“I was just hoping for one.” Pinder kept his patience as he back tracked the conversation.
“There’s plenty of ‘em.” Bestoni replied as if he was talking about the weather.
“No…………”
“Uh, yeah.” Bestoni retorted with a big helping of sarcasm.
“They’re still around?” Pinder voice went a little louder, causing heads to turn. He lowered his voice by leaning forward toward Bestoni over the counter between them. “How do you know?”
“I did a story on them a couple of months ago.” Bestoni explained. “Those things are ridiculous.”
“I read your column every day.” Pinder’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t read about this.”
“I was ghostwriting for the Discovery Channel.” Bestoni came clean. “I used an alias and everything. You can’t live on what they pay in the newspaper business anymore.”
“Oh,” Pinder seemed breathless for a moment.
“Excuse me, sir.” Maggie finally spoke up. “Can someone fill me in here?”
You’re not from here, are you?” Bestoni regarded her.
“I’m from Baltimore.” Maggie turned her head to face the challenge.
Aw jeez…….”
“You got a problem with that?”
“Maggie,” Pinder held up a hand and then nodded to Bestoni. “Let him speak.”
“Al Capone built a crap load of tunnels all over Chicago to move contraband and people in and out of gin joints in prohibition.” Bestoni explained with a few hand gestures.
“Tunnels?” Maggie was dumbfounded
“Yeah,” Bestoni nodded. “They’re still there. They were built to last.”
“Where do these things go?” Maggie suddenly had a million questions.
“Everywhere.” Bestoni almost laughed. “The tunnels are like a goddamn anthill.”
“How far west can they take us?” Maggie kept going.
“The one at Macy’s goes all the way to the Amtrak station.” Bestoni explained with slight touch of local pride. “I was in that one myself.”
“Do you know where it is?” Maggie felt herself on a roll.
“Sure,” Bestoni was starting to clue in. “Its’ in the boiler room, I could take you there.”
“Perfect,” she had an intensity in her eyes that Bestoni found hard to look at. The rest of Maggie’s face was an etching of determination.
“Maggie,” Pinder sounded exasperated as he started to try and talk her out of it. The conversation was starting to draw a few more eyes and ears in their direction. Bestoni did a slow pan around the room. He wasn’t looking for one thing in particular. It was just a habit he had picked up. He was carefully committing everything to memory in case he had to write about it later. Call it a professional habit.
“Sir, “ Maggie leaned forward to press her point home. “There is no other way to do this.”
“We could use the bus to get to Macy’s.” Pinder was trying to find a way around her idea.
“They’ll be on you before you get on the bus.” Maggie shook her head.
Pinder then paused and listened for a second. It was the best way he could think of to try and punch holes in her plan. After all, he was trying to save her life. Christ, Maggie. Pinder felt a surge of frustration. What the hell are you doing?
“Sir, even if you get to the bus.” Maggie kept her tone calm. “There are enough of them to turn the bus over. Then they’d be coming in through every window.”
Pinder sighed and realized he was losing the debate. He could order her not to go, just put his foot down. His eyes grew distant for a second as he tried to visualize their situation. If he said no it accomplished nothing. He suddenly felt remorse and loneliness clawing away at his insides. Maggie was right, their options were decreasing fast. All it took was for one solid push on that front door and they’d have a firefight on their hands.
“Alright,” Pinder nodded reluctantly. “But, you are taking two other people with you.”
“You got a volunteer right here, sir.” It was Symons who appeared behind Maggie.
“Belay that!” Maggie said after a shocked silence. She turned to face Symons with wide, angry eyes. No!
“Why not, ma’am?” Brett locked his eyes on Maggie and didn’t blink. The debate just became more complicated.
“Sir, I have been consulting the Captain on today’s mission.” Maggie tried to think on the fly. “Mr. Symons can take my place. He knows how I do things.”
I’m sure he does. Pinder bit his tongue and instead replied: “Fine, “ Symons looked like he was about to put up a fight. Instead, he turned to Maggie with a look of anger behind a smoke screen of discipline.
“I want to go, ma’am.”
“Brenda,” Maggie felt the situation slipping away from her control. “No, not you.”
“Ma’am, I run with you.” Brenda was focused and confident. “We can do this.”
“I’ll take the last spot.” Before Maggie could reply to Brenda, Chalmers piped in from the back. When Maggie turned to face him he cocked his head confidently and said: “I did track in high school, ma’am.”
“Fine, thank you. Both of you.” Pinder nodded first to Voorhees and then to Chalmers. “Lieutenant, I need you to co-ordinate with your team. Let me know when you are ready.” Pinder walked away into an adjacent men’s room to throw water on his face or throw up. He wasn’t sure which just yet.
“Could I have a minute of your time, ma’am?” It was Symons. He was raring to have it out.
“This way,” Maggie walked toward the small kitchen behind the cafeteria. She was going to slam the door open to start the flow of her adrenalin. At the last moment she opened it carefully and held it for the Sergeant before letting it swing shut.
“Can you tell me why…..” He spoke in a tone that seemed to have been chiseled from granite.
“Because you can’t.” Maggie turned to face him. Damnit! She clenched her fists by her side. Brett paused for an unsure second as she continued. “You don’t understand.”
“Maggie……..” His voice was a soft whisper with a firm undertow. His eyes were wide and compassionate.
“You don’t understand.” She started to shake her head. Maggie felt the landslide that had been holding back begin to crumble a bit.
“Tell me and I’ll understand.” Brett kept his voice calm and assured. He was like that, so resolute in the eye of the storm.
“No you won’t.” she stepped forward. It was not for comfort. She had to make a point. “I barely understand.”
“Look,” his voice grew softer and she held up her hand slowly.
“I’m just not myself, anymore.” Maggie felt something track down her cheek that was wet and salty. “I may never be the same again.”
“You mean ……… Murphy?” He leaned forward for support.
“Every minute,” her eyes were wide and electric. “I can feel his hands on me. I can smell him, I can…..” she paused to stop from gagging. “This might be forever.”
“We’re gonna get this guy,” Brett was really trying to be the rock he always was. Maggie just wished he could feel it from her side for a second. He would know. He would understand. It was one of the most wonderful things about him.
“How are we gonna do that?”Maggie switched to cold logic. Fuck, I hate this. “Do you know who’s gonna get this guy?”
Brett was in listening mode. He was taking in everything right now. Maggie tried to keep her voice steady as she repeated: “Do you know who’s gonna get this guy?”
“Pinder.” Symons replied calmly.
“You bet,” Maggie leaned forward. “Nobody can crawl inside my head and see what happened. “ She took a long careful breath to at least appear to be calm. “Pinder has numbers, spreadsheets.”
The reflection in his eyes and a barely perceivable nod of his head was his only reply. Maggie leaned closer.
She took a long moment and searched his eyes to make sure he understood. For a minute M
aggie saw him teaching her how to ride a horse one weekend. God, it felt like a million years ago and just yesterday. Maggie opened her mouth slowly to breath and continued; “He doesn’t need to get him, he’s got him.”
“Yeah. That’s’ why he’s here.” Brett straightened up for a minute and his left hand rubbed the back of his neck while he thought about what he could do or say next. The fluorescent light of the kitchen seemed to remind him of a surgery room. It had the feel of a germless place where the insides of someone were turned inside out. That was really what had happened, right? How do you grasp what you can’t understand? He paused for a second and tried to compare something in his past to what Maggie had been through. He came up blank. Is that the problem here? We just don’t get it. He wanted to throw up his hands in frustration but instead just buried himself in watching her. Maybe there was a clue in her eyes. The way she moves or the tone of her voice. It had to be somewhere. He knew he would be there to pick up the cue when it happened. How long? He paused for a second and made a guess. It could be years.
But that was fine. He decided. Right here, right now and more he was where he had to be.
“You need to take care of Pinder.” She was looking deeply at him right now. Her voice had found an even keel. “You need to do this for me. “ She paused and then added: “I need you to do this.”
“What are you gonna do?” Symons hated what he was saying but knew it had to be said. “Are you gonna go out and get yourself killed?”
Maggie wanted to reply. Brett deserved so much more than what was playing out right now. She wanted to make him understand it probably won’t be right for her ever again. She couldn’t be with him and not think about Murphy. She could not be with anyone ever again. It felt like a part of her soul had been murdered.
Murder, bloody murder. She so wanted to scream it at the top of her lungs.
Then he kissed her hard on the mouth. Although it caught Maggie by surprise she fit perfectly in his arms and let herself go. Maggie explored and found the taste of his mouth. There was that scent he had that just took her breath away as she flashed back to the first time they had made love, the first time she felt chills when he looked at her. The first times. Explosive, dangerous and willing to the touch. Nothing will ever compare, her hands moved up his shoulders to caress his face as they both pulled away. Maggie took a long, luxurious and ragged breath and stared deeply into his eyes. She didn’t know what she was searching for but a part of her knew she had already found it.
Could I ever again? She wondered. That’s’ what this is, she looked at him and wanted to make him understand. A part of me is gone; murdered. The trouble with this kind of damage is you can’t see the wounds or internal carnage. You can’t make anyone understand. But, its’ just like murder.
I’m going out there. She thought but could not say, because I’m dead already. But, Brett…..the final judgment seemed to get lost in her heart as she remembered the taste of his mouth. The scent of his skin and sweat lingered through her senses.
*
It felt like a regular day at the office as Maggie sat in the kitchen and talked quietly with Brenda and Chalmers. She was still haunted by the noises a few floors above and didn’t want to press her luck. Pinder stood a few feet away with his arms crossed, half listening to the conversation. It was as if he was waiting to find a reason to call the whole thing off. He occasionally would tilt his head toward their conversation and his intelligent eyes would scan the three of them like a programmer looking for a fault in a binary code. No, he didn’t like this, Maggie thought. He’s probably ripping himself apart for being unable to find another solution.
“Triangle formation,” Maggie’s fingers played in the air as she continued. For a minute, she had a flash back to being fourteen and she and Molly were playing with Chinese finger puzzles. The laughter as they got stuck seemed to almost echo off the walls. How long ago was that? “We cross Millennium Park at the Art Institute and head for Millennium Station.”
“What about the Metra?” Chalmers matched Maggie’s tone of voice. Quiet, whispery and subtle to the world. “We could use it as a Plan B at Van Buren or Millennium.”
“Good call,” Maggie nodded. “Our first order of business is to clear those things out of the path to Macy’s from where we are now.” A train ride from her past popped into her memory. She was on the Amtrak route through Baltimore. The seats seemed very large so she must have been just a little girl. Maggie remembered trying to read the graffiti on the walls as they flashed by.
“We find a train and get inside.” Maggie finished up. “It’s elevated and safe we’ll have lots of time to figure out how to start the damn thing.” Pinder added a punctuation to the end of her sentence by nodding once and moving toward the door.
“Sir?” Maggie questioned.
“Just getting our bus driver.” Pinder said over his shoulder as the door swung outward into the cafeteria.
*
“There are two levers to your left.” His bald head had a few beads of sweat dotting his smooth black skin as he explained slowly. Whether it was nerves or temperature was no matter as they listened. “The far left gets you ready to proceed.”
“Far left is the ON switch.” Brenda was making a note with a pencil on a piece of paper she had pulled out of the lobby.
“Sort of,” he explained. ” It’s your forward or reverse switch.”
“Okay,” another line was scribbled on the paper.
“When you are ready to go,” he acted out the role in front of them for added memory retention. “Pull the lever in front of you toward you.”
“Got it.”
“Do it slowly,” he held up a cautionary finger. “Those things are sensitive and you only need to go about ten or fifteen miles an hour.”
“Perfect,” Maggie nodded. A sidebar made her speak up. “How do you know this?”
“The more you know. “ He replied seriously. “The more hours you can get.”
Maggie nodded her head and straightened herself up and shouldered her weapon as the bus driver took his cue and made an exit. She felt a sense of calm work itself into her. She was 15 and looking out her bedroom window on an April morning. The sky was overcast with grey clouds that hung low in the sky with tendrils of black peaking in and out of the mist. She could have been there for hours. Maggie exhaled slowly and looked around for the next thing to do. She checked her ammunition and ran a mental checklist of things to leave behind to lighten her load. The memories, she pondered. They say your life flashes before you when you die.
Is this how it is? Her eyes stared into nothing. Has it already begun?
*
“We’re sorry,” The voice droned on from her cell phone. Was it even a human voice? She listened to it uncounted times. “All circuits are busy at this time. Please try again later.”
Maggie thumbed the auto dial for her sister. The recorded message interrupted her train of thought. What she would say to Molly? Damnit. She lowered the phone from her ear and thumbed her mom and dad’s home number. They had to be the last people on earth who still had a landline. The same mechanical bitch blocked her path again. Finally, she tried their cell phone.
She got a ring. Maggie tensed up and without even thinking closed her attention around the small cellular speaker. It was like concentrating on a single passage in a prayer book. Oh please. Dad, answer the phone. He was always the one who kept the cell phone around. It was in the back pocket of those Walmart jeans he always used to buy. “Daddy “ jeans. Molly used to call them. The phone kept ringing as she pleaded and felt her breath inhale and exhale rapidly. A sharp click introduced her to a vast universe of silence. It felt like there was someone there. But, maybe it was hope stacking itself on top of hope. Trying to build a reasonable doubt that was strong enough to convince her they were still alive.
Click…………………….dial tone.
The muscles around Maggie’s face tightened into a frown as she exhaled in frustration. She had
this moment in her head that stopped everything. It was Dad in shorts walking down Innisfil beach holding Mom’s hand. It was a time frame of surreal peace. The waves lapped away at their bare feet as the world bathed in tranquility. There they were, walking away from her. No……….
Come back, please come back…….
Fade to black.
She opened the messenger app and clicked on Molly’s address and then her mom and dad before tapping a brief communiqué and hitting send.
I love you. It said.
*
“Ready?” It was Pinder at the front door. The couch had been silently moved aside. Chalmers nodded to the Captain seriously. His confidence seemed to have taken a step back as his hands tightened on the polymer grip of his semi automatic. Brenda arched her chin silently to acknowledge she was set and Maggie gave one look around before preparing to leave. Her eyes gravitated to Brett. He had been watching every move Maggie made. He wanted to say something, anything.
The Drumhead Page 14
