Embrace the Wolf

by Benjamin M. Schutz

  I stepped back from my reverie and looked around for Wendy. She’d been right next to me.

  “You got kind of spacey, there. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah, honest. I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m all here, on active duty now. Let’s go look for Boswell.” The half-day charters were coming in, and the dock was filling up. Everyone was milling around trying to see what had been caught and by whom. I took Wendy by the elbow and steered her through the crowds.

  He was just there, right in front of me. I almost did a double take. Instead I just walked by and took up a position a few feet away and looked expectantly out to the sea. After a decent interval, as they say, I turned to Wendy and said, “That’s him, Herb Saunders. Let’s just wait here until he moves off the dock and we can talk to him alone.” She nodded and tried to look over my shoulder at him. I turned back and, scrupulously not looking at him, tried to pick up his conversation over the din all around us.

  “How much is it?” he said to a leathery skinned bandy-legged old man who looked like a tortoise unshelled.

  The man turned away from me and pointed down the dock. He turned back, and Saunders asked him how much time he needed. The guy replied whenever you want, just give me a call first. They shook hands, and the old guy ticked off a salute at Saunders and walked past him and then us. Saunders took the whole scene in one last time, found nothing of interest, and moved to the exit. I had found one thing of interest. There was no black bag.

  I thought about his looks and realized I’d never assembled a picture of him in my mind. He was shorter than I, probably five foot nine or so, bushy browed, and bald. I watched his eyes as they scanned the crowds again. The furrow on his brow looked permanent, and he exuded an aura of focused energy. His thick arms, legs, and torso added to the image of energy compacted and intensified.

  When he had moved off a little way from the crowd, I began to close on him. I wasn’t sure what was the best approach to take. Confrontation seemed wrong, so I called after him. “Excuse me, sir. Did you drop this?” I held out a ten dollar bill to him. It always works. Everyone stops for a second to recall if they had such a bill or to make sure it’s still there. Then there’s the extra measure taken to consider the current market value of their integrity. That’s all I needed. I was right up next to Saunders when he concluded that it wasn’t his and he wouldn’t lie for it.

  “Hello, my name is Leo Haggerty. Your wife, Maggie, is worried about you, Mr. Saunders. She asked me to look for you.” I searched for signs that he was going to hit me or bolt. He just blinked once and said, “Excuse me, but you’ve made a mistake. My name is not Saunders.”

  I reached quickly for his picture in my jacket pocket, smiled, and eased it out. “That’s you, Mr. Saunders. I’m not mistaken. I’m not the police and I’m not a friend of Justin Randolph’s. Your wife hired me to find you. She’s quite upset about your disappearance. She thought it was like in the past—you chasing ghosts.”

  His face flushed with indignation. I continued. “We know why you’re here. He’s no ghost. I followed your trail to Justin Randolph. So did Maggie and Pete DeVito. I’ve told the local police. Let them look for him, or get the FBI called in. Or let me look for him. Why don’t you go back to Maggie? She needs you.”

  His expression changed. “No. No more stand-ins. That’s the problem with everything today. Nobody does for themselves. We’ve got experts and consultants on how to wipe your ass. Well, not me and not this. My kids. MY KIDS. Do you hear? I’ll get them back.” He jabbed a fat forefinger at himself and then me.

  “Okay. I can understand that. Let me help you though. Double your chances of finding him. Can you afford not to?” My offer perplexed him. He rubbed his chin a couple of times.

  “No. I’ll do it alone. This town’s small. He won’t escape.”

  “That isn’t it, is it? You don’t just want your girls, you want Randolph too, for yourself. If it was your girls, you’d take any helping hand you could find. No, you want some time alone with Randolph. You want vengeance.” I didn’t feel at all smug.

  “So what?”

  “So nothing. I don’t care what happens to Randolph. I do care about your wife and your kids. They need you, and you’re no good to anyone in jail if you kill Randolph.”

  “I won’t kill him unless I have to. And you’re only half-right, Mr. High and Mighty. Revenge would suit me just fine. But I want first crack at locating my girls, unhampered by ‘due process’ bullshit. No sleazebag lawyers, plea bargaining, wheeling in the whore-shrinks, tying up everybody’s hands with paper chains. No. Just a simple question and answer session between Mr. Randolph and me.”

  I thought bitterly that the greatest obstacle to action in our society was a piece of paper entitled “Motion.” “I understand how you feel, Mr. Saunders. I’m sure I’d want to do the same thing. But I can’t let you. It’s not that the law is sacred to me. I’ve trampled it a few times and tippy-toed around it plenty, but your wife’s my client and she wants you back safely. Simple as that. I’ve got a job to do.”

  I didn’t want to stand too long in his shoes. I didn’t want his pain and rage to seep up through me. I’d wind up letting him crucify Randolph and then dance around the body. No. Let me remember Maggie’s sad eyes, her pain and loss. There were too many masters here, too many conflicting goals, too many hurts to repair. I had to pick one, yet it was getting ever harder to ignore the others’ claim. The lady of the scales is not blind out of wisdom or choice, but out of necessity.

  “Let me search for him with you, Saunders. This is my last offer. Otherwise, I’ll be on you like a rash. You may find him first, but I won’t give you the time you want.” Somewhere back in the darkest corner of my mind I held out the hope that if I was with him, maybe something would happen where I couldn’t protect Randolph. Then Saunders would get his wish, but it wouldn’t be my fault. That was more craven than I could stand, so I buried that thought.

  “No. That’s my final word. You follow me and that’s harassment. I’ll call the cops on you. Swear out a complaint.”

  It was a nice move. “Like hell you will. You don’t want the police knowing you’re here or where you are. As you said, you want to be left alone. If you don’t let me go along with you, I’ll call the cops on you.” Thrust.

  “What for? They can’t arrest me for anything. I haven’t done a thing. I’m just a tourist. Not only that, in case you haven’t noticed, this little burg is starting to fill up fast. By tomorrow there’ll be ten or fifteen thousand people here for the weekend. They couldn’t watch me if they wanted to.” Parry.

  We had a standoff. If I tailed him, he’d get my wrist slapped and I’d lose him in the crowds. Even if his pursuit of Randolph was obstructed briefly, he was right. The police couldn’t keep him under surveillance. I was betting he wouldn’t want even that brief interruption of his hunt.

  “I’m calling your bluff, smartass. I’m going to walk. Follow me and see what happens.”

  I was wrong. Time to regroup, take a new track. I watched Saunders walk away from me. I had an idea, but I couldn’t implement it, yet. I looked at Wendy who’d been patiently standing by and motioned for her to head to the car.

  As I walked over to the car there was a note under the windshield wiper. I plucked it out and unfolded it. Just three lines.

  SLOPPY SECONDS

  WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT

  SWEET THING

  “Damn.” Trying to watch out for Wendy and find Saunders had made me as useful as a one-legged man at an ass kicking. I folded it over and calmly put it in my jacket pocket. I didn’t ball it up and throw it away. That would be anger. I didn’t whirl and look all around for the author. That would be fear and confusion. No, I just went around and let Wendy into the car and then let myself in. That was indifference. The threat was less than an object of my concern. I moved my eyes behind my shades and saw nothing but a large shape slide through the front door of the hardware store across the stree
t. Coincidence perhaps. My pulse was pounding in my ears, but I continued to appear unruffled. As Arnie would say: a threat is a fool’s gift, for surprise is one of the four great weapons. I tried to recall his Kenjutsu lesson.

  The blade is unsheathed by the willingness to die

  Each proper blow begins with the surprise that disarms

  Is struck with the ferocity that crushes the will

  And from the stance that keeps each next blow a secret.

  They had given away surprise and that was nice. I just needed to work on the “willingness to die” end of things.

  Wendy fortunately hadn’t paid attention to the note, and I wasn’t about to tell her about it. She’d taken a big step back into the world this morning, overcoming her fear to do something that had been part of her “normal” life. This letter, like Bubba’s call could undo all that. I backed the car up and slowly rolled after Saunders who was headed toward a motel near the end of the docks. He never bothered to see if I was following him. He just went up to the building, climbed the stairs at the end of it, went down to his room, and entered. I drove around to the back and checked to see if there was a back stairway up to his room. There was. A slow turn through the parking lot turned up three cars with Maryland tags. Two had “Go Terp” bumper stickers and were parked side by side. The third I guessed to be Saunders’. It was right next to the staircase.

  It was time for my new approach. I parked in the fire lane so I could use the public phone just outside the manager’s office, and still be close to the car if Saunders came running out and tried to get in his car and lose us. Wendy got the job of keeping an eye on the staircase for Saunders’ return. I gave the operator my credit card number and waited to hear Maggie Saunders’ voice. That wasn’t to be. A man answered the phone.

  “Uh, hello. I’d like to speak with Margaret Saunders.” Keep it cryptic.

  “I’m sorry, that’s impossible.”

  I didn’t like his choice of words. “Impossible. Why? What’s happened?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t say anything else. I’d suggest you call the police for further information.” The line went dead before I got to say thanks a lot.

  I got the same operator and told her the next call was an emergency call to the police and to override any busy lines. She took DeVito’s number and put me though.

  “Police. This is Officer Shanahan. May I help you?” A mellow-toned copette.

  “Yes. Is Sergeant DeVito there, please?”

  “May I say who’s calling?”

  “Yes. It’s Leo Haggerty about Herb Saunders.”

  “Hold a moment please.” I swept the area looking for any of the soft signs of trouble I might be up to detecting. Like groups of ten or more armed men.

  “DeVito here. Glad you called.”

  “What’s happened? I called the Saunders’ house and got some guy telling me it was impossible to speak to Mrs. Saunders and to call you.”

  “Yeah. That was probably the last of the rescue squad guys. Maggie’s in Suburban, under sedation. She started to lose it after we dug up Randolph’s basement earlier today. I dropped her at her house and she said she’d call her doctor for something to calm her down. By the time he got out there, she was a basket case, so he called to have her admitted to Suburban right away.”

  “What did you find out there?”

  “What didn’t we find. Bodies, lot of bodies. Pieces of bodies. In the walls, in the ground—all little ones, man. Tapes—video and sound only. We played the one he used when he called Herb. He had copies of the posters Herb had made up and a tape of Herb’s television appeal. It’s beyond words. Just incredible. There’s a code book too. We don’t know what it means, but there’re forty-one entries. Forty-one. Going back seven, almost eight years. We think it’s got locations, identifying data, God knows what else, all in code. Make my day. Tell me Randolph fell into a Rototiller.”

  “No such luck at all. I’ve found Herb Saunders, but I can’t get him to go home and let me find Randolph. I was hoping to get Maggie to fly down here to reason with him, but now that’s out of the question. By the way, do you know what room she’s in?”

  “Yeah, three hundred and seventy-four east wing. I’m putting everything I’ve got on the wires to the police chief down there.”

  “Anything on Randolph’s beach house?”

  “Not yet. His papers are all in safe deposit boxes throughout the city. We haven’t been able to open them all yet. If I get anything I’ll call down there right away.” There was a long pause and then DeVito spoke in a voice that was sad, gentle, and tired all at once. “I don’t know how you want to use this with Herb, but there ain’t much chance those kids are alive. We haven’t sorted out all the bodies and there may be ones located elsewhere, but it looks like Randolph killed them all when he was done with them. Maybe Herb’ll come home if he knows it’s over. Good luck, Haggerty.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” I looked around for some of that on the streets and, like the early signs of trouble, I saw none.

  Chapter 20

  I rubbed my stubbly chin, took off my glasses, and pressed my eyes closed. Things still looked just as bad.

  Herb Saunders trotted down the stairs with a wrapped loaf of bread in his hand. He swung around the side of the motel, apparently on his way to the beach. I got back in the car and nosed it into a parking space. Wendy got out as I did. I thought about taking the Remington along with us, but I needed to talk to Saunders and the gun would most likely create more problems than it might solve. I left it guarding the spare tire.

  Wendy and I hopped, skipped, and jumped trying to settle into a matching pattern of strides. That done, I looked up and saw Saunders ahead of us. He’d stopped for a moment to take off his shoes and roll up his pants legs. We followed him out the walkway between the dunes to the beach. Spread out all over the sand were gulls, sand pipers, and plovers. Each one stood unmoving, but followed Saunders eyes only as he approached. He stopped at the edge of their congregation, untied the bag of bread, reached in, and flung an offering to them.

  All at once the birds were airborne. Hovering, wings flapping in front of Saunders, they snatched out of the air each piece he threw. He moved slowly, easily, calmly with a small smile on his face. He seemed to be enjoying the incessant beating of the wings all around him, the untamed animal energy so close, but without any attendant danger. When his bag seemed close to empty, we walked down toward him. I stood off to the side of him, Wendy beside me. He was still in the eye of the bird storm. The bag was now empty and, just as suddenly as they had arisen, the birds settled back onto the sand, arranged themselves with respect to each other’s territory, and ignored us.

  Saunders slowly turned to me. I could tell he was angered by our presence. Not wanting to alienate him further, I decided to speak first. “Mr. Saunders, I have some news for you. I’ve spoken with Pete DeVito. They’ve been through Randolph’s house.”

  Saunders began to fold the bread wrapper into squares. He alternated between looking down at it to check that each corner was aligned and then back at me. “Yes?”

  Here goes nothing. “They found a large number of bodies buried in the house. It seems that whoever he snatched he eventually killed. Pete thought it likely that your girls were in there.” There, done.

  Saunders stroked his scalp and then gently patted the back of his head. A small gesture of consolation. I remember my father patting me like that once. I’d struck out with the bases loaded. If my bat had been a blade, I’d have fallen on it.

  “Have they identified them for sure?” When he finally spoke, his calm startled me.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Then they might not be there.” Though the evidence mounted, he was still hoarding his last scraps of hope.

  “If they’re not there, then he most likely buried them elsewhere. The man’s a killer. He doesn’t let people go.” I was surprised at my adamance.

  “Neither do I, Mr. Haggerty, and I won’t let go of my search
until I’m absolutely certain they’re gone.” He began to move back toward the motel.

  “There’s another piece of news. Your wife is in the hospital, sedated. She apparently broke down when they were bringing the bodies up out of the house. She was asking for you.” I pardoned myself for that last lie, hoping it would provide a more compelling mission for him than the one he was on.

  Saunders stopped and, withou turning back to me he said, “Is that true, Haggerty?”

  I’m a good liar, but I was grateful he wasn’t looking me in the eye when I said, “Yeah, it’s the truth.”

  He turned back to me finally and asked, “Where is she?”

  “In Suburban, three hundred seventy-four east wing, DeVito said. Why don’t you give her a call, talk to her. She needs you.” I was starting to chant.

  “Yeah. You’re right. Hell of a thing to go through alone.” Saunders turned back to the motel and strode off. I was dismissed. What did I want, a thanks? I’m just doing a job. I went up to Wendy who had been silent observer to my dealing with Saunders and gave her a report. “I think he might go back home. It looks like his kids have been found …”

  “Are they okay?” she interrupted, optimistically.

  “No. They weren’t okay. What they found were bodies.” I was starting to feel pretty brutal this afternoon. Announcing deaths like I was running a deli counter: Who’s next? How you want it sliced?

  “I’m sorry I was so abrupt. I guess I don’t know anybody that’s okay today and it’s getting to me.”

  “Me too,” she said. She turned and walked back to the motel. Standing alone on the beach I felt surprisingly bereft.