Gin Palace 02 - The Bone Orchard

by Judson, Daniel

  “Don’t expect me to feel bad, Aug. You know as well as I how the world works.”

  “Why was it necessary, Frank?” I said, cutting in. Augie’s eyes were on Frank now. He was coiled, ready to move. I was still too far away. “Was it a warning? Was it because Concannon found out what’s buried beneath our feet?”

  Augie turned his head fast and looked at me then. Though I only saw him out of the corner of my eye, I could see the shock on his face.

  Frank was no less surprised. He shook his head and laughed, but then the laugh died abruptly.

  “Someone’s been talking to you, MacManus,” he said. “Your old buddy the Chief, I bet. I can only imagine what a scene that must have been.”

  “It was touching, Frank, you should have been there.”

  “It’s easy to be cool, MacManus, when you have nothing to lose.”

  “This isn’t me being cool, Frank. I’m just tired. I’m so tired I just might do something desperate.”

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you, MacManus.”

  I said then to Tina in Spanish, “Do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it.”

  Augie looked at me. Most of his twenty-five years in the DEA had been spent in Colombia. He knew what I was saying.

  “What are you doing,” Frank snapped.

  I continued, still in Spanish. “When I tell you to, just let yourself become dead weight and drop. Don’t worry about anything else. Augie and I will do the rest.”

  “That’s enough of your shit, MacManus,” Frank demanded.

  I said to her, “Do you understand?”

  She nodded. I looked at Augie, then down at the .45 under his jacket, at the small of his back. He was ready, he was primed.

  “I said that’s enough,” Frank sneered. He aimed the .45 at me, locking his elbow. He looked from me to Augie and back several times. “Now, you’ve got a lot of digging to do. You’d be dead right now otherwise. I’m sure as hell not going to do it. And I haven’t gone through all this just to leave your mess out in the open for everyone to find. So let’s get going, huh?”

  Neither Augie or I moved. Frank watched us. There was sweat on his forehead.

  “Start digging,” he said.

  “You’re going to kill us anyway,” I said. “So why should we cooperate?”

  “I could make things unpleasant for you both before you die.”

  Augie said, “What’s more unpleasant than digging your own grave?”

  “For one, watching your little girl suffer,” Frank answered. “She’s not the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, but her body’s good. Sixteen-year-old girls are so firm. I wouldn’t mind having her show me just how firm she is right here. A piece of clothing at a time.”

  Augie and I each took a step toward him then. Frank shook his gun in warning.

  “Is that unpleasant enough for you?” he asked.

  “Leave her out of this,” Augie demanded.

  “It’s too late for that, don’t you think?” Frank nodded toward the ditch behind us. “There’s the shovel and pick, gentlemen. I suggest you get to work.”

  I saw something on the path then, behind Frank, some kind of motion. It moved slowly, silently, still several feet from where the path opened into the clearing, at the point in the path where it began to zigzag. I couldn’t tell what it was, it was just dark motion in darkness, but I knew that whatever it was it was clearly human.

  Frank caught the shift in my line of vision and the puzzled look on my face. Just then a rustling noise came from the path, the sound of someone moving through branches.

  Now a puzzled look came to Frank’s face. He spun around, keeping Tina in front of him, and raised his .45 and fired blindly into the dark path. He got off two fast shots.

  That’s when I called to Tina and told her in Spanish to move, and when Augie and I began our charge.

  Tina let her knees buckle and dropped, but not before Frank spun around to face us again. He flung Tina toward Augie and raised his .45, leveling it at her. There was nothing I could do, there was too much ground to cover between me and them. As I charged I saw Augie snatch Tina with his left arm and instantly pull her into him, into a one-arm bear hug. Then faster than I thought he was capable of moving he spun on his heels, pulling his daughter with him. He turned his back to Frank, putting himself directly between Frank and Tina. Augie held her close to him, bending slightly at the waist, as if he was trying to surround her with his body. The instant he had grabbed hold of Tina he began to reach back for the .45 under his jacket. He began to pull it clear of his belt and turn his head back to look at Frank. He was about to raise the gun and take aim when Frank fired one round, then another, point blank.

  My heart came to a crash in my chest.

  These shots slapped my ears and left the high, shrill ringing of a tuning fork in them. I was still out of reach when the first bullet caught Augie in the left kidney. I cried out but I don’t remember what I said. I could see the side of Augie’s face, I could see him wince. He stood there with Tina held close in front of him, still shielding her. He continued, though, to turn his head and raise his .45 toward Frank. That was when the second round struck him in the dead center of his back.

  I called out again and continued my charge forward. I wasn’t covering ground fast enough. I watched helpless as Augie arched his back. He turned his head and we were looking at each other, me running for Frank, he holding his daughter. I saw his face and he saw mine. Augie pitched forward then, as if he was drunk, and fell, driving Tina to the ground with his mass. He landed on top of her and covered the length of her easily, like a huge blanket. Frank had no clear shot of her. Even in death Augie was protecting her.

  My heart now turned hot in my chest. I watched as Frank took several wide strides forward and fired several times into Augie’s lifeless body. I came upon Frank quick and flew into him hard. But he barely moved. I grabbed his gun hand and went for a wrist lock and disarm, but he was faster and stronger than I was now. As we struggled for control of the .45, he let go with his left hand and landed two hook punches into my right side. I nearly blacked out from the pain. I felt my legs wobble beneath me. While I was stunned, he grabbed a hold of the collar of my jacket and spun like a discus thrower. He let go and whipped me back almost to where I had come from. I landed hard on my stomach. I rolled over onto my back, lifted my head and looked for Frank, and that was when I saw Eddie moving out of the dark path.

  He came running into the clearing on his hobbled legs, running as fast as he could, his eyes fixed on Frank. Frank was walking toward me then on long, determined strides, unaware of Eddie’s approach behind him. Before I knew it Frank was standing over me and aiming his .45 point blank at my forehead. He adjusted his grip, then curled his finger around the trigger.

  “Say hello to your father for me,” he said.

  Something hit Frank in the center of his back then. It landed with a solid thud, knocking him forward a step. He arched his back and yelled, “Fuck.” He turned and aimed the .45 at Eddie, who flung another rock as he continued to rush toward him. This rock just missed Frank’s head. As he continued forward Eddie looked straight into the gun but didn’t blink.

  I pulled myself up into a seated position then, ignoring the pain, and lunged forward and grabbed Frank around the legs. I was going for a takedown but Frank spread his legs, widening his base and breaking the hug I had around his knees. Then I felt the butt of the .45 slam into the top of my head. It hit a second time, and then once more. I fell onto my back, and then Frank was over me again. He aimed the .45 at my head again.

  But he had no time to savor this moment. I watched as Frank pointed the .45 at my left eye. His finger curled around the trigger.

  A gunshot ruptured the night then. I flinched sharply. But it wasn’t Frank’s gun that had gone off.

  He dropped his gun hand to his side but held onto the piece. Then he slowly turned and faced the direction from which the gunshot had come.

  I looked and saw Tina,
sixteen year old Tina, standing in a shooter’s stance, holding her father’s .45 with two hands. It looked huge in her grip. She squeezed off a second shot. It grazed Frank’s shoulder. The gun kicked high in her hand but she barely blinked. When Frank didn’t fall she squeezed off another, this one hitting him just above the collarbone. She was missing bone. Striking that would drop him instantly, it wouldn’t matter how big or strong or pissed he was. His .45 fired straight down into the ground. Tina fired again, this one hitting him in the gut and passing through. Frank staggered several feet but still didn’t look ready to fall.

  I saw then that Eddie was still running full out on his hobbled legs toward Frank, twenty feet and closing. It was a collision course. Frank raised his right arm and pointed his .45 in Tina’s direction. She fired again. Where this hit I didn’t know, but Frank still didn’t move, his arm didn’t drop. With everything he had left he took aim on Tina.

  I sat up again and pulled myself to my knees and leapt forward with my right arm outstretched. I landed hard on my stomach and hooked my hand around Frank’s ankle. He was wobbling but still had his .45 up, trying to put Tina in his sights. Just as I hooked Frank’s ankle, Eddie closed what remained of the distance sacked Frank from behind with a flying tackle. The instant Eddie hit I pulled on Frank’s ankle, sweeping his foot out from under him. Frank flew a few feet, then landed on the ground with a thud.

  Eddie crashed down into me, his momentum only slightly broken by his collision with Frank. He was a heavy rainstorm elbows and knees. He rolled off me quick and I hacked on the pain and looked for Tina.

  She was standing over Frank now, her gun hand hanging at her side. She stepped on Frank’s gun hand and looked down at his face. Eddie took my arm and helped me to my feet.

  Tina had no expression on her face. Even her body language seemed blank. I opened my mouth to say something to her but it was too late. She aimed her father’s gun at Frank’s head and pulled off three shots without flinching. Eddie and I did nothing but watch. There was nothing else we could do.

  When it was done I limped over to Tina. She seemed frozen. I looked at her, but she didn’t look back at me. I reached down and eased the .45 from her small hand. I let it drop to the ground, then touched her shoulder.

  Tina looked over at her father’s body. He was facedown on the ground. After a while she walked to him and knelt down beside him. She looked at him and touched his head with a trembling hand. I waited for her to cry but no tears came.

  Eddie took a few steps forward and looked down at Augie’s body. He shook his head from side to side.

  “We have to get out of here, Mac,” he said. “We can’t be anywhere near here when it all hits the fan.”

  I knew he was right, but I didn’t like the idea of leaving Augie there, surrounded by these kinds of men. But there is never any telling which way shit will fall in this town. I knew this.

  I went to Tina and stood beside her. She didn’t look up at me.

  “We have to go,” I said to her. “We have to leave Augie here and we have to go. This is too much trouble to explain. We have to. We have to go now.”

  I looked at Eddie and nodded toward Augie’s .45, the one Tina had used to kill Frank. He knew what I meant and picked it up by the trigger guard. Then he picked up the .380, the other .45, and the shotgun I had used. He gathered them all together and left us and headed down to the shore of the bay. Once there he threw them one at a time into the water. I was surprised by what a good arm he had, by how far out over the dark water he flung each weapon.

  I knelt down and put my arm around Tina.

  “We’re all we have now,” I said. “If they find us here, we won’t even have that. I won’t ever leave you, I promise. I will always protect you. You’ll always be with me. Do you understand?”

  She turned and looked at me. There were tears hanging in her eyes. I didn’t say anything more. That was all I had to say. She looked at me for a long time, then suddenly flung both her arms around my neck and clamped onto me tight.

  I laid my hands on her back. It was the first time I held her since Tommy Miller had tried to rape her, when she clung to my side as I walked her from the back of the Southampton library to my car.

  Tina and I stayed like that for a while, and then I said, “We have to go.” I got her to her feet. We took one last look at Augie, and when we turned away from him, Eddie was standing just a few feet away.

  He was looking out over the clearing. There was still gun smoke churning in the cold air. The wind seemed to somehow have stopped, as if it had been chased away from this place along with so much life. The sight of the dark clearing seemed to occupy Eddie for a long time. When he finally turned and looked back at me, he was clearly awestruck.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said softly. “It looks like a goddamn war.”

  Chapter Seven

  I said nothing to Tina or Eddie about Frank Gannon’s private graveyard. It seemed to me for the best that they didn’t know. The events of that night in the clearing were enough to bear as it was, and anyway it had nothing to do with them. Three days after Augie’s military funeral in a veteran’s cemetery in Riverhead, the yellow police tape surrounding the clearing was taken down, and the investigation, or what passed for an investigation, was over. A detective came to the Hansom House one afternoon to interview Tina, but his questions were mostly formalities and he left after ten minutes. I had stood by the door and watched him closely as he sat and spoke with her and got the impression they thought her father and Frank had been killed by drug dealers. I didn’t know if they knew the truth and that was just their cover story, something Frank’s men came up with for the press, or if they actually believed it themselves. As the cop left his eyes met mine, and he nodded without a word.

  Tina stayed with me for a week after the funeral. We spent every moment together but barely spoke. At night she slept in my bed while I slept on the couch. Once she woke up an hour before dawn crying and we sat up at my kitchen table and drank cold tea and said nothing. I gradually came to see that the nonsense between was over. Augie’s absence had done something to us, made somehow our presence in each other’s lives much more important, much more vital.

  Not long after that night in the clearing, while Tina was at Lizzie’s house, James Curry paid me an unannounced visit at the Hansom House. He arrived at my door one stark evening, and after a moment of staring at him I stepped aside to let him in. He was carrying a briefcase and was dressed in jeans, a shirt, and black leather coat lined with dark fur. After he entered I took a look down the dim hallway to be certain that no one else was with him. Then I closed my door and folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the doorframe and waited.

  Curry went to my couch and laid the briefcase on its arm. Outside was a silent and motionless dark. It was more frozen void of space than night. I looked at the side of Curry’s face as he opened his briefcase.

  “I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?” he said.

  I waited a while, hearing what he said, dealing with the feelings his choice of words brought up in me, the sense of having come somehow full circle. “What do you want?” I said.

  He withdrew something from his briefcase and stood up straight and turned to face me. It was a folder, and there was bulk to it. My eyes lingered on it, then went back to his face.

  “I don’t have much time,” he began. “So excuse me if I seem in a hurry.” His attitude was somehow both denim casual and all business. “What I like about working with you the most, Mac, is you don’t care. You don’t want to get involved. You’re no hero, no crusader. You don’t care who gets rich or goes broke. You couldn’t be bothered. So I know that you’ll keep to yourself things that you may have heard or may have learned along the way. None of this has anything to do with you, and you have the smarts to stay out of things that don’t have anything to do with you. Do you understand me so far?”

  I said nothing, just looked at him.

  “Thanks to you, Mac, I’m about
to become a very rich man.”

  “I thought you were already rich.”

  “You can always be richer. Anyway, the deal is close to going through.”

  “What deal?”

  He looked at me. “The Shinnecock Indian reservation. It’s my deal. I’m buying it.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a deal that benefits everyone. It will release the Shinnecock from four hundred years of poverty and significantly increase land values around here, once I’ve put my finishing touches on it.”

  I said nothing.

  “Why’d I think you would have figured all this out by now.”

  “You hired me to find Amy’s killer.”

  “I already knew who that was. I hired you to stop Frank.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your relationship with Frank isn’t exactly a big secret around town. He was close to fucking up the whole deal. I knew if anyone could bring him down, you could. I thought maybe if you got in his way that’s exactly what would happen. You have nothing to lose, Mac, that’s the beautiful thing about you. That’s what makes you so dangerous. That’s why, in a dogfight between Frank Gannon and you, I’d put my money on you. And, in effect, that’s just what I did.”

  “Why did Frank kill Amy?”

  “The Town hired Concannon to assess the ecological impact of my plans for the land. Environmentalists wanted the deal killed. They’re worried about erosion and coastline construction and bullshit like that. So I put Concannon on my payroll. He was more than eager. When he found the bones, he called me. The next day Frank Gannon appeared at my house. He knew all about my conversation with Concannon. He had put a tap on Concannon’s phone the day the town hired him. He wanted to know what I planned on doing with the information. I told him I had no interest in going to the cops or FBI. Do you think people would be lining up to buy luxury condos on land that had once been full of shallow graves?”

  “So you struck a deal.”

  “We couldn’t do anything till I owned the land. Then we could move the bodies and no one would know. We’d hire a crew to work by hand at night, in secret.”