Kotch stepped back, his arms out, pleading, his eyes wide and filling with tears. “Come on, man, no...I’m cool, please.”
There was no way Marco wanted to lift a body that size. “Get in the trunk, fat boy. I just need you out of the way for a few hours. Give me the keys.”
“No, man, I can’t get in there.”
Marco pressed the silencer against Kotch’s enormous head. “It’s either get in the trunk and live, or I blow your brains out on the spot. Get the fuck in. Two hours and you’ll be out.”
Kotch handed over the keys. His hands trembled. He backed up to the trunk, sobbing.
Marco shoved at his chest. “Roll your fat ass in. I’m losing patience here.” Kotch tumbled in. The car’s back end bounced and then sunk.
“There, that wasn’t so damned hard, was it?” Marco pointed the gun at Kotch and stood back several feet. He knew what to expect from a headshot. He gripped the gun in both hands.
“Sleep tight, dipshit,” Marco said.
Before he could manage a scream, a bullet slammed into Kotch’s head. Two more found his chest.
Marco retrieved his money from Kotch’s pocket. He closed the trunk on the corpse and drove the car to long-term parking at Toronto International Airport. The guy in the ticket booth hardly took his eyes away from his newspaper. He hung his hand out the window blindly for Marco’s cash, then absently handed him a ticket.
The car could stay there for a week or so without attracting much attention, and it would be at least four or five days before the smell drifted around the nearby parking spots. He picked a spot against a wall, a few levels up, and backed the car in so the low back end wouldn’t be obvious. He took Kotch’s house key off the key ring, dropped the key into his shirt pocket, and threw the rest of the ring into a garbage bin.
Marco knew where Kotch lived. He’d arranged through Kotch for some equipment to be set up in a bedroom the hooker used to turn the odd trick. The equipment had provided him with some powerful leverage he’d need to smooth out his escape from Ontario. He joined the line outside of Terminal One and grabbed an airport limo. He told the driver to drop him at the corner of James and Main in downtown Hamilton. A short walk from there, a treat waited for Marco at Kotch’s place. He sat contentedly in the back of the limo, and nodded off. When he came to, he thought about his rendezvous with the hooker, and about her eventual fate.
Chapter 14
I walked up to Sue’s front door and knocked. She didn’t look thrilled to see me. I knew it had something to do with the car in her driveway, and that my arrival had probably interrupted something.
“I wasn’t expecting you, Phil...I have company.”
“I can see that. I came to apologize about...well, you know...Should I leave, Sue?”
“There’s really no need to go, but it’s up to you.”
I stared towards the living room.
Sue motioned me inside. There was a hint of a smile.
“Charles and Gloria are here, I’ve asked for their help on something. I was just getting us a drink. Would you like a beer?”
Sue had mentioned that she wanted their opinions on whatever was going on around her house. I figured they were talking spooks and considered making a comment about holding a séance. Not a good idea. “A beer would be great, Sue. Thanks.”
Sue gave my elbow a touch as I walked in. I was surprised, figured it would take a week or two for her to cool down after the way I’d acted. Charles and Gloria were both sitting in club chairs. I shook hands with both of them and sat at the end of the couch, leaning back to get my thoughts together. There was a notebook and a camera sitting on a small table next to Charles.
He shifted them with his fingers and looked over at me. “Nice night for a ride, Phil. What kind of bike is that?”
“Belongs to a friend of mine. A sixty-two Harley, 1600, old police issue, lots of miles on it. He bought it at a city auction a few years back.”
Charles moistened his lips and reached for his wine glass. “Right, I remember from the other night: you’re with the police...”
I managed not to roll my eyes. Sue arrived with my beer and a glass. She put them on the coffee table in front of me and sat at the other end of the couch. I picked up the bottle. “Cheers.” Thinking I should steer them back to their discussion, I nodded towards the notebook. “Are you doing the private eye thing, Charles?”
Sue did roll her eyes, and then chuckled. Charles had a bit of a grin on his face. They all seemed pretty relaxed. Maybe they’d had a few glasses of wine before I got there.
“Sue asked us to come over and give our two cents’ worth about a few issues with her house,” Charles said.
“Which issues?”
Sue put a hand up to her eyes, probably thinking a full-blown debate might break out. She knew I just didn’t buy the spook scenario. If that conversation continued with me there, I was resolved to giving my opinions, without being a jerk about it.
Charles examined the back of his hands as he spoke. “Well, I think you’re aware of a few things that have happened here that were a little outside the norm. Sue has asked for our help to figure them out.”
Sue picked up the thread. “You know, Phil, like the situation the other night, in the orchard.”
“The prowler?” I asked.
“Well yes,” Charles said, for a starting point, let’s call him a prowler.”
I leaned forward. I looked at him and then Gloria. I directed my answer to him. “It was a little weird, but, definitely a prowler. And, here’s how I see that, Charles. Prowlers are a threat, either to property, privacy, or safety. Sometimes to all three. They need to be handled by someone who knows what they’re doing. And, no offense, prowlers are right up my alley.”
Gloria and Sue exchanged glances. Gloria put down her glass. “We have to determine what it is that Sue has been seeing, Phil. She’s convinced that the encounters she’s had were not with...living, breathing beings, they were with something else. And if that’s so, it’s a situation we could help her with.”
I raised my voice a bit, not in anger, but with some authority. “Oh, they’re living and breathing all right. They’re living, breathing scumbags who creep around other people’s houses, and they’re generally up to no good.”
Sue had to see this for what it really was. If only she knew what I knew. I ratcheted up the cop talk, but with a conversational tone. “Step one with a prowler, is a stern warning, a caution. Step two is a handcuffing and a little visit to the cop shop. Step three requires some heavier discussions, or a bit of time in jail. Usually by then, the prowler’s looked after, and he goes searching for other places to prowl. The occurrences should stop, and everybody’s happy. When they don’t stop...well, everyone should get really concerned.”
Sue shook her head. “Phil, you saw that thing vanish. There’s much more to it than local kids or bad guys drifting across the property. People don’t just vanish into thin air like that. And this has happened a lot. Something else is going on!”
I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, say what I’d learned from Duggan. But I had to get Sue’s guard up, and keep her fear grounded in reality. “No, Sue, it looks to me like there are some good old dyed-in-the-wool street punks hanging around here, and something...or someone in this house has got their attention.”
Sue looked at me for what seemed like a full ten seconds. Then she sighed and looked at her friends.
Gloria fiddled with a button on the cuff of her blouse. “Phil, houses and landscapes sometimes hold residue from human trauma. Occasionally, after death, certain human energies stay around. We’re helping Sue find out if anything is lingering on or near her property. If so, there are some very effective and interesting ways to help them leave. Maybe you’d like to participate in that process? That’s if we come up with anything, of course.”
I kept the tone civil. “Well, good luck with that, Gloria. I’m more into the flesh and blood theory. My bet is that Sue’s prowlers are still with us. Th
ey’re still yakking, scrapping, and crapping in the real world. And like I said, a few hours in a cell might be the right approach. I just want to find out who these creeps are.”
Gloria was different, but she had a down-to-earth quality. She nodded. “We’re on the same page on that, Phil. If I caught someone on my property, I’d want to put my boot right up their ass.”
Charles raised his eyebrows, but didn’t show any other signs of disagreement. “We’re just looking at different sources, trying to keep all the options open. Between the four of us, maybe we could figure this out.”
That sounded a little patronizing, but offered a reasonable compromise. I nodded, so did Sue.
Charles checked his watch. He looked at Gloria and stood. “We’d better get going. We’ll check a few things out, and get together with you to compare notes, Sue. Nice to see you again, Phil. We’d love for you to sit in on any future discussions we have, to make sure we consider the problem from all sides.”
Gloria took a final sip of wine and stood. She came over and gave me a hug. “I’m glad my best friend has found a guy like you, Phil. After that pompous jerk, Nathan, she needed someone solid, a rock.”
She locked her eyes onto mine. “I read people well, Phil...you definitely are a rock. Just keep this in mind as things move forward here, if you only believe in the things and beings that you can see, smell, and touch, you really restrict your options as an investigator. But, when it comes to jerks that we can see, smell, and touch? I’m with you, if they’re bandits, you kick ‘em in the stones.”
Charles shook my hand and grinned, and then put his arm around Gloria. “See you soon, Phil.”
It was a good firm shake. I still thought he and Gloria were a little wacky with their theories, but it was obvious that they were great friends of Sue’s. “Good to see you too, Charles.”
He furrowed his brow. “You know, Phil, I think I owe you an apology, for the other night at the party.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I was a little curt. I had you pegged as a cop on the make. Gloria didn’t see it the same way. But you know how it is. I thought you saw an attractive woman, who might be vulnerable, and took advantage. I wanted to let you know you were on my radar. I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“I understand. I’m sure Sue appreciates you looking out for her.”
“He’s like an old mother hen,” said Gloria. “That can be annoying. If I’d have heard that, I would have pulled him away by the ear.”
Sue laughed and gave them both hugs and pecks on the cheek, and they walked to the front door. I followed along, feeling a little sheepish.
Sue and I watched them drive away, and then we went out and sat in the Muskoka chairs.
“I am sorry about the other night, Sue, and about my attitude in the morning.”
She sighed. “It’s all right. And thank you for getting to know them a bit. You were actually very civil tonight. I told you there was no need to worry about Charles.”
I felt like teasing just a bit. “All right, he’s legit. But I think he has a daddy thing for you. You know, looking out for his little girl.”
She shrugged her shoulders and groaned. I touched her wrist. “Can I stay for another beer?”
“Actually, you can stay the night.” She smiled and cocked her head. But I do have a question for you...Why did you say they?”
“What?”
“You said you wanted to find out who they are. The other night, there was only one of them. I never said there were others. Why did you say they?”
“You said it had happened before, so I assumed...It was just a figure of speech, hon.”
Sue looked at me as if she thought I might be holding something back, and then shrugged it off. She placed the back of her hand on my neck. It felt cool on my skin. She dropped it to my shirt buttons, started to undo them. “Come back inside. For a start, I’ll get you that beer.”
I held the screen door open, followed her in, and put my arm around her waist. She leaned into me, and looked into my eyes.
“Trust me, Phil. You’ll find out that my strange visitors are not who, or what you think they are.”
Chapter 15
A trucker spun off a stool, pulled a chained wallet from his back pocket, pushed his payment towards the bored-looking woman behind the counter, and started to leave. He stopped at the vending machine by the front door and purchased a pack of cigarettes. When the front door banged shut behind the man, Marco was the last customer remaining in the diner. He stood from his stool and approached the waitress.
“Bring a fried egg sandwich, an order of fries, and another black coffee to that booth at the back. I’ve got some time to kill.”
“Coming up, mister.”
Marco had been to the diner a few times over the past week. The place was well-located for him. It was on the west side of Highway 20, just south of Green Mountain Road, and less than a mile from the property he was watching. He’d been scouting the area around it as much as he could without attracting any attention.
Marco had never been to Hamilton before. As soon as he found out about the jeweler’s stashes, he asked Vince for some contacts. Vince gave him the name and location of a pool hall downtown and told him to ask for a biker named Jasper. He could set him up with the people he needed. He’d met the biker the day after he arrived in town.
Jasper introduced him to a crap-can car dealer who would provide him with cars. The guy was happy to let him use a different vehicle every day, providing there were a few bucks in it for him, and providing Marco replaced the gas in each vehicle he used. Marco said he’d give the guy extra cash and he could gas the shit-boxes up himself. He also paid Jasper to keep the guy supplied with high quality hash, and to make sure he knew Marco was paying his tab.
There was another place of interest near the diner. It was a property where he could set up when the time was right, and be within easy striking distance of the house he’d been watching. There was an old shack and a neglected farmhouse on the property. The land had been inherited by a kid nicknamed Lemon. He was a petty criminal and a customer of the drug-pushing biker. Lemon’s friends, most of them street kids, hung around the house a lot, some of them twenty-four seven. A few of them also bought from Jasper.
Jasper came into the diner and sat next to Marco. “Lemon is on his way, man. Just saw him hauling his ass along Green Mountain Road, should be here in ten.”
Marco took a bite of his fried egg sandwich and washed it down with some coffee. “Good, let him see us together. Give him the nod and point to me. Then screw off, so I can tell him what I need. Did you bring the shit?”
Jasper pulled a package from inside his leather jacket, passed it under the table, and took some cash from Marco. “No sweat, Lemon’s so fucked up, he’d lick dog shit of your boots to get his goodies. So, whatever you want, as long as you lay it out straight to him, and he doesn’t have to think for himself, you’ll be good to go.”
The biker stuffed the bills in the same pocket the package had been in.
“Listen, Marco, I hear you don’t dabble in chicken shit. Whenever you get this thing going...let me know if you have any room for an extra hand.”
“Look, for now forget that I’ve got anything happening. And keep your mouth shut. Got it?”
“No problem.”
“Good, if I need any help, and I just might, I’ll let you in. We’ll be talking.”
“Thanks, man.”
Lemon walked in and sat at the counter, waiting to order his coffee. Jasper left Marco and sat on the stool next to Lemon. Within minutes, Lemon was glancing expectantly at Marco.
A few minutes later, Jasper was headed out the door.
Marco nodded. Lemon joined him at the booth.
The skinny, disheveled kid fumbled in his coat pocket and discretely flashed his payment. He bent forward, his hand reaching under the table. “My guy says I’m supposed to get from you.”
Marco didn’t budge. He kept one h
and on the table, close to his coffee, his other arm rested along the top of the booth seat. Smoke spiraled from his cigarette. He stared at Lemon’s face. He took a deep drag. “Here’s the deal, kid.”
Lemon’s eyes did everything but connect with Marco’s, they panned left and right, skittered around the booth, and then dropped towards the table as if trying to focus.
“Are you listening, Lemon?”
“Yeah, I’m listening.”
“I’m going to look after you today, and I’ve squared some things away with Jasper. He’s going to keep you supplied gratis for a while, it may be just a week or so, but as long as I need you, I’m paying your bill.”
Lemon looked at Marco, squinting.
“But you’ve gotta stay out of shit, Lemon. That means no thieving, and no beefs until I’m out of here. Just keep using what we give, stay happy, and do what I tell you.”
“I will...but I need...”
Marco flicked the ash from his cigarette onto a plate. “It’s here for you, kid. You’ll leave with your goodies. But I need you to do something every day.” He nodded towards the front of the diner. “You see that payphone near the front door?”
“Yeah, man, what do you need?”
“I need to be able to get hold of you, and here’s how that works. One of these day you are going to have to call me from that phone, so you come in here every day starting tomorrow, always at three thirty. You sit down and have a quick coffee, and then go back to the washroom hallway. Between the two washroom doors, there’s a little cork bulletin board, you know the one?”
“Yep.”
“On the day I need you, you’ll see a blank business card with a phone number and a check mark, everything written in red ink. There will be three of them pinned up on the board, all with the same number, in case one falls off or something.”
Marco blew a smoke ring towards Lemon. “Are you with me so far?”
“I’m with you, man.”
“As soon as you see the card, you grab it and wait at the counter near the phone. You call that number at exactly four o’clock. I’ll wait till four fifteen, just in case you have to chase someone off the phone.”
Diamond Run Page 7
