He laughed. “Scene of the crime, babe, scene of the crime.”
He gestured with the handcuffs. She was supposed to take them.
“I figure Kath’s gonna be the one wants to give me the most trouble and I only got one pair. So do the honors for me like a good girl.”
She took them. The girl Kath held out her hands. The girl managed to look both furious and disgusted with him. She had to be scared, there was no way she couldn’t be scared but she wasn’t showing him that. She thought, good for her.
Ray shook his head.
“Unh-unh. No way. What the fuck’s wrong with you, Kath? You ever see a cop cuff somebody that way in the movies? Huh? You got shit for brains? You cuff the hands behind the back, not in front. Jesus! You see somebody do that in the movies, you know you got one fucked-up movie. You just wasted your dollar-fifty. You know the guy’s gonna bust heads, cuffs or no cuffs. Man, it’s bullshit.”
Kath turned and stared him straight in the eye and then folded her hands together behind her back. He swatted at something in front of his face and looked at Sally.
“Flies, man,” he said. “Whole fucking town’s in-fested with flies. They come off the lake this time of year, buzz around your apartment.”
Sally stepped over.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Not your fault,” Kath said. “It’s okay.”
She said it as though she meant it too. Sally suddenly liked this girl. Liked her quite a lot. And hated what she was doing.
Snapping the handcuff home around her delicate wrist.
“Katherine, is it?”
She nodded.
“I’m Sally.”
And saying that and snapping the second cuff shut was like throwing a bolt on some prison cell and she felt the sob catch in her throat and she was silently crying again, no stopping it and Kath turned and looked at her and she raised her own eyes and looked back and saw an unexpected gentleness there, knew that the forgiveness was real. The girl smiled sadly.
“If I could give you a hug, hey, I would,” she said. “It’s okay. You understand?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good.”
“All right.”
But it wasn’t all right. It was awful.
She glanced at Ray, and Ray was smirking at them.
You bastard, she thought. You little weasel. If Ed were here . . .
Ray waved his pistol.
“Okay, ladies, on up the hill. Mush.”
She turned and saw Jennifer hesitate, afraid to go and afraid to stay, saw that Jennifer was terrified of him, her face pale as death and the eyes deeply hooded and shadowed, dark circles like bruises beneath them and red-rimmed and she wasn’t surprised when Katherine stepped out ahead of her to lead the way instead. Something in the line of her back maybe, in her steady gait seemed to give Jennifer the nerve to follow and then catch up with her so that they were walking side by side with her trailing a few steps behind and she could hear Ray, rifle over his shoulder and gun in hand, shuffling in the dirt in back and a little to the left of them where he could keep an eye on each of them.
It was only as they reached the crest of the hill that she heard him pause.
“What the fuck?” he said.
Through the thick copse of trees they could see the house ahead.
A porch light burning.
Fuck this, he thought. This was his place his fucking place and he wasn’t turning around, he wasn’t piling them all in the car again and driving someplace else.
It was supposed to be empty. He was damn well staying.
He marched them past the Dodge wagon in the driveway and up the stairs to the porch and reached past and through them and these people, these fucking stupid people up here they never lock their doors, they all think they’re living in the fucking ’50s for chrissake, they deserve whatever the fuck they get and he pushed open the door and pushed Kath and Jennifer in, Jennifer skidding to her hands and knees and then pushed Sally. Through to a brightly lit dark-paneled hallway leading to a brightly lit living room, bare bulbs blazing on lamps without lampshades, cardboard boxes all over the place, chairs piled on top of one another and tied with twine, photos and paintings bundled together, sofa and armchairs covered with sheets tied round with more twine.
And in the middle of the room two startled people in the act of wrapping some stupid blue-and-white seascape in a sheet of brown paper, the woman holding the painting and the guy on his knees taping the wrap.
Ray showed them the gun. Waved it like a football pennant and slammed the door behind him.
“Who the fuck are you!” he said.
The guy started to stammer and moved to rise.
“Don’t. Stay right where you are, man. Don’t you fucking move! You either, lady. Now who the hell are you?”
The guy had his hands up. I surrender. The guy was stammering again.
“Take a deep breath, asshole. You three, over against the wall.”
They did as he said. Stood where it looked like a great big circular mirror had been until just recently. A pure white moon on the faded wall.
His ducks all in a row.
“We . . . my father’s sold the house. There are movers coming tomorrow and we’re . . .”
“Packing things up,” the woman said. The woman jittered. Like she had to go to the bathroom. He hated the bitch immediately. Let her go in her fucking pants if she had to.
“That’s right. Packing things up.”
“Uh-huh.”
He looked them over. The guy had short brown hair, blue jeans with a crease in them for godsakes, a checked short-sleeve shirt. Twenty-five-ish, thin. He was not going to be a problem. The woman wore gold wire-rim glasses, long hair in a kind of asshole Jackie flip, no makeup, pretty if you liked the type, about the same age as Mr. Cleanjeans. Her sleeveless pale blue blouse wasn’t tucked into her skirt, it just hung there. Not quite covering up the fact that she was sporting a tummy on her. The bitch could definitely use some exercise.
“What’s your names?”
“Ken. Ken Wellman. This is my wife . . .”
“Don’t tell me. Barbie.”
“Her name’s Elizabeth. Liz.”
He couldn’t believe it. His joke was totally lost on the guy. What a putz.
“You got movers coming in tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Eight o’clock. Listen, I don’t know what you want here, but please, for god’s sake . . .”
He was looking at Katherine’s handcuffs like he’d seen them for the first time and thought that maybe the cuffs were going to jump off her wrists and bite him.
“Hey, don’t worry, Kenny. Be cool, my man. You just do as you’re told and you’ll be okay. You and Lizzy here. My business is with the girls, you know? Ain’t they pretty?”
“I . . .”
“C’mon. You don’t think they’re pretty?” He laughed. “Well, shit, I have to admit they’ve looked better. They’ve been through some heavy stuff tonight. But basically, y’know? Doncha think? These are all my girls.”
The man shifted, uncomfortable on his knees. Uncomfortable as hell with all of it and scared.
Good.
“I . . . yes. They are.”
The guy was trying to placate him.
“You’re goddamn right they are!”
He looked at the wife. The wife was standing still now. Rigid. With her shoulders hunched and her hands clasped in front of her down in front of her snatch like she was secretly praying and looking at the hands and what was behind the hands it suddenly hit him.
“Hey, Kenny! Your old lady! She’s pregnant, man. Am I correct?”
He hesitated, glanced over his shoulder at his wife and nodded.
“That’s cool, man! Hey, good for you, Ken. Good for you. You know why guys like pregnant women or women with little kids? I thought about it. It’s easy, man. It’s because a guy looks at a pregnant woman or a woman with a little ki
d, he knows that at least somebody’s fuckin’ ’em, that they can be fucked, know what I mean? So how far along’re you, Lizzie?”
“I’m . . . three . . . three and a half months. A little over that.”
He grinned. “Shit, that’s great. And I bet you folks want a boy, right?”
She tried to smile. It didn’t come off.
“We don’t care. I mean, either way. We’re happy either way.”
“Sure you are. You’re happy either way. Listen, I want you to help me out here. You got all this twine here and that’s just what I need. See, I want you to give me a hand with the girls. I got some serious talking to do to them and I don’t want ’em runnin’ away on me, I want ’em to pay attention, see what I mean? Hey, all this twine, all this tape you got? Shit, it’s lucky for me I ran into you. I mean it. Will you give me a hand, Ken? Lizzie?”
He watched the man look over to the girls standing against the wall. Jennifer had begun quietly sobbing. Ray hadn’t noticed. He looked back to the guy. The guy looked paler, less healthy-looking than when they’d first come in. He guessed it was understandable. He just hoped the man wasn’t gonna upchuck on him too. He’d shoot the fucker dead on the spot. He’d seen enough puke for one night.
“Whaddya say, Kenny?”
The man looked back to his wife for an answer but Lezzie-Lizzie with the fucked-up Jackie-do just spread her hands and shook her head like she didn’t know what his answer should be and now he could see that she was crying too.
What was it with gash anyway? All these fucking tears.
“Did you know that Sharon Tate was pregnant, Kenny? You know, Sharon Tate? The movie actress just got herself killed? Amazing, terrific piece of ass. Kath here kinda reminds me of her except Sharon has red hair and Kath’s younger of course and her tits are a little smaller. I think she was farther along than Lizzie though. I don’t remember. Hey, whatever. Who cares? She’s dead, right?”
The guy just looked at him wide-eyed and then stared down at his hands.
“I’m waiting, Kenny.”
“Mr. Wellman?” It was Katherine. “I don’t know what the others think. I can’t speak for them. But I think that for now you had better just go along and do what Ray asks you to do. I think that’s probably your best bet for now.”
He didn’t like all those for nows but what the fuck. Kath was making sense, basically. Whatta girl. He guessed Ken thought so too.
“All right.”
“Lizzie?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said. “All right.”
“Good. So let’s get to it. You guys don’t know about Sharon Tate? That’s fucking amazing. Where you been? You guys get to work and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Chapter Forty-three
Anderson
Ed lied. He did lay some of the blame on Charlie. Himself too for not seeing something like this coming. When you decided to pressure a man you had to watch him like a hawk and neither of them had done that. Granted he hadn’t done much pushing of his own except to encourage Charlie to bust Pye’s party. His own sin was mostly one of omission—he’d not discouraged him. But you couldn’t put responsibility in neat little packets, this much for Charlie, this much for him. Charlie at least had the excuse of having a job to do. He didn’t.
But he blamed this kid here across the desk from them a whole lot more than either one of them.
Tim Bess could have turned Ray in right after Steiner/Hanlon. Same with Jennifer Fitch. Instead they lied for him. Covered up. Fitch was paying for that now but what was this kid going to pay? He’d been a minor at the time.
Nothing. A goddamn slap on the wrist.
He did look scared as hell though. Scared was good he guessed. Scared was something. Kept moving around his half-empty can of warm Pepsi in his hands and staring at it frowning as though he’d find some sort of answer there.
“Man, I still can’t believe it. I still can’t believe he did this.”
“Believe it, Timmy.”
“I mean, the other two maybe. I can see that, from Ray’s point of view. You could maybe expect it. But Jennifer? He’s been with Jennifer forever.”
Schilling and Ed exchanged glances. Bland glances. Glances that said it would be nice to pummel this kid.
“Think, Tim,” Schilling was saying. “Anybody at all.”
“That’s hard, man. There’s his drummer Roger. They’re pretty tight. But see, Roger’s deep into drugs. I mean, I can’t see him risking having Ray there and guns there and three kidnapped chicks. I can’t see him doing it. The only other guy I can think of is Sammy Nardone, he’s the one who sends us all the hash and stuff. Supposed to be some tough street guy, that’s what Ray says. From Newark and all. I dunno. I never met him.”
“You know their addresses?”
“Street addresses? Sammy’s in Irvington. I know where Roger Uves, I mean I could take you there. But not the exact address. I got them at home, though.”
The kid brightening, thinking he was maybe going home to have a look through his address book. Ed knew he wasn’t. Schilling pushed the phone across the table along with a yellow pad and pencil.
“Okay. Call your parents. Tell them to look up the addresses and phone numbers and you write ’em down for us. Lieutenant Anderson and I will be outside. We’ll be right back.”
Jackowitz had sent the Bess family home half an hour ago. Bill and June Richmond too, thank god. He didn’t look forward to seeing Bill and June again soon no matter how this all turned out. Both families had State Police cars parked outside their houses. Just in case Ray wasn’t finished yet.
“You want anything?”
“I could use some smokes, yeah.”
“Okay, sure.”
They walked outside and closed the door. Ed smiled and shook his head.
“Lieutenant Anderson?”
“I know, I know. Force of habit.”
Schilling ht a cigarette. Ed noticed he hadn’t offered one to Bess. But then he knew Schilling felt the same about Bess as he did.
“So let’s look at this. We’ve got every available car on the street. We’ve got State Police patrolling the highways and the lake, the campgrounds around Turner’s Pool, we’ll have dogs for the woods in about half an hour. And now we’ve got two names.”
“I don’t think much of the names, tell you the truth. Bess is right. Who’s gonna let this kid in the house with three scared girls held at gunpoint? You’d have to be nuts. Unless this Nardone character’s some real hardcase. Maybe then.”
“If he’s still in the area and if he’s still cruising around in the Chevy we’ll get him.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Question is when.”
The door opened. Bess was leaning out at them as though afraid to step over the threshold. But the look on his face was excited.
“I think I know,” he said. “I think I know where he might go. I think I know where he’d take them!”
Chapter Forty-four
Jennifer/Katherine
“So why you doin’ all this work anyway? Why not just let the movers pack the stuff?”
Jennifer was sitting in a spindle-back chair facing the front door. Her right wrist was tied to the armrest and the man was working on the left. Triple strands of twine wound around the back of the chair and just below her breasts. Katherine sat to her right tied to the chair’s twin. The only difference was that Ray had told the woman to loop the twine around the chain connecting the handcuffs and tie them behind her to the middle spindles of the chair so that Katherine sat slightly forward on the seat.
The twine was itchy but the man hadn’t made it too tight.
“We’re supposed to be taking some of it for our apartment. Those boxes over there and . . . these chairs.” He nodded toward the ones they were sitting in and two others stacked beside her. “And some paintings.”
“New apartment?”
He nodded again. You could see the man was very uncomfortable having to talk to him.
“Where?”
“South Orange.”
“Classy, Kenny. Very classy. So let me guess, you guys are newlyweds or something, right?”
“Six months in September.”
“And what do you do for a living, Kenny? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
He kept waving the gun around gesturing and every time he waved it toward the man he flinched.
“We’re . . . teachers. I teach math and science. Elizabeth’s home ec.”
“High school?”
“Yes.”
“Damn. I never finished high school. You think I should’ve?”
The man didn’t seem to know what to say to that. So he said nothing. She wished that Ray would stop pacing. She wished he’d stop waving the gun. The man finished the knot on her left wrist and stood. Ray upended a third chair.
“Her next.”
He waved the silver pistol toward the man’s wife.
“What?”
“Lizzy. Elizabeth. Her next. C’mon, Ken. Look how jittery she is, your wife. She looks like she could bolt and run on me any minute.”
“I won’t. I won’t run! I promise!”
“You say that now, Lizzy and I believe you because I’m standing here. But if I turn my back for a minute, who knows? Kenny, you know you can’t trust a woman especially a nervous woman and especially a nervous pregnant woman, I mean they’re supposed to be unpredicable, anyway that’s what I hear, wanting pickles and ice cream in the middle of the night and everything. So just have a seat and let Kenny tie you down, Lizzy, not too tight, don’t worry. And that way I know you won’t run. I mean, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything.”
The woman looked at Sally. “Why not her? Why me?”
Ray turned and looked at Sally too. Looked her up and down.
Jennifer hoped to god he never looked at her that way.