by Ted Wood
“I'm sorry, pet. It's just that my dad died the same way. The memory is still painful.”
She softened at once and came over to hold me. “Poor old Reid,” she said and kissed me. “I'm sorry. I'd forgotten about that. I was so shocked about this man.”
I kissed her and said gently, “It happens in mines, Fred. These guys and their families live with that. It's one of the things you have to accept when you live in a town like Elliot.”
I showered and slept and had a late snack with a strong cup of coffee. Fred had cocoa. She yawned when I left. “All that high living yesterday is telling on me,” she said. “I'm hitting the hay the moment you leave.”
“Sleep tight,” I told her, getting my coat. “See you at eight.”
“Right.” She came and hugged me. She was barefoot and seemed tiny and fragile. I kissed her, hoping nothing was going to cause her any pain, ever. “Take care,” she said.
I put my finger on her nose and said, “You too. Don't fall out of bed.”
She laughed and I went to work.
There was a coffee can on the table in the guardroom with a hand-lettered sign: For the Wilcox family. It contained a number of five-dollar bills and I put one in while Thomas watched me.
“That's three this year,” he said, yawning. “Gettin’ expensive, workin’ here.”
“What happened? I heard it was a cave-in.”
He yawned again. “It ended up like that, but I heard it was a screwup with the blasting. Like he was a blaster and he was setting the charges. His partner had gone back to the safety room for something and then, boom.” He clapped his hands together. “From what they found they think he screwed up with a detonator, set off all the charges before he'd put ‘em in place.”
“And that made the stope collapse?”
“Yeah.” Thomas stood up and got his parka. “Shouldn't have, but maybe some of the securing bolts weren't in deep enough. There's gonna be an investigation, I know that much.”
“Are we involved?”
He shook his head. “Naah. The Workman's Compensation people handle it, coroner's office. They both got representatives in town now.” He shoved the teletype list towards me. “Listen, I got a date. There's a couple stolen cars on the list, nothing else.”
“Okay, you can split.” It was a few minutes before twelve and he came out with me and signed the car over. I put Sam into the front seat and drove into town. Wilcox's death was eating me up. It seemed to me he had been killed because he spoke to me. Murdered! For the sake of one conversation. It was a burden I would carry all my life. I tried to make sense of the sequence of events. I was surprised to hear that his assistant had been in the safety room. All mining safety procedures are carefully worked out so that no one man has to remember everything. He works with a partner. Both of them go through all the steps together. If Wilcox's partner had left the scene early it could mean he knew in advance that something was going to go wrong. It could even mean he had sabotaged the charges in some way. The thought chilled me. The only reason I knew of to kill Wilcox was that he had talked to me.
EIGHT
Ferris was on duty when I came off duty in the morning. “I want you back at seven tonight,” he said. “It's payday at the mine, and we generally get a gang of hookers in town. Also the guys can get kind of rowdy, paynights. We put two men on patrol together.”
“Right. I'll be here.” I nodded and left.
I was back at quarter to seven that evening. It happened to be the night of Fred's first class at the community center. I drove her over on my way to work. “I'll get one of the women to drop me home,” she said when I let her off at the door.
“If Jacques offers, have him out of the house by three; I'll be home then,” I said.
She laughed. “Don't worry your pointed little head, Charlie Brown,” she said and kissed me. I watched her trot up the three steps to the front door. She turned to wave and smile and disappeared. I waved back and drove on to the station. I found that my partner was going to be Walker.
We chatted as we checked the teletype for messages, waiting to be paraded out. He seemed casual, a normal-enough copper, except for Scott's words of warning. “Bringing Rin Tin Tin with us?” he asked.
“Yeah. The chief gave permission.”
“Good.” Walker grinned. “Last payday there was a rhubarb. Some horny Polack tried to jump the line.”
“What's the routine?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Nothin’ clever. We just keep the peace, if you'll pardon the pun. It generally clears up by midnight, just after. The girls go through the guys like a dose of salts.”
We went out to the car and I put Sam in the backseat and we drove past the hotel. “No sense stopping in,” Walker said. “All the action's at the other end of town, for a while anyways.”
We found the two trick trucks set up on a wide lot where someone had excavated gravel. The resulting flat area had been bulldozed out to serve as a campsite for any visitors in recreational vehicles. The township kept the snow plowed out, and the place was jammed with cars and trucks parked every which way. At the back of the lot stood the pair of Winnebagos.
The other police car was there. We got out and spoke to the two men on duty, Scott and Levesque. “Nothin’ ‘appen,” Levesque said. “The girls got ‘ere aroun’ five. Guys started comin’ out after the shift. Been steady. No trouble.”
“We didn't check the Headframe,” Walker said. “Take a look in on your way back to the station.”
“Will do,” Levesque said. “I could sure use a beer. Makes me t'irsty watchin’ all these ashes gettin’ ‘auled.”
Scott said nothing, just nodded at me and smiled sadly.
Walker and I got back into the car and he lit a cigarette.
“Great, huh?” he said, blowing smoke. “Join the p'lice force an’ sit around a parking lot watching illegal activity takin’ place under our noses.”
“The chief figures it's easier than not getting the guys fixed up.” I was testing the water, wondering how he would respond. It was possible that the chief had put him with me to make sure I didn't talk to the girls, see if they had an arrangement going.
“I guess he's right,” Walker said. “He's got the authority. What the hell do we know? Right?”
I watched as a man came out of one of the campers. He was walking slowly, as if his feet were barely making contact with the ground. Another man passed him before he was ten feet from the camper. I noticed when the first guy opened the door of the car that it was full of men, joshing one another like teenagers.
“All these cars full?” I wondered out loud.
“Gen'rally,” Walker said. “These two broads take on half the goddamn town. All the single men an’ some of the married ones.” He sat back, yawning. “Wouldn't mind a piece of that myself,” he said as the other camper door opened and a woman stood there, outlined against the light as she saw a customer out. She was wearing something sheer, and every line of her body showed through. Another man came to the door immediately and she closed the door after him, rubbing her arms against the cold.
“What's the price?” I asked.
“Fifty,” he said. “You thinkin’ of takin’ a stab at it?”
“No. That was fine when I was in the service,” I said. “I was just working it out. They must be moving a couple of grand apiece out of here at the speed they're working. Ever have any trouble?”
“You mean holdups?” Walker turned to stare at me. “You gotta be joking. Anybody tried to rip one of ‘em off, the other guys would kill him. These women are important around here.”
“Then why are we here? Other places I've seen this kind of thing, the police stay out of sight. They're on call if there's any trouble, but they don't monitor the action like this.”
“Beats the hell out of me,” Walker said. “I did hear that they had trouble once. Some john broke a girl's jaw. That was before my time. But since then the chief makes sure we're here every time.”
�
��They must be glad of that,” I said carefully. I was wondering what his response would be. If he was on the take, or knew about it, he would be suspicious.
He didn't sound it. “Yeah,” he said easily. “Makes me feel like a pimp sometimes.”
“What happens when they're through? Do the women hang around or take off?”
“Take off right away,” he said. “I guess they're on a circuit, like ball players.”
He leaned back and shoved his hat forward over his eyes, like any policeman on a boring stakeout anywhere. I stayed alert, disliking the duty but doing it. I figured there would be a disturbance somewhere along the way. Some guy would figure he'd waited long enough or someone would want to go to the wrong Winnebago when his turn came and someone else would get antsy.
What happened was different. The Winnebago nearest to us suddenly erupted with noise, a man's shouting and a woman's shrieks.
Walker sat up alertly and we got out. I let Sam out of the backseat and he came with me. The cars were opening and men were crowding towards the camper. Walker got there first. He threw the door open and we stepped inside with Sam at my heels. There isn't much room when you get two tall men in one of those things and we were jammed but I could see the struggle. A man was holding on to the woman, who was naked. He had her by the arms, and her hair was every which way as if he had been shaking her.
She turned and screamed at us. “Stop this bastard. He's beatin’ me up.”
“Outside, asshole,” Walker said.
“This is a whore,” the man roared. “You gonna take her word against mine? I'm a taxpayer.”
“You're an asshole,” Walker said. “Outside.”
The man threw the woman away from him contemptuously and she sprawled across the bed, bouncing as she fell. Walker grabbed the guy's arm and pulled him out of the wagon. I let him by and spoke to the woman. “What happened?”
She stood up, ignoring her own nakedness, looking around for her wrap only because of the cold air that was pouring in through the open door. “He's one o’ them wimps that can't get it on unless he gets rough,” she said. “There's one in every goddamn crowd.”
“What did he do?”
“When he came in he didn't talk. Just threw the money on the bed an’ grabbed me.” She pushed her hair back out of her eyes, and pulled a pack of Viceroys off the dresser beside the bed. She lit up, moving in quick angry jerks, tossing her head. I waited. She said, “Like I don't mind that. Lots of guys don’ talk. An’ sometimes they can't wait. That goes with the territory. But then he started squeezin’ me an’ it hurt.” She opened her robe and exposed her breast. “Lookit. Fingermarks, for Chrissakes.”
“Has he been in before?”
“No. An’ he won't again,” she said, her anger still boiling. “It's tough enough without guys like him.”
“You get much of this, do you?”
Now she slowed her pace and looked at me, her eyes full of contempt. “Not in this town,” she said.
She was about thirty, pretty but tough-looking. I looked back at her evenly. “You do in other towns?”
“Some of ‘em,” she said and dragged on her cigarette, then stubbed it.
“What makes this place different?” I asked.
She looked at me again, grinning crookedly. “You really want me to tell you?”
“I'm new here. I do.”
She pulled her robe tighter around her. “Didn't the chief tell you?” she asked.
“He doesn't talk to me. I'm just a rookie.”
“Yeah, an’ I'm the Virgin Queen,” she laughed harshly.
“You mean you're paying for the protection?” It was a bald question, but this was no time for subtlety. Walker would be back in with me in a matter of moments.
“What do you think, sweetheart? You figure we get a couple of cops baby-sitting us everywhere we go?”
“Who are you paying?” I demanded.
Her face was cold. “What's it to you?”
“I need to know.”
She tugged her wrap tighter around her, regaining her control. “Why? You lookin’ for your share?”
“I can put an end to it,” I said.
She laughed, scornfully. “You an’ who else? Think I want to spend paynight in the goddamn tank? It's worth every penny.”
“What's your name?” I insisted.
She laughed and opened her housecoat and squirmed her body towards me. “What would you call it?” she sneered.
“Name?” I repeated, but she only laughed, and then Walker was back at the door.
“Come on, fer Chrissakes. We got a problem.”
I turned and went out, Sam behind me. Outside a crowd of men had gathered around the guy we'd evicted. Two of them were holding him by the arms while another one punched him, his fist moving like a metronome, back and forth, into the face.
“Speak,” I commanded and Sam sprang forward, barking.
The big man looked around at the noise but ignored Sam and drove his fist into the first guy's face again. It was a mask of blood by now and the man was barely concious.
“Knock it off,” I said and the big man lowered his fist and turned around.
“I heard what happen'. This is not what a man does to a woman. I show him.” He had a rich Russian voice like you hear in an Orthodox Church. Out here among the parked cars and the shadowy trees at the edge of the lot it sounded theatrical.
“She's okay,” I said. “Go and see for yourself.”
Sam was still barking. I told him, easy, and he stopped. I could hear the clamoring voice of another man. “Hey, I'm next.”
“After him you're next,” I said.
The big Ukrainian turned away and went into the Winnebago. I noticed that he took off his hat as he entered, closing the door behind him.
The two men with the victim let go of him, and he reeled and almost fell.
Walker grabbed him. “You all right, Jack?”
“Yeah,” the man said thickly. “No goddamn thanks to you.”
“You wanna charge that guy with assault?”
The man turned his head and spat. He muttered something I didn't catch and Walker said, “You got two choices, buddy. You charge him or you go home. Which is it going to be?”
“I'm goin',” the man said. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “I'm goin',” he repeated, and he stumbled over to his car. There was nobody else in it and he started it with a clumsy roar and backed away.
Walker spoke to the other man. “I don't want any more trouble. You got that?”
“Yes, officer.” Only one of them understood. The other one spoke to him in an anxious whisper and he turned his head and answered in a low closemouthed hiss that sounded Slavic. Then they walked back to their pickup truck. The other men standing around did the same. Walker watched them go, then said, “Come on. Let's si'down.”
I put Sam in the backseat and got in. Walker was lighting up another cigarette, moving angrily. “Where the hell were you?” he demanded. “I was out there tryin’ to sort out the heyrube an’ where's my goddamn partner? Inside, makin’ nice.”
“I figured you had it under control,” I said.
“You figured you might get your goddamn head handed to you by that bohunk,” he said.
“I wanted to know what happened.”
“Did you?” He puffed on his cigarette, his anger still flickering. “You figured she'd make a complaint and lose the night's business while we took her down to the station to make a report? You figured she'd show up again for the hearing?” He shook his head impatiently. “Don't you know anything?”
His anger seemed genuine. Either he was one hell of an actor or else he had no part in Harding's payoff scheme. He was just a simple guy caught in the bind of having to work at something distasteful.
“The hooker told me something important,” I said.
“What was that?” he sneered. “Did she tell you that she gives Harding a cut? Was that it?”
“Does she?”
<
br /> He lowered his cigarette carefully and turned his head to stare at me. “You don't need to be a goddamn Einstein to know that something's goin’ down. What it is don't matter. We're cops. These guys with hard-ons are citizens. We stop any breach of the peace. Period.”
“Yeah, but we'd be doing it even if there wasn't any arrangement,” I argued. “Hell, you know as much law as me. If she's paying him off, that's illegal.”
He drew on his cigarette again, using it as a tranquilizer. “Big deal,” he said. “An’ diggin’ gold out of the inside of a rock that's liable to come down on your goddamn head is a hard way to feed your family. Baby-sitting a couple of whores is a whole lot easier. Which do you want to do for a living?”
“My father was killed the same way young Wilcox died. I'm not going down any more mines if I can help it.”
Walker relaxed, turning to look ahead of him, out of the steamy windshield. “Then quit makin’ like Sherlock Holmes,” he said. “We're both in the same boat. I got a wife an’ three kids to worry about.” It was cynical but maybe nothing more. I couldn't tell so I made the last comment I could, choosing my words carefully. “I don't like working for a crooked boss. It's liable to rub off.”
“You mean you're gonna start asking for presents?” He was still angry and his voice was dull. “Or will you take it out in kind?”
“If he goes down we're all tarred with the same brush,” I said. “I'm thirty-eight. There's not too many places want a cop with a bad smell to him, not the age I am.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Now drop the subject, will ya.”
“Okay.” I sat silently until the big man came out of the Winnebago. The woman stood in the doorway behind him and he turned and bowed to her. I could hear the catcalls of other men through the closed windows of our car and of theirs. Cheerfully the big miner turned and bowed to the crowd and went back to his truck, passing one of his buddies as he walked. They did not speak.
“One last question and I'll wrap up,” I said.
“Yeah?” I could tell from his tone that the whole subject was eating him up.
“What's the woman's name? Any idea?”
