Dead Men's Dust jh-1

by Matt Hilton

  "Maybe, but he seems to have put the scare into John. He must have some sort of weight behind him."

  "From what you told me, John ain't too hard to scare. Ran away from this weasely Shank character. I take it your brother's not the bravest dude on the planet?"

  My head shake was as much from memory as from disagreement.

  "He wasn't running from Shank. Shank was Jennifer's problem, not John's. There were others involved."

  "I know, he'd shacked up with this Blake woman, too," Rink said. "He was runnin' from his marriage."

  "Among other things," I said.

  Rink pulled the rental over to the side of the road. He sat looking at me.

  "What haven't you told me, Hunter?"

  "I didn't think this had anything to do with what happened before," I said, "but now I'm not so sure." I was pensive for a moment. Rink continued to give me the eye. "I told you me and John had a falling out, yeah?"

  "Uh-huh. But you never told me why."

  My face felt like clay, cold and clammy, as I rubbed my hands over my features. I was already tired, but more than that, thinking about John's predicament made me bone weary.

  "Not long after I resigned from the job, he came to me with a problem," I said.

  "Go on," Rink prompted.

  "He'd got himself involved with some real heavy-duty shit. Stupid son of a bitch had been playing cards and writing IOUs he couldn't hope to cover. First went his car, then the house. But it wasn't enough. He had nothing left and had no one to turn to."

  "So you did the honorable thing?"

  "Yeah, I bailed them out. Jenny doesn't know it to this day. I gave John the cash to pay it off. But an addiction being what it is, John went and blew it on another sure bet. I called him on it—the money—and that's when we had the falling out. It was just a stupid argument."

  "You didn't talk to him again?"

  "No, Rink. I didn't even see him again."

  Rink nodded. "That's when he run out?"

  "He must have been planning it."

  "Punk."

  I shrugged. "After that, the only way I could think to help him and Jenny was to face down the guys he owed and make them back off. Wasn't easy. They weren't as easily intimidated as Shank was."

  "They didn't back off?"

  "No."

  "You're slipping, Hunter."

  "Seriously," I said. "Short of going to war with them, there wasn't much I could do. So instead, I arranged for John and Jenny to disappear for a while. It was all set, they were going to go off together, assume new identities, everything. Then John went and messed it all up. Unbeknownst to all of us, he'd been seeing this Louise Blake on the side. Before we knew it, they took off together. Just flew. Gone."

  "Leaving poor Jenny and his kids behind to take the flack," Rink concluded.

  "Yeah," I agreed. "I did everything I could for her. Helped her get back on her feet. I had space in my house, but she refused. Said she needed a place of her own. John didn't even get in touch and let her know where he was."

  "And you want to help this peckerhead?"

  "He's still my brother, Rink."

  Rink raised an eyebrow, but then gave a soft nod.

  "Plus, I'm doing this for his wife and kids."

  "Okay. But I'm surprised she wants him back."

  "Jenny doesn't want him back," I explained. "She's looking for some kind of closure. I think she wants me to find John so she can spit in his eye."

  "I'm with her on that one."

  "Me, too. Took a lot of work sorting out the problems he left. As I said, they were a major outfit with major connections. They put out a contract on him."

  "Shit," Rink said.

  "In the end they saw reason. I explained that John had doublecrossed us all, that we were all equally aggrieved. So I made an agreement with them that they didn't go near Jenny or the kids. The alternative was that I'd call back up and wipe them out."

  "They believed you were capable?"

  "I think it was more fear of the unknown," I said. "They didn't know who I was or what I was prepared to do. But some of them had heard stuff. I believe in the end they decided it was more trouble than it was worth. You could say that going to war with me wasn't profitable."

  "Did they call in the contract on John?"

  "Who knows what they'd do if he ever showed up again."

  "Which is why you think he's missing?"

  "Nah." I shook my head. "There's more to it than that. John has

  other reasons. I guess the point I'm trying to make is this: He's a selfish son of a bitch. Doesn't give a shit for anyone but himself. But I don't think he'd be running from the likes of Petoskey if it's only about a couple of hundred dollars' gambling debt." I paused, summing up exactly what it was that I was trying to say. "Something big has happened. Something he's so frightened of that he's disappeared again and he doesn't want to go back. Louise Blake has been left high and dry, the same as he left Jenny. That means he's attempting to cut all ties, so he can disappear without a trace. You don't do that for any piddling gambling debt."

  Rink agreed.

  "Petoskey's an asshole," he reiterated. "But I see where you're coming from. What's he gonna do? Maybe order an ass whuppin', maybe a broken arm or something? He's not going to order John's death, is he?"

  "Unless Petoskey's more dangerous than we're giving him credit for," I pointed out.

  "Could be, but I stand on my first opinion. He's a small potato playing at the big time. The way I remember, he's too chickenshit to take someone out for real."

  "You've been gone from here a long time. People change."

  "Okay, I'll concede that. But it still leaves another option, doesn't it?"

  "John's made an enemy of someone else? Someone who is prepared to kill him."

  Rink leaned forward, turned on the engine, and pulled out into the traffic. He turned to me, said, "But you're still fixin' to start with Petoskey?"

  "Yeah. We're going to do it loud and hard. We need to shake him up, Rink. Make him fear us. I'm going to make him tell us where John is. Hopefully, it'll end there," I said. "But I don't think so."

  "No," Rink said. "Now that you've got me thinking, I don't figure so, either."

  The city was behind us now and we were entering a grimier section of town.

  "What are we doing here?" I asked.

  "Just thought we'd take a detour and scope out the land. Harvey said Petoskey does business from an office downtown, also mentioned this place he visits when the dealings are a little more underhanded. Thought we'd just drive by and take a look. Thought it would be better to hit him there than downtown. Less chance of the cops arriving and saving his ass before we're through."

  Up ahead was a building right out of a ghost story. Rink raised his chin to indicate the place.

  "What do you think?"

  "Is it haunted?" I joked.

  "Only by hobos, I guess," Rink said.

  The building was a huge redbrick affair, but little of the original color showed through the accumulated soot. Five stories high with a flat roof, rows of windows on each level. Not too many of the windows retained their original glass. Some were boarded over with molding plywood, while others bore remnants of glass like the shards of teeth in a crone's mouth. The uppermost windows had fared better; perhaps they'd been replaced more recently. Beyond the dull glass there appeared to be sheets of semiopaque plastic.

  "What do you think the plastic's for?"

  "Not the obvious," Rink said. "It's not there to catch blood. More than likely it's to dampen down any sounds from inside."

  "Looks to me like there could be squatters on the lower floors."

  "Uh-huh. Good cover. Who in their right mind's goin' to want to run a gauntlet of crackheads and thieves?"

  "Only those who really have to," I said.

  Rink spun the car around in an abandoned lot so we could take a second drive by Petoskey's hideout. Second time around it looked no better.

  "Time to
meet Harvey?" Rink asked.

  "Yeah," I said. In the rearview mirror, the building took on the color of old blood. It seemed to exude the promise of unrestrained violence.

  13

  "mr. hunter?" louise blake looked me up and down. "You're John's brother?" "Yes." "You look like him." We shook hands. "Please. Sit down. I've already taken the liberty of ordering coffee," I said.

  She sat down and immediately reached for her mug. Quick gulp. Not so much a need for the caffeine as for something to occupy her trembling hands. She pushed the cup from her, almost empty. Fiddled with the handle. There was a faint knocking coming from the table as if the spirits were making contact at a séance.

  You might say that she was a little nervous.

  I'd never met her before, but I recalled John talking about the beauty he was working with. I'd suspected he was glorifying her through the bottom of his beer goggles, but seeing her now, I had to admit she was a good-looking woman. Even pinched with worry and nervously adjusting her clothing, she had the fine bones and full lips of a model. Not Vogue standard, but perhaps your mail-order catalog girl on the way to the big time.

  Something else struck me. Louise Blake was a younger version of Jenny. One not changed by childbirth, and the ultimate betrayal of trust.

  "I hope you don't mind meeting me here?" Louise said. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts to hug herself. Most likely it was another attempt at concealing the shakes. "The thing is, I don't think it would be a good idea for you to show up at my house."

  "This place is as good as any," I told her. I was nursing my cup of strong coffee, while Louise looked like she wanted more. She required reassurance that she was among friends. I made the introductions.

  Harvey Lucas had arranged the meeting with seclusion in mind. Neutral turf, he called it. More like minimal space. We were squashed into a booth in a greasy spoon diner at the end of a strip mall. There weren't too many customers at this hour of the afternoon, and those who were there apparently understood the concept of privacy. The booths on either side of ours remained empty, which added to the ludicrous scene of the four of us packed together at a table designed for two. Rink and I sat on one side, while Louise and Harvey sat facing us. Pressed into the corner by the window by Harvey's imposing bulk, Louise looked like a cornered rodent menaced by a panther.

  When you think of a private eye, you might picture a middle-aged white man in a houndstooth sports jacket and mustard slacks. Possibly wearing a fedora to cover his thinning hair. Harvey was anything but. He was six feet five, two hundred and twenty pounds of sleek muscle, with a bullet head. And his skin was blue-black to the point that it reflected the overhead lights.

  Harvey Lucas looked like a professional boxer and dressed with the panache and flair of a movie star. I'd learned that he was an exarmy Ranger, the connection to Rink now obvious.

  Harvey cut into the conversation in a rich baritone. "Been some strange-looking people hanging around Miss Blake's place these past coupla days. Thought it best we did our business out of sight."

  "Petoskey's people?" I asked.

  "Could be," Harvey said. "But if you ask me they look too slick to be involved with Siggy. Got a few good photographs of them if you want to take a look."

  "Yeah, we'll have a look when we're finished here," I said. Then I turned to Louise. "Do you know anything about who's watching your place?"

  She shook her head and her reddish hair momentarily covered her features.

  Harvey stepped in again. "Miss Blake was unaware of the surveillance of her home until I pointed it out to her."

  "I knew something was going on," she offered in an attempt to save face. Apparently there was a tough side to Louise Blake. "I could feel it. As if there were eyes on me everywhere I went. But no, I didn't see anyone. Not that I'd know them anyway. I've never seen this Petoskey."

  "What're your feelings, Harve?" Rink asked.

  Harvey rolled his head on his broad shoulders, turned down the corners of his mouth. "Don't like it one bit, Rink."

  Harvey had my complete agreement. To Louise, I said, "In your letter to Jennifer Telfer you said that you thought John was in some kind of trouble. Was it because of something specific he said?"

  Louise shook her head. "He didn't say anything. That was the problem. What bothered me more was the way he was acting."

  "What do you mean? You said he was frightened."

  "Yeah, he was kind of jumpy. A car would pull up and he'd sneak to the window, peak out a corner of the blinds, that kind of thing. He couldn't sleep too well, either. Tossed and turned all the time, jumped at any noises from outside."

  "Did you ask him what was wrong?"

  "Of course I did. But he wouldn't tell me. Just said he had something on his mind."

  "But you didn't push him about what it was?" I asked.

  "No. I just thought it was to do with him starting a new job. Maybe it was too much for him to handle or something. You know, like the pressure was getting to him?"

  "John started a new job?"

  "So he said. Told me he was doing a bit of driving for a local firm, delivering to customers, that sort of thing. I didn't press him about who it was for. He looked a little embarrassed at first."

  "Why'd he be embarrassed about a driving job?" I asked.

  "Wouldn't you be embarrassed? To end up as a delivery boy's a bit of a comedown, don't you think?"

  "Is that the way you saw it, Louise?"

  Her gaze snapped onto me with power-drill intensity. "That's not at all the way I saw it! What do you think I am?"

  "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I was just wondering if he'd got the notion in his mind that he'd let you down, and that was why he was acting so jumpy around you."

  She exhaled noisily.

  "Maybe he did have it in his mind, but he never mentioned it to me. Anyway, he wasn't jumpy around me; he was jumpy around everything else but me."

  "You said he was acting like he was watching for someone?" I prompted.

  Louise shook out her hair again.

  "Not just like he was watching for someone," she said with a wave of a finger. "More like he was waiting for something to happen."

  "Or something to arrive?" Rink asked.

  "Yes." The momentary anger had gone from her eyes. "John said

  that if anything ever happened to him, you would know what to do, Mr. Hunter. So . . . I mean, do you?"

  I swirled the coffee in my cup, pondering the patterns of froth as if it were a psychic's divining tool. I saw less in the coffee swirls than I already knew. Which wasn't much. Finally, I switched my gaze to her face. My exhalation told her everything. "I haven't seen or heard from John since he left England; I was hoping you'd be able to bring me up to speed on what he'd been up to since coming here."

  Louise's shrug was noncommittal.

  "We just got by. I took a job at a beauty salon. John went from job to job. Nothing startling really. Parking valet. Stacking paint at a warehouse. Fast-food cook." She ticked off the jobs on the fingers of one hand. "Then, most recently, this driving job."

  "But you don't know who for?"

  "No."

  "Was he delivering locally?"

  She shrugged again. "Sometimes he'd be away for a few days, so I guess he got a few long-haul jobs. Don't know where he went, though. He'd phone from a motel or something, but he'd never say where he was. I didn't think to ask. I wasn't really that bothered."

  "You weren't that bothered? Were you having problems with your relationship?"

  Louise looked at me sharply. The power drill on overdrive. "Are you asking if he was seeing someone else?"

  "Was he?"

  "No."

  "How could you tell?"

  "Believe me, a woman knows these kinds of things."

  I thought of Jenny; how she hadn't had a clue about her husband's infidelity. But then again, with the constant money worries, the fear that bad men would turn up and take it from their hides, Jenny prob ably wasn't capa
ble of detecting the subtle signs that Louise was now hinting at. "If there wasn't another woman, was there anything else between you?"

  Louise's lips trembled. I don't know if it was emotion or scorn. Then, to change the subject, she lifted a hand and waved over a waitress.

  "Can I have another coffee?" she asked.

  The waitress refilled her cup, offered more to the rest of us, but we all declined. Louise waited, a manicured fingernail tapping her cup, until the waitress returned to the serving counter. "As you know, John left his wife for me. Not exactly the ideal situation." She glanced around at the three of us, checking for any sign of disapproval. We were like the three wise monkeys. See, hear, and—definitely—say no evil. "Because of that, it wasn't really a good idea to keep in touch with anyone back home. We severed all ties. My family doesn't know where I am. John didn't tell his. There have been so many times that I wanted to pick up the telephone and speak to my mother, but I didn't."