Small Crimes (9 page)

One
time a big shot from New York tried to muscle in on Manny and open up escort
services around a few of the ski resorts. This guy, I think his name was Wally
Sneck, or something like that, made the mistake of showing up in Vermont to
check out one of his businesses. Manny got wind of it, had me show up and put
cuffs on Sneck, and drag him to the basement of one of Manny's clubs. I thought
Manny was going to just scare him, but hell no. Manny ended up giving him a
couple of hard kicks to the mouth. He checked to see whether there were any
front teeth left, saw that there were, and kicked him a couple of more times
until they were knocked out. I don't think he enjoyed it, but I know it didn't
bother him either. It was simply business. In any case, Sneck sold his escort
services that night to Manny for a buck.

His
son, Manny Jr., was a different story. Junior was a sadistic psychopath. Manny
had sent me on a collection job once with Junior. At the time Junior was
seventeen and I think what Manny wanted was to give his kid some experience and
to have me there in case there were problems. The guy we were collecting from
was just some poor sap, and he was crapping in his pants when we cornered him
one night in a parking lot. He would have paid up right away, but before I
realized what was happening, Junior had taken a lead pipe to the guy's knees.
He got several whacks in before I was able to pull him off. I could tell that
crazy bastard enjoyed every second of it. That was the one and only time I was
willing to go out on a job with him. Over the years I'd heard other stories
regarding Junior - pretty bizarre stuff, and I wouldn't bet against any of them
being true.

When
I got to the cafeteria, I bought a cup of coffee and sat down. I now knew there
was a good chance Manny would confess all to Phil and I would end up going away
for a long time, maybe even life if Manny could sell that I had killed
Ferguson. And as Dan had pointed out, I wouldn't be spending my days in a
county jail in Bradley, but some hardcore maximum-security prison God knows
where. Panic started to overtake me. I felt a tightening in my chest and could
barely breathe. I knew I couldn't spend any more time locked away. It was tough
enough sitting out the last seven years in county jail and spending my days
realizing how badly I had wasted my life.

Crazy
thoughts flooded my head, thoughts of running and suicide and other things I
wouldn't want to mention. If Elaine knew me as well as she thought she did I
would've driven to some quiet spot, put a gun in my mouth, and ended it right
then and there. Because that would've been the easy way out. But I wasn't going
to take the easy way out. I didn't know what I was going to do but it wasn't
going to be that.

Running
wouldn't do any good either. Even with the sixty-five hundred dollars that Dan
gave me I wouldn't be able to run far enough. Eventually they'd catch up with
me. And even if I could, what would I be running to? A drifting, meaningless existence?
Going back on the promise I'd just made my girls? No, running wasn't an option.
Neither was suicide. But I was going to have to do something, because I wasn't
going to live out my days in prison.

At
one point I could feel that I was being stared at. To my left, a few tables
over, a family of four sat. They were all large boned, heavy and unattractive.
All of them were glaring in my direction. The father was a few years older than
me, and along with the mother there was a teenage son and a pre-teen daughter.
From the physical resemblance, I knew they were the family of the boy whose arm
I shattered. I stared back at them until they left their table. Then I went
back to my brooding.

I
was deep in some dark thoughts when I realized someone was standing near me. I
looked up and saw it was the nurse from before. She was a small, mousy woman in
her mid-thirties, with thinning brown hair and large nervous eyes. She was
trying to clear her throat to get my attention.

I
looked up at her and forced a smile.

'Mr.
Vassey's company has left,' she told me.

"Thank
you. I appreciate your helping me like this.'

'I...
I should be getting back to work.' She stood awkwardly for a moment and looked
like what she really wanted was for me to invite her to sit down. I wasn't
feeling up to visiting Manny yet so I asked if I could buy her a cup of coffee.

'I
really should be getting back.' She could barely meet my eyes, but she didn't
seem overly anxious to walk away.

I
stood up and pulled a chair out for her. 'Come on,' I said, forcing a bigger
smile. 'Why don't you take a five-minute break and join me?'

She
hesitated for a moment but she sat down. I guess I can take a short break,' she
admitted, showing a tiny smile.

I
asked her how she took her coffee and whether she wanted anything else, maybe a
Danish or doughnut, but all she wanted was the coffee. I got up and bought her
a cup and also ended up buying her a piece of chocolate cake that looked
edible.

I
brought the coffee and cake back to the table and sat across from her. She
murmured out a 'thank you', and glanced up at me while she sipped her drink. I
noticed she was looking uneasily at my scratches.

'I
walked into a tree branch last night and got a little scratched up,' I said.

I
could tell from the change in her expression that she believed me. The
scratches obviously weren't made by a tree branch, but if you want to believe
something, you'll believe it. She mentioned how I needed to be more careful and
I agreed with her.

'By
the way,' I said as I held out my hand, 'my name's Joe Denton. I'm happy to
meet you.'

She
hesitated before taking my hand. Her own hand was small and disappeared in
mine. Even though she looked a bit mousy and her hair was too thin, she had
some nice features. Especially her eyes when they weren't nervous. They were a
soft hazel color and were nice to look at.

'I'm
Charlotte Boyd,' she said in a muted voice.

We
had shaken hands longer than we should have. I made the first move to let go.

'I've
lived in Bradley my whole life and never knew any Boyds,' I said, still forcing
my smile. 'Are you from around here?'

'I
moved here from Montreal three years ago,' she said. She no longer had any
problem meeting my eyes.

'I've
never been to Montreal. I'll have to go someday. Let me guess, you're French?'

'No,'
she said, 'and it's not very nice up there if you're not. I moved to Montreal
after college. I grew up in Toronto.'

'Toronto
and Montreal, huh? And now you're in the middle of nowhere. Well, anyway, how
do you like Bradley?'

'I
like it.' She looked away from me, her tiny smile gone. 'It's fine.'

She
had no engagement or wedding ring on. My guess was she was unattached and
probably as lonely as I was. I know, Bradley's a small town. It probably takes
getting used to after cities like Montreal and Toronto,' I said. 'So you're
Manny's nurse?'

She
nodded. 'He's one of my patients.' She lowered her voice. 'Mr. Vassey is not
doing well. His cancer is at an advanced stage.'

'I
know. Oh well, what can you do?' I shook my head sadly and then hesitated for a
moment. 'Was that Phil Coakley I saw in there with Manny?'

'I
believe so, yes. Mr. Coakley visits every day. He seems like a nice man. It's a
shame what happened to his face.'

I
could tell from her expression that she didn't mean anything by her comment.
She had no idea that I was the cause of that shame. I guess she hadn't read the
papers the other day.

I
muttered something under my breath about agreeing with her how much of a shame
it was. I glanced at my watch and saw it was almost four.

'I
better get up there and see Manny while I got the chance,' I said.

She
lowered her glance from me. 'It was nice meeting you, Joe.' She spoke so
quietly I could barely hear her.

'Same
here, Charlotte. I hope it didn't sound like I was giving you the third degree
before with all my questions. I used to be a police officer and some habits die
hard. But it was nice meeting you. Maybe we'll bump into each other again.'

'I
didn't mind your questions at all.'

'Well,
that's good. I'll see you around.'

I
started towards the elevator and stopped to give her a friendly wave. She seemed
somewhat startled by it, but gave me a wave back and her soft hazel eyes held
steady as they met mine.

I
found Manny alone when I got to his room. His eyes were partially open but he
seemed to be sleeping. It would've been so easy to grab a pillow and end it
right there. I wondered briefly whether at this stage they'd bother with an
autopsy. But I knew they would. Phil would hear that I was in the hospital
asking about Manny and he would demand one. And even if nobody mentioned
anything about me being there, Phil would still suspect that I was involved and
demand the autopsy anyway.

I
could see Manny was on oxygen and there were intravenous tubes stuck in his
arms. One of the tubes was connected to a morphine drip. As I was studying it,
I heard Manny stir.

'Who's
there?' he asked.

I
pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. 'How you doing, Manny, it's been a
long time.'

He
stared at me and blinked several times before he recognized me. "They let
you out already? Too bad,' he noted without much enthusiasm.

'A
damn shame,' I said, agreeing with him. 'You're looking better these days. You
finally find a diet that works? Good for you.'

'What
you talking about? I got cancer. I'm dying. They give me a month, two months
tops.'

'I
heard about your condition, Manny. I'm sorry.' I moved closer to him and
lowered my voice. 'And I was sorry to hear that you reneged on our agreement
and took every dime Elaine had.'

He
flashed me a nasty smile and it was the first time I recognized him as the
Manny of old. I had seen that smile dozens of times before after he had screwed
someone. The smile all but said
what are you going to do
about it, cocksucker?

'Joe,'
he said, still showing that smile, 'you were on the books for over a hundred
large. I took less than twenty out of her. You're lucky I didn't make her work
her ass off for the rest of your balance. Besides, you made me make that deal
under duress.'

He
turned from me, his smile fading. 'What do you want?' he asked.

'I
just wanted to see an old friend.'

'You're
full of crap.'

'Okay,
I want to know why you're lying here every goddam day listening to Phil Coakley
read you the Bible.’

'How's
that your business?'

'It's
my business when Phil's bragging to me that he's going to convert you to Christ
and have you confess all so he can put me away.'

That
comment should have enraged Manny, at least it would've enraged the old Manny.
This one just stared at me blankly, his shriveled face sagging into his pillow.

'Well,
Manny, you see why it's my business?'

His
eyes wavered and he looked away from me. 'He gives me comfort,' he said at
last.

I
just gawked at him, incredulous. 'What the hell are you saying? That you've
found religion? That you're going to confess all your sins so you can go to
heaven? You realize how ridiculous that sounds? Damn it; Manny, is that what
you're saying?'

'I'm
not saying nothing. I'm not going to rat anyone. But even if I did, what
difference would it make? It can't be used in court. It's hearsay.'

'You're
a lawyer now? I got news for you, Manny, a deathbed confession is an exception
to the hearsay rule. Any confession you make can be used in court regardless of
how dead and buried you are. I don't know what crap Phil is filling you up
with, but he's bullshitting you.'

'I'm
not going to rat,' he said, but he couldn't look me in the eye. I knew he was
lying. His mouth screwed up as if he were about to start bawling. 'I'm a dying
man, Joe. What do you want from me?'

'I
want you to keep your mouth shut. If you talk, it's not just me. You'll end up
putting a lot of people away, including your own son. I guarantee you Junior
would go away for a long time.'

He
gave me a look right then that told me he'd already made a deal. The look only
flashed on his face for a second, but it told me everything. If he talks Junior
gets protected.