Under Cover

by Caroline Crane

“The one from Japan, stupid!”

  “He’s not a lawyer and he’s not from Japan.”

  “Then what the hell—”

  “He’s my father.”

  Chapter Ten

  If my tiny prison had any room to fall off the desk chair, I would have. As it was, I sat there trying to breathe.

  I should have guessed. I almost did, but had to reject the idea. I was so sure somebody would have told me if I had a brother. It was possible Grandma really didn’t know. But Mom?

  Maybe she didn’t, either. Because maybe Dad didn’t tell her. Liam couldn’t have been much older than me. Was Dad married to Mrs. Mulvaney and then Mom in quick succession? Or was he not married to Mrs. Mulvaney and maybe not to Mom either, even if Grandma insisted he was?

  Maybe what Liam said wasn’t true. But it made sense, Dad coming all this way.

  The capo said, “You’re kidding, right?”

  Liam mumbled something.

  Capo again: “What’d you tell him? It better be nothing. You-are-going-to-keep-your-mouth-shut, understand?”

  I could tell from the way he said it that his teeth were clenched. I pictured his hand clutching Liam’s jaw, his fingers splayed and gripping, like an octopus. Funny, I didn’t even know what he looked like, but just from the sound of him, I saw his hand.

  Liam made choking noises. Maybe the hand was around his throat.

  My stuffy little room had a telephone. I could call 911.

  No, I couldn’t. The goons would hear me. They would rush in and kill me. The capo would con the police and Liam would keep his mouth shut as he was ordered to do.

  My brother. I still couldn’t believe it. I always wanted an older brother. Never thought I’d have one. Now that I did, he was in trouble. The things they said about the car pretty much confirmed my suspicion that it had to do with the high school murder.

  “Remember that,” said the capo. “You gonna remember?” I heard a thump, like a fist.

  Now would they leave?

  What if I had to go to the bathroom? I didn’t yet, but if I thought about it, I would have to. I tried not to think about it.

  A scream made me jump. They were hurting him. I reached for the telephone.

  “Keep that in mind,” said the capo. And then the screen door slammed.

  Had they all gone? Dragging Liam with them? Or did he go voluntarily? I felt like trying to peek but I didn’t dare.

  I looked out the tiny window. All I saw was a side yard and the house next door. It was yellow.

  The window was too small for escape. I’d have gotten stuck.

  I panicked at a sound just outside my door. It burst open. I jumped a mile.

  It was Liam, alone, his face a mixture of anger and pain.

  “Get out of here,” he growled.

  He was the one who put me there, but I didn’t dare argue.

  I was too slow getting up. He jerked my arm and pulled me.

  Even after hauling me to my feet, he wouldn’t let go. “You,” he said, pointing a finger almost in my eye, “you had better keep your mouth shut. You had better forget everything that happened here and don’t come back. You talk to anybody about this and you’re dead. Got that?”

  I got it. “Just tell my dad—” That gave me a funny feeling. It was his dad, too. “Tell my dad I brought his camera, okay?” I showed it to him on the desk.

  “Will you get the fuck out of here?”

  “Gladly,” I said.

  He marched me to the front door. There we stopped while he opened the door a crack and looked out.

  All was not well.

  Swiftly and silently he closed the door, locked it, and dragged me back the way we had come.

  He opened a door opposite the little office. It was dark. A basement.

  “Get in there.” He gave me a push, almost knocking me down the stairs. They were steep, the kind that had no backs. It did have a rail. I grabbed it and stepped into darkness.

  “Get down there.” He said it with another push.

  I clung to the railing. “I can’t see!”

  “Move!” He closed the door. Now it was pitch dark.

  But not entirely. The basement had a couple of dusty windows that let in some deep, gray light.

  I took another step. He was right behind me, nudging me with his knee. I crept down, glad I had rubber soles. He didn’t have to tell me to keep quiet.

  When we reached the concrete floor, he stopped and looked around. There wasn’t anything to see except a pile of shapes that might have been old furniture. He pulled me down beside him on the bottom step. We were out of range from the dusty windows.

  I got up my nerve to whisper, “What was that all about?”

  “Shut up!”

  I heard banging. And shouts. “Hey, dude! Open up!”

  His body tensed. I could feel it, right next to me.

  More banging. “We know you’re there.”

  I leaned into his ear and whispered again. “Do we have to stay here forever?”

  His mother or my dad would show up. Did they know about those goons? Were they as afraid of them as Liam was?

  I remembered the locked screen door and Mrs. Mulvaney’s explanation of “a little trouble.”

  “This is stupid,” I said.

  “Shut up.”

  I thought of his scream. I wondered if the goons actually carried weapons.

  His breathing came hard and loud. I leaned in again and whispered, “Is it true that Jules Penny is your dad? I heard you tell them that.”

  He didn’t answer. I said, “It must be true. He came all the way from Borneo. If he is, that means you’re my brother.”

  He hesitated a moment, then growled, “So what?”

  “So—well—we’re family. How come nobody told me?”

  He said, “I didn’t know about you, either.”

  “I kept asking who Liam was. And Hey Buddy, and no one would tell me. What was so secret that they wouldn’t talk?”

  He glared down at the floor. I could barely see him in the gloom, but I knew he was glaring.

  “I’m not much to be proud of,” he admitted. “Especially now. I’m just waiting for the police to arrest me and then my name will be all over. Even though I—never mind.”

  I dropped my head into my hands, shutting out the dark basement. Okay, so Grandma didn’t know, and maybe Mom. But my dad certainly did.

  The banging started again. That time it came from near the windows. “Hey, Penny! Open up!”

  He muttered something that sounded like “Christ Almighty.”

  “You did lock it, didn’t you?” I said.

  “You think that’s going to stop them?”

  I pictured them setting fire to the house with us in it. “Who are they?”

  “Some people. Friends.”

  “Friends? Of yours?”

  He didn’t answer.

  I took a guess. “Of Johnny Kinsser?”

  “Why don’t you mind your own fucking business?”

  I tried to keep my temper. “I seem be in the middle of something and I would like to know what I’m in the middle of.”

  “If you’d stayed away, you wouldn’t be in the middle.”

  “I was only bringing back my dad’s camera. How was I supposed to know?”

  I’d had an ulterior motive in bringing it. But this was more than I bargained for.

  He took a few deep breaths. “I had nothing to do with what happened. I didn’t even know until it happened. They all knew. They bolted and left me there.”

  “I’ll bet you didn’t tell that to the police.”

  “Are you crazy? You want me to end up like Johnny?” He gave a low moan. “It’s going to happen, anyway.”

  “But, why did Johnny end up like that? What did he do?”

  More deep breaths. “He hung out with us. With them. With us. He was a pest. Aus couldn’t stand him.”

  “What about you?”

  “I knew they didn’t like him. But I wasn�
��t expecting that.”

  “So, why did he hang out if they didn’t like him?”

  “I said I knew they didn’t. He was too thick-skinned to catch on.”

  “You don’t kill somebody for being a pest. Unless you’re crazy, or criminal-minded. So why’d you do it?”

  He shook his head. I felt it more than saw it in the dark. “Not me,” he croaked. “I didn’t see it coming.”

  “Then who?”

  “You don’t have to know.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’d snitch. Then I’m dead meat. And you, too.”

  “Who says I will?”

  “Better if you don’t know. The less people who know, the better.”

  “How can you live like this if you don’t get the police in on it? They’ll help you. That’s what they’re for.”

  “Bullshit. Leave it alone, will you? The police know all about it. They think I did it. Just leave it there.”

  “I don’t believe this. You say you didn’t kill him? Somebody did. You want to go to prison for somebody else?”

  He rested his chin on his knees and barely murmured, “Better prison than dead.”

  “People get killed in prison,” I reminded him. “There you are with a bunch of criminals. They kill each other.”

  No response.

  I asked, “Where were you when it happened?”

  “We were all in my car.” His voice dropped almost to nothing.

  They were still out there. If I leaned forward I could just see one of the windows. I saw a pair of high-top sneakers.

  Again I spoke into Liam’s ear. “Where’s your family? What time are they coming?”

  He jumped. “Oh God!”

  “Would they do anything, those goons?”

  “What time is it now?” he asked.

  “I can’t see my watch. And I have to get the car back home.”

  So Grandma could play bingo. If Grandma could see me now…

  “To hell with the car,” he said.

  “It’s my grandmother’s.” I had an idea. “Maybe she’ll call the police to come and look for me.”

  That alarmed him. “She knows you’re here?”

  “I’m sure she can figure it out.”

  He groaned.

  My brother. I still couldn’t believe it. This was my brother. I actually had one.

  He said he’d had nothing to do with the murder. Didn’t know it was planned. Of course he’d say that. But I remembered my logistics question.

  “Okay,” I tried. “Tell me what happened. If it was your car, you must have been in the driver’s seat. Is that right?”

  He nodded. I went on.

  “They said Johnny was in the front, too. How could you garrote somebody sitting right next to you? Especially with a coat hanger.”

  A shudder went through him. “I didn’t! I told you I didn’t.”

  “Convince me. Who else was there?”

  “None of your business.”

  “It is my business. I’m stuck here because of it. All I wanted was to give Dad his camera. So out with it. Who else was there and where were they?”

  Being elbow to elbow, I could feel him thinking. Figuring he might as well break his code of silence.

  “All of us. Me and Johnny and Aus—”

  “Who’s Oss?”

  “He’s sort of—sort of—”

  “The capo? With the loud voice? Who else?”

  “Sam McCallum. Freddie Gravitz. You better not go blabbing about this, understand? No police. No grandmother.”

  “I won’t. I only want to know for myself.” He was right about Grandma. She did have a big mouth sometimes. “You and Johnny were in the front, the others in back?”

  “It’s the only place they could be,” he snapped. “Aus was right behind Johnny.”

  I began to get the picture. “So then what? A fight started?”

  “There wasn’t any fight. We prayed.”

  “You what?”

  “I said we prayed.” His voice rose in exasperation. He realized that and dropped to a whisper. “Aus said we should pray.”

  “Whatever for? You’re sitting there in the park—”

  “He said it was a spiritual moment. I thought he meant the moon path on the river. They all knew what was going down except me and Johnny.”

  “So you say. Did he lead the prayer? Did he make it up?”

  “It was Hail Mary.”

  “Are you Catholic?”

  “No, but I know how it goes. We got to the end, ‘Pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death.’ Right then, when he said ‘death,’ Aus jumped forward, Johnny fell back and grabbed at his neck. I tried to get out of the way. Johnny was kicking and I could feel the seat move where Aus braced his feet. Then Johnny fell against me. Aus said to check his pulse but I couldn’t because he was on top of me. So Aus did, and then he said ‘Bail!’ and the three of them jumped out and ran away.”

  I could almost see it happening. I almost felt sorry for Liam. My brother.

  “What did you do then?” I asked.

  “I didn’t know what to do. I checked Johnny’s breathing and I knew he was dead. Everything—it was all so—quiet. Then my head cleared some and I thought I better get out of there like the rest of them. I walked all the way home.”

  “You left your car? With him in it?”

  “What else could I do?”

  “You could and should have driven straight to the police.”

  “I already told you! You don’t get it, do you?”

  “It would have looked better than doing nothing. I’m not surprised they think you’re guilty. In fact, you are guilty. You’re an accessory after the fact.”

  “I had nothing to do with it!”

  “I said after the fact. You saw a murder happen and you didn’t report it. You’re helping this Oss person get away with murder and that’s being an accessory after the fact.”

  He pondered that for a few seconds. “You want to get me killed, don’t you?” Then in a deeper growl, “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”

  “If you give the police all those details, they just might believe you. They’ll be on your side. They won’t hurt you.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” he said. “Austen will.”

  “Who’s Austen?”

  “Austen Storm.”

  “The one you call Oss? The capo?”

  Austen Storm.

  “The one who killed Johnny,” I said. “And you’re letting him get away with it. Did you know Johnny was his mother’s only child? How do you think she feels? And it was all for no reason.”

  Silence.

  I pushed on. “You don’t care, do you? All you guys care about is your own stupid selves. You’re a bunch of psychopaths, do you know that?”

  Still silence, but I was on a roll. “Psychopaths have no regard for human life. Or any life, except their own. Johnny would have had a whole lifetime and you snuffed it out. What did he do to deserve that?”

  Liam shook his head. From what I could see, his eyes looked sparkly. Some of the sparkle rolled down his cheek.

  “Are you crying?”

  Stupid, tactless me.

  Angrily he wiped away the tear. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t care what he did. He got on their nerves, always goofing around. Trying to fit in. Aus said he was a snitch.”

  “That’s not a capital crime,” I said. “Except in the Mafia.”

  “Aus said he had to go. I didn’t think he meant like that. I thought—he just meant—away.” Liam’s voice cracked. He sniffled.

  “Aus is the boss?” It rhymed.

  I went on with my tirade. “That’s not a reason to kill somebody. Deprive them of their whole life. Deprive a mother of her only child. Just because you didn’t like him. There are other ways of dealing with that. And then you wouldn’t be in trouble now.”

  Liam had a hand to his face and again shook his head. “That wasn’t the only thing. I told you. And it wasn’t me, it
was Aus. I didn’t even know.”

  “You knew after it happened. And he left you holding the bag. Are you some kind of wimp, or what?” I remembered Dad’s letter. Do those people have a hold over you? It didn’t have to be a hold. Just a forceful personality.

  “You don’t know Aus,” he said. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t—”

  He sniffled again. Were those tears for himself or for Johnny?

  I said, “Let me get this straight. You say you didn’t know Aus was going to do that?”

  Slowly he shook his head, then changed it to a nod. “No idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Maybe he truly was sorry. Killing somebody is rather monstrous, and if he didn’t know it was coming…

  “You need a lawyer,” I told him.

  “Nope.”

  “The police.”

  “I said no!” He almost forgot to whisper.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Big whoop.”

  “I mean it. You should appreciate the offer.”

  “I don’t. You’ll get yourself killed and me, too. And not only that, I can’t go anywhere.”

  “Why not? You don’t have your car?” I supposed the police had it and wouldn’t let it go.

  “I don’t have my car and I do have this.” He hiked up the hem of his pants.

  “An ankle monitor? I never saw one before.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I’m not lucky. I just, um—”

  “You keep your nose clean,” he finished for me. “Maybe you’re the wimp.”

  Did he think there was something glorious in being involved with murder?

  The tears said otherwise. Maybe his comment was only bravado.

  Chapter Eleven

  A set of wheels rolled past the window.

  Upstairs, a door banged open. It was an outside door, I could tell by the sound.

  Liam’s face was only a blob in the near dark. A terrified blob. He really was sort of a wimp. Or else Austen had him thoroughly brainwashed.

  My dad’s voice shouted, “Anybody home? Liam, where are you?”

  Liam stumbled up the stairs. I followed. I knew it was going to be awkward. Dad stared at us both, at Liam for being in the basement and at me just for being.

  I said, “Hi, Dad.”

  When he didn’t answer, I explained, “We were besieged.”