All the Old Bargains

by Benjamin M. Schutz

  I didn’t want to tell her that the injuries they had in mind were from the “freak” tricks, the sadists. I’d had a bellyful of that on my last case.

  “Any mention of using underage girls?”

  “No. I’ve never heard any of the girls mention anything like that.”

  “Do you know anything about Julian? Where he lives? He may be hiding this girl somewhere.”

  “No, but I’ll keep my eyes open. Let me see that picture again. I want to be sure I’ll recognize her if I see her.”

  I gave her the picture and one of my cards. “Call me if you see or hear anything, anytime.” She put the card in her purse. “Don’t carry them around with you. Memorize the face and my number and destroy them. I’m not kidding.”

  “I hear you. I’m not stupid. I’ve done this kind of work before.”

  She sat on the bed and called in to the service to let them know that everything was fine and she needed to be picked up.

  “If you ever have to do this again, just tell the guy your herpes has flared up. Nobody’s going to strip search you to see if you’re lying.”

  She turned away and had the doorknob in her grasp when I said, “By the way, what’s your name, so I can recognize the byline?”

  “The name’s Johnson. Terri Johnson.”

  I reached under the mattress and retrieved my shoulder holster and the rest of my IDs. I dropped the IDs in my coat pocket, shucked the jacket and slipped the holster on. In the mirror I saw Terri Johnson standing in the doorway watching me. She left and I waited for Arnie to return.

  I called Mr. Benson at the work number he gave me. His secretary answered. “Benson Construction Company.”

  “Mr. Benson, please.”

  “He’s not in. May I take a message?”

  “That’s okay. I’ll call back.” Something jabbed at me from my memory but I couldn’t grasp it.

  My thoughts drifted to Samantha out on the streets. A frail bag of flesh and blood walking around that can be taken from me in an instant and there may be nothing I can do about it. Maybe that’s the deal I’ve made with myself: I’d rather be lonely than helpless? Maybe I’d rather not.

  Arnie arrived a couple of hours later. I crossed the room and asked who it was. He said, “Little Bo Peep” and I let him in.

  “Interesting trip, Leo. It was Julian and some big spade with him. I know I’ve seen that guy somewhere before. Real big mother—six foot eight inches or so, about 300 pounds—looked like the Trans America Building on wheels. He moved pretty good. Bullet head, goatee, wraparound shades, lots of bright shinys. Anyone you know?” I nodded no. “Definitely muscle. If brains were dynamite he didn’t look like he could blow his nose. They went from here to a building down on the docks in Olde Towne. Right near the Interarms warehouses. Picked up a couple of boxes marked Film and went out to a little house out near Lorton. Very interesting place. A run-down building that sits on a plateau above the road. Lots of open fields. Woods in the back. Brand new barbed wire fence all the way around. Brand new gate at the driveway with a real good lock. All hooked up to an alarm system. A lot of money for an old shack. He went downstairs in the house, pulled some shades across the windows at the ground level, stayed a couple of minutes and left. Then he went back to the massage parlor. Later on a couple of guys showed up in a van, parked it out back of the parlor and went upstairs. They left after a few minutes carrying one of the boxes. Guess what was in the van?”

  “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?”

  “No. Only one dwarf. Nosey. A lot of very expensive camera equipment, lights and so on. Well, these guys left and then Godzilla and Julian went out to eat. I came back here.”

  “Looks like something’s coming together and I don’t think it’s the Cannes Film Festival.”

  I looked at Arnie sitting on the bed. “Let’s get out of here. I didn’t like myself here.”

  Chapter 15

  We left the motel and drove to Arnie’s house. It’s a bungalow similar to mine. What the real estate people call a “starter home” for the newlyweds. Except that in the baby’s room was a vast collection of weapons from around the world: American handguns; rifles; shotguns; knives; English Calthrops; the Bag’hnak of India, a weapon so fearsome that its mere possession was punishable by death; blowguns from Borneo; German crossbows; Japanese long swords and the kusari-gama or sickle and chain. The house is always well lit and the shades are never up.

  We pulled up silently to the house with the lights out. Arnie surveyed the outside and then proceeded to disarm the front door. We went in and threw our coats over the living room chairs. I checked the time: 6:45. Arnie went into the kitchen to get something to drink. The house was barely furnished. I wandered into the armory, by far the most interesting room. On Arnie’s bulletin board was a single page of paper. It said: Way of the Ronin: Late 20th Century. Below were eight lines:

  (1) Approach all things without memory or desire: The truth lies between.

  (2) Take care in all matters; the least may be the most and this is not given to us to know.

  (3) Readiness is all and is the fruit of diligent practice.

  (4) Knowledge of many things is the sword unseen.

  (5) Above all know one’s self and that of one’s enemies.

  (6) Be discreet in all matters; a ninja of your desires.

  (7) Do not make enemies, let them create themselves.

  (8) In the symphony of life a player of all parts will not be silenced.

  I looked up as I felt Arnie’s presence. I was uncomfortable and felt like a spy. He handed me a glass of Jameson’s on the rocks.

  “What’s this, Arnie?” Casual as bird shit I was.

  “It is what it says it is. It’s what I’ve learned in the last ten years.”

  “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “I’ve just begun to work on it. It seems the right time.”

  I looked back at the list and slowly read each line. “Hell of a path to tread.”

  “It’s the only one that makes any sense to me.”

  “What is a ronin anyway?”

  “They were the masterless warriors, the samurai who were set loose after the rise of the shogunate. Those who could not reorient themselves after the social order they were embedded in had dissolved were a scourge upon the land.” I had never heard Arnie say this much about his past or his thoughts. He seemed uncomfortable with it.

  Arnie turned and walked out of the room. I followed, wondering where in the process Arnie was or wanted to be. We went back to the living room. It was past seven. I called the service. There was only one message. Terri Johnson had called and left her number. I copied it down, hung up and then called her.

  It rang three times. Terri picked it up on the fourth ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Terri Johnson?”

  “Yes.”

  “Leo Haggerty, returning your call.”

  “Yeah, right. I had another call to go out on after I left you. I tried the herpes routine and it worked. Okay, long story short. When I went back to the club I talked to Tony. I told him I had a john with a yen for young girls and that I didn’t turn him on. That he wanted the real thing. Tony said he could get me a movie of a girl—young, blonde, doing it—to show here at the house to turn him on. Said it would be dynamite stuff. Anyway, he said it’d be ready in a few days and he’d let me know. He told me to keep it to myself, that Panczak wasn’t to know about it. Tony wants to be a big deal himself. So I asked him if I could see it and he said I could see them make it if I was nice to him. Christ, he acted like he was taking me to Disney World! He said they’re going to shoot it tomorrow morning, around nine out at a house near Lorton. He’s going to take me out there himself.”

  “Thanks. We’ll see what we can do. There’s a big black guy with Julian. Is he going to be out there?”

  “Yeah, Leroy. He’ll be there. He’s in charge of keeping the peace.”

  “Leroy. What’s his last name?”

&n
bsp; “Dixon, I think. Why?”

  I snickered. “Shit. He was a college all-star with a big mouth who couldn’t cut it in the NFL and here he is enforcer for a vice emperor. I love it, it’s perfect. Listen, we’ve cased the place. I think the shooting room is below ground. We need to get down there easily. Can you make an opening for us? Let the movie get rolling, everybody’ll be occupied, then excuse yourself. Tell them you need a little air. We’ll keep your cover intact but we’ll come back in behind you and get the drop on them. I know what I’m asking you to do, so if you say no, it’s no problem. We’ll just do it another way.”

  There was a long silence between us.

  “I’ll do it. They’ve been eyeing me since I got back to the salon. They may be getting suspicious like you said. I ought to do something to make it look like I’m serious about this outcall stuff. And anyway if they are using this girl, I want to be a part of stopping it.”

  “Listen, thanks. Hang loose when it happens. It could get very nasty. Dixon’s a wacko and I’ve got a guy with me who makes him look like Pope Pius XII.”

  “Okay, just be sure to get the girl out, will you?” It was both query and plea.

  “We will. I’ve got to get to work.”

  “Bye.”

  “What’s our first move?” Arnie said.

  “I call Panczak and clear it with him. I don’t want him thinking he was ripped off and that he needs to set an example. We get Julian and Dixon out from under him and nobody’ll give a shit what happens to them.”

  “Then what?”

  “We stake out the Lorton house overnight, so we’re there when they arrive. I always like to be early to things. You avoid a lot of setups that way. Then wait for our moment and do our thing. Just like I told Terri. When she gives us an opening we take it.”

  I picked up the phone and got Panczak’s number from information.

  “Hello.”

  “Monte Panczak, please.”

  “Who’s calling?”

  “None of your business. Just get Panczak.”

  “Fuck you.” He hung up. I dialed again.

  “Listen, asshole. Somebody’s setting Panczak up for a fall. If he finds out that he’s in the house of many doors because you didn’t put this call through you won’t be able to run far enough. Now get him.” The line was open but silent.

  “Yeah. Who is this?”

  “This Monte Panczak?”

  “Yeah. Who’re you?”

  “Not important. Just consider me a friend. You’ve got some disloyal employees, Monte. They’re running a little action on the side. High risk stuff. The kind they could take a nasty tumble for. Maybe get turned around, plea bargain your ass away.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “They’ve got something of mine. I want it back.”

  “So what do you want with me?”

  “Just to let you know that I’ll be moving against these people and that it has nothing to do with you. I just want what’s mine. What you do afterward with them is up to you. I thought you might appreciate the warning. I’ll be handing them to you on a platter. You can go in and clear it up right away. No expensive outside talent needed to do the work. The boys in New York never have to know. Just sit tight and keep your ears open. You won’t be able to miss it. What do you say?”

  Panczak was silent a while, then said, “I’ll give you forty-eight hours to get back what you want. Then I clean house. When I clean house I don’t give anything away. What I don’t keep I burn. If you’re too close when I set the fire that’s your problem. You got forty-eight hours from now. And, friend, you’d best not be fuckin’ with me. I’ve got a short fuse and a long memory.”

  We began to prepare for our camping trip. Arnie called the weather to get the temperature, chance of rain and sky conditions. Then he looked up the moon’s status. We each made up a packing list. Arnie dressed quickly and then assembled the items on his list: ski masks, surgical gloves, his mummy bag, a good shovel, a sawed-off Remington 870 with magazine extension. Then we went to my house. I dressed and then packed a Thermos, trail mix and jerky, some wire cutters, my mummy bag, binoculars and a roll of Day-Glo tape. We were dressed all in flat black: black wrestling shoes, black wool socks, black cotton pants, black turtleneck sweaters. I felt the Colt .45 under my arm and thought: Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil because I’m armed to the teeth, goddammit. I slipped my Gerber knife into the small of my back and put the Beretta Jetfire on my ankle. Arnie wore a belt with a flat black clasp. He moved to adjust it and then in a single sweeping motion the clasp was off and a four-inch dagger extended from a ring over his two middle fingers. We took no wallets, only cash taped to our ankles.

  As we were walking out of my house I asked him, “What’s the weather gonna be?”

  “Clear skies, no moon, zero percent chance of rain, slight wind East South East, temperature overnight upper fifties, tomorrow eighties. Perfect. God is smiling. Good night for a mission. Just like old times. Let’s go.”

  I locked up and went to Arnie’s old Chevelle, got into it and we headed into the night.

  Chapter 16

  We drove in silence for a while. His last comment made me think of Vietman. A place I’d never been to and one Arnie had never entirely left. I balanced the impulse to talk with my wish to defer to his silence. He was sorting through larger ruins than I. Finally he spoke as we got to an unlit intersection.

  “That’s the road there. It runs alongside the woods above the house. If we go east we can catch Hooes Road into Springfield or we can go west onto Ox Road into Burke. We’ll need to disable their car before we go in so we don’t need to worry about pursuit.”

  I nodded. He was in his element.

  We cruised slowly down the road from one end to the other. Arnie and I memorizing its twists and turns. Arnie found a place where the woods were thinnest and we parked off on the side of the road and emptied out our gear and left the car unlocked. We hiked down into the woods to where we had a clear view of the house. It was the first rule of terrain: take the high ground.

  Arnie said, “Let’s dig in and set up.”

  We quickly dug two shallow holes to sleep in, put our bags in them along with guns, wire cutters and the shovel and covered them with leaves and dirt. We hung the food bag from a nearby tree. Arnie put strips of Day-Glo tape on a string of trees from the fence to the road. We went down to the fence and inspected it.

  “We’ll cut it when they disarm it. Then run a dummy wire around to complete the circuit. I’ll make the hole wide enough for two to go through at once. If you’re dragging the kid, you won’t have to carry her through.”

  “Fine.”

  “After we get ready to go down, we clean up our gear and put it by a marked tree. I’ll get it on the way back if I can. I don’t want to lose that shit if I don’t have to.” He shrugged. “And anyway leaving materiel behind is lousy form.”

  Arnie and I went back up the hills and slipped into our sleeping bags. As I spread the dirt and leaves over me, I thought, if this doesn’t work out this could be my grave I’m lying in. I folded my arms across my chest with my .45 in my left hand. As I lay there I thought of Colonel Colt’s lullaby: “When danger threatens fear no man of any size, just call on me and I will equalize.” I didn’t sleep any better.

  “We’ll sleep in four hour shifts, okay?”

  We lay in silence for a while. I was supposed to sleep first, but I couldn’t. “Arnie, whatcha thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking it’s been over ten years since I lay down in a hole in the ground and thought about killing somebody.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a first for me,” I said.

  We got quiet again. The wind moved slowly through the trees, rustling the leaves. Every now and then a bird called out. I looked up at the stars. The night was cool, the air crisp, the sky clear, only I was muddled. I smelled the dirt and leaves on my chest, a faint scent of rot. Now I lay me down to sl
eep. I should be on a blanket with Samantha, I thought, celebrating life and love.

  I’d used Arnie’s talents a number of times since I’d met him but we had never talked about where he’d learned them. Vietnam had long sufficed as a one word answer. There was an unspoken regard between us, perhaps friendship, perhaps not. The official party line was that Arnie had skills I could use and I provided occasions for him to hone those skills. I suspected that we avoided talking about the war because the gap between warrior and protestor threatened our fragile alliance. I decided that I could no longer simply use his skills without at least being willing to hear how he’d learned them and at what price. Maybe he didn’t care if I knew or what I thought. Maybe there was no common ground possible between those who went and those who did not. I had to know.

  “What was it like for you over there?” I asked.

  “What’s to say? War is hell, plain and simple.”

  “Why’d you go?”

  “Oh, I knew I couldn’t go to jail. I’d have gone crazy being locked up and I guess I just couldn’t imagine life in Canada forever. Christ, I was only eighteen. I guess I thought one year in Nam and I’d be free. Canada was exile forever. Ain’t that a kick in the ass. Believe me, if I’d had a better imagination I’d have taken Canada.”

  “Where’d you serve?”

  “Up country. I was a Green Beret—”

  “You don’t sound like you were gung-ho. How’d you become a Green Beret?”

  “I was gung-ho on staying alive, that’s why I became a Green Beret. I was scared shitless I was gonna die, so I wanted to be the best goddamned soldier possible so I’d live and they’d die. If I was gonna go over, I was gonna come back.”

  “I wasn’t there.” Officially I fucked up my knee playing ball so I was 4-F. But my “Toronto in Springtime” brochures were well thumbed before I donated my ligaments to the alumni association.

  “I know. When I told you I’d been in Nam you never asked what unit I served in and when. That’s the first thing another Vet wants to know: where were you and when were you there.”

  I knew I wanted to ask Arnie more. It was like interrogating the survivor of any disaster asking, “What was it like? How do you go on living now?” Part of me felt like a leech. What I really wanted to know was that I’d been right not to go. That it wasn’t simply cowardice. Maybe that’s what the last ten years on the streets had been about.