could enjoy it.