Hap and Leonard Ride Again

  “You look spry enough,” Marvin said.

  “You sweet liar.”

  “When was he last seen and where?”

  “The bank, twenty-five years ago,” said the younger Mrs. Craver, who was entering the room again, carrying a tray with a pitcher of ice tea on it and three glasses. Marvin had heard her banging around in the kitchen and had hoped some kind of drink would be the result.

  “This is my daughter-in-law, Frankie,” said Mrs. Craver. “She lives with me.”

  “I’m more like a daughter,” Frankie said.

  “True enough,” Mrs. Craver said.

  Frankie sat. She was a thick lady with thick ankles and a thick neck. Her face showed a former beauty hidden under some fat. “He came to see me at the bank, and that was the last time anyone saw him.”

  “Just a visit?”

  “Actually. . . ,” Frankie glanced at Mrs. Craver when she spoke.

  “It’s okay,” Mrs. Craver said. “He’s going to find him, he’s got to have the whole package.”

  “He was fresh out of prison and he came to see me about money.”

  “Your money or the bank’s?” Marvin asked.

  “My money that he wanted to make his money,” Frankie said. “I didn’t give it to him.”

  “Tom had his faults,” Mrs. Craver said. “And in fact, he was a shit and not worth the powder to blow him up. But he was my son, and in some place deep in the back of my old withered heart, I love him and want to know what happened to him. I presume an untimely end. But after twenty-five years, the police, and four private investigators who have found nothing, I thought I’d give it another try. I was told at the police department that you used to be a cop and that you were known to manage some tough jobs, and sometimes you were known to stretch things a little, but not so much that they snapped.”

  “Not that anyone knows about,” Marvin said.

  “I’m not sure you’re joking,” Mrs. Craver said.

  Marvin didn’t say anything to that.

  “No matter what the outcome,” Mrs. Craver said, “I’d like to know what happened to him.”

  “Tell me about his coming to see you,” Marvin said to Frankie.

  “I worked a desk in the bank,” Frankie said. “The Standard Bank. I was a loan officer. That’s when the bank was in the old section. Before the newer section was built.”

  Marvin considered that. The old bank had been scheduled to be torn down at one time, until the historical society made a big stink about it. There was history with the old bank. Once it had been robbed at the turn of the century. One of the first robberies by car, before all the famous guys like Bonnie and Clyde came along. Marvin didn’t really remember all that much about it.

  “He came to see me, wanting money,” Frankie said. “It was about closing time, and I remembered the whole thing embarrassed me. I didn’t give him any money. He left. That was the last time I ever saw him. That was the last time anyone in the bank ever saw him. No one else has ever claimed to have seen him since.”

  “The law, the private detectives,” Marvin asked. “Did they come up with anything?”

  Mrs. Craver tapped some thin folders that were lying on the coffee table between them. “These are the police reports, and the reports from the private investigators. Well, three of them. The fourth took our money and went to bars and never looked any farther than the bartender. We sued him. We won, but he didn’t have any money and he spent ours.”

  “All right,” Marvin said. “Any special interests or friends that Tom may have had? That kind of thing.”

  “He was short in the friend department,” Frankie said. “He was, of all things, a rodeo clown for awhile, then a circus clown. He actually ran off to the circus.”

  “When he was eighteen,” Mrs. Craver said. “He was our youngest. All the other kids, and there are three others, did quite well for themselves. But Tom, he was always a pain in the ass. He took gymnastics, and baseball, and was good at all of them.”

  “He was a contortionist in the circus,” Frankie said. “I figured when he went away that day, he just joined back up with the circus.”

  “I believe it was actually a carnival that he worked for,” Mrs. Craver said.

  “Whatever,” Frankie said. “He worked for them from time to time. He could dislocate his shoulders and put his foot behind his head. It wasn’t a skill that served him well outside of the carnival, and he didn’t work there often. He was always looking for the easy way out.”

  “You don’t sound like you miss him much,” Marvin said to Frankie.

  Frankie looked at Mrs. Craver.

  “It’s okay, dear,” Mrs. Craver said. “I understand that you two weren’t that close. Not in the end. It doesn’t matter.”

  Frankie reached out and touched Mrs. Craver’s arm. “You know I love you.”

  “Of course I do,” Mrs. Craver said. She looked at Marvin. “She takes very good care of me. Better than my own children. She moved in with me to take care of me.”

  “So you and Tom weren’t close,” Marvin said to Frankie, “because of Tom’s work habits, or lack thereof, and his time in prison.”

  “That would be a lot of it,” Frankie said. “That and the fact he chased every woman he saw. He was charming, but it was all BS. We were separated at the time of his disappearance. When he got out of prison, he wanted us to get back together. I had heard that before. And he’d mean it when he said it. For about a week, or until I gave him some money. My guess was in no time he’d be back in prison.”

  “What did he go to prison for?” Marvin asked.

  “Burglary,” Frankie said.

  “All right,” Marvin said. “I guess that does me for now. I might have some questions later.”

  “That’s fine,” Mrs. Craver said. “Shall we settle on a fee?”

  They talked money. It was good money they were talking, and Marvin felt it was one hell of a good deal they settled on. A good fee to look and report, a better fee if he found out where Tom was, or what had happened to him.

  When the deal was struck, Marvin picked up the files from the coffee table. “I’ll return these when I finish.”

  “That’s fine,” Mrs. Craver said. “Do you think you can find out what happened to Tom?”

  “It’s been quite a while.”

  “But it’s possible?” Mrs. Craver said.

  “Yes,” Marvin said. “But there are no guarantees.”

  “I understand,” Mrs. Craver said.

  “However,” Marvin said, “if it’s any consolation, if anyone can figure out what happened to him, or where he is, it’s me.”

  “That’s not a very modest view,” Mrs. Craver said, showing her false teeth.

  “No, it isn’t. But it’s not a brag either. Just fact.” Frankie walked Marvin out to his car. When he opened the door to get in, he paused and leaned on it.

  “I was trying to give her some hope in there,” Marvin said, “and I meant what I said about being good at what I do. But, it really is a long shot.”

  “I realize that,” Frankie said. “And frankly, as far as Tom goes, I don’t really give a damn. He can be dead. He can be alive, living in Argentina with Hitler, and I don’t care. But, for her there’s always going to be a bone-dead sadness about her until she knows what happened to him, good or bad. Therefore, it matters to me. For her sake.”

  “Is there anyone else that worked at the bank at that time that may remember Tom’s visit?”

  “You doubt me?”

  “Someone may have noticed something you didn’t.”

  “And they’d remember twenty-five years later?” Frankie said. “I think the other detectives went over that.”

  “A lot of detective work is looking at old information in a new way.”

  “Well, I think James Raymond saw him, but he’s no longer around. He was the bank manager at the time. It was a small bank then, they were about to build the new one. He knew Tom in passing. But, as I said, he’s dead, so that doesn?
??t matter. There was Tiffany Millar. She was a teller. In fact, there was the manager, me, Tiffany, and old Mrs. Thompson. She did the books. She’s long dead as well. That was the whole bank staff back then.”

  “All right,” Marvin said. “Thanks. And, good-bye.”

  That evening at the dinner table, Marvin said to his wife, Rachel, “It’s a pretty odd case. Guy’s been missing twenty-five years.”

  “You think he’s dead?”

  “I think it’s highly possible. Likely even. But it’s also possible he’s living somewhere under another name.”

  “He could be back in prison.”

  “I checked that. That would have been easy for the law or the previous investigators to figure out. Even if Tom had been using an assumed name, he got caught doing something he shouldn’t, the fingerprints would have ratted him out. No. He’s either dead or out there in hiding.”

  When they were through eating, Rachel said, “I’m going to go to bed.”

  “Pretty early,” Marvin said. “We could watch some TV.”

  “No. That’s all right.”

  “Rachel?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Trying what?” she said.

  “You know. To make up for things.”

  “Sure. I know.”

  “Can’t you forgive me?”

  “I forgive you, Marvin. I just can’t forget.”

  “Will you ever be able to forget?”

  “No,” she said. “Of course not. You don’t forget getting burned, or hit by a car, or cheated on.”

  “Stupid question.”

  “Yes, it was. But maybe I can forgive more in time. I’m trying to. I want to. I’m just not there yet.”

  “It’s been a long time,” Marvin said.

  “Trust. Hard thing to get back, Marvin.”

  “I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. I love you. I have always loved you. I just don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I do.”

  “All right. Yeah. I was thinking that. No excuse. I was a dog.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “It’s never happened again.”

  “She’s dead.”

  “I mean with anyone. It never will.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Then?”

  “It still hurts. In time, maybe it won’t. I’m going up to bed.”

  “I’ll be right up, soon as I finish my milk.”

  “Don’t hurry.”

  “No problem.”

  “No,” Rachel said. “You watch some TV. That would be good. You come up after awhile.”

  Marvin knew what that meant. After she was asleep.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

  Rachel got up from the table and leaned over and kissed him on top of the head and went upstairs. Marvin watched her go. When she was gone he finished his milk and picked up the dishes, then went into the living room and got the TV Guide. He looked it over. There was nothing he wanted to see. He stretched out on the couch. He thought about Tom and what happened to him. He got up and got the files and looked at those. He read them for awhile. He decided to go up and go to bed, but he knew he would just have his cold space on the far side of the mattress.

  He put the files away, stretched out on the couch, and thought about Florida, the woman he had cheated with, the one who was dead now. But that was a different deal, and he didn’t want to think about that. He thought about the Craver case a little more, and then he fell asleep.

  At the office the next morning, Marvin went to the bank website. It was a lot of what he already knew and had been told by Frankie and Mrs. Craver.

  The old bank had once been scheduled to be torn down. It had been sealed off as soon as it was closed, and for about two years the new bank was in a larger rented building on the other side of town. The plan was to destroy the old bank and build a new, larger, more modern one on the site. Instead, property next door to the old bank opened up and was purchased for the new bank. It was decided the old bank would be used for storage for awhile, and when the new bank was built, it would be torn down and that area would become a parking lot.

  The storage plan never materialized. The new bank was built next to the old one, and the old one was saved by the city’s historical society. Later, the new bank expanded even more and the old one was connected to it and was turned into a tourist attraction, which garnered money for the town with its simple tour and gift shop. Hanson thought about all that, decided there was nothing there that helped him much.

  The notes from the private detectives offered a little more. An armored car that delivered money to the bank came up missing for a couple of days, was later found down in the Sabine River bottoms. The two drivers were there too, but they had bullet holes in their heads. No money was in the truck at the time, and therefore nothing was stolen.

  Odd.

  And odder yet, the bank manager Frankie said was dead was indeed that. But not of natural causes. He had been murdered a month after Tom disappeared. Marvin thought it odd that Frankie hadn’t mentioned that. One of the private investigators had thought this might be important, said so in his notes, but apparently, whatever that importance was, he had never been able to link it up.

  From the notes, no one at the police department had ever spoken to Tiffany Millar, the teller. Only the private detectives, and they didn’t really have anything of value from her in the notes.

  He looked her up in the phone book. He called and she answered on the first ring.

  “Excuse me. Is this Tiffany Millar?”

  “It is.”

  “Who used to work at the bank?”

  “I did. Who is this?”

  “My name is Marvin Hanson. I’ve been hired by Mrs. Craver to look into the disappearance of her son.”

  “Again? I talked to private detectives about this before.”

  “I know. It’s probably just old hat, but I wanted to speak with you. We can do it over the phone, or in person if you prefer.”

  “I’m bored. How about I meet you somewhere?”

  “My office okay?”

  “Do you have good coffee?”

  “No.”

  “Starbucks?”

  “When?”

  “Now. Like I said, I’m bored.”

  They met at Starbucks. Hanson, who had already had morning coffee, ordered decaffeinated with soy milk and two artificial sweeteners. He bought Tiffany’s drink, which looked to be something chocolate with whipped cream and colored sprinkles on top.

  Tiffany, one hot fifty-year-old blonde who looked to have had only minimal surgery on her face, sat at the table and crossed her legs, which were long and smooth and clothed in high-heel shoes. Marvin thought: Who wears high heels in the middle of the day to go to Starbucks? But, he didn’t mind all that much, and since he assumed she sat the way she did so she could show him her legs, he let her.

  She smiled at Marvin. He was sure it was a smile that had melted many a male heart and made many a female mad. It was doing something to him as well, though the area it was affecting was somewhat lower than the heart.

  “I don’t know I can add much to help,” she said. “All I know is Tom came up missing and no one has found him, and that he came into the bank that day and spoke with Frankie. She was cute then,” she said. “Though I think time has been somewhat rough on her.”

  “Not financially,” Marvin said.

  “No. Not so bad in that department.” Tiffany said all of this between sips of her drink. “She endures.”

  “Is there anything you can tell me about that day?”

  “Tom came in and spoke to Frankie at her desk, and they argued a little, and then he left.”

  “Did you hear anything they said?”

  “No. Not really. I think it was over money. He wanted some, and she didn’t want to give it to him. I think they were not really together by then. He just hoped they were. And I don’t think it was for l
ove. I think it was money, because his mother wouldn’t give him any more, and he thought his wife might. I think Frankie and her mother-in-law were close.”

  “Still are,” Marvin said.

  “Okay. But it wasn’t love. It was her money, and the money he thought he might get from his mother by way of his wife.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t love he was after?” Marvin said.

  “Because he had hit on me before, right after he got out of prison.”

  “He came in before that?”

  “He came in three or four times,” Tiffany said. “He’d walk around and look the bank over, and act like he was interested in the place. You know, it was still the old bank in that day, and it had a kind of pioneer feel about it. It was old and small. It’s a museum now. You should have a look at it.”

  “I will.”

  “He liked to look around and see the bullet holes in the wall. The bank had been robbed in the early nineteen-hundreds, old cowboy-style, except the robbers came with a car instead of a horse and got shot to death before they left town. They were shot with some kind of big gun. Shot so much it knocked one of them out of his boots. The car had a flat, you see, and the law caught up.”

  “But you didn’t hear anything odd between Frankie and Tom?”

  “If I did, I’ve forgotten it. I just remember it was an argument and money came up, and that was it. I really didn’t mean to hear that much, but it was hard to help, you know. Small bank.”

  “Did Tom talk to anyone there besides her that time, or for that matter, the time before?”

  “Just hit on me. Oh, I guess he chummed it up with everyone. He was a real glad-hander. A bullshitter, you might say. Excuse my language. TV has ruined the way I talk.”

  “Did you and Frankie socialize outside of the bank?”

  “Usually just bank functions.”

  “What about the bank manager?”

  Tiffany was suddenly a little less light. “Jim was found dead, you know.”

  “What did he die of?”

  “Two bullet holes.”

  “Oh,” Marvin said, as if he didn’t know. “How long after Tom disappeared did that happen?”

  “About two weeks, I think. Yes. That seems about right.”