He said to Lockwood, “You hang it. I can’t reach high enough. Meanwhile, I’ll get these two inside.”
“You sure you can handle them?”
“Crow’s asleep. And fuck you.”
“Wait a minute,” said Lockwood. “Let’s see how asleep.”
At this, Lockwood squeezed between the Pontiac and the van. He opened the right rear door about a foot, which was all the space the van gave it. He reached in with the stapler and found Crow’s ass. He snapped a staple in each of Crow’s cheeks.
Crow never moved. Lockwood said, “He’s still gone. Drag him out on your side. You got room?”
“I got room. I’ll take the girl inside first.”
“Drag him out. I can watch him while I hang.”
“You’ll bring him in?”
“I’ll bring him. Two minutes. Go ahead.”
Now and then, thought Kaplan, Lockwood does a good thing. That move with the stapler was one of them. Kaplan opened the rear left door of the Pontiac. He reached in and seized Crow by one arm. He started pulling.
He said, “Leslie? Push with me. Give me a hand.”
He heard her swallow. She stammered, “Wh…what?”
“The guy’s stuck. Help me here. You like him being on you?”
“He’s drooling on me. Get him off me.”
“So push.”
“Did you mean what you said about not hurting me?”
Kaplan leaned closer. He kept his voice low. “Take my word. Here’s the thing, though. You gotta behave. You gotta do exactly what I tell you.”
“Like…what?”
He reached for a towel that was clipped to Crow’s golf bag. A big one, orange, from the Bengals again. Kaplan yanked it free of its hook and he jammed it between Crow’s mouth and her head.
He said, “I need you to cover your face with that towel. Then I’ll wrap it with some of Crow’s duct tape. Also I have to tape up your hands. After that, I’ll take you inside.”
“Why do you have to cover my face?”
“Because the less you see of me, the better for me. Fair enough? Shut up and indulge me.”
“…Okay.”
“I’ll steer you into a bedroom, but it’s just to the closet. I’m not going to touch you in any bad way. That’s a promise. Are you with me so far?”
“I…I guess.”
Okay, thought Kaplan. So far, this is progress. Now we try to establish some reasonable doubt in case she’s ever called as a witness, God forbid.
He said, “I’m going to leave you because I have to go. After that, you might hear things. This is after I’m gone. What you’ll hear won’t be me because I’m gone by that time. Is that clear in your head? It won’t be me.”
A little klutzy, thought Kaplan, but maybe she’ll buy it. Leslie, however, had concerns of her own. She asked, “You mean you’re leaving me with these two?”
“They’ll be otherwise occupied. They won’t hurt you, believe me. In maybe two hours, I’ll call your cop friend and tell him where he can find you. Before that, however, you must not make a sound. That’s no matter what you hear going on.”
“Arnie…your name’s Arnie?”
“I got lots of names.”
“Can’t you tell me what’s going to happen?”
“Some people are coming. They’re not very nice. You don’t want them to know that you’re here, so be quiet. Myself, I don’t wish to be here when they come.”
“Well, I don’t either, damn it. Take me with you.”
“Leslie…this is my neck I’m trying to save. I’ll help you, but I can’t have you fingering me. This is the best I can offer.”
“And you swear that you didn’t hurt Adam or Claudia?”
“Would I be talking like this if I did?”
“I…guess not.”
“So push. Keep your eyes shut and push.”
Felix Aubrey, taking care not to move the sheer curtains, had been watching through the kitchen’s side window. He’d seen Lockwood step through what was once the garage wall and retrieve some chrome-plated tool from the yard. He called to Briggs in a whisper, “What on earth are they doing?”
Briggs answered, “I don’t know. They’re in there talking. I can’t hear.”
A few seconds later, Briggs said in a hush, “I see Lockwood out front. He’s got this big tarp. I think he’s hanging it over the garage.”
“To what purpose?”
“Hide the cars, I guess. It figures they’re hot.”
And therefore a sensible measure, thought Aubrey, so it must have been Kaplan’s idea. And yet Kaplan, we fear, had allowed Vernon Lockwood to make good his threat against Whistler and the girl. Perhaps he wasn’t able to stop him.
Aubrey asked Briggs, “Any sign of the girl?”
Briggs shrugged with his hands and shook his head.
“Or of Kaplan and Crow?”
Briggs whispered, “Still in the garage. I hear grunting. I heard Lockwood say he’s going to bring Crow.”
“Make no move until all four are inside. Once they are, do not dawdle, Mr. Briggs. Do your work.”
“I hear them. They’re coming. Get back.”
THIRTY SIX
Whistler, in the Taurus, had followed the tank truck as it wound through North Forest beach. He had thumbed Molly’s number on his cell phone. She answered. He told her that they were on their way to the house. He was in no mood to explain how it happened that Claudia was now riding with Carla. Nor did Molly bother asking. Her response was a sigh. She asked him, “What’s that address?”
Having taken it, she said, “And you say they have no vehicles?”
“They’re stranded according to Carla.”
“Adam, stay well back. I’m going to call the police.”
“Don’t do that just yet. Let us get in place first. We can block off both ends of the street.”
“Are you sure you have Carla under control?”
“Carla’s the least of my worries right now. I need to see that Claudia’s kept out of this.”
“Well, I worry about Carla. I know how she is. Carla tries to be non-lethal these days. Did you know that?”
“Non-lethal? With a Calico? How does one manage that?”
“She might try not to kill them, but she will shoot to maim. That Calico is better than a chain saw. You have no idea of the mess she can make. Let me call the police and be done with it.”
“Hold off until I can scout out that house. I’d like to get Leslie out first if I can. Let me see how close I can get.”
“Adam…you are not to put yourself at risk either. There’s more at stake here than you know.”
“You’ll explain that to me, won’t you? One of these days?”
“Your father will explain it when he gets here this evening.”
An exasperated growl. “We’re almost there, Molly.”
“Then you’re close enough. I’m calling the police.”
“No, don’t. I need ten minutes.”
“I’m calling right now. Goodbye, Adam.”
Whistler put the phone aside and stepped on the gas. He was already on Lagoon Road. He pulled around and in front of the Texaco truck and signaled for it to pull over. He got out and told Carla what Molly had said. He repeated that Carla was to cover, nothing more. She was to stop this truck a full hundred yards short of the house they were in.
She pointed. “That’s it. Two blocks up on your left. The one just this side of that privacy fence.”
He looked and nodded. He said, “I’ll take that end. The fence is good cover. It might let me get close enough to look in some windows. I’ll try to see where they’re holding Leslie.”
Carla said, “Say you spot her. Then what? You go in?”
“No, I don’t. You don’t either. We both wait for the police.”
“Adam…”
“No, Carla. Look into my eyes. Do I look like I’m playing games with you now?”
“I’m not either.”
“Tha
t’s good because if you should get Claudia hurt, you’ll never hurt anyone else.”
“Adam,” said Claudia, “there was no need to say that.”
Whistler ignored her. His eyes bored into Carla’s. He said, “The same goes for Leslie if you get her killed. Do you hear what I’m telling you, Carla?”
Carla smiled at him. “I hear you. Now will you lighten up? Not that I wouldn’t like to see what you’ve got, but you won’t have to fight me on this one.”
“That’s a promise?”
“It’s a promise. Now get down there.”
Aubrey opened the kitchen door just a crack as two figures came into view. The first thing he saw was the gaudily striped jacket and the flat straw hat worn askew. No mistaking that one; it was Kaplan. And he saw that Kaplan was leading the girl. The girl could only be Whistler’s friend, Claudia.
Her hands appeared to be bound behind her back. Her head was covered by what looked to be a towel held in place by a wrapping of tape. She was bound and blindfolded, but apparently not gagged. He heard Kaplan telling her to be quiet.
It was only the lack of a gag across her mouth that kept Aubrey from opening the door. He wanted to let Kaplan know that they’d arrived, but his sudden appearance might cause her to cry out. The last thing he needed was for Lockwood to hear a shout of “Who’s that?” from outside.
“Mr. Aubrey,” Robert whispered, his breath at Aubrey’s ear, “where is he going with her?”
Aubrey pushed him away. He mouthed, “Shush.”
But Robert persisted. “Mr. Aubrey, he’s taking her to a bedroom. All those rooms where he’s going are bedrooms.”
“He’s got to put her somewhere. Be still.”
“If he means to take his pleasure with her, we cannot allow it, Mr. Aubrey.”
“Robert…you were told not to speak or to think. He has no such intention. Be quiet.”
Aubrey chanced a better look. He opened the door slightly. He saw that they indeed had gone into a bedroom. He heard sounds coming from it. They were rustling, scraping sounds. It seemed the sort of noise that one makes in a closet, sliding hangers of clothing out of the way. Robert was beginning to breathe heavily.
Robert said, “That’s a bed. The springs of a bed.”
“No, it isn’t. All you’re hearing is clothing.”
“Clothing? Do you mean he’s removing her clothing?”
“He is not. And for the last time, shut up.”
“He’s assaulting that woman,” Robert said through his teeth. “You said that you wouldn’t permit it.”
“Must I shoot you?”
“I will stop it,” hissed Robert. “I’ll be quick. I’ll snap his neck.”
Before Aubrey could stop him, he had pushed through the door. Aubrey reached to snatch Robert’s collar. He missed. Briggs took a step from his place of concealment, frantically waving his arms and then pointing. He mouthed the words, “Lockwood. He’s coming.”
In that instant, the door from the gagrage was thrown open. Aubrey heard a deep-throated grunt from outside. The cause of the grunt was immediately apparent. Lockwood was pulling a body behind him, backing his way through the door. But the body was a live one. It had started to squirm. Aubrey saw that it was Joshua Crow.
Lockwood called, “Hey, Arnie. Come give me a hand.”
Crow became more aware of what was happening to him. He felt for the hands that were dragging him. Flailing, he raked Lockwood’s wrists with his fingernails. Lockwood cursed and called, “Forget it. I got him.”
He snaked his left forearm under Joshua Crow’s jaw, seizing him in its crook. He stood up, lifting Crow. Crow was choking and kicking. Lockwood’s arm had formed a vise. He squeezed harder. He said to Crow, “I’m really sick of you, pal. You’re dying now. You feel yourself dying?”
Aubrey saw that Robert had been frozen in place a few feet from the door to the bedroom. Lockwood still hadn’t seen him. His back was turned to him. Now Robert was lowering himself to a crouch, the better to reach the ankle holster that he wore. He seemed to be descending an inch at a time. Aubrey could no longer stand it. He heard himself shouting, “Well, shoot him, you dolt.”
Robert unsnapped his pistol. Lockwood spun at both sounds. Crow’s dangling, kicking body shielded his own as Lockwood groped for the gun in his belt. Lockwood recognized Robert. “Where the fuck did you come from? Did I just hear Aubrey? Was that Aubrey?”
Arnold Kaplan, in the bedroom, was as startled as Lockwood. He had seated Leslie on the floor of the closet. He had quickly covered her mouth with his hand. He whispered, “Like I told you. Bad people. Sit tight.” But damn it, he thought, now she’s heard Aubrey’s name. He might not be able to save her.
Robert hadn’t fired. He had no clear shot. Aubrey called, “Robert? Do it now. Shoot them both,” to which Briggs responded, “No, he’s mine.”
Briggs had emerged, his gun aimed at Lockwood’s head, his free hand touching his paper-like face. He said, “See this? You did this to me. They got me because you left me, you shit.”
Lockwood had yet to tear his own weapon free. The big silencer was stuck in his belt. Briggs said, “What’s that? You got a problem there, Vern? Let me give you a hand. I’ll shoot it loose.”
And Briggs did. He lowered his sights and he fired. Lockwood, in that instant, had hurled himself backward. The muzzle blast was deafening, but the bullet missed its mark. Instead, it struck Crow in the buttocks. Crow squealed and bucked. Lockwood struggled to hold him. Lockwood managed to back up into the garage where at last he got the Glock free. He could no longer see Briggs, but he could hear Briggs moving toward him. He had a clear view of Robert who was bobbing and weaving, still trying to get a clear shot. He heard Aubrey again shouting, “Shoot them both. Shoot.”
Lockwood’s best shot was at Robert, couldn’t miss him at this range. But enraged by Felix Aubrey’s betrayal, he swung the silenced barrel toward the door to the kitchen. He snarled, “You little faggot, you’re dead,” and squeezed the trigger. He added the word “Fuck” when nothing happened.
Suddenly there was Briggs. Briggs was filling the doorway, his pistol squarely aimed at the part of Lockwood’s face that was visible behind that of Crow. Briggs asked, “What did you do? Forget to chamber a round? Go ahead. Slap one in there. I’ll wait.”
Aubrey gasped, “Are you out of your mind? Get this done.” He had stayed out of sight in the kitchen.
Briggs called back, “No, you see…he needs two hands to do that. This prick’s got himself in a quandary here. He’s got to let go of Crow or he can’t work the slide. That’s unless he can work it with his teeth.”
“Then please end it,” called Aubrey. “Do it now.”
“In a minute,” answered Briggs. “Don’t forget I’m entitled. Let’s all take a little time to smell the roses.”
Aubrey called, “Robert? You do it. Do it now.”
Briggs raised a hand to Robert without turning his head. He said, “No, you don’t. You stay back.”
Aubrey called, “Mr. Kaplan, why are you not out here?”
Briggs said, “Hear that, Vern? A good question, don’t you think? You’ve been standing here waiting for your guy to save your ass. I got news. He’s with us. He’s not your guy.”
Robert said, “I’ll go see what he’s doing with that woman.”
Aubrey hissed, “Don’t you move. Don’t you lower your weapon.”
Briggs agreed. He said, “Yeah, stay. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing. We can’t leave her either. Even Vernon knows that.” He added, “Mr. Aubrey? Why don’t you come out here? It’s worth it to see the look on Vern’s face. Besides, you got questions to ask, am I right?”
“You say he’s under control?”
“No, he’s thoroughly pissed.”
“Under your control, you idiot.”
“Yeah, come look. I got him cold. Right now, old Vern is trying to think. You can tell because he’s pushing at his lips with his tongue. Right now, he’s deciding
what to do with the loony. Drop him, try to run, try to throw him, or what? Except he knows that if he twitches, he gets my whole clip, the first half of which goes through Mr. Crow here.”
Aubrey called, “Then ask him what he’d done to Adam Whistler. Ask the damned fool…never mind…I’ll ask Kaplan. Shoot him, Mr. Briggs. Shoot him now.”
Briggs fired, but he shot to hurt, not to kill. He aimed to the right of Crow’s swollen face. He aimed at Lockwood’s left elbow. Lockwood twisted away; he tried to swing Crow between them. The bullet missed the elbow, but it creased Lockwood’s arm. The muzzle blast caused another ringing in the ears of everyone there except Aubrey. The kitchen door had shielded Aubrey’s ears.
It was only Aubrey, therefore, who heard the sound that was coming from the street and was building. He heard the roar of an engine, a powerful engine, and he heard the grinding sound of gears trying to mesh. He heard the groaning thump that large vehicles make when their wheels go over a curb. Aubrey pushed the door open to see what it was. He saw nothing because the front room’s drapes had been drawn, but the sound almost seemed right on top of him.
He did see Briggs with his pistol still extended toward the door that led out to the garage. He caught a glimpse of Lockwood, Lockwood backing away, still desperately clinging to Crow. He was conscious of Robert, standing frozen in place, his face turned toward the front of the house. Robert was, only then, becoming aware of the sound that was building from outside the house. The house itself was starting to vibrate. In that instant, the wall of the front room exploded. The whole row of draperies and the windows behind them seemed to rise up and surge toward where Robert was standing. They enveloped him. They swathed him in fabric and glass. He seemed to melt under their weight.
But it wasn’t the weight of the draperies alone. The draperies were followed by a great silver mass that thundered through the front wall behind them. It had a rounded top, a red star on its side. Aubrey realized, of course, that he was looking at a truck, but his brain had not yet allowed him to believe that a truck could be driving through the house. He saw something else red in the cab of the truck. It was hair. On the driver. Red hair.
He saw a burst of flame come from the driver’s side window and he heard a jackhammer’s roar. He saw that Briggs had spun to confront this hellish thing, but his reaction had been far too late. For an instant, Briggs rose up. He seemed to be floating. He’d been standing on his feet, but they’d been pulled out from under him. His legs, in that instant, were as high as his head. Briggs settled to the floor, it seemed, in slow motion. He had dropped his gun. He was grasping his knees. He was trying to hold them together. He was screaming.
Whistler's Angel (The Bannerman Series) Page 36
