The corkscrew motion of his arm and elbow brought tears to my eyes. “That’s not what I want to hear, Mouth. I told you to stay away; and lo and behold, you are back again after another robbery.”
“I had a fucking appointment. It’s Thursday. I’m here every Thursday. Can you leave my chest alone? I don’t plan on running and leaving you my car. Shit, you know where I live.”
He didn’t take his arm away but did let up on some of the pressure. “Your appointment time is later than this. Why do you want to lie?”
“I’m not lying. The damn office was broken into and she called and asked if I could come early. She wanted to leave early today. What’s with you? This is the second time you’ve used your hands. What the fuck is all this about?”
I slowly moved my body into a more comfortable position. He didn’t stop me. I figured it might pay to stay on the offensive. “At least you didn’t bring your oversized pit bull.”
I figured wrong. A slight movement with his arm made me gasp for air. “Okay, I’m sorry. Leave a rib, will you?”
He showed me teeth again, but backed off my chest.
I had pretty much run out of things to say. I still had plenty of questions but, given the givens, this was not the time or place. We sat there quietly for a moment or two before he took out a cigarette pack and offered me one.
Both of us sat there smoking. I wasn’t getting high but I wasn’t getting hit either. “Can I open a window? I won’t scream, I promise.”
He nodded his assent, “Always a smartass, aren’t you? You don’t want to run your mouth when I’m with my partner. He always figures it’s directed at him and he’s usually right. Explains his disposition.”
“Look, man, I don’t ever want to see your partner again. I don’t know what you want or who you are.”
He turned toward his window and opened it. I thought about bolting but liberated the butt instead. He got rid of his and turned back to me. “Same as the other night. Why are you hanging around this building?”
“You’re ignoring my other question.”
“Yes I am. But you better stop ignoring mine.” He reached into his coat pocket. I thought about rolling out of the car if he pulled a gun, but all he produced was a piece of paper.
“I found this in your apartment. It’s time to explain yourself. No more smartass, no more lies.”
His voice hadn’t changed, but I knew my copy of the police report hanging from his massive fist meant I wasn’t going to be able to nurse any new wounds. “Dr. James got scared when the first burglary occurred. She didn’t believe the junkie story. She couldn’t figure why an addict would skip medical offices. She knows I have a ticket and asked me to check it out. I didn’t think much of her worries, but you don’t turn your shrink down when she asks a favor.”
“A little unusual, isn’t it, a shrink asking a client for a favor?”
“Yeah, but I’m almost done anyway. Maybe she thought it was a good way to terminate.” I looked at him. “Her idea might be more terminal than she realized.” He didn’t smile. “Like I said, I don’t think much of her worries.”
He shook the copy of the police report at me. “Then what’s this?”
“I had to do something after I walked around the hall, looked at the locks and nodded.”
“For a cherry P.I. you got long arms into the law.”
“Nah, the thing fell through the cracks.”
“Whose cracks?”
I looked at him and grimaced. “I’m gonna have to take the beating. If I tell you what you want to know, I’m done as an investigator. I don’t see getting rich off this gig, but I want to be able to work.”
“You don’t know whether you’ll be able to work after I get done with you.”
“I told you everything I know. You wanted to know why I was around, now you know. You wanted to know how I got involved, now you know. Leave me alone. I don’t give a shit about the robberies. Christ, I still believe it was a junkie.”
He twisted his body a little more in my direction and I braced myself for a blow. “Can I have another cigarette before I die?” I couldn’t help myself. Physical intimidation loosened my tongue.
“You can relax, Jacob,” he paused, “without an s. I’m not going to hurt you anymore today. I don’t believe you’re as innocent as you sound, but I don’t think you’re lying about how you got involved.
It’s too pathetic. Like play therapy for a kid. Only, Jacobs,” he leaned on the s, “you are not a kid.”
No wisecrack now. I just sat there.
“What did the two of you talk about today? Your problems?”
He made the last word feel like a gob of spit. I answered evenly. “Mostly. We also talked about the break-in.”
“She tell you that her files were stolen?”
I thought about lying but my chest still hurt. “Yes.”
“What else?”
“Nothing else.”
His eyes were all over me. I couldn’t feel innocent even if I had been. I hoped he factored that into his study. “What about copies?”
“I didn’t ask.”
He didn’t try to hide his disdain. “And the rest of her files?”
“What about the rest of her files?”
He grabbed me up by my throat. Mostly shirt but a little goes a long way when someone has ham hocks for hands. I moved in the direction he wanted. “I want to know if she showed you her files.”
I pointed to his hand and he reluctantly released me. “When she said she was still uneasy about the police analysis I asked to look through the file cabinet.”
“What for?”
“To look like I was helping out. Same as marching around the hall.”
He shook his head in disgust. “They’ll give that license to anyone who can walk, won’t they.” It wasn’t a question. He looked at me sideways. “What did you see when you went through the cabinet?”
“Through it? I didn’t get near it. She was like a fucking tiger with her cubs.”
He was sitting back in the seat and there was a smile on his face that seemed almost genuine. “She was like that with you too?” He began to laugh. It wasn’t a pleasant sound but I caught it and began to laugh as well. Probably for different reasons. All of a sudden he tightened up as if the momentary camaraderie was distasteful. He leaned toward me and I prepared for new pain, but he just tapped me lightly on my arm and said, “Don’t be in my face, Jacobs. The next time I bring back my friend.”
He got out of the car as quietly and gracefully as he got in. I didn’t look nearly as elegant as I fumbled for my cigarettes, put my head on the steering wheel and wrestled with the shakes.
It was a long while before I started the engine. I didn’t think there was any need to make sure Dr. James substantiated my story. She’d just claim client confidentiality. I didn’t think they would try to beat it out of her. Body-by-Gold finally seemed to have lost his interest in me. Most of me was relieved. Some of me wondered why.
I wanted to ask Phil for specifics about my police visitors but was reluctant to chance being followed, and too anxious to shake a tail. No need to hang Phil out on a line. Better to talk to Julius.
I drove home fully intending to see him first, but when I arrived I detoured to my apartment. It felt strange not to have Mrs. Sullivan’s light flash. I looked for a long moment at the lifeless bulb and felt a serious yen for my pre-detective days. Though it had been only a week since everything began, the week had eclipsed much of my prior life.
I went into the alley and retrieved the newspaper. I dug out my stash, sat at the kitchen table, and rolled a joint. Although I had the paper opened to sports, I didn’t do much reading. I just sat getting high, wondering what I was doing and why. Eventually thoughts of Boots began to creep in and with them another whole set of concerns. My anxieties were becoming unbearable. I decided to delay my search for Julius and visit Mrs. Sullivan instead. I also wanted to find Charles and see if he would mind tending store for a few more d
ays. I didn’t know how to spend them but, however much a part of me wanted to return to my normal routine, I wasn’t yet ready to let go. I couldn’t answer the why of that one either.
The visits took longer than I expected. It was passing strange to discover how much I liked these people. Mrs. Sullivan greeted me like a returning hero. Charles, I suspected, had neglected to tell her who had won the fight. It thrilled her, she said, to have a “private dick” in the building. She ignored my protests by insisting that I was “playing my cards close to my vest.” We both watched too much television.
When she heard that I planned to go downstairs and talk to Charles she demanded to come. I tried to explain that I’d just be repeating my story but she insisted. There might be a “tidbit” I’d neglected to tell her. I suggested that we invite him to her place so she wouldn’t have to walk, but she shrugged off my idea claiming she hadn’t felt as energetic in years. Who was I to argue since neither had I?
Rich was back from his trip and the four of us sat around their apartment drinking tea while I ran my rap. After I finished Richard said quietly, “It surprises me that you intend to continue with this.”
“Me too. But right now I can’t let go.”
“That’s good. Despite the beating, the work seems to suit you.”
I was oddly pleased by his remarks. “I sure don’t feel great.”
“I don’t think it matters. It’s much better than you sitting around in your place getting,” he interrupted himself and looked at Mrs. Sullivan, “getting stupid.”
The conversation was making me nervous. “I didn’t know you cared, kind man.”
Mrs. Sullivan cackled and Richard smiled. Charles, who up to now had been quiet, burst in. “He better not care too much,” he said with mock jealousy.
I stood up. “Not to worry, Charles, I’m too fat for Richard.” This time Mrs. Sullivan laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes.
After I finished the arrangements with Charles and Richard I walked Mrs. Sullivan back to her place. She was in no rush and I realized when I walked through my apartment door that just getting out of her apartment had given her real pleasure. I sat on the couch smoking a fresh joint and began thinking about Boots when I admitted the obvious. Getting out of the apartment was a pleasure for me as well.
“You might have left a note.”
I laughed. The day had turned April-nasty. Gray, windy, and damp, as usual too cold for my spring jacket. I detested spring in the Northeast, although we were walking because I wanted to. Simon hadn’t been shy about his preference for more civilized surroundings, but I had been insistent. I didn’t want to be inside with him right now.
“Simon, you nag more than my first wife.”
“Why don’t you ever use her name? Don’t you think I’d know who you meant if you said ‘Megan’?”
“Why don’t you go back to school and become a psychiatrist? You could become a twentieth century knight—Simon the shyster/shrink.”
He smiled and showed me his middle finger. He had a relaxed stride working as he looked around the community gardens. I was glad someone was enjoying this walk. I pulled my coat tighter against the raw.
He slowed his pace a bit. “It’s funny how some things bother you and others don’t. A couple of days ago when we were at the El Rancho you said the place stirred memories, remember? I used to have a garden right here. Shit, it was a long time ago. I was working for Legal Aid, kicking government ass. I used to come here at lunch to grow my vegetables. Tomatoes. If Earl Weaver could grow tomatoes in a Baltimore bullpen, I could grow them here.”
“How did they come out?”
“Lousy. He had the grounds crew get him special dirt. I read that in The Sporting News. No matter how broke I was, I always had a subscription to The Sporting News. Now it’s The Wall Street Journal.” He looked around the area slowly as if he were sipping at his past.
He stopped walking and turned to look at me. “Do you get The Sporting News}”
“Nah. I can’t stand the way the print comes off in my hands. Same thing keeps me away from the New York Times.” I didn’t think he’d ask about the Christian Science Monitor.
Simon seemed relieved by my answer and started to walk again. We came to the edge of the gardens. He didn’t seem to care and continued on the path that led to the bushes. Kneejerk homophobia nodded its head and I nodded back. The bushes would at least give us some protection from the fucking wind.
We were parading around between the tree-height ferns and bullrushes before I said anything. “How long do you intend to keep us out in this shit?” I led us to one of the naturally protected cubbyholes that formed at the base of the giant bullrushes. It usually served as an after-hours meeting place for men who wished anonymous sex. The area was deserted, since the weather wasn’t conducive to afternoon love. When the night came the weather wouldn’t matter.
“You’re the one who wanted to be outside. Here we are outside.”
“Aren’t we in a cheerful accommodating mood? Did you get laid for lunch?” The words were hardly out of my mouth before I was choking back the Aquarium image that flooded my mind. Simon didn’t seem to notice. He just shrugged.
“No, but things are a little better at home.”
“Really? The nightmares are easing?” God, I hoped so. An easy way out.
“No, damn it.” He shook his head. I watched him button his coat. “No, but at least we are back in the same room. I like it better even though I lose sleep. Better to feel tired than useless.” His face brightened as if he had remembered something. He had.
“What about you and Boots?”
“What do you mean?”
“You guys looked so good I was sure you would leave together, but then I saw her back at the party. What happened?”
“Nothing happened, and nothing will. Why didn’t you tell me that she stopped seeing me ’cause the relationship was a dead end?”
“I did tell you. You wouldn’t listen. You would only believe she was slumming. You were an asshole. Worse than usual.”
I didn’t have the slightest memory of the conversation. “She’s a good lady. I don’t want to fuck with her head.”
“How can you fuck with her head?”
“Come on, Simon. She wants long-term.”
“So?”
“What’s the matter with you? Back off, will you? First you want to be a shrink, now a shadkin?”
He put his hands up. “Whoa. I’m not sure what I just walked into, but sorry.”
“So what are we out here for?”
“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I know that Boots cheers you up. Nothing terrible about that.”
The wind had died but the drizzle was thickening as I lit a cigarette. I felt impatient yet another part of me felt ridiculous. Here I was sulking because there was someone who could cheer me up and I didn’t want to admit it. I finished the cigarette and stuck my head out from under the branches and let the rain fall flat on my face. Two men walked down the path in front of us and graciously made sure not to look in our direction.
Simon lifted his arm and leaned it against the twisted trunk of a bush. I pulled my head in and asked, “What do you want to talk about?” My voice sounded quiet underneath the drops of rain tapping on the leaves.
“I wanted to follow up on the Lincoln lead you dug up.”
“It really isn’t a lead.”
Simon looked at me anxiously. “What do you mean?”
I looked at him standing there. Water was still running down my face. All the years of his concern and friendship washed over me. I was asked to guard his wife but my job was to protect him.
“We go back a long time Simon. After your divorce you said you weren’t ever going to let yourself get beat up again, especially by your own hand. Well, I’m an expert in punching myself out. That’s why you have to listen. What you’re doing here is wrong. However you term it, you have me spying on Fran. It’s lousy for you because it’s a wild g
oose chase that’s going to leave you disappointed. It’s lousy for Fran because she hasn’t done anything to deserve being followed. And it’s lousy for me because of the position I’m in when she finds out. And she will. Everyone finds out everything eventually. The point is to do as little as you can to hurt your people when the truth finally does come out. And when this comes out, it will hurt her.”
He thought about it. He thought about it for a while. We stood there as the rain slackened and watched a small bird peck in the weeds alongside the rutted path. Simon leaned back against the gnarled trunk oblivious to the shower of water his action produced. He rubbed his face with his hands and when he pulled his hands away his relaxed look went with them. Taking its place was tired resignation.
“I think you’re half right. I have been getting carried away and not keeping things in perspective. But I still think you’re wrong about labeling it spying. I don’t think anything terrible will happen between me and Fran if she does find out about it. I’m not prying, I’m trying to protect her in whatever way I can.” He shook his head. “I just want to make sure that all the angles are covered.”
He meant it. But how do you tell someone that he was covering too many angles already without telling him why? I wasn’t going to change his mind and I knew I was being drawn into something that wasn’t going to leave anyone dancing.
Simon kept on talking. “The other thing you’re right about. It does put you right in the middle. Since you think this puts your relationship with Fran in jeopardy, let’s pull you off. I can find a more neutral party. Give me what you’ve got. It wasn’t right to push you into this and I’m sorry.”
A part of me lunged toward the door Simon had just opened, but the friendship side didn’t budge. I couldn’t let Simon walk wide-eyed into another gumshoe’s incriminating information about Fran. I owed him more than that. “Look, if you’re convinced that this is the right way to go then I should do it.”
He looked at me carefully. “Why? What about being in the middle?”
“I don’t want a stranger poking around in your life. Especially since I don’t think there’s any reason to.”
The Complete Matt Jacob Series Page 12
