Whistler's Angel

by John R. Maxim

  Within moments, a fuel truck had appeared in the distance. As it neared, it almost seemed as if no one was driving. All that showed above the dash was a crescent of red hair and perhaps an inch or two of Carla’s forehead.

  As Carla approached, she downshifted and slowed, nearly stripping the unfamiliar gears of the truck. She drove it past them to an opening in the center divider, made a U-turn and pulled in behind them. She climbed out of its cab as Whistler stepped from the Taurus. Carla looked even smaller than he had remembered her. He saw that her left eye was reddened and swollen. She was missing one of her shoes.

  She said, “Hello, Adam. You’ve filled out. You’re very handsome.” She stepped around him and walked to the passenger’s side window. She said, “And this is Claudia? Hello, Claudia. I’m Carla.”

  Whistler asked her, “Carla, do you know where they are?”

  She answered, “Uh-huh,” without looking at him. She said to Claudia, while extending her hand, “I’m so glad to meet you. I’ve been hearing good things. I hope we can talk later on.”

  Claudia took her hand and she returned Carla’s smile, but she didn’t seem to know what to make of this woman. Neither, for that matter, did Whistler. First we have Molly sounding nothing like Molly. Now here’s Carla sounding nothing like Carla.

  Carla gestured toward the tote at Claudia’s feet. “What’s bulging? Weapons? What did you bring?”

  Claudia lifted the sail bag to show the canvas tote’s contents. She said, “Just these. From the boat.”

  “So you do work with guns? Not just knives? So do I.”

  Whistler said, “She does not work with anything, Carla. You’ve got the wrong idea about Claudia.”

  Carla gave him a glance, an if-you-say-so sort of glance, and returned her attention to the weapons. She said, “The sweeper will be good. What’s that other one, an Ingram?”

  “Um…yes, that’s an Ingram Mac-10.”

  Carla made a face. She seemed critical of the choice. She said, “You know what’s much better? You should try the new Calico. It’s the one with the top-mounted helical feed. Fifty round magazine. Never jams.”

  “I…really only know about these.”

  “These are okay for Adam. Too much kick for a woman. But I hear you’re like me. You prefer to work close.”

  “Carla,” said Whistler, “I’ll say it again…”

  “Who taught you how to throw? I hear you’re real good.”

  “She knows how to throw a baseball, Carla. That’s all.”

  Again, she ignored him. She gestured toward the fuel truck. “My weapon’s in the truck. Come back and I’ll show you. A helical feed is sort of a pod. The advantage…”

  Oh, for Pete’s sake, thought Whistler. “Carla, stop it,” he said.

  “Stop what? And say please to your elders.”

  “Please stop with the guns and please answer my question.”

  She replied, “I did. I said I know where they are.”

  “Where they are exactly? This minute? How could you?”

  “A little bird told me.”

  He said, “Carla, cut the games.”

  At this, she winked at Claudia. “Is he always this rude?”

  “Carla, I’d appreciate an answer myself.”

  She said, “Both of you, relax. They’re not going anywhere. They’re having a problem with their cars. We’ve got time.”

  She turned back to Claudia and she gave her a wink. She said, “You see? Birds talk to me, too. Except my bird was only Felix Aubrey’s co-pilot. Is it true that you can talk to the other kind? Gotta see that. My boyfriend, Viktor, met the white light once himself, but you made out better than he did.”

  The bird thing, thought Whistler. His father must have told Bannerman. So much for his trying to squelch it. And he now understood how Carla’s eye became swollen and how she’d lost one of her shoes. Aubrey’s co-pilot. She’d waylaid him somehow. Whistler moved a few steps away to let these two have their one-sided chat. Let them kill a few more minutes getting acquainted until Billy or John Waldo can get up here.

  It struck Whistler that he’d heard Carla speak, in two minutes, more words than he’d ever heard her utter all told. And she’d smiled. He had rarely seen a smile on Carla’s face. And he had certainly never seen any sign that she grasped the concept of a good first impression. This must be a new Carla, reinvented for Claudia. She was trying to get Claudia to like her.

  Claudia’s mind, however, wasn’t on making friends. She asked Carla, “Have you actually seen them?”

  “I saw the three who you two are hunting. They were in an old heap of a Pontiac?”

  “That’s them.”

  “Well, right now their car’s even more of a heap because they tried to get it into two-car garage without making room for it first. It’s still sitting ass-out with its exhaust pipe ripped off and it’s jammed against a van that was already in there.”

  Whistler asked, “A white Dodge with Ohio plates?”

  She nodded. “That’s the one. How did you know?”

  “A little bird told me. Carla, where is this house?”

  She gestured with her thumb. “Twenty-two Lagoon Road. Blue house, black shutters, can’t miss it with those cars. Are you ready to go back there and take them?”

  “What about Aubrey? Did you see Felix Aubrey?”

  She said, “No, but he’s around. They came in a black Lincoln. They don’t know it yet, but I totaled the Lincoln. They’re running real low on transportation.” As she said this, she gestured toward the fuel truck’s front bumper. Whistler saw that the bumper was twisted and gauged. It was streaked with smears of black paint.

  Claudia had stepped out of the Taurus. She asked Carla, “Did you see a woman with them?”

  “In the Pontiac? What woman?”

  “Her name is Leslie. She’s a friend. They dragged her into their car. The big one, Lockwood, hit her with his gun.”

  Carla said to Whistler, “Lockwood’s way overdue.” She said to Claudia, “All I saw were the heads of three men, but if he hit her she would have been down on the floor.”

  “You didn’t see them pull her out when they got to that garage?”

  “I had to stay back. I didn’t see them unload. Their car was already hung up when I drove past.” She said to Whistler, “So this Leslie’s in the house?”

  “They had no time to dump her. She must be.”

  Carla seemed annoyed. Whistler thought he knew why. She would have preferred to go back there and blast anything that moves. Now she’d have to pick her shots. Avoid hitting Leslie. It would be harder for her to get chummy with Claudia if she were to blow Leslie’s head off.

  She said, “Claudia, get your sweeper. You’re riding with me.”

  Whistler said, “Not a chance. We wait here.”

  “Wait for what?” asked Carla. “Her friend is in trouble. We take care of our friends, am I right?”

  Carla, as she said this, reached in for the shotgun. She checked its action as she walked to the fuel truck. She said to Whistler, “You can have the Ingram.” She said to Claudia, “He’ll come with us. Hop in.”

  Whistler reached to take Claudia’s arm. He said, “You’re not going anywhere with Carla. You’re staying.”

  “Adam, I can’t. And you can’t either. Let’s go.”

  Carla said, “Adam, you and I will hit the house. Claudia stays in the truck. She just covers. How’s that?”

  “No one hits the house, damn it. Call Molly. Right now.”

  “Waste of time, Adam. What for?”

  “Because for one thing, this area is crawling with police. Molly’s right. We should let them handle this.”

  “What, a hostage situation? That’ll take them a week. Adam, we can do it. Sixty seconds in and out.”

  Whistler pulled out his cell phone. “We wait.”

  “Then okay, but not here. You want to call them? Go ahead. In the meantime, someone has to watch the house. Let’s get over there.”
/>   Claudia said, “Adam, she right. We should be there.”

  “He knows we should,” said Carla. “Hop in and let’s roll.”

  Whistler muttered a curse. “We just cover. Agreed? And Claudia stays in the truck.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I’ll scout out the house. You stay with her. Agreed?”

  “We’ll work out the details when we get there.”

  While Carla had gone looking for Whistler’s beige Taurus, Arnold Kaplan was sitting in the green Pontiac thinking this is how people get heart attacks. He could hardly believe what just happened.

  In front of him, he was looking at daylight because half of the garage’s rear wall was now gone and that Jet Ski was in the back yard. And Lockwood just stands there. He’s staring at the hole and he’s cursing. Behind Kaplan, he was also looking at daylight because the car was part out and part in. He tried backing up. The car was stuck on the trailer. It was wedged against the van. Both cars were now visible from the street.

  The only good news was that Crow was out cold. Lockwood had clipped him some good ones. The girl was crying a little; she was scared half to death. And she was still struggling, but she couldn’t get up because Crow had gone flaccid on top of her. He climbed out of the car and almost fell as he did so. He had tangled one foot in a blue plastic tarp that had probably covered the Jet Ski.

  He said, “Vern…this tarp. Let’s hang up this tarp.”

  Lockwood snarled, “Who taught you how to drive?”

  You did, you schmuck. You screamed at me to get in here while I’m still busy fighting off Crow. But Kaplan didn’t say that. He said, “I’m very remorseful. Now we need to hang up this fucking tarp.”

  “Over where? Oh, the door? Yeah, we should. Good idea.”

  “Look around where you’re standing. You see any tools? Look for a hammer and nails.”

  He said, “The tools are mostly all over the lawn. No, wait. There’s a

  staple gun. I’ll get it.”

  Kaplan watched as Lockwood stepped out through the hole. He retrieved the stapler and returned with it. Kaplan gathered the tarp. It seemed almost big enough. It could mostly cover the whole garage door. From the street it would look like repair work.

  He said to Lockwood, “You hang it. I can’t reach high enough. Meanwhile, I’ll get these two inside.”

  “You sure you can handle them?”

  “Crow’s asleep. And fuck you.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Lockwood. “Let’s see how asleep.”

  At this, Lockwood squeezed between the Pontiac and the van. He opened the right rear door about a foot, which was all the space the van gave it. He reached in with the stapler and found Crow’s ass. He snapped a staple in each of Crow’s cheeks.

  Crow never moved. Lockwood said, “He’s still gone. Drag him out on your side. You got room?”

  “I got room. I’ll take the girl inside first.”

  “Drag him out. I can watch him while I hang.”

  “You’ll bring him in?”

  “I’ll bring him. Two minutes. Go ahead.”

  Now and then, thought Kaplan, Lockwood does a good thing. That move with the stapler was one of them. Kaplan opened the rear left door of the Pontiac. He reached in and seized Crow by one arm. He started pulling.

  He said, “Leslie? Push with me. Give me a hand.”

  He heard her swallow. She stammered, “Wh…what?”

  “The guy’s stuck. Help me here. You like him being on you?”

  “He’s drooling on me. Get him off me.”

  “So push.”

  “Did you mean what you said about not hurting me?”

  Kaplan leaned closer. He kept his voice low. “Take my word. Here’s the thing, though. You gotta behave. You gotta do exactly what I tell you.”

  “Like…what?”

  He reached for a towel that was clipped to Crow’s golf bag. A big one, orange, from the Bengals again. Kaplan yanked it free of its hook and he jammed it between Crow’s mouth and her head.

  He said, “I need you to cover your face with that towel. Then I’ll wrap it with some of Crow’s duct tape. Also I have to tape up your hands. After that, I’ll take you inside.”

  “Why do you have to cover my face?”

  “Because the less you see of me, the better for me. Fair enough? Shut up and indulge me.”

  “…Okay.”

  “I’ll steer you into a bedroom, but it’s just to the closet. I’m not going to touch you in any bad way. That’s a promise. Are you with me so far?”

  “I…I guess.”

  Okay, thought Kaplan. So far, this is progress. Now we try to establish some reasonable doubt in case she’s ever called as a witness, God forbid.

  He said, “I’m going to leave you because I have to go. After that, you might hear things. This is after I’m gone. What you’ll hear won’t be me because I’m gone by that time. Is that clear in your head? It won’t be me.”

  A little klutzy, thought Kaplan, but maybe she’ll buy it. Leslie, however, had concerns of her own. She asked, “You mean you’re leaving me with these two?”

  “They’ll be otherwise occupied. They won’t hurt you, believe me. In maybe two hours, I’ll call your cop friend and tell him where he can find you. Before that, however, you must not make a sound. That’s no matter what you hear going on.”

  “Arnie…your name’s Arnie?”

  “I got lots of names.”

  “Can’t you tell me what’s going to happen?”

  “Some people are coming. They’re not very nice. You don’t want them to know that you’re here, so be quiet. Myself, I don’t wish to be here when they come.”

  “Well, I don’t either, damn it. Take me with you.”

  “Leslie…this is my neck I’m trying to save. I’ll help you, but I can’t have you fingering me. This is the best I can offer.”

  “And you swear that you didn’t hurt Adam or Claudia?”

  “Would I be talking like this if I did?”

  “I…guess not.”

  “So push. Keep your eyes shut and push.”

  Felix Aubrey, taking care not to move the sheer curtains, had been watching through the kitchen’s side window. He’d seen Lockwood step through what was once the garage wall and retrieve some chrome-plated tool from the yard. He called to Briggs in a whisper, “What on earth are they doing?”

  Briggs answered, “I don’t know. They’re in there talking. I can’t hear.”

  A few seconds later, Briggs said in a hush, “I see Lockwood out front. He’s got this big tarp. I think he’s hanging it over the garage.”

  “To what purpose?”

  “Hide the cars, I guess. It figures they’re hot.”

  And therefore a sensible measure, thought Aubrey, so it must have been Kaplan’s idea. And yet Kaplan, we fear, had allowed Vernon Lockwood to make good his threat against Whistler and the girl. Perhaps he wasn’t able to stop him.

  Aubrey asked Briggs, “Any sign of the girl?”

  Briggs shrugged with his hands and shook his head.

  “Or of Kaplan and Crow?”

  Briggs whispered, “Still in the garage. I hear grunting. I heard Lockwood say he’s going to bring Crow.”

  “Make no move until all four are inside. Once they are, do not dawdle, Mr. Briggs. Do your work.”

  “I hear them. They’re coming. Get back.”

  THIRTY SIX

  Whistler, in the Taurus, had followed the tank truck as it wound through North Forest beach. He had thumbed Molly’s number on his cell phone. She answered. He told her that they were on their way to the house. He was in no mood to explain how it happened that Claudia was now riding with Carla. Nor did Molly bother asking. Her response was a sigh. She asked him, “What’s that address?”

  Having taken it, she said, “And you say they have no vehicles?”

  “They’re stranded according to Carla.”

  “Adam, stay well back. I’m going to call the police.”
<
br />   “Don’t do that just yet. Let us get in place first. We can block off both ends of the street.”

  “Are you sure you have Carla under control?”

  “Carla’s the least of my worries right now. I need to see that Claudia’s kept out of this.”

  “Well, I worry about Carla. I know how she is. Carla tries to be non-lethal these days. Did you know that?”

  “Non-lethal? With a Calico? How does one manage that?”

  “She might try not to kill them, but she will shoot to maim. That Calico is better than a chain saw. You have no idea of the mess she can make. Let me call the police and be done with it.”

  “Hold off until I can scout out that house. I’d like to get Leslie out first if I can. Let me see how close I can get.”

  “Adam…you are not to put yourself at risk either. There’s more at stake here than you know.”

  “You’ll explain that to me, won’t you? One of these days?”

  “Your father will explain it when he gets here this evening.”

  An exasperated growl. “We’re almost there, Molly.”

  “Then you’re close enough. I’m calling the police.”

  “No, don’t. I need ten minutes.”

  “I’m calling right now. Goodbye, Adam.”

  Whistler put the phone aside and stepped on the gas. He was already on Lagoon Road. He pulled around and in front of the Texaco truck and signaled for it to pull over. He got out and told Carla what Molly had said. He repeated that Carla was to cover, nothing more. She was to stop this truck a full hundred yards short of the house they were in.

  She pointed. “That’s it. Two blocks up on your left. The one just this side of that privacy fence.”

  He looked and nodded. He said, “I’ll take that end. The fence is good cover. It might let me get close enough to look in some windows. I’ll try to see where they’re holding Leslie.”

  Carla said, “Say you spot her. Then what? You go in?”

  “No, I don’t. You don’t either. We both wait for the police.”

  “Adam…”

  “No, Carla. Look into my eyes. Do I look like I’m playing games with you now?”