Authors: Thomas Perry
“To help you,” said Salamone. “I don’t ever want to drive up to this place and find
a hundred-gallon drum with two hundred pounds of unidentifiable goo in it that used
to be you. Am I getting through to you?”
Crane was wide-eyed. “Have I done something that would make him want me dead?”
“I sincerely hope not. What I’m trying to do is explain to you some things that I
had assumed you had learned. You’re a good businessman and a competent burglar. Those
are really good things to be, both at once. What you’re not is
un uomo duro
, a hard guy. It’s not what you’ve done, and you weren’t brought up to it. You should
be glad, and stay away from that stuff. Know your place in the universe, and accept
it.”
Crane was sweating, and his mouth was dry. “Are you saying I shouldn’t have killed
Nick Bauermeister?”
“You wanted the girl, and so you thought with your dick instead of your brain. You’re
human. All I’m saying is that you should have gone about it the right way. If I were
in that situation, I wouldn’t just go out at night with a rifle, shoot him, and expect
to forget it. I wouldn’t do it and then tell Mr. Malconi, ‘By the way, I killed a
guy on my crew.’ I would go to Mr. Malconi first, explain my problem, and ask his
permission to kill the guy. That way, I keep Mr. Malconi convinced I’m not suddenly
becoming a crazy, unreliable man. I give Mr. Malconi a chance to make sure that he,
and anybody he’s worried about, has an alibi, and can’t be connected to it through
me. It also gives him a chance to make sure I don’t get in the way of anything else
his people are doing. Or, if I’m really lucky, he might say, ‘This Salamone is a good
man, but he’s no killer. I’ll tell him to sit tight, and I’ll have somebody else do
it—somebody who’s used to doing that kind of thing and isn’t going to screw up and
get us all in trouble.
’
”
“Mr. Malconi wouldn’t have done that for me,” said Crane. “He doesn’t even know I
exist.”
Salamone looked at Crane again. His face seemed to express simple curiosity, as though
he were seeing a rare creature for the first time. “You’re not getting this. You killed
somebody, which is the kind of behavior that causes trouble, gets you noticed, and
poses a risk to everybody who deals with you. I’m letting that slide because it’s
love, and I’m a sucker for that. But now you want to kill another person, this Indian.
Call it off.”
“I can’t do that,” said Crane. “It’s too late. I’ve hired three guys to get arrested,
add another offense to their records, and then wait around for a month or more for
the Indian to get caught.”
Salamone shrugged cheerfully. “I didn’t say you couldn’t pay them what you offered.
In fact, I’d like you to do that, to tie up the loose ends. You don’t want guys like
that thinking you stiffed them. If you pay them, they’ll be happy that they didn’t
have to do anything to earn it.”
“I really don’t know how to pull this off,” Crane said. “How can I have a secret conversation
with them now that they’re in jail?”
“I’ll tell you what. And I don’t know why I’m doing this, except that I feel sorry
for you. Get me the names and the lockups where they’ve been sent, and I’ll send somebody.”
He paused. “Get them to me today, because I don’t want to lose you. The jails are
just one of those areas that Mr. Malconi controls. If somebody gets killed in there,
it better be something he set up, not you.”
“What can I do to make things right?” Crane’s throat was dry, and his voice came out
in a raspy croak.
“Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Once you give me those names and locations, I’ll get
it called off. And I’ll take care of this problem with the Indian too.”
“I thought you didn’t want the Indian killed. And how can you even do it if even the
police can’t find him?”
Salamone stood up, looked at his watch, and walked to the stairway, then stopped at
the top. “It’s not your place to know any of that. Get me those names in the next
hour. Then the thing in the jail will get called off, the Indian will go to wherever
Indians go when they die, and you will owe me big.”
10
J
ane drove the Chevrolet Malibu past the Legacy Village shopping mall in Lyndhurst
in the eastern part of Cleveland, turned off the highway at the next street, and parked.
She went into a drugstore and bought three prepaid cell phones and three cards worth
three hundred minutes each. She paid in cash for them and walked away. The precautions
she had used in the days when she had been taking people out of the world had all
come back. She had fallen into old patterns again without effort. One day she had
been searching for Jimmy, and the next she had been trying to make sure nobody else
found him.
She kept the car she was using away from the security cameras installed outside stores
by parking on the residential streets nearby and walking the rest of the way. Today
she wore her hair loose so her face would be covered most of the time, and wore an
oversize pair of sunglasses that would have disguised her by themselves. She stepped
into the parking lot, attached herself to a gaggle of shoppers, and walked into the
main entrance of the mall with them. Once she was inside she slipped into the first
men’s clothing store where she wanted to shop.
Jane was being extremely careful for the moment. She had told Jimmy to stay within
the hotel grounds. “It’s only temporary,” she said. “For now, we’ll keep you in the
suite most of the time. You can go down to the pool and swim or work out in the fitness
center on the second floor as long as you do it early in the morning before people
get up. In a few days, when I know more about what’s going on, we may be able to loosen
up a bit.”
Jimmy said, “It’s okay. I guess this will get me used to jail.”
“If we do everything right, maybe we can put that off for a long time.” She patted
him on the shoulder. “I wish I could say you’d never have to go, but I think you will
be charged, and you’ll have to be there until your trial.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m going to be considered a flight risk. That’s my fault.”
Jane said nothing. He had been sensible during the past few days at the hotel. He
had gotten up at four each morning and gone down to the fitness center to exercise,
and then out to the pool to swim. Then he’d come back and cooked himself some breakfast
and read the newspaper that the hotel management left at their door overnight, and
watched television or read the magazines she had brought him until evening, helped
with dinner, and then gone to bed. Jane was glad that he was sane enough to do what
he was told.
Jane had talked to Jimmy many times about the murder. Could he remember ever meeting
a man named Walter Slawicky? Had there been a man with that name in the army, or at
a construction job that he had forgotten until now? Could there have been someone
else with that surname—a woman, or an elderly person? Had there been anyone with Nick
Bauermeister the night of the fight? Had Jimmy ever owned a rifle like the one that
had killed Bauermeister? She
had tried every avenue she could think of to try to stimulate his memory, but gotten
nowhere. Jimmy’s predicament seemed inexplicable. And the idea that anyone would get
himself sent to jail to do Jimmy harm didn’t make sense either.
She walked into their hotel suite, opened the door, and found Jimmy working at the
long counter that held their kitchen appliances. He looked up. “I’m making us some
dinner. I figured we should have the fish you bought today while it’s still fresh.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
He said, “In case you’re worried, I also washed all the silverware and plates the
hotel provided. I set the dishwasher on the nuclear fusion setting. No offense to
the hotel.”
“Nope,” she said. “I’ll never tell them.” She set her bag on the couch, went to the
dishwasher, and opened it. She touched one of the dishes. “It’s certainly hot enough.
Besides, we’re probably immune to microbes after all that time living in the woods
and sleeping on dirt.”
“What’s in the bags?”
“This one has phones. I bought us some throwaway prepaid phones and three hundred
minutes. You get one and I get one, and we’ll use them to talk to each other, if we
need to.” She reached into the bag and pulled one out. “See? They’re small, light,
and simple. You can call or text, but don’t sign on to the Web. I’m setting them to
vibrate, so the ring won’t get us noticed, and programming them so we can call each
other by hitting one button. For now, we’d better call only each other.”
“Right.” He picked one of them up and looked at it.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “There’s already one exception to the no-calls rule. I’m calling
Ellen Dickerson right now.”
“I’ll hold the fish while you do that, and then cook it after you get back.”
Jane dialed the number as she was walking into her bedroom. The familiar voice came
on. “Sge-no.”
“Hi,” said Jane. “You must have been waiting by the phone.”
“No, it waits by me. I have a cell phone like everybody else. Are you both okay?”
“Yes,” said Jane. She felt slightly uncomfortable not telling her that Jimmy had been
hit over the head a few days ago, but he seemed to have recovered.
“Are you eating?”
“Yes. Jimmy is in the kitchen right now with the makings of a fish dinner, which we’ll
have as soon as I hang up. Thank you for asking. The thing that’s been bothering me
most is what you said before—that men are getting themselves into the jail to harm
Jimmy. That isn’t something that happens very often. Have you found out anything more?”
“We still don’t know very much. I told you about the two young men who heard the rumors
while they were in the county jail. We don’t have anybody in there now. We seldom
do. Normally that would be a good thing. It still would be if we didn’t have to worry
about Jimmy.”
“It’s a good thing now, too,” said Jane. “We don’t want anybody getting killed trying
to pry into jail gossip. If there really were men in there waiting to harm Jimmy,
they’re still there. Judges tend to sentence people to jail for thirty, sixty, or
ninety days. If they’re awaiting trial for something serious, it might be a bit longer,
but long sentences get served in a prison.”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” said Ellen. “I’m not an expert.”
“I am, unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry about that, but what you know seems to be what’s keeping Jimmy safe, so
it’s what we need right now. Is there any kind of help we can give you? Send you money
or something?”
“No, thanks,” said Jane. “I brought some with me, and we’re trying to live modestly.
The best thing we can do is keep this small, quiet, and simple. Anything you can find
out about people searching for Jimmy, or meaning to harm him, is important.”
“Is there something we should watch for?”
“Anything. Any strangers who seem to be interested in Jimmy or his case. I know you’re
already helping Jimmy’s mother, and that will help him through this.”
“I’ll call you as soon as we find out anything at all. What number can I use to reach
you?”
“If you get the answer, here’s the number.” Jane read it off the display on her phone.
“But it would be best if you had someone else call from their phone. Jimmy’s case
seems to be attracting attention from so many unusual sources that I’m getting nervous.
Some of the police agencies who are likely to be looking for him are capable of getting
phone records, so the fewer calls between us the better. I’ll get in touch with one
of the other clan mothers if I have a question, so you won’t have lots of calls from
one city.”
“We’ll be waiting,” said Ellen Dickerson. “Your clan is proud of you, Janie, and so
are the others. We all wish you and Jimmy all the strength and courage you need.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“Good-bye.”
Jane tossed the phone on the bed and sat still for a moment, then stood and went back
into the living room and on to the counter and stood beside Jimmy. “No news, really,”
she said. “The mothers wish us strength and courage.”
He set the fish in the hot pan and it began to sizzle. “We’ll have more of both after
we eat this.”
When they had finished their dinner, Jane said, “Nia:wen.”
Jimmy also said, “Nia:wen.”
They both looked at each other for a moment. The word
nia:wen
meant “thanks.” In English it sounded so small and simple, but in Seneca it conveyed
something big and fundamental—thanks to the person who obtained and cooked the food,
to the plants and animals that gave
up their lives to provide them with sustenance, and to the ordered universe beginning
with the earth and water and moving outward into the air and sky and the things beyond
the stars, and to the Creator.
Jane had cooked for her husband, Carey, for seven years already, and every evening
after dinner, she had said it quietly to herself: “Nia:wen.” She was usually the only
one who said it, alone in the kitchen, and although her husband was included among
all the things she was giving thanks for, he seldom heard her say it. But she had
just said it aloud in front of Jimmy, because it was the normal thing for two Seneca
people to do.
They cleared the table and went to work loading the dishwasher and cleaning the kitchen
area. Jimmy said, “I’ll bet you’re getting ready to leave for home.”
“You’d lose,” she said.
“Why? You’ve got me pretty well set up here—a comfortable long-term hotel, a car,
new clothes, and everything. Nobody knows I’m here. I’ll pay you back for all that
stuff as soon as I can, by the way. But I can drive you to the airport in about half
an hour, and you could be in Buffalo an hour or two after that.”
“I’m not ready to leave,” she said. “You would have to show your face whenever you
bought groceries, went to a restaurant, or answered the door. And things happen. If
you made a driving mistake or somebody else did, you’d have to show your license and
registration, and maybe fill out a police report.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “Believe me, I’m delighted that you’re around.
I just thought it was getting to be too much to ask. In fact, it was too much a while
ago.”
“Until I figure out who’s after you, the best thing we can do is keep you out of sight.
Be patient.”
“You sound as though you heard something bad from Ellen Dickerson that you don’t want
to tell me.”
“No,” she said. “She’s heard nothing new. But we don’t need anything new. From the
beginning, it’s seemed to me that there’s something odd that we aren’t understanding.
We have one man who was willing to go to the police and lie about selling you the
weapon in a homicide. Why would he be willing to take that risk? And now there are
some who were getting themselves sent to jail to wait for you—who are they? The only
plan they could have is to kill you. I think we need to be prepared to hold out for
a while before we walk into the middle of that.”
“What does the delay do for us?”
“The same thing staying ahead of the dogs does for a rabbit. He gets to stay alive
for another day.”
The next day Jane went out again, and returned just before noon with several more
shopping bags. After she put away the food she’d bought, there were still several
others.
“What’s that?” asked Jimmy.
“I’m going to teach you more about being hard to find. This is your next lesson. People
looking for fugitives do it with photographs and descriptions and lists of habits.
So change everything about yourself that you can change.” She took out a box with
a picture of a beautiful woman flipping her shiny light brown hair.
“Hair dye?”
“Afraid so,” Jane said. “I picked a shade that’s not ridiculously light, but it’s
lighter than your hair or mine. Our black hair is on one end of the spectrum, and
platinum blond is on the other. If you’re trying to blend into the crowd, the place
you want to be is the middle. This is something I’ve had lots of runners do, because
it’s easy. The best way to use dye is to do it right away, so you don’t meet people
while your hair is black and then switch to light brown. It makes them wonder about
you, and wondering is the worst response you’re likely to get. They’ll think about
you and talk about you.” She set the box aside. “Whether you do it or not is up to
you. You have time to think about it, and if you want to, I can apply it for you.
I’m pretty good.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I’m persuaded.”
“While we’re at it, I should warn you that anytime you use something like hair dye,
make sure that there’s nothing left of the packaging, or the chemicals, or the receipt
from the store. I’ve already bought the coloring this time and paid for it in cash,
so you don’t have to worry about the security cameras in the store. But you don’t
want to leave anything that will tip off the chasers about changes to your appearance.”
The next thing she brought out was a pair of glasses. “Try these on.”
“My eyes are two of the few things I have that are perfect.” He took the glasses.
“As you can see, the lenses are just clear plastic. I also got aviator sunglasses
and photosensitive glasses that darken in sunlight, and some with a dark brown tint.
Sunglasses are a good thing to wear whenever you’re outdoors.”
He put on the glasses, went to the bathroom mirror, and studied himself, turning his
head from side to side. “It’s a different feeling.”
“It’s better than I’d hoped,” said Jane. “You look good, but what’s especially good
is you don’t look like you.”
“I guess I can get used to them.” He took them off and set them on the coffee table.
“That’s the right idea,” Jane said. “Everything you can change should be changed.
If you were fat, I’d try to get you to lose weight. If you were thin, I’d try to get
you into body building. You’re muscular, so I’m weaning you away from T-shirts and
into business casual clothes. If you were illiterate I’d try to get you to carry a
book with you. These mechanical changes are easy and they’re quick. But they’re only
the start.”