An Ordinary Decent Criminal Part 12

Claire came around the corner from the dining room on her hands and knees with Fred balanced precariously on her back. He looked somewhere between amazed and terrified as he clung to her shirt. She paused and Fred dug his heels into her ribs and chortled.

"And how was your day?"

Before I opened my mouth, I decided to omit any reference to the kid, Robillard, or his ex-wh.o.r.e wife with the very professional .22. "Boring and kind of fun, how about yours?"

She motioned so I knelt down to hear her whisper while Renfield took the opportunity to lick my ear with considerable force and enthusiasm. "The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are grinding me down."

Fred switched to my back without too much fuss and the three of us headed into the kitchen, me crawling and Claire finally getting to walk.

"I've been doing that for too long. Dinner will be ready in about two hours. I've made lasagna, I hope it's good. I've never made lasagna before, so even if it's bad, pretend it's not. So, what about your job?"

I dumped Fred in his playpen in the dining room and poured a gla.s.s of water.

"It's a convenience store about six blocks away. The customers are mostly jerks, local a.s.sholes mixed with a few lost tourist-type a.s.sholes. On the plus side, the work is easy and the owner's medium smart. The cash register's a b.i.t.c.h, though, very old and crotchety."

"Much like you. When do you work again?"

"Tomorrow, same time."

Claire checked the oven and adjusted the temperature. "So, would it be okay if I went out tomorrow night?"

That made me feel odd and I answered with artificial bonhomie. "Of course."

She sighed and wiped her hands on her jeans. "It bothers you, doesn't it?"

First rule of interpersonal relationships, when in doubt, lie. "No, of course not."

She just sighed again and rested against the counter. "It won't work, you know, I can tell when you lie."

Second rule of interpersonal relationships, when caught in a lie, lie again. "No, really."

She stared at me silently until I wilted. "Oh. Well. Maybe it bothers me somewhat. I'm feeling insecure right now."

She smiled. "Don't worry. I'll come back. It's just that Elena invited me out for a coffee and I'd like to go."

"Elena? The cop?"

"Yes."

"By all means, go. Fred and I will have a fine time, we don't need you, just see if we don't."

She shook her head and bit her lower lip. "There is one other thing. I didn't want to tell you but now I'm not sure."

"What?"

"I've been getting threats, very vivid notes. Apparently the three guys had friends."

Renfield had come in with his Frisbee and I rubbed his ears until he began to twitch and spasm in canine ecstasy.

"Everyone has friends. Even I have friends. Did you keep the notes?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Four. They've been coming in since you were in the hospital."

They were in a jar on top of the fridge and I laid them out on the kitchen table and read them. They were all similar, butcher's paper or sheets cut from a brown lunch bag and crayon with the words spelled out in capitals with no s.p.a.ce between the letters. Out of curiosity, I went up to our room and retrieved the notes that had come with the liquor bottle and the tape and laid them out beside the ones in the kitchen. Claire read over my shoulder and I read them out loud.

"LEAVE, BABY KILLER." "STAY AWAY." "MURDERER." "GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM." "DRINK ME." "LISTEN TO ME."

I said, "Two different people, at least."

"How can you tell?"

"The last note and the one before that, the second-last one especially. The paper is different in those two cases and a pen is used instead of crayons. It's also not smudged or marked up in any way. That indicates two people and maybe more."

I yawned and Claire patted my hand. "You should have been a cop."

I yawned again and stretched.

"No. Even with the bribes, the pay isn't enough. Can I have a nap? After supper I'll go around and make sure the house is sealed tight. Maybe I'll even find our note-wielding maniac."

She patted my hand and sent me off.

"Oh, can you turn on the radio?"

We had put an old AM/FM radio with a ca.s.sette player on a shelf near the door and I flipped it to a local station that played old rock from the fifties and sixties, the only kind of music we could agree on.

"... this just in; a local man has barricaded himself into his home on Ridge Road and fired several shots. Winnipeg police are on the scene and are currently waiting for the Emergency Response Team. Neighbors are unsure whether the man has hostages although he does live with his wife and two teenaged daughters. Just a minute ..."

Claire looked at me and then I went back to my chair and sat down to listen to the breathless announcer.

"... a black panel truck has just driven up and heavily armed police officers are debarking ..."

Claire looked at me and mouthed "debarking?"

"... prominent among them is Detective Sergeant Enzio Walsh, the commander of the ERT ..."

I looked at Claire and shook my head.

"More news to come."

So we waited, my nap forgotten. We waited and we listened to light music, scanning the dial occasionally for more news. The incident was being covered by all the local stations to one degree or another. Claire listened and shook her head. "I never will understand that."

"Hmmm?"

She had poured a gla.s.s of water and sipped it idly while I sat beside the radio and tried to make sense out of what was happening.

"Suicide by police. Kill your wife or kids and then get shot by the cops. Why? You're a man, you tell me why."

"Just because I have t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es doesn't mean I understand all men."

She smiled. Fred was crawling around, awake and rambunctious, getting underfoot and chasing the dog with single-minded attention.

"You must have an opinion, you always have an opinion."

The news came back on and she waved me to silence.

"And in breaking news, the barricaded man on Ridge Road has surrendered to police. During the tense half-hour standoff, a police robot was used to enter the house and locate the man. Although several shots were fired, no one was hurt. We have Simon Maniuk on the scene and he is trying to get a few words with the arresting officer. Simon?"

"Thank you. I am currently talking to Detective Sergeant Enzio Walsh, a decorated police veteran and member of the Major Crimes Unit and the Emergency Response Team. Now, Detective, can you tell me what happened?"

"Certainly. Responding to a call of shots fired, police units arrived and sealed off the area while we determined if there were any hostages. We used 'Baby,' a remote-controlled armored robot, which has infrared, sonic, and telescopic sensors, to enter the home."

There was a pause.

"When we determined that there were no hostages, we used the robot to begin a dialogue with the suspect. The suspect opened fire on 'Baby' so we resorted to non-lethal force to disable the suspect and allow uniformed officers to carry out the arrest."

"Officer, by non-lethal force, what do you mean?"

Claire glanced at me and I silently repeated the sentence in all its awkwardness and she stifled her laughter.

" 'Baby' is capable of delivering various munitions such as flares, pepper spray, and non-lethal 'beanbags,' soft plastic projectiles designed to temporarily disable an offender. There is minimal risk of permanent injury and we only resorted to this when the suspect opened fire with a large-caliber rifle, putting police officers and others in the neighborhood at risk."

"I see."

"Now, I have to go. Please tell your listeners that they're safe. The Winnipeg police force is on the job."

"Thank you officer. This is Simon Maniuk, signing off."

Claire flipped the radio off. "Comments?"

"Hmmm? Cops here have a toy and they like using it, that's no big surprise, cops always have toys. Walsh is used to being interviewed and likes it. Anything else?"

"Right. Actually I was talking about the whole suicide by police sniper. Any ideas?"

"Yep. They're cowards. They want to die and they don't want to pull their own trigger."

She grabbed Fred and hugged him tightly and I hesitated. "There's more. There was an old man in Millhaven, eyes black as pieces of graphite from a pencil, face always slack, hair like fine wire, bad skin, grainy and gray. He killed his kids with a hatchet after he got divorced."

"Why?"

"Claimed his wife would be ruined without him and he couldn't do that to the kids. It wouldn't be fair for them to watch her fall apart."

"What happened?"

"To the old man? He was on serious tranquilizers, real zombie time. They screwed up on his meds schedule one night and he cut the big vein in his groin with a pop-top off a can of Diet c.o.ke. Or was it Pepsi? Bled out, anyway."

Claire was silent and her brow was furrowed in thought before it suddenly cleared. "Aha, the magic p.e.n.i.s theory."

Despite myself, I started to laugh. "The what?"

"The magic p.e.n.i.s. Poke the woman with it and she'll be changed forever. All men are convinced. The guy in Millhaven believed that and acted."

I couldn't help myself, I looked down. "You mean it's not magic?"

She hugged Fred some more and he squealed.

"It's good, it's not that good."

She stood up and kissed me before whispering in my ear. "Don't tell the p.e.n.i.s that, though."

"I won't. I'm going for a walk, I'll be back soon."

She nodded. "I'll put your dinner in the oven."

"s.h.i.t, I forgot ..."

Claire stuck her tongue out at me. "I know, lots to think about. Go."

So I went, my pockets full of quarters, looking for a pay phone a long way from the house and with my head full of various ideas. Most of them unpleasant and some of them downright evil.

17.

As far as walks go, it was productive. Once I found a pay phone, I made sure a few more reporters were still working. I also got to know my neighborhood a little better, checked out ways into it and ways out. Criminal habits, know your routes of escape, just in case you have to use them. Learn the lay of the land, how the area is put together, how the patterns of foot and vehicle traffic interact, where the bottlenecks are. Learn what was there and what was not. I'd been home ten minutes only when the phone rang and I was closest, so I answered. When I put the phone down and turned to Claire, she was drinking a cup of reheated coffee by the sink.

"I'm fired."

She put her cup down. "Why?"

"Marquez didn't say. He just said he didn't need some piece of s.h.i.t like me and don't come in tomorrow."

I let it sink in. "I've never been fired before."

Her eyes went opaque for a moment and then she took another sip. "Go talk to Marquez."

"Why?"

She grunted in an unladylike fashion and poured the rest of the cup into the sink. "Why not? It beats sitting around and not knowing."

I looked at the phone and started to pick it up, when she stopped me. "Go in person."