“Whatta you expect?” Virgil said. “I’m a goddamned lawyer.”
28
We drove away from the airport in a direction opposite the one we needed to go. When we were a couple miles down the road, Virgil pulled over and got out of the car. Poot jumped out after him and peed on a pine tree.
I pulled my .38 out of the glove box and put it back where it belonged and got out of the car. I was steamed, even though the air was cool.
Virgil’s face was covered in sweat. He spread his feet wide apart and placed both hands high on the pine Poot had pissed on and did a couple of push ups against it. He took a deep breath, turned his back to the tree, and rested against it. He said, “How’d I do?”
“Good,” I said. “I was scared to death. I thought he might call our bluff.”
“Poot would have protected us.”
“Yeah, right,” I said. “You didn’t tell me he was wired.”
“I didn’t know how you’d do,” Virgil said. “I didn’t want you looking nervous, maybe giving us away. I wired him before we left, while you were filling out the papers I brought.”
A man in a brown four wheel drive Dodge pulled over behind the Cadillac. I reached under my shirt and touched the butt of the .38 as he opened the door of the truck and got out.
“It’s all right,” Virgil said. “That’s my partner. Tim Mayday.”
Tim was a dark wiry guy dressed in tweed pants and jacket. He even had on an Irish style tweed hat.
“Goddamn,” Tim said as he came up, bouncy as a kangaroo with a hot foot. “Man, I could hear that bastard’s asshole puckering from where I was. I bet he’s got some stains in his undies. How’s Poot, man? He all right? Say, Hank, I’m Tim Mayday. You guys did all right. Where’s Poot?”
“He’s off in the woods,” Virgil said. “Probably taking a dump. He’s got a little case of nerves.”
“Hey, for a minute there,” Tim said, “I thought he might pop you guys, you know. I was glad I was recording. Popped you, I’d have it on tape. I was scared as hell about Poot. I don’t know I’ll let him go with you anymore, Virg. Oh yeah, Hank, shake.”
Tim stuck his hand at me and I shook. It was a limp shake and he was letting me pump his arm like it was a rag. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Virgil. “Your wife, she says howdy. She’s at my place.”
“I know,” Virgil said.
“Hey, I just fucked her that one time,” Tim said. “She’s just staying with me. She’s doing some Arab guy runs a convenience store. Over where Fifth meets Main. I don’t let them do it at the house, though. They got to go to his place. Rent a motel. Whatever it is they do. I got some sense of honor.”
“You got the honor of a shitfly,” Virgil said.
Poot came out of the woods, went over to Tim with his tail wagging. Tim bent and gave the dog a pat. “Hey, doggie. Good doggie. Almost got your ass blown off, didn’t you, doggie?”
Virgil said, “Let’s make the next move.”
The next move was we went back to the cabin. The kids were up and playing, dressed in the clothes Virgil had brought. Arnold had changed too. He wore a green Hare a grewaiian shirt with blue pineapples and blue jeans. Beverly had on her offering, a simple blue blouse and blue jeans. The blue jeans fit her a little tight in the ass.
Introductions were made so everyone knew who Tim was. The kids went off to play with Poot out back. They loved his name and kept calling him that. Virg and I told Bev and Arnold how things had gone. Virgil thought for insurance’s sake we should move. Just in case Fat Boy and Snake figured some things out and came calling. He said he and Tim had made arrangements. They helped us pack the groceries and get out. We drove around to the other side of the lake in a kind of caravan, Tim and Poot leading the way in his truck, me following in my truck with Bev and the kids, Virg bringing up the rear, Arnold riding with him.
We came to a massive three story house with about six zillion rooms and a garage big enough for a family of four to live in. The top of the house was made up like an observatory and was mostly glass. Nearby was a satellite dish about the size of a flying saucer.
We got out of our vehicles and gathered out front of the place and took it all in. The kids went down to the dock with a warning from Bev to be careful. Poot followed after, bouncing like a ball.
“Short trip,” I said.
“Yeah,” Virgil said. “I found out you was on the lake yesterday, I already started thinking about this place.”
“Yours?” Bev asked.
“Naw,” Virgil said. “Not Tim’s either. We make good money, but we don’t make this kind of money. Not even together. God working full-time don’t make this kind of money.”
“Client of mine owns it,” Tim said. “Runs some drugs now and then. Guns. Whatever’s needed. Does it for one of the bean eatin’ nations. I’ve got him off the hook a few times when the local drug boys practically had his balls in their hands.”
“In other words,” Bev said, “he was guilty.”
“As hell,” Tim said. “Technicalities can do wonders though. I can find a technical fuckup in damn near anything. But my boy’s gone for a few months. Working a deal, I figure. He gives me a key when he leaves. I come out here now and then and noodle with the boats. He doesn’t care. He knows he’s going to have more trouble some time or another. He likes to keep me happy.”
I called the kids over and Poot came running after them. Tim cut off the house’s elaborate security system with a key that fit in a lock behind a movable brick outside the garage. We went into the garage through a side door, past a red Corvette and a Mercedes and on into the house. It was massive.
We looked around a bit, then brought the groceries in and put them away. Tim assigned the kids, Arnold, Bev and me bedrooms. The rooms were so far in the back of the house, I thought I ought to drop some bread crumbs so I could find my way back to the front door.
“Use what you want,” Tim said. “He doesn’t care. We finish, I’ll have everything fixed up like it was.”
· · ·
That night, about eleven-thirty, Virgil call, Virgiled Price at home. Price agreed to meet us. He said he had a plan. Virgil gave him directions to a meeting place. Arnold’s cabin. Virgil decided just me and him should go.
I kissed Bev and the kids goodbye and hugged Arnold. Poot wagged his tail and Tim got a beer out of the refrigerator and turned on the living room television. He was the sentimental sort.
Virgil and I took the big boat over to the other side of the lake, over to Arnold’s cabin. We docked, got off the boat and walked out back of the place and around. The air was cool and sharp and the wind was hooting in the bottle tree.
Price heard our boat motor and came around and met us at the side of the house. He was dressed in a different suit than before, but it was too dark for me to tell much about it.
“Que paso,” said Virgil.
“You didn’t say you’d be coming by boat,” Price said. “You’re on the other side of the lake, huh?”
“Our network is large and devious,” Virgil said.
“Nice boat,” Price said.
“Can’t see that much of it in the dark,” Virgil said.
“Any boat’s a nice boat when you don’t have one,” Price said.
“Man of your nature,” I said. “I figure you’ll have a boat in time.”
“Same way I figure it,” Price said. “All right, this Snake guy. I got him figured. He’s too strange to be anyone but Tommy Ray Mault, Fat Boy’s cousin.”
“That’s sweet,” Virgil said.
“The whole family’s full of sugar,” Price said. “They’re sweeter than me.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Virgil said. “I get sugar diabetes just looking at you.”
“Tommy Ra… Snake. He’s supposed to be dead. Records say he is, but…”
Price reached inside his coat and came out with a photograph and a penlight. He handed them both to me. I turned on the light and looked at the photo. It was Snake holding an a
rrest number card. He looked his same special self, except a little younger.
“That’s him,” I said.
“Yeah,” Price said, taking back the photo and the light. “Story goes they let him out of his last Huntsville stretch early on account of his stink. Nobody could stand him. Got some kind of disease makes his sweat smell like something dead. Gets worse as he gets older. He had him any dates, he must have had ’em in grade school.”
“How is it he was thought to be dead?” I asked.
“Third time he was supposed to go up, this time for raping some girl over in Busby, girl’s daddy came to the court house and decided to be the Lone Ranger. He knew they were moving Tommy, and he knew they’d be bringing him out of the courthouse in irons and under guard. He jumped out of hiding and tried to pop Snake with a .22 pistol. Missed the fucker near pointer near blank and put one in a deputy’s ear. Other deputy wiped his partner’s brains out of his eyes and shot a hole in Daddy’s chest, and while he was beading up for another round, Tommy Ray put the smoke on the deputy and got his gun. Shot him dead and put a couple in Daddy. Not that Daddy really needed them. The deputy’s shot had punched out some parts.
“Snake got away wearing leg irons, stole a cop car. They found the car later, abandoned. Month after that some guy was discovered in a stolen car alongside the road. He was burned to a cracker, but his cousin, Fat Boy, identified the body as that of Tommy Ray. Supposed to have been a suicide. Coated himself in gasoline, sat in the car, and put a match to himself.”
“What about dental records?” I said.
“What about them?” Price said. “Had a positive I.D. on him from the only relative ever had anything to do with Tommy Ray. Cousin ought to know him. Right? It was near Busby, Fat Boy’s territory. No one questioned him. They took him at his word.”
“Sounds to me,” Virgil said, “you know Fat Boy’s methods pretty well for someone yesterday didn’t know nothing.”
“Fat Boy could do what he wanted long as he didn’t track shit in my house,” Price said. “He’s got it on my rug now.”
“Who was the body they used for Snake?” I asked.
“Someone who hasn’t wrote home lately,” Price said. “Or they dug a fresh corpse out of the cemetery and burned it. No telling. That’s not our problem. That doctor you told me about. The plastic surgeon. We’re going to his place. A little late call.”
“All of us?” I asked.
“You said have a plan, so I got a plan,” Price said. “You gonna play or not?”
“We’ll play,” I said.
“You didn’t bring the dog, did you?”
“It’s his night off,” Virgil said.
“Good,” Price said. “I hate fucking dogs.”
· · ·
Price drove us there in his Plymouth. We arrived after midnight. We parked at the curb and went up the walk with Price in the lead. Price rang the doorbell. It took a while for the porch light to come on. There was a voice contraption in the door and a voice talked to us through that.
“Who is it?”
Price took out his identification and held it up so it could be seen through the spy glass in the door.
“Doctor Benjamin Parker?” Price asked.
“Yes,” said the voice.
“Open up,” Price said. “Police.”
While we waited under the glow of the porch light, I took a good look at Price’s suit to pass the time. It fit beautifully. It was dark blue. The shirt was grey. The tie was dark blue with thin gray lines. It had a ks. It hanot tied in it about the size of a plum. He wore expensive gray socks. The shoes had a bluish cast to them. A moth, perhaps attracted to the mousse on his hair, circled his head a few times then dove for the porch light and fluttered.
Doc opened the door. He was dressed in a black silk robe and black house shoes so stylish he could have worn a tie with them and gone to church.
Price pushed past Doc and went inside. We followed. Doc closed the door, said, “What’s this about? Have I done something?”
A young woman with sleepy eyes, wearing a shorty, white, silk robe well filled by her breasts, stepped out of an open doorway. She also wore pink bunny slippers, with ears. She looked as timid as a deer. She called the Doc’s name. He said, “Go back to bed, sugar. It’s business.”
“Emergency nose job,” Price said.
“Oh,” said the young woman, and went away.
“Time to change her diaper?” Price said.
“What?” Doc said.
“How old’s she?” Price asked.
“Nineteen,” Doc said. “She looks young for her age.”
“Yeah, like maybe she just got off the baby formula,” Price said. “’Course, those tits are plenty mature.”
“Look, Chief,” Doc said. “That’s right, isn’t it? Chief? The girl’s nineteen. Check it out. Someone’s given you a bum steer, if they’re telling you she’s underage.”
“That isn’t it,” Price said. “Let’s go somewhere and sit down.”
Doc looked at me and Virgil, trying to determine our part in all this. We didn’t offer to fill him in. He said, “This way.”
The room he took us into was the room Bill had described. The one with the long table and the big windows. There was a huge piece of plywood covering one of the windows. Price noticed that, looked at me and Virgil. I presumed Virgil had told Price everything he had gotten from me, about how Bill had escaped and all, and Price was puzzling it together.
Price nodded at the plyboard, said, “Redecorating?”
“Golf ball.” Doc said. “I was putting a few along the room here, and one got out of hand. Bounced and went through.”
“Big golf ball,” Virgil said.
“Are you officers, too?” Doc asked me and Virgil.
“They’re not,” Price said. “They don’t have to be. They’re with me. Sit down over there and shut up, would you, Doc?”
“I don’t have to do any of this,” Doc said. “I got a lawyer.”
“Who doesn’t,” Virgil said.
“Just sit down before I rough you up,” Price said.
“I could have your job for that,” Dor that,oc said. “I got connections all over.”
Price slid across the room as if he were on a camera dolly. His fist shot into Doc’s stomach and Doc went to his knees. Price reached down and slapped Doc on the ear.
“Take a seat,” Price said. “We’ll discuss your connections later.”
Doc got up and sat on the couch, held a hand to his injured ear. Price said, “Little thing like your wife getting murdered hasn’t stopped your sex life, has it?”
“I haven’t made any secret of the fact I was cheating on my wife,” Doc said. “She wasn’t true to me either. We had a strained relationship.”
“Strain is off now, though, isn’t it?” Price said.
Doc’s answer arrived by banana boat. “I suppose you could look at it that way.”
“Can we look at it another way?” Price said. He pulled a chair from beneath the table and sat on it backwards, his arms resting on the backrest. “Can we look at the part about you having her killed? And please, don’t say, ‘what are you talking about?’ ”
“I have to say that,” Doc said. “I don’t know anything else to say.”
Price slipped out of the chair and took two fast steps to the couch, grabbed Doc by the front of the robe and jerked him up and kneed him in the nuts and sat him down on the couch. He slapped the Doc on the other ear. Doc grabbed his head with one hand and stuck the other between his legs. He fell sideways on the couch and made a noise.
“Don’t do that,” I said to Price, but I’m afraid I didn’t sound as if I really meant it. Price ignored me. This was his play: a deep well thought out plan. Beat the shit out of Doc.
Price got hold of Doc and pulled him to a sitting position on the couch. “Want to go for a broken nose?” Price said. “And don’t say ‘you can’t get away with this.’ I can get away with it. Want to test me?”
r /> “No,” Doc said.
“Good,” Price said. “Here’s the exclusive. I got a guy working for me you probably know as Fat Boy. Aha, saw your eyes light up on that one. Fat Boy he’s got a guy working for him he calls Snake. They worked for you one night. Night this man’s nephew showed up with some other fools to put a scare in you. You weren’t here. Fat Boy was.
“You hired him to kill your wife, and he did, and he pinned the murder on the nephew. I don’t know your wife. Just her picture in the paper. Maybe you had a good reason to get rid of her. Maybe she had pussy stank like a dead fish. Maybe she was a dyke or had a dick on her. I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s not her murder I’m worried about. It’s Fat Boy’s dealings concerns me. Him working for me, and him doing what he did for you. This comes out, it makes me look bad. See how frank I am, Doc? I want you to be frank with me, now. I want you to admit you hired Fat Boy to do your wife in. I want some particulars.”
“I haven’t got a clue,” Doc started, and Price slapped him again, this time on the jaw.
“Talk to me,” Price said.
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I went out into the hallway and closed the door.
The girl came out of the bedroom again. “Is everything okay?” she said.
“It’ll be all right,” I said. “They just argue like this sometimes. Go back to bed.”
She swallowed. “All right,” she said, and went back into the bedroom and closed the door. A moment later I heard the door lock.
The hall door behind me opened and Virgil came out. He said, “Come in here. Doc wants to chat.”
I went back inside. Price had helped himself to some brandy from the Doc’s liquor cabinet. He stood by the cabinet sipping the drink. He didn’t look as if he had exerted himself at all. His shirt wasn’t even wrinkled. Doc was on the couch. Blood was running out of his nose and the corners of his mouth and it had dripped onto his beautiful robe. No wearing it to church now. There was a lump above his right eye. He reached up with his right sleeve and wiped the blood away.
I felt very small and very ill.
Price held up the glass of brandy and said, “Anyone else want some? Doc? I bet you could use something.”