Heat (18 page)

J
esse was leaving his office on Wednesday, two days before the beginning of his honeymoon, when Pat Casey pulled into the parking lot in his squad car.

“Hey, Jesse,” Casey said.

“Evening, Pat.”

“Jack Gene wants us up at his house for a meeting.”

“When?”

“Right now.”

“Let me go back inside and call Jenny; I don't want her to worry.”

“Forget about that; get in.”

Jesse got into the patrol car. “What's up?”

“You don't ever ask that when Jack Gene calls a meeting; you just go.”

“Glad to,” Jesse said mildly. He did not speak again on the trip.

They were greeted at the door by an attractive young woman, not the same one Jesse had seen on his last visit to the house, and shown to Coldwater's study. Coldwater and Kurt Ruger were already seated
on a sofa before the fireplace, and Coldwater indicated that Jesse and Casey should sit opposite them.

“How's married life, Jesse?” Coldwater asked.

“Couldn't be better,” Jesse replied, smiling.

“Good, good, glad to hear it. Jesse, it's time we had a talk about something that's been going on for some time, and it concerns you.”

Jesse nodded. He didn't like the sound of this.

“You've been accepted into our midst, Jesse, but I've never really talked to you about what that means, have I?”

“Not specifically,” Jesse replied.

“In order to keep the coherence of our group, I require a very high degree of loyalty from my congregation.”

Jesse said nothing.

“Have I ever told you what loyalty means to me?” Coldwater asked.

“No, sir, not in so many words, but I've had the strong impression that you would not have told and shown me the things you have unless you felt I was capable of loyalty.”

“You're quite right, Jesse; I always seem to be underestimating you. You've understood from the beginning without my spelling it out for you.” Coldwater rewarded him with a large smile.

“Maybe you'd better spell it out,” Kurt Ruger said suddenly. “That's the only way of being sure.”

“Of course, Kurt,” Coldwater said smoothly, but he seemed miffed by the interruption. “First of all, Jesse, I don't think I have made it clear to you the sort of rewards that are available to the people who are loyal to me.”

“I've never asked for any reward,” Jesse said.

Ruger interrupted again. “But you knew there was something in it for you, didn't you, Barron?”

Jesse turned and looked directly at Ruger. “Kurt,
when I came to this town only a few months ago, I was at rock bottom. I had lost my wife and children and my business, and I thought I might go crazy. Since I've been in St. Clair I've come to have good work, a wonderful wife and little girl and the friendship of the people of the First Church. My life has been transformed, and I just don't know what more reward than that I could ask for.”

“Don't get sanctimonious with me, you—” Ruger began.

Coldwater cut him off. “That's enough, Kurt. You apparently don't recognize gratitude when you see it.”

“Jack Gene, I only meant that—”

“I said, that's enough.”

Ruger stopped talking and looked at the floor.

Coldwater turned back to Jesse. “Jesse, you've proven to me that you want to be a part of what we have here, and I think you're ready to play a more important role in our community.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jesse replied.

“From today, you are going to be a part of, shall we say, management. There are three divisions of our group; Pat, here, is charged with protecting us from outsiders who might harm what we stand for. Kurt is the financial director of our organization; nominally, he is president of the Bank of St. Clair, but what he does is far more important than that. Kurt marshals our resources, invests in income-producing ventures and, through what you might call sub-managers, directs, in a broad sense, the operation of those ventures we own. I am the third and higher arm of the organization. In general, I administer our affairs, and I take a great interest in what both Pat and Kurt do in their daily work.”

“I see,” Jesse said.

“Good. Now, ever since the three of us came to St. Clair, an essential part of the financial structure of this
community has eluded us, and the time has come when we can no longer tolerate that.”

Jesse knew what he was getting at now, and he was both relieved that there was no new suspicion of him and worried about what was about to be said.

“The only business of any size in this town that we do not control is St. Clair Wood Products,” Coldwater said. “We have made repeated offers to Herman Muller for the business, but he has always rejected them, and my patience is wearing thin.”

Ruger spoke up again. “Did you know about this? Has Muller ever mentioned this to you?”

“Herman has never mentioned it, but on the day I went to work out there, you and another man were in his office, and I got the impression that you had made him some sort of offer that he hadn't accepted.”

“Did you hear what was said?”

“No, I was sitting in the waiting area, and Herman's office is glassed in. It was pretty obvious what was happening.”

“I see,” Ruger said, then was quiet again.

Coldwater spoke up again. “Eventually, we will control Wood Products, and when we do, I want us to be able to operate it efficiently. Are you getting an overview of how the business is run?”

Jesse nodded. “Yes, sir. That's what Herman has said he wants me to do. Before he promoted me, he seemed to run every aspect of the business personally, and he still does; but he seems to feel that he needs some backup. I have to tell you, though, that I don't see how anybody could run that business more efficiently than Herman does. There isn't an ounce of fat in that company, and I'm sure its profit margins must be much higher than for most businesses of the same kind.”

“Has he revealed any of the financial operations to you?” Ruger asked.

“No; he takes care of that himself. He signs every paycheck, every purchase order, makes every decision to do with money.”

“So you have no real idea of the financial condition of the company?”

“I don't see how it could be anything but very healthy. Herman has never hesitated to order new equipment when we need it, and he pays every bill the day it comes in. You must have some idea of his financial condition, since you're the only bank in town.”

“He doesn't bank with me, except for a small account; he banks in Coeur d'Alene.”

“I didn't know that,” Jesse admitted.

“Where does he keep the books?” Ruger demanded.

“He does it on computer. I've never seen a ledger in the office.”

“Do you use the computer?”

“I do for word processing, that sort of thing. Once I wanted to see if a particular bill had been paid, but when I tried to access the check register I was barred. Herman apparently uses some sort of password to get into the bookkeeping software. And I've never seen any ledger printouts.”

“You don't know the password?”

“No.”

“Could you find out what it is?”

Jesse shrugged. “I don't know. Herman sits in a corner of his office, and the computer screen faces the corner.”

“Jesse,” Coldwater said, “I would be very grateful to you if you could learn what that password is.”

Jesse thought fast. He was being asked to betray Herman Muller, and he didn't like that. On the other hand, if he resisted doing so, Coldwater would be unhappy with him, and he might lose much of the good will he had built up. “I'd be glad to try,” he said.

Coldwater smiled broadly. “Thank you, Jesse.
Now, as I said before, I'm elevating you to a management level with us, and you will find there are many benefits at this level of trust. First of all, you will be put on a salary of ten thousand dollars a month.”

Jesse had no trouble looking stunned.

“It will be paid to you by Kurt in cash each month, so there will be no need to mention it to the Internal Revenue Service.”

“Why, that's wonderful, Pastor,” Jesse managed to say.

“In addition, any medical treatment you or your family may require will be made available to you, free of charge, at our own clinic in town, and you will find there will be other benefits.”

“I hardly know what to say, sir,” Jesse said.

“Say nothing, but I will count on your help in acquiring Wood Products.”

“I have a lot of respect for Herman Muller,” Jesse said. “I hope that he will be treated fairly.”

“More than fairly,” Coldwater said, standing to indicate that the meeting was at an end. He stood for a moment, making small talk with Ruger and Casey.

Jesse now had an opportunity to look at the bookcase opposite the fireplace. He had not noticed it on his first visit, but the books in the lower part now seemed to be only spines. He wondered how to get at the safe. Something else caught his eye, too: at one end of the bookcase was a compartment that held a couple of dozen rolled-up blueprints. There were too many for just a house; they must be for some larger structure.

“Have you thought any more about a honeymoon, Jesse?” Coldwater asked suddenly.

Jesse started. “Yes, sir. We're going to San Francisco for a week starting Friday.”

“Good, good. Where are you staying?”

“I don't really know; I thought we'd find a room when we got there.”

Coldwater turned to Ruger. “Kurt, arrange a nice suite at the Ritz-Carlton for Jesse and Jenny, and have the bill sent to you. And be sure that Jesse gets his first month's salary before he leaves on Friday.”

“That's extremely kind of you, sir,” Jesse said. Certainly, he could use the ten thousand dollars.

“Don't mention it,” Coldwater said. “A couple needs to get away alone when they've just been married. What will you do with the child?”

“She's going to spend the first weekend with us, but she'll fly back on Sunday, so that she'll be in school the next day. We didn't want her to miss school.”

“Yes, yes, quite right,” Coldwater said. “I'm surprised you'd want a child on your honeymoon.”

“Carey and I get along very well, and we didn't want her to feel excluded,” Jesse explained.

“I see. Well, thank you for coming today. I'll look forward to your reports on Herman Muller and his business.”

He shook Jesse's hand, then Casey drove him back to the plant.

As Jesse got into his truck he made a note to have a serious conversation with Herman Muller before he left. After Friday, he wouldn't be around to help the old man, and he felt sorry about that.

J
esse woke up feeling elated. It was his last day in St. Clair, and he couldn't wait to get out of the town with Jenny and Carey. Jenny was no less excited than he; he could see her restraining herself at breakfast, talking casually with Carey about the sights of San Francisco.

“When is your science project due?” Jesse asked Carey.

“In two weeks,” the child replied.

“We'll be back in plenty of time for me to help you, then,” Jesse said.

“We're not supposed to have any help,” Carey said.

“Oops, sorry.”

“Well, maybe you could help a little,” she said, smiling.

“You work on it next week, and if you have any questions, make a list and I'll answer them when we come back.”

“Okay, Jesse.”

 

At lunchtime Jesse put on his coat and boots and took his periodic walk in the woods, the telephone hidden in the bottom of his lunchbox. He took a fork in the path that went along the mountainside; there was a steep drop off to a stream two hundred feet below, and he kept to the inside of the narrow path. The skies were low with heavy cloud; it looked like snow before the day was over. He ate his sandwich slowly, thinking about what was ahead. He knew a life on the run was not going to be easy for any of them. The telephone weighed heavily in his pocket; he had one more call to make to Kip Fuller, and the single purpose of that call was to buy time.

“This is Fuller.”

“It's Jesse.”

“Did you get the camera all right? Our man said he couldn't make a straight pass at the restaurant.”

“I got it, but I haven't had an opportunity to use it.”

“What else is happening?”

“I've been promoted to management.”

“At the factory?”

“No, in Coldwater's organization. He likes me, but Ruger doesn't.”

“What's the problem with Ruger?”

“I don't know. Certainly I'm too far down the pecking order to be any sort of threat to him. It may have something to do with the fact that Herman Muller trusts me, and he'll barely speak to Ruger. Coldwater wants Wood Products, and he's going to use me to get it.”

“How?”

“Right now all he wants is information about the business. It's wholly owned by Muller, and he plays his cards very close to his chest. He even banks in Coeur d'Alene to avoid dealing with Ruger.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Play along, for now. If I don't, Coldwater might
move a lot faster, and Muller could get hurt. It's possible that they took out the man's grandson a while back.”

“Have you learned anything new about Coldwater's organization?”

“No, but I'm in a better position to do that, now. If I can get Wood Products for him, he'll think I hung the moon. The man likes me, that much I can tell.”

“Do you like him?”

Jesse hesitated, thinking about what Coldwater had done to Jenny. “He's a likeable fellow; every con man is.”

“I've got some news; Arlene had a baby boy yesterday; nine pounds, one ounce.”

“Kip, congratulations; that's wonderful news! You've waited a long time.”

“We're thrilled, of course. I had almost given up.”

“Now that you know you can do it, you'll have to have some more kids.”

“I think one more will do me. Listen, Jess, you've got to get back into that building somehow. My people here are really on my back about this.”

“I was at Coldwater's the day before yesterday, and I noticed a lot of blueprints in his study. If you bust him, then you ought to make his house your first target, get in there and clean it out. Those plans would tell you a lot about the fortifications.”

“Good idea, but I'm not going to get to bust anybody until you get me those photographs.”

“Kip, I can't just ask to go back in there and have a look around. I've got to wait until Coldwater feels the need to take me back inside there, and you're just going to have to be patient. Unless, of course, you want to just pour in here and nail the lot of them right now.”

“You know I can't do that, Jess.”

“Kip, if this ends badly, I want you to remember that I did what I was ordered to do; that I got you everything you need to indict.”

“Jesse, you know goddamned well that, if it were up to me, I'd be in there today with a dozen swat teams, the army, if necessary. But I answer to other people.”

“You make sure Barker remembers what I said,” Jesse said hotly.

“That I'll do.”

“Listen, Kip, I'm not going to be able to call for a while. I'm under a lot of scrutiny right now, especially with Ruger's attitude being what it is. Every time I leave town there's somebody on my tail, and the house may be bugged, too.”

“You've been leaving town?”

“Just to go to Coeur d'Alene on business.”

“Jesse, if you go any farther afield, I want to know about it, you hear?”

“Sure, Kip. I'd better go now; I'm due back at the plant. You give my best to Arlene and the new baby.”

“I'll do that, Jess. You call me as soon as you can.”

Jesse broke the connection and put the phone back in his pocket. It had started to snow, and he turned to retrace his steps to the plant. As he did, he found himself looking down the barrel of an automatic pistol, maybe six feet away.

“Just hold it right there,” the man said. “I heard all of that; I'll take the phone.” It was the young man who had followed him to Coeur d'Alene on his last trip.

“What's going on?” Jesse asked.

“I said, I'll take the phone. Toss it over here.”

“Why do you want my phone?” Jesse asked.

“If you don't throw it over here right now, I'm going to shoot you someplace painful. Nothing fatal, just painful. You have a lot of questions to answer, my friend.”

“You want the phone, you can have it,” Jesse said. “Just don't get careless with the gun. When I've had a chance to talk to Coldwater you're going to see this in a different light, and it would go a lot better for you if there weren't any holes in me.”

“The phone,” the man said.

Jesse pointed to his pocket. “It's in here.”

“Take it out very slowly and toss it to me.”

Jesse slowly removed the telephone from his pocket, and, holding it in two gloved fingers, tossed it high and to the right of the man. As he had hoped, the man's gun hand swung around in the direction of the phone. Jesse took two running steps and dived at that hand.

The two men hit the ground together, dangerously close to the outer edge of the path. If they went off together, Jesse thought, he hoped the other guy would be on the bottom. He doubled his grip on the man's wrist and twisted outward. The pistol fell into the snow. Jesse got the man's arm behind him and shoved his wrist up between his shoulder blades.

The man screamed.

“Shut up, or I'll break it off. What the hell are you doing following me with a gun?”

“You'd better let me go, if you know what's good for you.”

Jesse twisted the wrist again. “I asked you a question, and if you want to live through this little meeting, you'd better start talking.”

“Ruger sent me,” the man grunted.

“Not Casey?” Jesse asked, surprised. Casey handled security.

“It was Ruger; I've been following you for a couple of weeks. Now do the right thing; let me go, and let's go see Ruger.”

Jesse didn't have to think about that for very long. There was only one possible result of this meeting, and it wasn't seeing Ruger. He grabbed the pistol, then got to his feet still holding on to the man's wrist. “All right,” he said, “we'll go see Ruger, but not with a gun in my back, agreed?”

“All right, agreed,” the man said. “Just ease off on my arm, okay?”

“Which pocket do you keep the pistol in?”

“Shoulder holster, left side,” the man said.

Jesse reached inside the man's coat, found the holster, wiped the snow off the gun and shoved it into the holster. He also found a leather tab and snapped it across the trigger guard. “All right, do I have your word you won't draw that again?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man said. “Now,
please let go of my arm
.”

“Sure,” Jesse said. First he turned the man so that his back was to the steep slope, then he let go of the arm. Then Jesse hit him once, in the gut. He made himself watch as the man left the path and started down. There was one short scream that ended when his head struck a boulder, then the limp body ricocheted down the slope and free fell the last hundred feet to the stream below. The man ended up face down in the stream, wedged between two rocks.

Jesse sat down for a minute and tried to restore his breathing and his thinking to normal. The man was dead, that was sure; either the blow to the head had done it, or he would drown in the stream. He found it strange how easy it was to kill somebody when his own life was in danger. He looked around him; the snow, now falling heavily, was already obliterating signs of a scuffle. In ten minutes the whole area would be covered. Jesse waited the ten minutes before going back to the plant. He had two choices: say nothing and get on that plane tonight; it might be days before they found the man; or play innocent and try to carry it off.

He ran the last two hundred yards; he had to be out of breath when he reached his office and telephoned Pat Casey.