Malachi, Ruse Master

by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

  “Hmm. An actor grovels.” She patted me on the shoulder and exited the car, waving goodbye. Those words hung on the air like dampness hangs around after a rainfall.

  ***

  I decided to wait on the hair dye until after I did my first surveillance mission. Yes, I parked in the kid’s neighborhood until he left. It sort of helped that I was in a loaner car. Henry had hooked me up with a cheap mechanic that would do repairs on credit. So if things worked out as hoped, I would be in a different car the next time I tailed Clinton. I followed him to school, went to a pay phone to call and find out what time school ended, and showed up in the parking lot two hours before school let out.

  Not surprisingly, he left early then went home to change clothes and left again. He ended up at a home on Peyton Drive, greeted by another guy who was probably just another senior. Could they be using drugs? I couldn’t tell. A motherly type showed up an hour later with groceries, and the guys came into sight to greet her. She started cooking, and they disappeared again. Maybe they were playing video games. After a short while, the mom called them out and they all sat down to dinner. This didn’t look like a drug hang-out. Was it a cover for a later activity? I kept wondering, Why doesn’t he just tell his parents he’s at his friend’s house?

  I made note of the address and decided to come back later after meeting with Macie. She would be at my house in ten minutes. By no means on purpose, I ran late a lot with her. This would make our little skit more believable for Henry, though.

  Just as I got to the house, my new cell phone rang. I hated this thing, but I’d have to get used to it. It was no small coincidence that only one person had the phone number. “Hey, Jack,” I said.

  “Hey. I figured you could handle this; we have another job to serve divorce papers, and if you want it, it’s extra money. It should be really easy. Considering, Clinton has school during the day and will likely only require your attention at night.”

  How could I turn it down? “You got it.”

  “Okay. Meet me tomorrow morning.”

  “Can we make it around 11:00?”

  He paused; I felt like I could almost hear him raise an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, alright. Just tomorrow, right?”

  “Well, I hope so. The neighbor situation—”

  “Malachi, you’ve got to be careful.”

  “Yes, sir.” What more could I say?

  “Remember, you’ve got a job to do. I know I’m educating you on a lot of life lessons here, but don’t confuse me with your dad.”

  “Oh, you’re nothing like him at all. You could never be as sad and pickled as he is. And I thank you for the advice. I will do my job. I promise.”

  As I exited the car, I saw that Macie was sitting on the front stoop. I supposed if the neighbors saw her that would be a good thing.

  “Did you knock?”

  “I don’t know that man!” she hissed at me.

  Good. She was getting her shackles up. I unlocked the door, and we went in. “Well, you know, I was wrapping things up.”

  “I’ve been waiting out there for fifteen minutes, and it’s cold!” Her voice was shrill; she wasn’t even acting. This was great.

  Henry appeared and took a seat at the foot of the stairs by the kitchen. “You guys, keep it down.” He held a hand to his head.

  “Sorry. Oh, Henry, this is Macie.”

  “Hey. Can you guys have your lovers’ spat somewhere else?”

  Mission accomplished. Henry had assumed that Macie and I were in a relationship. Hopefully some of the neighbors had seen her.

  We went down to my basement room and discussed the parts of my plan I was willing to tell her.

  “Now, unfortunately, we have to wait for another incident with the man and his wife next door.”

  Macie rolled her eyes. “That sort of means I’ll be at your beck and call.”

  “I know. Okay, name a place where you would love to go and eat, someplace you haven’t been in a long, long time. I’ll take you there as your payback. I’ll owe you. I mean it, my paychecks will start getting a little more regular.”

  “Are you and G.D. gonna star in a porn movie or something?” she teased.

  “No! I’m gonna, I mean, we have some other opportunities that should pay off soon.”

  “Well, spill the beans!”

  “Behind the scenes stuff, extras, stage hands. It’s looking promising. It’s a place to start.”

  “Right.” She didn’t look convinced.

  “Well, I also have the call job. I’m not starving.”

  “Are you sure?” She looked me up and down.

  “Okay, I am willing to starve for my art, and I’ll work hard for something that’s important to me. Trust me, please. I want to help this woman; I can’t just sit back and look the other way like everyone else is doing.”

  “I know. That is good of you. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “So, we’ll make a deal. Within a month after I call on you to help with this, I will take you for a nice dinner and the place of your choice. Even if I have to take out a loan to do it. That’s my responsibility; you don’t worry about it.”

  “Well, a lobster dinner would be nice.”

  “Now you’re talking. Keep thinking along those lines. Come up with a place. Some restaurant that would make all this worth it. This won’t interfere with the new boyfriend, will it?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think so. You made it sound like you would call on me in the morning sometime. No problem. It’s just that it may make me late for work.”

  “I know. Sorry. You will have a really nice dinner when this is done, and if the boyfriend won’t get out of your hair, I will foot the bill for the two of you.”

  A smile came across her face. “I appreciate the offer. Besides, this is the right thing to do.”

  Later, after Macie left, I called Jack again. “Jack, would you be able to help me find a new place to live?”

  “What have you done?”

  “Nothing yet, but I can tell it will be soon. I may piss off my landlord in the process.” I didn’t even mention the fact that Henry would not understand me acquiring a new identity. It might be hard to hide from him as well.

  “I warned you about this,” he replied, tension in his voice.

  “I can’t help it; I can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

  Jack sighed. “Yeah, there may be some way I can help, even if it’s just to put in a good word for you. You’ve got a good heart, kid, just don’t let it get in the way of surviving.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up the phone, feeling better about Jack Fontaine by the moment. It was my older brother who once told me I couldn’t rely completely on myself to get through life, though I think he was implying that I would need him someday, and I would never let that happen. It would seem I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by some good people at this time in my life. I made a mental note to be sure and do right by Jack, deciding that at any costs, I would do a good job.

  I then went and changed into an old, grungy shirt and grabbed the bottle of hair dye.

  Chapter 13

  Smokescreen Ruse

  The hair dye was obnoxious. I stuck out like a sore thumb. I suppose this was part of my transformation; sticking out could help me fit in for this new job. Reaching into the closet, I grabbed a hat and tried to hide it. Tonight I would do a late night surveillance on Clinton. I had already called Jack to check in with the parents. No, he wasn’t home, Mrs. Rusche had informed Jack; didn’t he know that’s why she hired him in the first place?

  “I may know where he is,” I told Jack.

  “Well, hurry, before he moves on to somewhere else.”

  Hurry, I did. The glasses remained in my glove compartment. I didn’t know if I would end up the night acting or surveilling this young man. I had to be prepared for both.

  I went as fast as my car could take me to the house where I saw him earlier. His fancy car was not parked out front. At a loss, I remained there fo
r a short while, observing. Nothing much happened. The other young man came out at one point to take out the trash. I made notes, but they revealed nothing. It was a waste of paper. This kid lived a normal life, and he seemed to have quite a happy family life, unlike our friend, Clinton.

  After driving past Clinton’s home to ensure he wasn’t there, an aimless drive around town did not produce the wayward Clinton. If he had a drug habit, it did not involve his friend on Peyton Drive. He didn’t appear to be very close with his own family. Was that why he stayed out so late? Where was he? I can’t say I combed every single street, but I drove past every single night club I knew of in town, just in case he might also have access to a fake ID. His car was not to be found. I went into one of the night clubs, just in case he met up at another friend’s house first. There was plenty of bumping and grinding on the dance floor and sad karaoke in another room. Plenty of sad drunks, too, to be out this late on a weeknight. But no Clinton. I drove a little more but gave up at 3 a.m., tired and out of ideas. This would not be an easy job. Clinton Rusche was quite an enigma.

  Hazy sleep crept in on me while I lay back on the couch. The basement door had been left open as I came in in a stupor, blurry-eyed and unthinking.

  In what felt like only minutes later, I awoke with a startle, hearing screaming and shouting next door. I could have drifted back off to sleep, but awareness hit me. It was Don and his wife. I quietly tiptoed up the stairs. Henry hadn’t been there last night; he was on a long distance job and should be back any time, but I knew these things could take longer than expected. My concern was not making the neighbors aware that I was listening, watching, observing. It was 6 a.m.! Did I dare wake Macie at home?

  Without thinking twice, I called her apartment. It rang several times. The screaming and shouting would stop, then continue. I felt like a scared little chicken; I should have just marched over there. Could I even defend myself against Don? What if he had a gun on him? I knew that was pretty likely. Defending myself could also get me in trouble with the cops.

  I called again. No one picked up. I called a third time. Finally, a tired Macie answered.

  “Yeah?” she grumbled.

  “Macie, are you awake?”

  “I am now. Wait, what’s going on?”

  “Can you get over here?”

  “I can’t get there until probably seven.” She yawned.

  “Whatever you can do, I appreciate it.”

  “Okay, Malachi. Let’s do this.” She hung up the phone.

  I went to the kitchen to figure out what to cook. Mustering up the courage, I walked over to Don and Sofie’s house and knocked. No one answered, though I heard voices inside.

  Knowing I was about to make myself even more of a target for Don, I called out, “Hey, it’s Malachi, is everything okay?”

  Don came up to the door. He opened it just an inch and said, “My wife is sleeping. Can you stop making noise? Everything’s fine. Go on back to your basement.”

  I could have broken down that door right then, but I didn’t. If authorities came out today, it would not be due to my aggression, but rather, his. I had to do this right, and I had thought it through. I smiled in respect. “Don, I’m sorry. I just heard some noise. Just being a good neighbor.”

  I turned to walk, and he slammed the door behind me as if he forgot the lie about his sleeping wife in the house. I put my hands in my pockets and walked slowly down their drive, looking left and right as if pondering what other house might have produced such noise. I was running on very little sleep and glad not to be a hero at this moment. Still, as I approached my own door, I worried over what Don may be thinking, and what accusations he may be hurling toward Sofie. There was no way she was sleeping. Once inside, I rubbed my eyes and pulled out a package of rice from the cabinet. Sure, it would be normal to cook rice this early in the morning, right? I put just a little bit of water in and turned the stove on to bring it to a boil.

  I heard loud voices next door, not screaming as much as before. Wishing I could have intervened sooner, I added the rice to the pot. If this pot started a real fire, it would be Don’s fault anyway. Going on two and a half hours of sleep, who could think straight enough to cook breakfast?

  Ordinary sounds came to my ears. A knock on the door, the enthusiastic boiling of water. I peeped through the kitchen window and saw Macie. With a breath of relief, I turned the doorknob.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  “Thanks for keeping it low,” I replied. “Thank you for coming, too.”

  Steam arose from the stove. Macie raised an eyebrow. “Your landlord is going to throw you out.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, he could. I’ll be back downstairs. The story is, I started this on the stove, forgot about it, and went back to doze again. I was out late, and the neighbors woke me early with their screaming and shouting. I suspect she must have bruises somewhere.”

  “Can we get in trouble for this?”

  “I don’t know, Macie. I think if we keep a straight face and stick to the story, we’ll be fine. This will be the one time a lie may actually help another person. I tell lies all the time in order to….” I stopped, knowing this confession gave her a side of me she had not yet seen. My true job was something I couldn’t reveal to her, though, and that was a shame. Not that I was ready to share all of me with a girl, but it felt disingenuous to be this way when she was in so deep with me on this plan, this lie. This white lie.

  “Never mind, Malachi. What do I need to do right now?” she asked.

  “Walk outside to get the paper. Let’s establish your presence here, so it’s not like you just showed up. Another neighbor may see you; it will make you look like a regular here.”

  “Okay,” she responded.

  “And let me know if you hear anything,” I requested.

  She turned the knob and slammed the door behind her. I wasn’t worried, even if Don looked out and saw her. He was likely watching this house in paranoia right now-or possibly watching in order to plot my demise. I just hoped Sofie wasn’t catching the brunt of his anger. I was convinced he was a very dangerous man, and his standing in the community was a part of that.

  In order to delay our plan for credibility, I lifted the pot off of the stove. Who would be watching us and putting a time stamp on everything? Not likely. I was probably being too careful. She came back in.

  “Here.” She threw the paper down on the kitchen table. “I did hear loud voices.”

  I shook my head, putting the pot back on the stove and added more rice. “I am going downstairs. As soon as that starts smoking up the house, go across the street, Number 411. It’s Mrs. Bannon. She’ll be there. You know the story.”

  “Yes. ‘I’m staying with Henry, I’m his niece! There’s a fire, I need to call the fire department!’ Call 911, and ask for an ambulance. Not for the cops.” She repeated our earlier plan.

  “Somehow, you didn’t notice I’d put a pot of food on the stove. You came back from getting the paper and went back to the bathroom. Then, you smelled the smoke. You knew I was sleeping downstairs. The house was smoked over when you came out of the bathroom. You run out to her to make the call. Tell everyone you are Henry’s niece, staying here now and then. If they suspect involvement between us, fine. Don’t deny, not too vehemently. Because, you know how you were introduced to Henry. Now, go turn on the shower in the bathroom. Ready?”

  She nodded.

  I took the stairs by twos and lay back on the sofa. The water upstairs was making a raucous noise and would soon be burned down to nothing. Trusting Macie, I decided to close the basement door. There was no way she’d let this house actually burn down. I listened closely for Macie’s footsteps, then heard the kitchen door close. Good, she didn’t slam it. Closing my eyes, I could smell the smoke. It had not gotten thick in here yet; good thing I closed the basement door.

  The phone started ringing. I debated whether or not I should get it, then decided that, due to the amount of smoke I was seeing, I decided it bes
t to pretend I just woke up. Opening the basement door, I was overwhelmed by the thick smoke and the flames that had started up around the burning pot. I grabbed a pitcher of water and poured it over the flames then attempted to blow the flames out. I know I looked ridiculous, but it worked. My chest was hurting, and I had to sit down, but first, I took a huge step to the kitchen door and opened it.

  Sirens were screaming from just outside the neighborhood. Good job, Macie, I thought. I felt ready to pass out, but first, I had another good idea.

  I walked over to Don and Sofie’s and rapped on the door. It wouldn’t be too unbelievable to ask for help in a situation like this. I was light-headed and felt cocky, like I had nothing to lose now that help was on its way.

  Sofie opened the door. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asked, quietly.

  “No, I could use a little help.” Her face was slightly spinning before me.

  “Is that why I’m hearing the sirens?” she asked, wide—eyed. Don came up behind her.

  “Leave us be,” he growled. “Go ask Mrs. Bannon, we’re busy.”

  “Don,” I snarled, putting my fingers up in a gesture, “you’re this close to getting your butt kicked by me.”

  “What are you, drunk?” He pushed Sofie out of the doorway, but not before I noticed a fresh scratch on Sofie’s face.

  “Malachi!” Macie called. She was across the street with Mrs. Bannon on her driveway. A firetruck approached as Don was looming over me.

  “You need to stop being such an abusive tyrant to your wife, Don. I mean it. I should have stood up to you a long time ago.”

  Don couldn’t hold it back anymore. He gave me a blow to the face with his fist, landing me on the ground and knocking out a tooth. Blood dripped down from my mouth to my shirt. Strategically, I didn’t bother to wipe it from either.

  “Stop it, Don!” Sofie cried out.

  He went back to her and slapped her face. I would have liked to avoid that happening, but I was still on the ground, staring in disbelief. As if hitting me wasn’t enough.

  As one of the firemen approached Henry’s house, a second came over and accosted Don. “Sir, Metro Police have been called and dispatched. Stand down. Ma’am,” he said to Sofie, “come with me.” He took her to the first responder’s vehicle and sat her in the front seat next to the driver. Don had just turned and gone back into the house.