Saving Farley's Bog

by Don Sawyer

  Stitch opened the door wider. “I’m working for your wife, Mr. Maxwell. She is worried sick about you.”

  Maxwell remained leaning against the wall inside the door. He opened his eyes and looked at Stitch. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “Why don’t we just have a chat, Mr. Maxwell.” Stitch motioned to a picnic table under some trees nearby. “Let’s just sit down and we can talk about what happened. No pressure.”

  Maxwell took a deep, shuddering breath. He stood up straight and nodded. “I’ll tell my girlfriend.”

  Stitch shook his head. “I don’t think Didi should know I’m here right now.”

  Maxwell looked startled. “How do you know about Didi?”

  “Like I said, Mr. Maxwell, I’m a detective. Where is Didi?”

  “She’s taking a nap on the front porch. I, uh. I think she had a few too many gin and tonics.”

  “I see. Then no reason to disturb her.”

  Maxwell nodded and sighed deeply. He walked out the doorway and toward the picnic table. Stitch knew Maxwell was thin from the pictures. But now he looked scrawny and bent like an old man. He looked more like 70 than his real age of 40.

  Stitch quietly shut the front door and followed Maxwell to the table. Stitch sat down across the table from him. Maxwell had his elbows on the table. His hands covered his face.

  “Mr. Maxwell,” Stitch began.

  “Bob,” Maxwell said between his hands. “Call me Bob.”

  “Bob, your wife asked me to give you this.” Stitch pulled out a small brown envelope from the inside pocket of his blue nylon windbreaker.

  “Do you know what’s in it?”

  “No. That is between you and her.”

  Maxwell slowly tore the top of the envelope open. He pulled out a letter handwritten on a piece of lined paper. As he did, a photograph fell out onto the table. Maxwell picked it up. Then he began to sob uncontrollably. The picture fell from his trembling hands. Stitch saw it was a picture of Molly and their two kids taken at Christmas. The little boy was smiling and waving at the camera. Their 10-year-old daughter held a puppy and grinned. Molly sat in a chair between them and smiled happily. It was clear that Maxwell was the photographer.

  Maxwell read the letter slowly. Then he carefully refolded it and slid it back into the envelope. He took the picture and looked at if for several seconds. He slid it into his shirt pocket.

  Maxwell stared at the table top. “You must think I’m a real shit.”

  “I’m not here to judge, Bob. People get tangled up in all kinds of situations. Good people. I just try to make sure people who need to talk to each other have the chance to do it.”

  Maxwell sighed and leaned back. He stared blankly at the pines over his head. “I don’t know how I got myself into this. Just a few months ago I was happy, successful. And now look at me. Blackmailed. On the run. Stuck in some shack in the middle of nowhere….” Maxwell’s voice trailed off and he looked at Stitch. “How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Sounds like you had some help. You mentioned blackmail.”

  Maxwell’s face suddenly became wary. “I don’t think I should get into it. Too dangerous. For everyone.” He sighed deeply again. “I’m so isolated. Thank God for Didi.”

  “This is Didi Anderson?”

  Maxwell looked surprised. “No, no. My girlfriend. Didi Rose. I thought you knew about us?”

  “Maybe more than you do. Didi Rose is an alias for Didi Anderson. Ms. Anderson has ties with the mob. She used the name Didi Rose when she worked as a stripper.”

  Maxwell’s face screwed up in shock and disbelief. “No,” he said firmly. “You’ve got the wrong person. Didi was a secretary. For a lawyer.” He sat upright. “She was certainly no stripper.”

  Stitch’s face remained open and noncommittal. “I see. So how did you meet Ms. Rose?”

  For the first time, Maxwell gave a little laugh. “A real coincidence, actually. We literally bumped into each other. I was driving to the pub after work. And Didi accidentally ran into me at a stop sign.” He smiled. “Poor thing. She was so upset.” He looked at Stitch. “Still can’t drive worth beans.”

  “What happened then?”

  “After she hit me?”

  “Yeah.”

  Maxwell thought for a moment. “She got out of the car, all apologetic. She kept telling me how sorry she was.”

  “What was she wearing?”

  Maxwell chuckled a little self-consciously. “This beautiful yellow silk tank top.” He looked up at Stitch. “Really clingy. And cut-offs. I couldn’t help notice how gorgeous she was.”

  Stitch nodded. “Tank top and cut offs. Just what I’d expect a legal secretary to wear to work.”

  A look of uncertainty crept into Maxwell’s eyes. “It’s wasn’t like that at all. She was on her day off.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You aren’t suggesting she hit me intentionally?”

  Stitch said nothing. “What happened from there?”

  Maxwell looked back down at the table. “I don’t know. One thing led to another. When we collided she hurt her neck. She was afraid to drive. She asked me to take her back to her apartment.”

  “Which was conveniently nearby.”

  “Well, yes…Yes, it was.”

  “And then?”

  Maxwell hesitated. “She was in such pain. She asked me to massage her neck. She, uh, she took her top off so I could work on her back.” He looked back at Stitch. “Look, Mr. Robinson. I know what this looks like. But Didi isn’t that kind of person. She’s caring and giving.” He hesitated. “My life seemed ideal to outsiders. Good accounting business. City councillor. Perfect wife and kids. But it wasn’t all milk and honey.”

  Maxwell hesitated again. “My wife and I had drifted off in different directions. She was into her charity work and gardening. Her soccer mom role. She hated politics. I just dropped off her radar screen. We hadn’t slept together for months.” Maxwell’s gaunt face had settled into lines of sadness. “I found love where I could.”

  “Tell me about the blackmail,” Stitch repeated.

  Maxwell seemed lost in thought. “That was the worst. How they got those pictures of Didi and me I’ll never know. They threatened to give them to the press. To my wife.” Maxwell looked up. “Even make sure my kids saw them. Can you imagine? What kind of people would do that?”

  “Ruthless ones. Who were they?”

  Maxwell shrugged. “Only saw two of them. One said he was a lawyer. He came to my office with the pictures. He never said who he was or who he represented. But I only had to do one thing to keep him from releasing the pictures.”

  “Change your vote on the shopping centre rezoning.”

  Maxwell nodded miserably. “But they were very generous,” he said sarcastically. “They would also give me $100,000. A new identity. I could start over with Didi. All I had to do was change my vote. Oh, and disappear.”

  “Which brought you here.”

  “Yeah. Didi had vacationed here. She rented the place. We were going to hide here until we decided where we wanted to go permanently.”

  “Swell girl.”

  Maxwell looked up sharply. “Don’t try to run her down. She’s sweet. She stood by me through all of this. She was so upset about the pictures. They had obviously been following me. And for them to catch us in bed in her apartment. She was devastated.”

  “I’m sure she was.” Stitch leaned across the table. “Mr. Maxwell, you cannot keep running. Sooner or later you will be found again. If you’re lucky.”

  Maxwell looked puzzled. “If I’m lucky?”

  Stitch looked directly into Maxwell’s watery blue eyes. “Think about it, Mr. Maxwell. These people are willing to bribe and blackmail you. Do you really think they’d hesitate to have you killed? If they t
hink you pose any threat to them, you’re a dead man. Guaranteed. No Didi. No family.”

  The full weight of Stitch’s words seemed to push Maxwell’s shoulders even lower. He stared miserably to one side. “So what can I do?”

  “Your only option is to come back and tell the whole story. I know lots of good lawyers. So far you haven’t done much that is illegal. Possibly some minor corruption charges. But once you come back and tell the story, they’re on the defensive. Not you. Let them spread the pictures. Embarrassing, but at least you’re not dead. And then the police go after them. Blackmail and bribery are illegal. Plus, I have a feeling about this.”

  “Feeling?”

  “Yeah. This is big. There’s a lot of money flying around. Venam may be ruthless, but I’ve never heard of them resorting to blackmail.”

  “What do you think’s going on?”

  Stitch shook his head slowly. “Not sure. But if you come back with me we’ll get to the bottom of it. Before anyone else gets hurt.”

  “C..come back? To Mapleton?”

  “Yeah. This afternoon. Right now. I can protect you while you’re with me. Make sure you get into the safety of police custody. Right now you’re a sitting duck. Especially if they know I’ve found you. Is there anyone else here?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Are you ready? Go back and face the music. Maybe you can rebuild your family. Maybe not. But if you don’t go back, you’re in hiding for the rest of your life. Pretending to be someone else. Always afraid they will decide to shut you up permanently. Wondering if that guy walking toward you in the black hoody has a gun in his pocket. A gun aimed at you. And what happens when the money dries up? What do you do then?”

  Maxwell shook his head despondently. “Between a rock and a hard place,” he muttered.

  Stitch reached over the table. He pulled the photo from Maxwell’s pocket. “Look at this, Bob.” Maxwell lifted his head. “These look like great kids. They deserve a future. A future with a father.”

  Tears welled in Maxwell’s eyes again. He sat silent for several seconds. “OK,” he whispered at last. “I’ll go back.”

  Stitch breathed deeply and sat up straight.

  “But,” Maxwell went on. “Not until tomorrow morning.”

  Stitch’s face tensed. “That’s a bad idea. You don’t know if they are watching you. If you leave now, we can be back in Canada tonight. You’ll be safe. When we get to Mapleton I’ll arrange protection.”

  Maxwell shook his head slowly. “You don’t understand, Stitch. I love her. Didi. Maybe for the first time, I’m in love. I can’t just run out on her.” He looked up. “Give me one more night. I know you’re wrong about her. But I promise I’ll say nothing just in case.”

  Stitch considered grabbing the man and wrestling him into the Rav. But he’d yell. That would bring Didi. Who knew what would happen then? Anyway, he could hardly get Maxwell across the border tied up and gagged.

  Stitch sighed. “I think this is a bad idea. I don’t believe you’ll run. You know I’ll find you. And you know you can’t live forever on the lam. But if the word gets out I’ve been here, you may not be alive tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll take that chance. That’s the deal.”

  Stitch shrugged. He didn’t like it. But he had no choice. “OK. I will be here at 7:00 in the morning. Sharp. What are you going to tell Didi?”

  “That the real estate agent contacted me. He wanted to take me fishing on the river. I’ll walk out only with the clothes I’m wearing. She’ll have no reason to be suspicious.”

  Stitch leaned back and looked high in the sky. “I hope not, Mr. Maxwell. For your sake.”

  He got up off the seat and walked slowly back to the car. “Seven sharp,” he repeated. He got into the Rav and drove quietly back up the long sandy drive to the road above.

  CHAPTER 8

  Conversation with Daffy

  Stitch got a room at a Holiday Inn out on the highway. When he got into his room he checked his BlackBerry for Daffy’s message. Hate these things, it started out. These stupid little keys drive me crazy. Stitch thought about Daffy’s huge hands and thick fingers. He laughed aloud as he imagined Daffy trying to punch out a message. It’s a wonder, Stitch thought, the phone hadn’t been thrown across the room.

  We’re desperately trying to hold them off. 40 or 50 high school kids came this pm. They pitched tents in the road for the night. Gotta love these kids, eh? Young. Not afraid to stand up for what they believe. Like we used to be.

  Also using all my sources to see if there is a legal loophole. Found something odd. Venam’s account suddenly showed a $4.5m deposit a few months ago. Can’t seem to find out where it came from. Very hush hush. I got it from inside the bank. Might be money ludri, oh damn these things, laundering. Have you got anything for me?

  Beatrice

  Stitch smiled and hit Daffy’s number on his BlackBerry.

  “Stitch!” Daffy yelled. Stitch could hear exhaustion and hope in Daffy’s voice. “Cripes, I thought you were never going to call. What the hell’s up?”

  “I’ve been on the go all day. Just opened your message.” Stitch paused for a moment to let Daffy calm down. “I’ve got a bit of good news. Bit of bad. Which do you want first?”

  Stitch heard Daffy sigh at the other end. “After a day like this, give me the good first.”

  “I found Maxwell. Talked to him. He’s agreed to return to Mapleton.”

  “That’s great!” Daffy roared at the other end. “Is he willing to talk?”

  “Yeah, he says he is. They really did a number on him. Set him up with a broad. Then they got pictures of them in bed.”

  “Blackmail.”

  “Yeah, but then they sweetened the pot. They said they’d give him $100,000 to keep quiet.”

  Duffy whistled quietly. “Wow. The old carrot and stick trick, eh? But that’s great, Stitch. With his statement, I can get an interim injunction. I can show he changed his vote because of bribery. That’s a criminal offence. In court we’ll have to prove bribery. But right now all we need is his word. That will stop the bulldozers. That’s the main thing.”

  “Then there’s the bad news.”

  “What could be bad about this?”

  “Maxwell’s not with me. He refused to return today. Said he wanted one more night with his girlfriend.”

  “OK,” Daffy said. “That’s not so bad. You’ll be here tomorrow afternoon if you get an early start. I can hold them off until then. I’ll set up a press conference.”

  “You’re assuming Maxwell makes it back.”

  Daffy’s voice went flat. “You’re afraid he’s going to run.”

  “I don’t think so. He’s pretty shaken up. I’m mainly afraid Didi Rose gets wind and calls in the mob.”

  “Hit?”

  “Possible. I tried to tell him Didi was in on it. Don’t think he believed me. But he said he’d be cautious.”

  “Lord,” Daffy groaned. “Without him we’ve got no basis for an injunction.”

  “Cripes, Duffy,” Stitch said in irritation. “It’s not all about your damned swamp. Without Maxwell, his kids have no father. His wife has no husband!”

  “OK, Stitch. Take it easy. You’re right. I just get caught up in things. But this is a critical fight. We have to win this one. If we don’t, a crucial part of the entire basin ecosystem will be lost forever.”

  Stitch took a deep breath. “I know you’re just focused. And I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

  “You too, eh? I spent the last 12 hours bailing people out at the courthouse. That was after I got bailed out yesterday, of course.”

  “My lawyer the jailbird,” Stitch chuckled. “Listen, if worse comes to worst, would a recording help?”

  “A recording?” Daffy asked. “
Of what?”

  “Of Bob Maxwell admitting he was bribed to change his vote. What else?”

  There was silence at the other end. “You mean you have his confession on tape?”

  “Yeah. Well, I have our whole conversation recorded. Not on tape. It’s one of those dinky little ballpoint pen recorders.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Stitch!” Daffy yelled. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Well, you never asked. Yeah, I record every interview I have with a client. Or a client’s ex. But I didn’t know if a recording would stand up in court.”

  “It may or may not. But it should be enough to get a judge to grant an interim injunction.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Stitch said quietly.

  “Amen. Listen, couldn’t you stake his place out?”

  “I thought about it. But if it’s a hit, there’s nothing I can do. Two guys armed to the teeth drive in. Bang. They’re gone. If he runs, which I doubt, I’ve got no authority to pull him over. I’d just have to watch as he drove off. I’d rather trust his judgment and get a decent night’s sleep. Not make anyone nervous by hanging around. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow.”

  “Right. Listen, partner. I really appreciate this.”

  “Remember, I’m working for Molly Maxwell. She takes priority here. And none of this gets out until you get the go ahead. Right?”

  “Got it. I understand client confidentiality.”

  “So you understand that I’m on thin ice here. Could probably lose my licence.”

  “OK, champ. My lips are sealed.”

  Stitch pushed the red off button and slipped the Blackberry back into its holster on his belt.

  Stitch had been starving when he got to the hotel. The only restaurants he had seen were a string of fast food joints lining the highway. He had stopped at the A&W and got a teen burger. The best of a bad lot, he figured. Now he opened up the bag and fished out the burger.

  He took a long drink from the giant cup of root beer. He looked idly out the window. Trucks and cars whizzed by. Wonder where they’re going in such a hurry? Stitch thought. What for? We’re all ending up in the same place. What’s the rush?