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He said, "They get there at ten-thirty, right? And were due ten minutes later, and then we work our way up to where theyre waiting. Is that about right?"
I said it was.
"So well be face-to-face across no-mans-land about ten minutes of eleven, is that about how you figure it?"
"Something like that. "
"And how long to make the trade and get out? Half an hour?"
"Probably a lot less than that, if nothing goes wrong. If the shit hits the fan, well, its another story. "
"Yeah, so lets hope it doesnt. I was just wondering about getting back out again, but I guess they dont lock the gates until midnight. "
"Lock the gates?"
"Yeah, I woulda guessed itd be earlier, but I guess not or you would have picked someplace else. "
"Jesus," I said.
"Whats the matter?"
"I never even thought of that," I said. "Why didnt you say something earlier?"
"Then what would you do, call him back?"
"No, I guess not. It never occurred to me that they might lock the gates. Dont cemeteries stay open all night? Why would you have to lock them up?"
"To keep people out. "
"Because everybodys dying to get in? Jesus, I must have heard that one in the fourth grade. Why do they have a fence around the cemetery? "
"I guess they get vandals," Kenan said. "Kids who tip over the gravestones, take a shit in the floral urns. "
"You think the kids cant climb fences?"
"Hey, man," he said. "Im not setting the policy here. Its up to me, all the graveyards in townll be open admission. Hows that?"
"I just hope I didnt screw up. If they get there and the gates are locked-"
"Yeah? What are they gonna do, sell her to white slave traders in Argentina? Theyll climb the fence, same as well do. Matter of fact, they probably dont lock it before midnight. People might want to go after work, pay a late call on the dear departed. "
"At eleven oclock?"
He shrugged. "People work late. They got office jobs in Manhattan, stop for a couple of drinks after work, they have dinner, then they go to wait half an hour for the subway because theyre like some people I know, theyre too cheap to take a cab-"
"Jesus," I said.
"- and its late by the time they get back to Brooklyn and they say, Hey, I think Ill go over to Green-Wood, see if I can find where Uncle Vic is planted, I never liked him, I think Ill go piss on his grave. "
"You nervous, Kenan?"
"Yeah, Im nervous. What do you fucking think? Youre the ones gotta walk up to a couple of stone killers armed with nothing but money. You must be starting to sweat. "
"Maybe a little bit. Slow down, thats the entrance coming up. I think its open. "
"Yeah, it looks like it. You know, even if theyre supposed to lock up, they probably dont get around to it. "
"Maybe not. Lets drive once around the entire cemetery, all right? And then well find a place to park near our entrance. "
We circled the cemetery in silence. There was no traffic to speak of, and there was a stillness to the night, as if the deep silence within the cemetery fence could reach out and suppress all sound in the vicinity.
When we were just about back where wed started TJ said, "We goin in a cemetery?"
Kenan turned aside to hide a grin. I said, "You can stay in the car if youd rather. "
"What for?"
"If youd be more comfortable. "
"Man," he said, "I aint scared of no dead people. That what you think? That I scared?"
"My mistake. "
"Your mistake is right, Dwight. Dead folks dont bother me. "
DEAD people didnt bother me much, either. It was some of the live ones that worried me.
We met at the Thirty-fifth Street gate and slipped inside right away, not wanting to draw attention on the street. For now, Yuri and Pavel were carrying the money. We had two flashlights among the seven of us. Kenan took one of them. I had the other, and I led the way.
I didnt use the light much, just flicked it quickly on and off when I needed to see where I was going. This wasnt necessary most of the time. There was a waxing moon overhead, and a certain amount of light from the streetlamps on the avenue. The tombstones were mostly of white marble and they showed up well once your eyes were accustomed to the dimness. I threaded my way among them and wondered whose bones I was walking over. One of the papers had run a story within the past year or so on where the bodies were buried, an inventory of gravesites of the rich and famous throughout the five boroughs. I hadnt paid too much attention to it, but I seemed to recall that a fair number of prominent New Yorkers were interred at Green-Wood.
Some enthusiasts, Id read, make a hobby of visiting graves. Some take photographs, others make rubbings of tombstone inscriptions. I couldnt imagine what they got out of it, but it doesnt sound that much nuttier than some of the things I do. Their pursuit only brought them out in the daytime. They werent stumbling around in the dark, trying to keep from tripping over a chunk of granite.
I soldiered on. I stayed close enough to the fence to see the street signs, and I slowed down when I got to Twenty-seventh Street. The others drew closer, and I gestured for them to fan out a ways without advancing any farther north. Then I turned toward where Raymond Callander was supposed to be and pointed my flashlight out in front of me, triggering the trio of flashes wed agreed on.
For a long moment the only answer was darkness and silence. Then three flashes of light blinked back at me, coming from a little right of dead ahead. They were, I calculated, something like a hundred yards from us, maybe more. It didnt seem that far when someone was running with a football under his arm. Now, though, it looked much too distant.
"Stay where you are," I called out. "Were going to approach a little closer. "
"Not too close!"
"About fifty yards," I said. "The way we arranged. "
Flanked by Kenan and one of Yuris men, with the rest of our party not far behind, I covered about half the distance separating us. "Thats far enough," Callander called out at one point, but it wasnt far enough and I ignored him and kept on walking. We had to be close enough so that someone could cover the transfer. We had one rifle, and Peter had been entrusted with it, having proved a good marksman during a six-month hitch a while back in the National Guard. Of course that was before a lengthy apprenticeship as a drunk and a dope addict, but he still figured to be the best shot in the group. He had a decent rifle with a scope sight, but the scope wasnt infrared so hed be aiming by moonlight. I wanted to keep the distance down so that he could make his shots count if he had to.
Although I wondered what difference it made to me. The only reason hed start shooting would be if the players on the other side tried a cross, and if they did theyd take me out in the first minute of the opening round. If Peter started firing back at them, I wouldnt be around to know where the bullets went.
Cheering thoughts.
When wed cut the distance in half I signaled to Peter, and he moved off to the side and selected a shooting stand for himself, propping the rifle barrel on a low marble grave marker. I looked for Ray and his partner and could only see shapes. They had drawn back into the darkness.
I said, "Come out where we can see you. And show the girl. "
They moved into view. Two forms, and then as the light got better you could see that one form was made up of two persons, that one of the men had the girl in front of him. I heard Yuris intake of breath and just hoped hed keep his cool.
"Ive got a knife to her throat," Callander called. "If my hand slips-"
"It better not. "
"Then youd better bring the money. And not try anything cute. "
I turned, hefted the suitcases, checked our troops. I didnt see TJ and asked Kenan what had happened to him. He said he thought he might have gone back to the car. " Feet, do yo stuff, " he said. "I dont think hes crazy about graveyards at night. "
&nb
sp; "Neither am I. "
"Listen," he said, "whyntcha tell them were changing the rules, the moneys too heavy for one person to carry, and Ill walk up there with you. "
"No. "
"Gotta be the hero, huh?"
I cant say I felt terribly heroic. The weight of the suitcases kept me from being particularly jaunty. It looked as though one of the men had a gun, not the one holding the girl, and it looked as though the gun was pointed at me, but I didnt feel in danger of being shot, not unless someone on our side panicked and got off a round and everybody just let fly. If they were going to kill me, theyd at least wait until Id brought them the money. They might be crazy but they werent stupid.
"Dont try a thing," Ray said. "I dont know if you can see it, but the knifes right at her throat. "
"I can see. "
"Thats close enough. Put the bags down. "
It was Ray holding the girl, holding the knife. I knew his voice but I would have made him from TJs description, which was right on the money. His jacket was zipped so I couldnt see the lame sport shirt, but I was willing to take TJs word for it.
The other man was taller, with unkempt dark hair and eyes that looked in the half-light like a pair of holes burned in a bedsheet. He wore no jacket, just a flannel shirt and jeans. I couldnt see his eyes but I could feel the anger in his stare and I wondered what the hell he thought Id done to provoke it. I was bringing him a million dollars and he was itching to kill me.
"Open the bags. "
"First let the girl go. "
"No, first show the money. "
The pistol Kenan had insisted on giving me was in the small of my back, its barrel wedged under my belt, its bulk concealed by my sport jacket. There is no terribly adroit way to draw it quickly from that position, but I had my hands free now and could go for it.
Instead I knelt and unfastened the snaps on one of the cases, lifting the lid to show the money. I straightened up. The man with the gun started forward and I held up a hand.
"Now let her go," I said. "Then you can examine it. Dont try to change the ground rules now, Ray. "
"Ah, sweet Lucy," he said. "I hate to see you go, child. "
He let go of her. Id barely had a chance to look at her, half-shadowed by his body. Even in the darkness she looked pale and drawn. Her hands were clutched together at her waist, her arms tight against her sides, her shoulders hunched. She looked as though she was trying to present the smallest possible target to the world.
I said, "Come here, Lucia. " She didnt move. I said, "Your fathers over there, darling. Go to your father. Go ahead. "
She took a step, then stopped. She looked very unsteady on her feet, and she was gripping one hand tightly with the other.
"Go on," Callander told her. "Run!"
She looked at him, then at me. It was hard to tell what she was seeing because her gaze was unfocused, vacant. I wanted to pick her up, toss her over my shoulder, run back to where her father was waiting.
Or tug my jacket aside with one hand, draw the gun with the other, and drop both of the bastards where they stood. But the dark mans gun was pointing at me, and Callander also had a gun in his hand now, a companion piece for the long knife he was still holding.
A Walk Among the Tombstones Page 42
