by Bob Mayer
“Yeah,” Mac said. “Wile-E says they were good and I got no reason not to believe the man. Said they were together over ten months. Hell, we stayed for the duration in my war. Stayed until we won the damn thing.”
“Vietnam wasn’t technically a war,” Kane said. “Generals didn’t know what they were doing. Nor the politicians. We just fought for each other.”
“That’s every war,” Mac agreed. “But got to fight until only one side is standing. Otherwise, why are we fighting?”
“You’ve got a point,” Kane allowed.
“Wile-E, he fought with Coyote. Said the dog saved his life a bunch-a-times. Saved guys in his unit. Coyote led them to a lot of the enemy. Wile-E says the damn dog even got a medal one time. Can you believe that? A dog getting a medal?”
“Did Wile-E get one?”
“He didn’t say. That’s why I believe him. Talks more about the damn dog than hisself. And I hear him sometimes. When he aint in his right mind. Talks as if the dog is there.” Mac looked off, eyes a bit misty. “He says the dog got wounded. Shot, right in front of him after it had warned them of an ambush. Just a few feet away. But he couldn’t get to it. And the fucking Japs, they let it lie there, whining, trying to draw Wile-E and his guys out. He had to listen to it die slow.”
Kane didn’t bother to correct the war’s enemy.
“Saw the same once,” Mac muttered. “’Cept is was a sergeant. Lay there screaming for help, but no one could get to him. He was an asshole, but still. Was tough listening to a man dying slow and not being able to help ‘im. If he hadn’ been an asshole someone probably woulda shot him out of his misery.” Mac checked the can and it must have to be to his satisfaction as he used a piece of cloth to tip it and pour some coffee into a cup. Took a sip and sighed.
Kane waited for more, but it appeared the old man’s train of thought had run out of steam.
“I appreciate you trusting me with that,” Kane finally said.
“Huh?” Mac frowned. “Yeah. Losing that damn dog messed him up bad. Hell, I lost friends I don’t miss as much as he misses that dog. But, you know, dogs are different, I guess.” He pointed. “He’s in his lean-to.”
Kane glanced over at the corrugated metal leaning against the outer guard of the roadway on the southbound side. “You said he wasn’t here.”
“I lied.”
“For the money?”
“Wasn’t sure if you could be trusted,” Mac said. “And the money. And he asked to be left alone for a while. But maybe you’re for real.” He turned back to his perpetual #10 can.
Kane walked to the lean-to and knelt at one end. The smell was terrible, similar to the first time he’d tracked Wile-E down a month ago. “Hey.” He reached in and shook Wile-E’s shoulder.
“Heard you been looking for me,” the veteran muttered. “Heard you talking to Mac. Was trying to decide if I should crawl away, but I’m too damn tired.”
“Morticia’s been worried about you,” Kane said. “You just disappeared on her.”
Wile-E slithered out of the lean-to. He wore torn jeans and a t-shirt that had once been white but was tending toward the other end of the color spectrum. Wile-E blinked in the light; eyes not quite focused. “Morticia’s been worried about me?”
“Yeah. She keeps asking me to check on you. She’s been on the street looking.”
Wile-E looked away, toward the Hudson River. “She shouldn’t do that. The street’s dangerous. Tell her not to worry.”
“It’s her thing,” Kane said. “She’s a worrier. You tell her. But you should probably get cleaned up first. I told Mac about Soldiers and Sailors. You two can go together.”
Wile-E looked over at the old man. “He’s a tough son-of-a-bitch. Always has the coffee warm for whoever wants it.”
“You should get some,” Kane said.
“It’s terrible coffee.”
“I used to chew the grounds from the C-rats while on recon,” Kane said. “Got to be better than that.”
Wile-E nodded. “Not by much.”
“What years were you First Cav? They saw some shit, especially early in the war in the Ia Drang.”
“That was before my time,” Wile-E said. “’68. Helped the Marines at Khe Sanh. That’s the only reason Mac talks to me, and he won’t admit we broke the siege for them. Plus, his brain is a little fuzzy.” Wile-E laughed. “Tough old guy.” His face abruptly shifted. “Then we went into the A Shau. That was fucked.”
“Mac told me about Coyote,” Kane said. “Sorry.”
“Ah, shit. He shouldn’t have told you that.”
“He didn’t mean any harm.”
“I know. I just, I don’t know. I mean a fucking dog shouldn’t mess someone up this much. We lost a lot of guys in the unit.”
“It’s different for everyone,” Kane said. He held up his wrist, showing the watchband. “My best friend. Found his body along with most of the men in his company. Some of them, they’d tried to surrender, but you know how that went. It was bad.” Kane forced himself to put his hand on Wile-E’s shoulder. “Nothing wrong with feeling what you feel. But the smack doesn’t help.” He removed his hand.
Wile-E nodded. “I go on and off. Been cleaning up for a few days now. I shoulda stopped by the diner. I told you I’d do the job. I like to keep my word. A man’s word gotta mean something.”
Kane waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming. Finally, he said: “You know the drill. Tell the guy at Soldiers and Sailors my name. He’s got rooms for both you and Mac.” He started to leave, then paused. “I’m not hassling you, but your job is still open at the diner if you want it. Morticia and Thao miss you.”
TOWER ONE, WORLD TRADE CENTER, MANHATTAN
“Bullet holes?” Toni asked.
“We don’t get a swanky table?” Kane asked as he joined Antonia Marcelle, known to everyone except her mother and court documents as Toni. She was waiting at the bar in Windows on the World on the 107th Floor of Tower One of the World Trade Center. It was the northern tower, offset to the west from its companion. Kane was oblivious to the envious glares from other men as he sat next to her but he was very aware of his field of fire and possible exits.
“Do you own a suit jacket?” Toni asked. She had lustrous, thick black hair that curled and twisted its way to her shoulders in a seemingly random pattern. Combined with her olive tinted skin and long legs, she was a presence in whatever room she occupied, even here, high over New York City, with the spectacular ninety-mile view in all directions through the tall windows. She was several years older than Kane’s thirty-two, the sister of his Beast roommate, Ranger Buddy, and best friend, who was interred in Section XXXIV in the Academy cemetery.
“Doubtful,” Kane said. “I’m not sure what happened to the one I was issued as a cadet and I lost my Dress Blues.”
“No jacket, no table.”
“Don’t they loan them?” Kane asked.
“Give me a break. You’re sweating, Will. Did you go to the gym and run back here from Brooklyn?”
“I gotta work out,” Kane says. “I go a little crazy if I don’t.”
“We wouldn’t want you crazy, would we?”
Kane looked around. “Vic’s has more ambiance.”
“Don’t you mean ambivalence?” Toni gave him a sideways look which terminated that avenue of dialogue. “Bullet holes? Did the party get out of hand?”
Kane reached into the map case hanging on his right hip and retrieved the bundle of money Crawford had pressed on him. He put it on the bar in front of her.
The bartender averted his eyes from the cash. “May I get you something to drink, sir?”
Toni had a tall flute in front of her. Kane checked his watch. “Coffee, black, glass of water with two ice cubes, please.”
“Right away, sir.” The bartender moved off.
“You didn’t need to do that.” Toni indicated her drink. “I’m a grown up.”
“It’s still morning.”
Toni held up a long red fingernail at
the end of a long finger. “Don’t start with me. And wearing that—” she indicated the Velcro covered watch—“how can you do it? Don’t you remember Ted every time you check the time?”
“That’s why I wear it. If we don’t remember the dead, remember their names—” Kane stopped. “Sorry.”
Toni waved it off. “I know.” She pointed at the money. “What’s with the cash?”
“Crawford gave it to me to not call the cops.”
“Did he pull a six shooter and go cowboy on you?” Toni asked.
Kane nodded to the south, where they could see to the horizon underneath the dark clouds. A line of rain was moving to the west “The city, before there was a United States, bought the island to quarantine smallpox victims.”
Toni glanced at the magnificent view of New York Harbor. “What?”
“Liberty Island,” Kane said. “It was originally part of a group of small islands among shallow oyster beds. The Indians used to harvest them. So did the early Dutch settlers. But landfills destroyed that. It was named Bledloe Island and—“
Toni cut him off. “You do that when you don’t want to answer me. Go all Brother Benedict on me with city history.”
“During World War One Germans infiltrators blew up an ammo depot on Black Tom Island on the Jersey side and damaged the Statue.”
“Fascinating.” Toni began tapping her fingernails on the bar as the bartender brought Kane his coffee and water with cubes.
“I know you’re doing that to irritate me,” Kane said, “but sometimes there is a method to my stories.”
Toni stopped tapping.
“The bullet holes were not made by Crawford or the Actress or me.” He dropped the two cubes in the coffee.
“’The Actress’?” Toni repeated. “She has a name. Truvey. That’s her stage name.”
“Truvey what?” Kane asked.
“Just Truvey. It’s her shtick. She didn’t tell you her name?”
“I’m sure she did,” Kane said.
“And she didn’t immediately add that it rhymed with groovy?”
“I have a vague memory of that.” Kane tapped his shirt pocket where he kept a moleskin notebook. “I wrote it down.”
Toni shook her head. “Seriously, Will. You are out to lunch sometimes. Who else was on the boat? Or were the bullet holes there when you signed for it? What happened last night?”
Kane quickly summarized events of the previous evening, ending with the light flicking from red to green.
The end brought a strong reaction from Toni. “What the fuck! What happened then?”
“Nothing,” Kane said. “The blasting cap hadn’t been inserted into the explosives or wired to the detonator. Crawford and Truvey’s tryst interrupted the perpetrators.”
“Stop talking like your Uncle Nathan, the detective,” Toni said.
“You want me to talk like my Uncle Conner?”
“God forbid.”
The bar tender approached with a couple of menus but was stopped cold by Toni’s raised hand. He quickly retreated.
“Who were they?” Toni asked.
“No idea,” Kane said. “Have you heard from Crawford?”
“Not a peep.”
“He said he was sending his own people to deal with it which makes it sound like he has an idea who it was. He was acting weird. As if he were waiting on somebody. That’s the extent of my knowledge. I started the evening feeling like I was some sort of pimp and ended it almost getting blown up. Oh yeah, the bomb was attached to a radio-controlled detonator. That’s why the light changed. If the fuse had been hooked up, it would have gone off. Twenty pounds of military grade C-4. We’d have been splinters.”
Toni ignored the pimp jab and started tapping again as she gazed out the window, eyes not quite focused. Kane recognized the look, restrained his irritation at the tapping, and took a sip of his cooling coffee.
After a long thirty seconds of nail drumming, Toni delivered her summation. “It doesn’t add up.”
“Nope.”
She stopped the fingernails. “What are your problems with it?”
“Why a bomb?” Kane said. “Why not just shoot Crawford? They knock him out so they can blow him up? Seems overly complicated.”
“Unless they wanted people to think it was an accident,” Toni said.
“Maybe.”
“You said the blast would have wiped out the boat, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What about the wreckage? Would it sink? The remains get swept out to sea? Leave no trace?”
Kane had already thought about that. “I don’t know. The tide was going out and it’s not like NYPD sweeps the water. There are enough bodies in the East River that there are probably wise guys with cement shoes on the shoulders of earlier wise guys with cement shoes. I’ll have to check.”
“Or it could be blamed on an engine explosion,” Toni said. “An accident.”
“Maybe.”
“There’s another possibility,” Toni said.
“What?”
“That you were the target,” Toni said.
“Still overly complicated,” Kane said. “And why would someone want to kill me?”
“Jesus, Will. Your Blackout night stunt?” She turned on her stool toward him. “What happened to Damon? He hasn’t been seen since then. Along with his Trinity. Last I saw of you that day you were going to meet him and it didn’t look like it was going to be a happy chat. In fact, you said I’d never see you again. But you called me the next day and said everything was fine, which is total bullshit given your neck and wrists. I’ve asked and you’ve stonewalled me. What really happened?”
“Best you not know.”
“And Quinn?” Toni asked. “He’s been gone since that night also.”
“Sofia Delgado tell you that last one?” Kane asked.
Toni kept her focus on him. “What happened to them?”
“Omar Strong asked me the same this morning,” Kane said. “Except the part about Quinn, but he doesn’t have the same inside channel to the Cappucci family that you do. Is Sofia pining for her missing lover? Speaking of lovers, the two of you been cozying around in Studio 54 lately?”
“I’m being very patient here, Will,” Toni said tersely. “Why was Strong asking you?”
“Seems some corpses were found on the top floor of one of buildings in the old Nabisco complex. Burned up in a fire the night of the Blackout. There were lots of fires that night.”
“What did you do, Will?”
“You’re the lawyer, Toni. You know better than to ask questions you don’t already have the answer to or don’t want answered.” Kane paused. “But you know the answer, don’t you?”
Toni let out a deep breath. “Sweet Jesus. All five?”
Kane nodded. “And all of Damon’s films. Gone.”
Toni blinked. “Just you? Or did Thao help?”
“Again. Don’t ask questions like that.” Kane took another sip of his luke-warm coffee. “Just the way I like it. Thao wasn’t involved.”
“How did Strong react?” Toni finally asked.
“I wasn’t as explicit with him, but they discovered a shipment of weapons among the debris. Two hundred and forty M-16s. It’s no longer NYPD’s province. The FBI is taking lead but they’re not going to learn much. Probably trace the serial numbers on the M-16s and find out what armory they were stolen from. Beyond that, what’s there to pursue? The bad guys are dead.
“Strong said he didn’t think there wasn’t enough left of the bodies for an ID. But they’ll eventually figure out that Damon owned that floor since his limo was in the loading bay in the basement. Strong seemed disinclined to want to learn more or pursue, but he was not pleased with me. I think that’s the best course of action for everyone. I’m certainly done with it.”
Toni swallowed and nodded. She looked at her drink for several moments before speaking. “Thank you, Will. And you’re right. We shouldn’t talk about it.” Toni regrouped. “What are we go
ing to do about last night?”
“I’ll see if I can get a line on the detonator,” Kane said. “Demo guys sometimes leave a signature and I know a really good one to ask. That’s all I have. Maybe you can find out through your contacts whether anyone has shown up in an emergency room with a forty-five slug in the shoulder and a broken nose?”
“I’ll do that.” Toni grabbed his forearm, pulling him toward her. “Really, Will. Thank you.” She got off her stool and hugged him.
“You are most certainly welcome,” Kane said into her hair, smelling the same perfume that had been on her brother Ted’s letter that first night in Beast Barracks in 1962. He let go and they both sat.
“Will the FBI be a problem for you?” she asked.
“I don’t see why. Nothing links me to the place.”
“Who knows you were there?”
“Thao,” Kane said and then he realized Wile-E and the Kid. And Morticia. And Pope most likely. That was the problem with associating with people. But only Thao knew what had happened in the building.
“Who were the M-16s for?”
“The IRA.”
“They’ll want to know what happened to their guns,” Toni pointed out. “And Damon. He was important to them.”
“Again. Nothing links me to that place.” Kane thought about the duffle bags full of cash and decided that wasn’t a piece of information he needed to contribute.
“Still,” Toni said, “you have potential enemies in the IRA even if they don’t know about you. Before that, you had the CIA bugging your apartment. You haven’t kept me up to speed on your life.”
“Ditto,” Kane said. “I did this gig as a favor to you.”
“Let’s not get into it,” Toni said. “Please, come downstairs and see the offices,” she begged him. “I’ll show you the one for my head of research.” She indicated the windows. “It’s got an unbelievable view.”
“I got shot at and almost blown up doing you a favor,” Kane said. “Imagine the excitement I’ll experience working full time.”
“Oh, screw you. Your life would be dull without the excitement.”
“How is your father taking you splitting from his firm?”
“We haven’t spoken since I left.”
