by Bill Bernico
“Don’t feel so bad,” Elliott said. “He’s got four of my Washingtons, too.” Elliott turned to Alvin. “So what are you going to do with your seven dollars?”
Alvin folded the bills and stuffed them into his pocket, rising from his chair. He caught a glint of something in the night through the kitchen window and jumped at Elliott, pulling him to the floor as the window shattered. A slug tore into the far wall, embedding itself into a mounted deer head on the wall. Elliott instinctively pulled the .38 out from under his arm and back-pedaled against the cabin wall.
“Matt,” Elliott said. “You all right?”
Matt sat plastered against the same wall and nodded. “I’m okay, Dad.” He looked at Alvin. “What about you?”
Alvin nodded but said nothing.
Elliott crawled across the floor toward the back of the cabin. As he passed Matt, who also had his .38 out, he whispered, “Keep an eye on the front door. I’m going to see if I can see anything out that back window.”
“Watch yourself, Dad,” Matt said.
Elliott crawled to the rear window and slowly raised his head alongside the window frame, sneaking a peek outside. He could see two men trying to flank the cabin. Elliott motioned toward the front door with the barrel of his gun. Matt nodded and crawled to the front door.
Alvin’s face had gone blank again but there was nothing Elliott could do to help him right now. Matt eased the front door open an inch and peered outside a few inches higher than floor level. He saw one of the men trying to take cover behind a pine tree. The trunk wasn’t wide enough to hide his body. Matt pulled the door open another inch and took careful aim at the exposed part of the man behind the tree and fired. He heard someone yell and saw the man fall to the ground, clutching at his calf.
“I hit one of them,” Matt said to Elliott.
“Close that door,” Elliott yelled back. “And stay down.” He eased his head up again and took another quick look outside. The second man was now running toward his fallen partner. Elliott sprung to his feet and ran for the front door. Matt slid away from the door as Elliott burst through it, firing over the heads of the two men crouched behind the pine tree.
“Drop your guns,” Elliott yelled, aiming at the second man, who was trying to help the first man to his feet.
Both men dropped their guns and raised their hands. As soon as the second man raised his hands, the wounded man fell to the ground again, moaning and grabbing his leg. Matt hurried outside and stood next to Elliott, his own gun trained on the men now.
Elliott turned to Matt. “Keep ‘em covered. I’ll take their guns.” Elliott holstered his .38 and picked up the two handguns from the forest floor, stuffing them into his waistband and frisking both men for more weapons. He didn’t find any other guns and stepped back again. He pulled his .38 out again and pointed it at the second man.
“Carefully pull your wallet out and toss it over to me,” Elliott said and then pointed at the fallen man. “His, too.”
The second man pulled his wallet out and threw it at Elliott’s feet. He fished the wounded man’s wallet out and threw that next to his. Elliott picked up both wallets and fished out two driver’s licenses. “Paul Stoffer,” he said, looking at the wounded man. Elliott pocketed the wallet and opened the other one. “William Stoffer.” He looked at William and then gestured toward Paul. “Your brother?”
William nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Look, Paul needs a doctor.”
Elliott looked down at Paul. “He’ll live—for now.”
“What do you mean?” William said.
“I mean they’ll patch him up good enough for transport to prison,” Elliott said. “And you know how they hate to break up families. Well, you can join him.”
“Now hold on a minute,” William said. “We didn’t hurt anyone. We were just supposed to throw a scare into Haley, that’s all.”
Elliott’s eyes furrowed. “Who the hell is Haley?”
“I am,” Alvin said, walking up behind Elliott. “Peter Haley. That’s my real name. No doubt Otto Stein sent these two to try to convince me to keep my mouth shut. Well, this little display had just the opposite effect on me. I’m going to sing like a canary when I get to court Monday morning.”
Elliott turned to Alvin. “Peter Haley?” he said.
Haley nodded. “Sounds a lot better than Alvin,” he said. “I’ll be glad not to have to hear you call me that anymore.”
Elliott turned to the Stoffer Brothers. “All right,” he said, “How’d you find us up here? Who told you where we’d be?”
The Stoffer Brothers remained silent. Haley stepped over to where Paul Stoffer lay on the ground and stepped on his wounded leg. “Come on, spill it. How’d you find us?”
Elliott pulled Haley off the wounded man’s leg. “Not a good idea,” he told Haley. “We don’t want to give them any leverage when they get to court.” Elliott tapped Paul Stoffer on the top of his head with the barrel of his gun and said, “Come on, Paul, talk.”
Paul released the grip he had on his wounded leg long enough to rub the small lump on his head. Elliott raised his gun again and Paul held his hand out. “No more,” he said. “I’ll talk.” He turned to Haley. “You’re right. Stein sent us up here.”
“And you’ll say as much in court Monday morning?” Elliott said, looking at the two men.
The Stoffer Brothers looked at each other and nodded slightly. “Yeah,” William said. “We didn’t bargain for any of this. Like I said, we were just supposed to put a scar into Haley.”
Elliott turned to William. “Pick him up,” he said, gesturing to the man’s wounded brother. “Bring him into the cabin.” Elliott and Matt kept their guns trained on the brothers all the way back to the front door. Elliott turned to Matt. “Keep ‘em covered while I call this in.”
Matt gestured toward the sofa and the brothers sat while Elliott pulled his SIM card out of his shirt pocket and inserted it back into his cell phone. He dialed Lieutenant Anderson’s personal number and got him right away, explaining their situation.
“Do you need an ambulance?” Eric said.
“It’s not that serious,” Elliott explained. “We can patch this clown up good enough to bring him in ourselves. If we leave right away, we could probably be at the hospital by nine or so. You want to meet us there? I’ll call you again as we get closer.”
“I’ll be there,” Eric said. “Don’t take any chances with those two. I’ll put a pickup order out for Stein and keep him out of your hair. I’m sure we can come up with some charge that’ll keep him in our custody until Monday morning. I’ll see you around nine at the emergency entrance.”
Elliott hung up and pocketed his phone again. He turned to Matt and Haley. “Let’s get packed. We’re going home.”
It didn’t take much time to put their belongings back in the trunk since they hadn’t even unpacked anything yet. Elliott slid beneath the wheel and Haley slid into the passenger’s seat. The Stoffer Brothers took their places in the back seat with Matt next to them, his gun trained on them all the way back to Hollywood.
Eric was waiting at the emergency entrance to the hospital when Elliott pulled up. Matt eased himself out of the back seat and turned the brothers over to a couple of uniformed patrolmen who had come with Eric. They sat Paul Stoffer in a wheelchair and wheeled him inside, while Eric cuffed William Stoffer and placed him in the back seat of his cruiser.
“Any idea how they found you up there?” Eric said.
Elliott shook his head. “We certainly didn’t tell anyone where we were going,” he said. “Matt got a call when we got there, but I didn’t even let him answer it before I yanked out his SIM card. I took mine out, too, so no one could trace us with the GPS system in the phones.”
“You took the SIM cards out when you got there?” Eric said.
Elliott nodded. “Yes.”
“And were both of your phones on all the way up to the cabin?” Eric asked.
Elliott rolled his eyes. “How stupid ca
n I get? Yes, they were on and probably transmitting all the way there. You think Stein had some inside information about us and our destination?”
Eric held up two palms. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “No one in my department knew anything about this arrangement. But you can bet we’ll be doing a thorough investigation into this whole mess.”
Elliott gestured toward Peter Haley. “And what happens to Haley between now and Monday?”
“Haley?” Eric said.
“Come on, Eric,” Elliott said. “Alvin told us his real name.” He thought for a moment and added, “Did anyone else know about the phony name you gave him?”
Eric shook his head. “I made it up on the spot and didn’t tell anyone.”
The two men turned to Haley. “Did you mention this phony name to anyone?”
“How could I?” Haley said. “You just said you made it up on the spot when Elliott picked me up in the garage and I haven’t seen anyone else since then.”
Eric gave me a knowing look. “The garage,” he said. “We have surveillance camera all throughout the structure. Someone could have picked up the transmission with some sort of wireless device.”
“If that’s the case, you may never find out,” Elliott said. “So, what’s the answer on what happens to Haley between now and Monday?”
Eric looked at Haley. “How would you feel about spending two nights in lockup?”
Haley’s eyes said it all without him having to speak.
“I didn’t think so,” Eric said. “I guess you can come home with me, or we can assign a couple of officers to watch over you at a hotel here in town.”
“Didn’t you ever see Steve McQueen in Bullitt?” Haley said. “That didn’t work out so well for Frank Ross, now did it?”
Eric had to agree that the character Steve McQueen was supposed to bodyguard didn’t fare so well after the hit men found him in that San Francisco hotel room. “Then it looks like you’re coming home with me, doesn’t it?”
“Then I suppose that means you won’t be needing me or Matt any more this weekend,” Elliott said. “If so, I think we’ll be heading home.”
Eric shook my hand and then Matt’s. “Thanks for your help anyway,” he said.
Matt and I returned to our car, unloaded Haley’s luggage and drove away from the hospital. They’d gone just a few blocks when Elliott stopped for a red light and turned to his son. “You all right, Matt?”
Matt looked puzzled. “Sure. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re all right physically,” Elliott said. “I was wondering more about how you felt about having to shoot someone. You all right with that?”
Matt thought about it for a moment and answered, “I didn’t think much about it as it was happening, but now that I’ve had a little time to think about it, it feels strange. Not wrong, but strange, you know?”
“And?”
“And I’m not sure how’d I’d feel if I’d killed that guy,” Matt explained. “This is the first time I’ve even fired my gun on the job. It’s a lot different than the firing range.”
“I know,” Elliott said.
“Did you ever have to shoot someone, Dad?” Matt said.
Elliott took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I have.”
“And how’d you feel about that?”
“It bothered me for a while,” Elliott explained, “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a necessary part of the job. If I hadn’t shot that guy, it might be me who was killed.”
“You killed the guy you shot?” Matt said, amazed.
“I did,” Elliott admitted. “And I didn’t feel too good about for a long time, either.”
“How’d you deal with it?”
Elliott paused for a few seconds and then said, “I went to see someone about it. A psychiatrist, as a matter of fact. The review board that issues and renews my P.I. license insisted that I see Dr. Goldman before they’d renew my license.”
“Dr. Goldman?” Matt said. “In the office above ours? That Dr. Goldman?”
“She’s the one,” Elliott said. “We talked it all out in three sessions and she signed off on my license and that was that.”
“How long ago was that?” Matt said.
The light turned green and Elliott proceeded toward home. “It happened when you were still in high school.”
“And you never said anything about it?” Matt asked. “Does Mom know?”
“Of course she knows,” Elliott said. “We talk about everything. She’s the one person who would understand a situation like that.”
“Are you telling me that Mom shot someone?” Matt said, his mouth hanging open now.
“I’m just saying that since she was in this business alongside me for all those years, that she’d understand how I felt and what I went through,” Elliott explained.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Matt persisted. “Did Mom ever shoot anyone?”
“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Elliott said and then dropped the subject. “So, now that you have the rest of the weekend free, are you going to see Chris?”
Matt snapped his fingers. “I knew there was something I was going to do when I got back.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open, dialing Chris’s number. He lifted the phone to his ear and then pulled it away again, looking at the blank screen. “It’s dead,” he said.
Elliott took the phone from Matt, opened the back panel and then pulled Matt’s SIM card from his other pocket, inserting it, closing the cover and handing it back to Matt. “There,” he said. “Try that.”
Matt rolled his eyes and then dialed again. This time the screen displayed the message that it was dialing and he held the phone back to his ear. When Chris answered, Matt turned his head away from Elliott and spoke in a low voice. The conversation lasted just thirty seconds before Matt closed the phone and turned back toward his father. “We’re on for tonight,” he said. “So, if you will just drop me at home, I can get cleaned up and dressed.”
“Have you two set a date yet?” Elliott said.
“Dad,” Matt said. “You’ve already asked me that once. You seem to be more anxious for this than I am.”
“I guess I am,” Elliott said. “Forget I asked. You two will figure it out yourselves.”
A few minutes later Elliott pulled up to the curb in front of Matt apartment and popped the trunk release. Matt retrieved his luggage, closed the trunk and stepped over to the driver’s side window. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Matt said. “Give Mom a hug for me when you see her.”
Elliott agreed that he would and pulled away, leaving matt and his luggage at the curb. Matt dropped his bags in the living room and stripped out of the clothes he’d worn to the cabin. He shaved and showered and redressed in better clothes, leaving the unpacking of his bags until he returned home.
Chris was waiting for him when he pulled up in front of her house and ran to the car to meet him. Matt leaned over and opened her door and she slid in next to him, kissing him long and hard before looking back at him and adding, “Now, suppose you tell me why you’re back two days early.”
Monday morning at the Anderson house found Eric up and dressed by eight-thirty. He called in to his office to let his secretary know that he’d be going to the courthouse directly from home and not to expect him in until court had recessed. Eric knocked on his guest bedroom door and it opened immediately. Peter Haley was already dressed and shaved and ready to tell the court about his ordeal at the hands of Otto Stein. “How’d you sleep, Peter?” Eric said.
“Very well, thank you,” Haley replied.
“Come on into the kitchen and have some breakfast,” Eric offered. “You don’t want to go to court with a rumbling stomach.”
The two men finished breakfast and sat in the living room, letting their food digest before leaving for court. Eric drove Haley to the underground garage beneath the courthouse and walked him to the elevator. They rode it to the mai
n level and stepped out. The courtroom was just down the hall. The two men walked in and Eric took his seat behind the prosecutor’s table while Haley sat at that table with William Knight, the District Attorney. The judge had not yet entered the courtroom.
Across from him at the defendant’s table sat Otto Stein and his lawyer, a man named Roy Porter. He was a fat man who appeared to have no neck at all. His head looked like it sat directly on his shoulders and Eric wondered how the man could even manage to breath with that tie around his neck. Stein looked over at Haley and glared at him.
Sitting two rows behind Stein Eric could make out two other men who seemed to be taking an inordinate interest in Peter Haley. They both caught Haley’s eye and stared at him, saying more with their eyes than most people do by speaking. One of the men leaned forward an inch or so, but that was all it took for his jacket to open, revealing his underarm holster.
Eric rose from his seat and walked back toward the double doors to the courtroom. He whispered something into the ear of the policemen standing there and the two of them walked back up the aisle. They stopped at the second row and Eric pointed his finger at the two men and then crooked one finger, beckoning them to come to him. The man closest to Eric pointed to himself with a question on his face and Eric nodded. The second man did the same and got a similar nod. The two men squeezed past several other people in that row and walked back up the aisle with Eric and the policemen out into the hall.
Eric and the policeman both drew their weapons and pointed them at the two men. “Keep your hands up,” Eric warned as the policeman holstered his .38 and reached into the jacket of the first man, pulling out a .45 automatic.
“I’ve got a permit for that,” the man complained.
“Not inside a courthouse, you don’t,” Eric barked.
The cop reached for the second man’s jacket but the man pulled away and quickly reached inside his coat. Before he could draw his weapon, Eric cocked his revolver and stuck it in the man’s face. “I wouldn’t,” Eric said. The man removed his hand and held it up while the cop retrieved the gun from his underarm holster. Eric turned to the cop. “Call for some backup. I’ll watch these two.”
