Dead Soldiers

by Crider, Bill

  “I don’t go there often,“ Burns said.

  “Well, you can take my word for it. There’s a doorway there. I ducked back under the stairs and dragged Melinda with me. And if you think that was easy, you’re wrong.“

  “I can imagine.“

  “Yeah. Like dragging a hippo. Anyway, I got back under there and hunkered down, but there weren’t any more shots. After a little while, I came out and came on back home.“

  “I thought he’d been hit by a car or something,“ Joynell said. “He never stays gone for long, but this time he was gone for nearly an hour.“

  “OK, so I hunkered down for more than a little while. Anyway, I’m all right.“

  “How about Melinda?“ Burns asked.

  “She’s fine. She didn’t like the dragging part, but aside from that she didn’t even know anything had happened. She’s snoring away in the utility room right now.“

  “You’re sure somebody shot at you? It wasn’t just some truck backfiring?“

  “I told you the bullet took a hunk out of the wall, right? Look here.“ Tomlin pointed to his right cheek. “See those little scratches? That’s where the brick chips hit me.“

  Burns tried to think of some reason why a brick might explode by accident. He couldn’t come up with anything.

  “I’m going to call Boss Napier,“ he said.

  “Aw, geez,“ Tomlin whined. “He’ll just try to figure out some way to blame me for what happened. He’ll call it a failed suicide attempt or something.“

  “I don’t think so,“ Burns said. “Matthew Hart was killed yesterday, and now someone’s tried to kill you. Napier takes things like that very seriously.“

  “All right, you can call him. But remember: I didn’t want you to.“

  “I told him to call the police,“ Joynell said, “but—“

  “He never listens,“ Burns and Tomlin said together.

  “Well,“ Joynell said, “you don’t.“

  Chapter Thirteen

  Burns called the police station and spoke to the dispatcher, who said that Boss Napier was indeed in the building, or he had been until a few minutes previously. Maybe he still was.

  Burns asked the dispatcher to ring Napier’s office and see if he was there. The dispatcher said, “Hold, please,“ and the line went quiet.

  “What kind of guy works this late at night?“ Tomlin asked.

  “He might not do it every night,“ Burns said. “Or he might have been called in for some reason. Police don’t have regular hours like English teachers. Or like English teachers are supposed to have. Anyway, I don’t have his home number.“

  “It’s probably listed,“ Joynell said. “Pecan City’s not so big that people have unlisted numbers, not even police chiefs.“

  Napier’s voice came on the line. It was not filled with delight.

  “Burns? What the hell are you calling me for at this time of night?“

  “Somebody tried to kill Mal Tomlin.“

  There was a long pause, and then Napier sighed. “I knew it wouldn’t do any good to tell you to stay out of it. I knew that no matter what I said, you’d be right in the middle of things. I don’t know why I even tried.“

  “I didn’t plan to get involved,“ Burns said. “But Mal called me.“

  Napier sighed again. “I won’t even ask why he didn’t call us. I probably don’t want to know.“

  Burns resisted the urge to say that calling an English teacher in the event of a crime seemed to be the first thought HGC employees had. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, and for once he managed to do it.

  Finally Napier said, “Where are you, Burns?“

  “I’m at Mal’s house.“

  “I guess he’s standing right there by you, right?“

  “Right.“

  “Put him on, then.“

  Burns handed the phone to Tomlin and said, “He wants to talk to you.“

  Tomlin took the phone with great reluctance. He listened for a few seconds. Once he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. Then he began telling Napier what had happened. When he was done, he answered a few questions and hung up.

  “He’s coming over,“ Mal said. “He doesn’t want you to leave.“

  Burns had been afraid of that. He sat at the table and waited with Mal and Joynell, and they talked about the upcoming softball game. Napier arrived in only a few minutes, for which Burns was grateful. He didn’t enjoy talking about the game.

  Tomlin went to the door and then returned with Napier trailing along behind him. Joynell asked if Napier wanted coffee, but he turned it down.

  “I guess you already know Carl,“ Mal said.

  “We’ve met once or twice,“ Napier said. “Now tell me again about what happened.“

  Mal went over it one more time.

  “I guess you’re going to have to show me where you were when it happened,“ Napier said when Mal was finished. “I’m not familiar with the grounds of the old hospital. You might as well come too, Burns.“

  Burns would have preferred going home to bed, but at the same time he had to admit that he was interested in seeing the scene of the crime.

  Mal led the way to the hospital building, which sat in the middle of an entire block. The part of the block not occupied by the building was overgrown by trees and bushes and weeds.

  The night was warm and dry, and the moon was bright. Burns could hear the crickets and the stirring of leaves in the soft night breeze and not much else.

  “You’d think someone would have heard the shot and reported it,“ he said.

  “Everybody’s asleep,“ Tomlin said. “Besides, it was just one shot. Anybody who heard it would think it was just some harmless loud noise.“

  “What I think is that someone should put a fence around this place,“ Napier said. He was carrying a large flashlight, and he shined the light on the crumbling walls of the dilapidated building. “Some kid’s going to wander into that old ruin and get hurt.“

  Burns agreed. “The lawsuit’s going to be huge,“ he said.

  “Here’s where I was standing,“ Mal called out.

  He had walked down a cracked sidewalk to some concrete steps that led upward to what had at one time been the front entrance to the building. The doors were gone now, and there was just a dark, gaping opening. Mal pointed out a place on the side of the steps, and Napier shined a flashlight on it. There appeared to be a chunk gouged out of the brick.

  “That’s where it hit,“ Mal said. “Right there.“

  “Don’t stomp around,“ Napier said. “The bullet is going to be around here someplace. I’ll send an evidence team out tomorrow morning when it gets light.“

  “Right there’s the place I ducked into,“ Mal said, pointing out a dark doorway. “I might already have stepped on the bullet.“

  “We’ll find it,“ Napier said. “You stayed in there how long?“

  “Not long,“ Mal said. “Well, maybe forty or forty-five minutes.“

  “All right. Is there anything else you can think of about what happened. Did you hear anything else? See anything?“

  “Not a thing,“ Mal said.

  Burns looked around the neighborhood, trying to figure out where a shot could have come from. Napier appeared to be doing the same thing.

  There were houses all around except for one small deserted building in the next block. Pecan City had no zoning ordinances, so there were sometimes businesses right in the middle of residential blocks. This one was on a corner. It had been a pharmacy, but the pharmacist had long since retired and moved away, leaving behind a building that no one else wanted to rent. It wasn’t in quite the state of ruin that the hospital was, but it would have been easy to break into. And it had a good view of the place where Mal had been standing.

  “I’m going to have a look at that place,“ Napier said, and started in the direction of the abandoned building.

  He didn’t say anything else, so Burns and Tomlin followed him. When they got to the pharmacy, Napier stopped an
d looked back at them.

  “I’m going to look inside,“ he said. “I want the two of you to stay out here.“

  “Gotcha,“ Tomlin said.

  Napier turned his flashlight on the ground and looked it over carefully before entering the building. There was a door hanging half off the hinges, and Napier went by without even touching it.

  “The old town has really gone downhill,“ Tomlin said. “I can remember when half the people here bought things at that pharmacy.“

  “Couldn’t compete with the chains,“ Burns said.

  “Yeah,“ Tomlin agreed. “Like a lot of other places.“

  Over the past few years, a number of long-established Pecan City businesses had closed, unable to cut their prices to match those of the Wal-Mart and other discounters that had opened stores on the highway, away from the downtown area. There were a number of buildings downtown that looked a lot like the old pharmacy.

  Burns listened hard, but he couldn’t hear Napier moving around inside the building. He couldn’t even hear the crickets any longer. Then a mosquito whined around his head. He slapped at it, then looked at his hand.

  Missed.

  Mal tapped him on the shoulder. “Look.“

  Burns turned and saw headlights moving slowly down the street that fronted the hospital.

  “You think that’s someone out for an innocent late-evening drive?“ Tomlin asked.

  “Probably,“ Burns said, though Pecan City’s streets were generally deserted after ten-thirty in the evening. There were rumors that the streets were rolled up about that time, but the rumor wasn’t true. The traffic lights were set to begin blinking at ten o’clock, however.

  “What if it’s someone who’s not so innocent?“ Tomlin asked.

  Burns realized for the first time just how hot the evening was. The breeze that had been blowing earlier had died down to nothing, and the leaves no longer moved on the trees. The humidity had risen slightly, and Burns’s face felt sticky. The car was still moving very slowly in their direction.

  “What if it’s the guy who shot at me, and he’s coming back to see if he got me?“ Tomlin asked. “You know, returning to the scene of the crime.“

  “I don’t think people really do that,“ Burns said. “I think it’s just an old wives’ tale.“

  “I’ll bet Boss Napier knows whether it’s true or not. Let’s go inside and ask him.“

  “He told us to stay out here. I don’t think we should go in.“

  “I’m not scared of him,“ Tomlin said.

  Burns smiled. “But you’re scared of that car?“

  “Damn right. Or whoever’s in it. I’m the one who got shot at, remember? If he tried once, he might try again.“

  The car was going even slower now. In fact, the closer it got to them, the slower it went.

  “It’s going to stop,“ Tomlin said. “You can stay out here if you want to. I’m going in.“

  The car came to a stop at the curb about twenty-five yards away, and the lights went off. Burns was beginning to think that Tomlin had the right idea. Then the car door opened. The interior light came on, but Burns couldn’t see the driver’s face.

  “Come on,“ Tomlin said, tugging at Burns’s elbow.

  Burns didn’t move. He was waiting to see if the driver got out.

  He did, and then reached into the car. When he turned back around, he was holding a gun.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As the man turned toward them, Tomlin yelled, “Hit the dirt!“ and shoved Burns hard in the small of the back.

  Burns staggered forward as Tomlin dived behind a nearby pittosporum bush.

  The man raised the gun and fired.

  It wasn’t a rifle. It was a shotgun, and to Burns it sounded like a cannon. He heard a swarm of angry hornets whir over his head. There was crackling and clinking behind him as the buckshot struck the building.

  Boss Napier came barreling out of the abandoned pharmacy, his .38 in his hand.

  “Put the gun down,“ he shouted. “Put it down or I’ll put you down.“

  “Is that you, Boss?“ the gunman asked in a quavery voice.

  Napier turned the beam of his flashlight on the man’s face. “Damn right. Now put that gun down before I have to shoot you.“

  The man bent and laid the gun on ground. When he stood up, he raised his hands and said, “What about those other two? You gonna shoot them?“

  “They’re with me. Lock your hands and put them behind your head.“

  The man did as he was told. “I don’t see what you’re gettin’ so hot about. All I did was try to protect my property.“

  “Your property?“ Napier said. “Who the hell are you?“

  “Ben Dabney. That’s my land you’re on, Boss. I guess you could say you’re trespassin’.“

  “What the hell,“ Napier said, jamming the .38 into its clamshell holster. “Come on up here, Ben.“

  While Dabney was walking toward them, Burns went to the pittosporum bush. Mal was still there.

  “You can come out now,“ Burns said. “I think the guy’s harmless.“

  “Oh, yeah? Then why did he try to kill us?“

  “I don’t think he was trying to kill us. He shot over our heads. He thought we were breaking into his building.“

  “Well, I wasn’t. Napier was. Why didn’t he shoot at Napier?“

  “We were more convenient targets. Come on out, and let’s see what’s going on.“

  Mal crawled from beneath the bush, stood up, and brushed himself off. He didn’t seem inclined to move any closer to Napier, however, so Burns went back alone.

  Napier was talking to Dabney. “I want to know what the hell you were shooting at,“ he said.

  “I just came to check on my property,“ Dabney said. “And I saw two men up here. One of ’em made a run at me, so I fired off a warning. Can I take my hands down now?“

  “Go ahead,“ Napier said.

  Dabney unclasped his hands and lowered them.

  Burns couldn’t tell how old Dabney was, exactly. In the moonlight, he looked anywhere from seventy to a hundred. His face was lined with wrinkles, and a thin fringe of hair stuck out all around the Astros cap he was wearing.

  “How did you know we were here?“ Burns asked him.

  “Heard it from Lank Hamilton,“ Dabney said. “He lives right over yonder, and he heard somethin’ that sounded like a rifle shot earlier. Didn’t pay it much mind, but later on he saw some fellas messin’ around the hospital. When you came up here to the pharmacy, he gave me a call.“

  “Do you own the hospital building?“ Napier asked. “Or just the pharmacy.“

  “Both of ’em. I didn’t mean to shoot at the law, Boss. Is this fella one of your officers?“

  Napier looked at Burns. “Not hardly. Wait a minute, that’s a double negative or something. He might arrest me since he’s an English teacher.“

  “English teacher?“ Dabney said.

  “Never mind,“ Napier told him. “I’d advise you to get a fence put around that hospital building, Mr. Dabney, either that or have it torn down all the way. Somebody’s going to get hurt there if you don’t. And if I were you, I’d do something about this place, too.“

  “I been thinkin’ about that,“ Dabney said. “I’ll start workin’ on it tomorrow morning, for sure.“

  “Wait until I call you and tell you to get started. And hire you some good help.“

  “All right. Can I go home now?“

  “Go ahead,“ Napier said. “Don’t forget your twelve gauge.“

  “I won’t. Can I ask you one thing?“

  “What?“

  “What are y’all doin’ up here, anyhow?“

  “That’s police business, Mr. Dabney. We didn’t disturb your property, though, and it’s not anything that you need to worry about.“

  Dabney wasn’t satisfied. “I’d like to know about it, anyhow.“

  “I’ll let you know later on, when it’s all cleared up,“ Napier said. “Now y
ou just get your shotgun and go on home.“

  Dabney turned away and walked back toward his car. When he reached the shotgun, he picked it up and then put it in the back seat.

  “I guess we showed him,“ Tomlin said at Burns’s right shoulder.

  “We sure did,“ Burns said. “I’ll bet his knees are knocking together like castanets right about now.“

  “Shut up, you clowns,“ Napier said. “It’s a wonder Dabney didn’t kill you. What did he mean, saying that one of you made a run at him?“

  “It might have looked that way,“ Burns said. “But nobody ran at him. Mal pushed me.“

  “Sure, blame it on me,“ Tomlin said. “I was just trying to save your life.“

  “Never mind,“ Napier said. “I’m sorry I asked. Tomlin, you go on home. I want to have a little talk with Burns.“

  Burns didn’t like the sound of that. A private talk with Boss Napier was worse than a phone call from a dean.

  “I’d better go on with Mal,“ Burns said. “I don’t want him to get lost.“

  Mal gave them a questioning look.

  “Forget about it, Burns,“ Napier said. “Tomlin’s going home, and you’re sticking around. Isn’t that right, Tomlin.“

  “Absolutely,“ Mal said. “I’m practically there already. See you later, Carl.“ He didn’t add, “I hope,“ but his tone left no doubt that he meant it.

  When Mal was a few yards away, Napier said, “And don’t talk to anyone about this.“

  Mal promised he wouldn’t. Napier took Burns’s arm and said, “I want to show you something.“

  Burns hoped it wasn’t a bullwhip. “I don’t want to see anything. I’m staying out of this, just like you told me.“

  “Too late,“ Napier said. “I really didn’t want you mixed up in this, but it’s just not going to work out. It never does when you’re around. You’re in.“

  “I don’t want to be in.“

  “Quit your whining. You’re in, and that’s that.“

  Burns didn’t like it, but he didn’t argue any more.

  When they got to the doorway of the pharmacy, Napier said, “Stop here. We’re not going inside. I wouldn’t want you to touch anything and screw up the crime scene.“