He left. I said to Hawk, “You really think she shot hin trying to escape?”
Hawk said, “Hell no. The minute we took off after Zachary she picked up the rifle and shot him. You know goddamned well that’s what she did.”
“Yeah, that’s my guess.”
“I don’t think they know different, though. Morgan don’t look dumb but he got nobody to swear it wasn’t like she telling it, I think. I bet everybody looking at you and me and old lovable Zach, when she done it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think that too.”
Three hours and fifteen minutes later, the door opened and Hugh Dixon came in in a motor-driven wheel chair and stopped beside my bed.
I said, “I did not expect to see you here.”
He said, “I did not expect to see you here.”
“It’s not bad, I’ve had worse.” I gestured at the next bed. “This is Hawk,” I said. “This is Hugh Dixon.”
Hawk said, “How do you do.”
Dixon nodded his head once, without speaking. Behind him in the doorway was the Oriental man who had opened doors for me the last two times. A couple of nurses looked in through the half open door. Dixon looked at me some more.
“In a way it’s too bad,” he said. “Now I have nothing.”
“I know,” I said.
“But that’s not your fault. You did what you said you’d do. My people have verified everyone. I understand they have the last one in jail here.”
I shook my head. “Nope. She’s not in it. I missed the last one.”
Hawk looked over at me without saying anything. Dixon looked at me a long time.
I said, “How’d you get here so fast?”
“Private plane,” Dixon said, “Lear jet. She’s not the one?”
“No, sir,” I said. “I missed the girl.”
He looked at me some more. “All right. I’ll pay you the full sum anyway.” He took an envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to me. I didn’t open it. “I’ve sent Carroll to the police,” Dixon said. “There should be no difficulty for you. I have some influence in Canada.”
“Get the girl out too,” I said.
Again he looked at me. I could almost feel the weight of his look. Then he nodded. Once. “I will,” he said. We were silent then, except for a faint whirr from his wheel chair.
“Carroll will take care of your medical bills,” Dixon said.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Thank you,” Dixon said. “You did everything I wanted done. I am proud to have known you.” He put out his hand. We shook hands. He rolled the chair over to Hawk and shook hands with him. He said to us both, “You are good men. If you need help from me at any time I will give it to you.” Then he turned the chair and went out. The Oriental man closed the door behind him and Hawk and I were alone in the room. I opened the envelope. The check was for fifty thousand dollars.
I said to Hawk, “He doubled the fee. I’ll give you half.”
Hawk said, “Nope. I’ll take what I signed up for.” We were quiet. Hawk said, “You gonna let that little psycho loose?”
“Yeah.”
“Sentimental, dumb. You don’t owe her nothing.”
“She was a Judas goat but she was my Judas goat,” I said. “I don’t want to send her into the slaughter house too. Maybe she can stay with you.”
Hawk looked at me and said again, “Haw.”
“Okay, it was just a thought.”
“She belong in the joint,” Hawk said. “Or in the funny farm.”
“Yeah, probably. But I’m not going to put her there.”
“Somebody will.”
“Yeah.”
“And she might do somebody in ‘fore they do.”
“Yeah. ”You crazy, Spenser. You know that. You crazy.“
“Yeah.”
30
The Thames was glistening and firm below us as Susan and I stood on Westminster Bridge. My left arm was still in a cast and I was wearing my classic blue blazer with four brass buttons on the, cuff, draped over my shoulders like David Niven. I could get the cast through my shirt sleeve but not through the coat. Susan had on a white dress with dark blue polka dots all over it. She had a wide white belt around her waist and white sling high-heeled shoes. Her bare arms were tan and her black hair glistened in the English twilight. We were leaning on the railing looking down at the water. I wasn’t wearing a gun. I could smell her perfume. “Ah,” I said, “this sceptered isle, this England.” Susan turned her face toward me, her eyes invisible behind her enormous opaque sunglasses. There were faint parenthetical smile lines at her mouth and they deepened as she looked at me. “We have been here for about three hours,” she said. “You have sung `A Foggy Day in London Town,‘ `A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square,’ `England Swings Like a Pendulum Do,‘ `There’ll Be Blue Birds Over the White Cliffs of Dover.’ You have quoted Samuel Johnson, Chaucer, Dickens and Shakespeare.”
“True,” I said. “I also assaulted you in the shower at the hotel.”
“Yes.”
“Where would you like to eat dinner?”
“You say,” she said. “Post Office Tower.”
“Isn’t that kind of touristy?”
“What are we, residents?”
“You’re right. The tower it is.”
“Want to walk?”
“Is it far?”
“Yes.”
“Not in these shoes, then.”
“Okay, we’ll take a cab. I got a lot of bread. Stick with me, babe, and you’ll be wearing ermine.” I gestured to a cab. He stopped. We climbed in and I gave him the address. “Hawk wouldn’t take half the money?” Susan said. In the cab she rested her hand lightly on my leg. Would the driver notice if I assaulted her in the cab? Probably. I said, “Nope. He gave me a bill for his expenses and the fee for his time. It’s his way of staying free. As I said, he has rules.”
“And Kathie?” I shrugged, and my jacket slipped off my shoulders. Susan helped me slip it back on. “Dixon got her released and we never saw her. She never went back to the rented house. I haven’t seen her since.”
“I think you were wrong to let her go. She’s not someone who should be walking around loose.”
“You’re probably right,” I said. “But she got to be one of us. I couldn’t be the one to put her away. When you come down to it, Hawk shouldn’t be running loose either.”
“I suppose not. So how do you decide?” I started to shrug again, remembered my jacket, and stopped. “Sometimes I guess, sometimes I trust my instincts, sometimes I don’t care. I do what I can.” She smiled. “Yes, you do,” she said. “I noticed that at the hotel while I was trying to shower. Even with one arm. ”
“I’m very powerful,” I said. “A lot of people died this trip out,” she said. “Yes.”
“That bothers you some.”
“Yes.”
“This time worse than many.”
“There was a lot of blood. Too much,” I said. “People die. Some people probably ought to. But this time there was a lot. I needed to get rid of it. I needed to get clean.”
“The fight with Zachary,” she said. “Goddamn,” I said. “You don’t miss anything, do you?”
“I don’t miss very much about you,” she said. “I love you. I have come to know you very well.”
“Yeah, the fight with Zachary. That was a kind of-what-sweating out the poison, maybe. I don’t know. For Hawk too, I think. Or maybe for Hawk it was just competition. He doesn’t like to lose. He’s not used to it.”
“I understand that,” she said. “I begin to wonder about myself sometimes. But I understand what you mean.”
“Do you understand that there’s more?”
“What?”
“You,” I said. “The shower assault. It’s like I need to love you to come back whole from where I sometimes go.” She rubbed the back of her left hand on my right cheek. “Yes,” she said, “I know that too.” The cab pulled up at the Post Office Tower. I paid
and overtipped. We held hands going up in the elevator. It was early evening on a week night. We were seated promptly. “Touristy,” Susan murmured to me. “Very touristy.”
“Yes,” I said, “but you can have Mateus Rose and I can have Amstel beer and we can watch the evening settle onto London. We can eat duckling with cherries and I can quote Yeats.”
“And later,” she said, “there’s always another shower.”
“Unless I drink too much Amstel,” I said, “and eat too much duck with cherries.”
“In which likelihood,” Susan said, “we can shower in the morning.”
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The Judas Goat s-5 Page 16
