Ghost Traps

The Deaths of Strangers

The Deaths of Strangers Everything had been all right until Becker came down the thirty-eight stairs from his loft to find two men on the street in front of his door shouting at each other in Spanish and waving pistols. Wisely, he stepped back inside and watched the altercation somewhat sheltered, because the pistols started to pop only a moment later. The man that Becker could see through the mesh-protected window suddenly leaned far back and went down to his knees, as if praying or doing the Limbo Stick, put one hand over his eyes, and toppled. Becker ran up three or four stairs, then turned around and ran back down, banged out the front door, and stood directly over the stricken man, his sneakers almost touching the tan khaki raincoat of the victim. There was an awful stain on the backof the coat. The man had curly black hair and a pencil-thin mustache , and he turned his head just slightly, just enough to look at Becker out of the corner of his eyes with supreme disgust and resignation. He coughed and the terrible stain spread, then broke out from under the coat in a thin red line that began to fill a crack in the sidewalk. "Get away from there. You crazy?" It took Becker a moment to realize the words were meant for him, and to find their source. Rudy Stein, his landlord, called again from the street-level electrical supply store that, along with Becker's loft and an adjacent florist, made up Stein's Twenty-fifth Street enterprises. The Deaths of Strangers / / 7 "Get in here, Becker. Those crazy bastards will gun you down/7 Becker stumbled away from the bleeding man. "Come on, Paul, quick. Wecalled the cops already." Becker complied slowly, taking a good look up the street where the other duelist had once been, but who of course had vanished by now—unless it had been the man in front of the Chili-dog House, the man wearing a camePs-hair coat andgesticulating frantically as he ranted into the receiver, or the man in the striped shirt piling into the taxi, or the man loping past the marquee of the Teatro San Juan . . . "Becker-er!" Rudy shouted hysterically. "Right/7 Becker said. He stumbled into the electrical store, half catching the reflection of himself in the door glass. "That guy isn7 t dead.77 "They7 re sending an ambulance,77 Rudy said. "They asked me if an ambulance was needed and I said yes. You can7 t help him by staring.77 "I know CPR,77 Becker said. "I took a course last year at the Y.7/ "Good for you.77 Rudy pulled Becker out of the entranceway so he could shut the door. "Heart attack is not his problem.77 "If he stops breathing, I could help.77 "Yeah, sure, Paul.77 They waited, standing close enough together in the narrow doorway to hear each other breathing, and watched the downed man twitch occasionally, or try to raise his head.Two or three times people charged into the store asking to use the telephone, but Rudy told them, "We already called.77 Now they could hear the sirens and Beckersighed with relief and confusion. He felt a little drunk. "How much did you see?77 Rudy asked him. "I didn't see the other guy. I just walked into this gunfight and I kind of panicked for a second.77 118 Ghost Traps "I wouldn't get involved then/' Rudy said. "It could mess up your life, you know, take up a lot of time. The other guy knows where you live, too, if he saw you come down the stairs/7 "I'd testify if I saw anything/7 Becker said. "I would/' "I'll bet it's over some woman/7 Rudy said. "It always is with these guys. The sexual revolution hasn't hit Puerto Rico yet." "You don't know," Becker said, "I don't know." "Yeah, but it's a good bet," Rudy said. "I'll bet you it's over some woman. Either that or cocaine." "I don't know," Becker said. A black and white police car wailed to the curb. The strobing lights sparkled in all the electrical store glass—the doors, the windows, the lamps—and polished fixtures of brass and chrome. In a few minutes an...