Stone Quarry Part 2

Chapter 22

Eve unlocked my cabin door, came in long enough to turn the light on in the front room. Her eyes fell on the piano, which gleamed softly. "I am sorry," she said, "that you won't let me hear you play." She smiled her small smile, studied me. "I imagine you're quite good.""No. I'm not."She smiled again, didn't answer.Her eyes swept over the room, came back to me. "Are you sure you'll be all right?""Yes," I said. "Now that I'm here.""Then I'll leave you here. Do you want me to come in the morning with your car?""No. I'll find my way over tomorrow. Thank you, Eve."She took my hand, held it a moment. Then she turned and left.I worked my way out of my jacket, found a gla.s.s and the bourbon bottle. I needed music, and I knew what I wanted: ensembled playing. Music made when people know each other, can antic.i.p.ate and understand each other. I put on Beethoven, the Archduke Trio. I stretched out on the couch, sipped at the bourbon, felt the music flow around me. The soloistic, separate parts of the trio wove, danced, glided forward and back, created together what none of them was, alone.It was an illusion, but it was beautiful.I slept until one the next afternoon. Sometimes after the music was over and the bourbon was gone Id made my way into bed, and after that I was aware of nothing except the strange, sad images of my dreams.When I awoke I was aching and stiff. My head hurt, but not as badly as the day before, not as badly as I'd expected. I stumbled to the outer room, clicked on the hot water, built a fire, put the kettle on. The day was gray again, silent, but with an expectation in the air.I put bourbon in the coffee and made the coffee strong. After it was gone I showered, tried to soothe my aching shoulders under the rhythm of the pounding heat. I shaved, inspected in the mirror the shiner ringing my left eye, blood under the skin from the bullet that might have killed me. I was a mess. You could read the week's acc.u.mulation of trouble on my face.Still, I didn't have to wait long on 30 before a pickup, heading south, stopped for me. Antonelli's was north of my place, and Eve Colgate's house north of that, but before I did what I needed to do today I had to eat."Thanks," I said as I climbed into the truck. "I wasn't sure anybody would stop for someone who looks like this."The driver, a big, unshaven man, laughed a big, friendly laugh. "You kiddin'? Safest guy in the world to be with is a guy who's finished makin' trouble for someone else."We shared a smoke and some idle talk about the nearness of spring. He let me off at the Eagle's Nest, a small, shiny diner that still had most of its original aerodynamic chrome.At the counter I ordered steak and eggs, homefries, toast, and coffee. I took the first mug of coffee to the phone, called the hospital. I asked them how Tony was and they told me he was better, out of danger now. Then I asked for Lydia's room.The phone rang five times and I was about to give up when a groggy voice answered in slurred Chinese."English," I said. "It's me.""Oh, goody, it's you," she said. "Where are you?""At a diner, having breakfast. How do you feel?""Sleepy, and I have a huge headache. Is this what it's like when you have a hangover?""No, a hangover's worse because you know it's your own fault, too. Listen, I'll be up to see you later. I just wanted to know how you were.""I can't wait. Bill, is Jimmy all right?""He wasn't hurt. I haven't seen him since yesterday, but he's okay. Go back to sleep.""Wait. You don't really have Eve's paintings, do you?""No. That was for Grice. It was all I could think of. But now I know where they are. I'm going to get them after I eat.""You do? Where are they?""I'll tell you about it when I come up," I said, and I knew I would. The part I hadn't told anyone, I would tell Lydia. "Hey, Lydia?" "Umm?""You want me to call your mother, tell her what happened?"She sighed, but just before the sigh I thought I heard a stifled giggle. "You," she said, "are an idiot.""Yeah," I said, "I know. I'll see you later."I hung up, went back to the counter, where my breakfast was waiting. I ate, filled with immense grat.i.tude toward chickens and cows, offering a prayer of thanks for grease and salt. The homefries especially were almost unbearably good, burned in the pan, flecked with onions and peppers.Finally finished, I lit a cigarette and worked the room, found somebody who was headed north on 30. He turned out to be a weekender, like me, and as we sped past my driveway and the empty parking lot at Antonelli's we talked about the city and, again, the approach of spring.He dropped me on 30; I caught another ride into Central Bridge, walked the mile and a half to Eve's house. It felt good to walk, even in the dullness of a late winter day that made the promise of spring seem like just another d.a.m.n lie you'd let yourself be suckered, again, into believing.I was halfway up the drive when Leo came charging around from the back, barking, growling, yipping, and wagging all at once. I gave him the jelly doughnut I'd brought from the Eagle's Nest, scratched his ears, looked up to see Eve standing on the porch."Hi," she smiled. "How are you?""Much better, thanks.""Come in. There's coffee and cake."I shook my head. "Later, Eve. I want to finish this."She gave me the keys to her truck and I headed back south. I pulled into the gravel lot at Antonelli's, slowed to a stop close to the door. I let myself in with the keys I had taken from Tony's hospital room.I was steeled for an eerie silence, a sense of something ended, lost. But inside, the tables were set and a strong smell of garlic and oregano came from the kitchen. The jukebox was playing Charlie Daniels. As the door slammed behind me a voice yelled from the kitchen, "Marie?""No," I called back. "Bill."The kitchen door swung open and Jimmy came through wiping his hands on a towel. "Hey, Mr. S.!" he grinned. "You okay? I called the hospital. They said you went home. What're you doing here?""I came to pick something up. What are you you doing here?" doing here?""Oh," he shrugged. "Well, you know. Tony's gonna be in the hospital a long time. That kind of stuff costs a lot. The hospital, they said Miss Colgate was taking care of everything, but that ain't right. You know? I mean, he's my brother. Hey, you want a drink?" He started to move behind the bar."No," I said. "No, thanks. Does Tony know you're doing this?""Nah. He don't want to talk to me.""Did you go up to the hospital?""Uh-uh. He'd just tell me to get lost. That's what he always told me. You know."I knew. I gestured around the bar. "You think you can manage here?""Sure. No problem. I called Marie and Ray. And Allies coming in later, to help.""Alice? Hey, Jimmy, that's great.""Yeah, well, she says just to help. For Tony. The rest of it, she says we'll have to figure it out."We stood looking at each other, suddenly awkward. Then Jimmy said, "So-what'd you come to get?""Jimmy," I asked, "how much did Lydia tell you yesterday?"He grinned, a little color seeping into his face. "I was scared, man. Real scared. She just sorta kept talking, you know, until you guys showed up.""What did she say?""Well, about what happened." He told me what Lydia had told him. It was the same story Id given Brinkman: the truth, except for details of what it was Ginny had stolen from Eve Colgate.And except, of course, for the part Lydia didn't know."Well," I said when he was through, "here's what comes next." I pulled a chair out from the nearest table, sank into it. I got a cigarette going before I went on. "That stuff Ginny stole that turned out to be so valuable? It was also big. Too big for her to take home and hide, and she didn't trust Wally with it.""Wally?""Wake up, Jimmy. He's who she left you for. He was a lot closer to Frank than you were, and that's what she wanted.""Wally?" He shook his head in disbelief. "f.u.c.kin' Wally?" shook his head in disbelief. "f.u.c.kin' Wally?""Yeah," I said. "Anyhow, she needed someplace safe to store this stuff for a while."Light dawned in his eyes. "Here?""She had your keys. She must have known about Tony's bas.e.m.e.nt. She probably figured no one would ever notice."Jimmy flushed. "I told her. About downstairs. I was, like, goofing on Tony one day.""So she hid it there. And she showed it to Frank Monday night. She'd already told him about it, and he was already figuring the angles. At the very least, he could frame you for the burglary and shake down Tony. That's what the fight was about."But when Ginny and Wally took him down here and showed him what they had, he acted cool. He wasn't impressed. Ginny was just a stupid kid, an amateur, he said. He told her to go home, back to daddy.""She must've hated that, being treated like a kid. Like she wasn't tough.""She did hate it. She hated it so much she showed how tough she really was by killing Wally, on the spot.""Yeah," Jimmy muttered. "Yeah, that's what Lydia said. Jesus."I didn't say anything. After a moment Jimmy asked, "Mr. S.? Why did Frank kill her?""She was in his way. She had just gotten to be too much trouble."Jimmy rubbed his hand along his forehead.Neither of us spoke for a long time. The jukebox moved from Charlie Daniels to Crystal Gayle. Finally Jimmy said, "Where is this-this stuff?""In the bas.e.m.e.nt. Come help me with it."We went down the creaking stairs. The bas.e.m.e.nt still had the same dank smell, the same decades of dust covering things that once mattered to someone. The disturbances made by the finding of Wally Gould were already aging, rounding, fading.Jimmy found his way to the middle of the room with an unconscious familiarity. He pulled the chain hanging from the bare bulb and in the light I searched the room from where I stood.I found it immediately, a plywood crate about six by six, partially hidden behind other boxes. It was carefully made, fastened with screws at the corners, and it was practically dust free.Jimmy and I carried it up, maneuvering carefully through the bas.e.m.e.nt door, past the tables and barstools, out into the lot. I let down the back gate of Eve's truck and we hefted the crate onto the metal bed. My sore shoulders ached, my arms trembled a little as I closed the gate again.Jimmy had been silent since we'd entered the bas.e.m.e.nt. Now he turned to me, asked, "What's in it?""Eve asked me not to tell anyone, Jimmy. I'm sorry.""No, it's okay. I sort of-I don't want to know, you know?"I started around to the cab. As I put my hand on the door handle Jimmy said, "Mr. S., I don't get it." He frowned, rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, Tony's gesture."Don't get what?" I asked, but as I said it, I knew."Frank was framing me for killing Wally, right? And Ginny too? That's what Lydia said.""That's right.""But you told that trooper Ginny's body was in the quarry. Why would he, like, ditch her body, if he was setting me up? Is that who came up that night in the rain? To drop her there?" We looked at each other in the dull afternoon light. "Mr. S., that wasn't Frank, was it?"I looked around me, the gravel lot, the tin sign swinging against the graying sky. The air had gotten colder since I left the cabin; there was a bite to the wind.And suddenly I thought, tell him. Maybe something can be salvaged out of what happened here, if he knows. And so I told Jimmy what I had kept from everybody else. "No," I said. "That wasn't Frank. That was Tony."It took him a minute to answer, and when he did his voice was shaky. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?""Tony'd heard what Frank had to say about you. When I found Gould's body, Tony came down to the bas.e.m.e.nt. He knows every inch of it, every broken piece of trash there. He must've spotted the crate right away, knew it didn't belong. Then your keys, the whole frame. He bought it all."Wednesday night he went looking for you. Marie would probably tell us, if we asked. Maybe he closed up early, maybe he just left her in charge. He was on his way to the quarry, I think. I'd told him you were there; I wanted him to know you were safe."But he saw your truck, on the road. He followed it. He didn't know it was Frank and Ginny; how would he know that? He thought it was you."He followed them to Eve Colgate's shed. He stayed back, to see what was going on. He's lucky he did that; Frank would have killed him. But what he saw was two people going into the shed, one coming out. Remember how dark it was that night, Jimmy, right before it rained."The truck drove away, but Tony stayed. Frank must've driven right by Tony's car, never saw him. I checked that road up from the valley. You could pull off and hide in the dark, lots of places."Tony went to the shed. The lock had been cut through; it was easy to get in."And he found Ginny, in a pool of blood on the floor. Your glove beside her. Your truck driving away."He bought this frame, too. Just like the other one.""He thought I did that?" Jimmy spoke slowly. "Ginny, like that? He thought I did that?"I waited before I went on."He took her body to his car. Her body, and the glove. He tried to clean up the blood, but there was too much. So he did something else: He covered it up. With paint, which Eve-which she stores there. With anything else he could find. That mess in the shed? It was only the floor. The windows weren't broken, the walls weren't scrawled on. Only the floor."But just as he started-probably even before he moved the body-I came along. He heard me coming; he couldn't let anyone see. Couldn't let anyone know what you'd done. So he waited, and he hit me, knocked me out.""No, man," Jimmy said. "Uh-uh. If that was Tony, even if he thought it was me, he'd've told you. You, man. You saved my b.u.t.t that other time, he knew that.""I also gave your keys to MacGregor. Tony and I had fought about that. He didn't trust me to protect you, Jimmy. Not when it came to hiding a murder, a fifteen-year-old kid."Jimmy started to speak, but I stopped him."Just before he left he came back to check on me. To make sure I was alive. There was paint on my chin, on my neck, when Eve found me.""No!" Jimmy burst out. "This is crazy! Tony don't even like me! Why the h.e.l.l would he do this? He thought I did something like that? Hide her body and s.h.i.t? And you, man, he wouldn't hurt you. You're his best buddy, man.""Someone called Eve Colgate that night to tell her I was in trouble. And Tony called her place in the morning." I said quietly. "Looking for me, to tell me nothing: I'd gotten a phone call, someone wanted me. He said he'd closed up, gone to my place to find me; when I wasn't there he started calling places I might be. Eighteen years I've been getting phone calls at the bar, Jimmy. When I come in Tony hands me sc.r.a.ps of paper. Did you ever know him to go looking for me before?"Jimmy shook his head, back and forth, back and forth. "No, man. You're crazy. You coulda died out there. Tony wouldn't do that s.h.i.t to you.""I'd've been all right, if it hadn't rained. Tony called Eve; then he went up to the quarry, to dump Ginny's body. He may have seen your light; anyway he knew you were there, but probably the last thing in the world he wanted was to talk to you."And then what could he do? He couldn't come back and find me. What would he have said? All he could do was wait, and wonder if I was all right. And think about you, and what he thought you'd done. It must have been a h.e.l.l of a night."Jimmy stood motionless. His right arm started a gesture, abandoned it, fell back by his side. "I. .." he said, sounding choked; he didn't finish.I turned, climbed into the cab of Eve Colgate's pickup. I put the key in the ignition. As the engine roared to life I leaned out the window, said, "He's in room three-oh- nine, the new wing. Go see him."I backed the truck around, rolled slowly out of Antonelli's lot. I drove with great care; I was very tired.

Chapter 23

The wind was picking up as I turned the truck up Eve's chestnut-bordered drive. Hard dark clouds pushed through the sky from the north.I pulled in front of the house, silenced the engine. The front door opened and Leo bounded onto the porch, left Eve framed in the doorway. She waited until I jumped from the cab, then came forward slowly, walked down the steps and around the back of the truck. She looked at the crate. With her eyes still on it, she asked me, "Are they all right?""I didn't open it."Together we pulled the crate from the truck bed, carried it inside the house, Leo wriggling through the vestibule along with us. The house had a soft, sweet smell, vanilla and brown sugar.We laid the crate on the dining table. I waited while Eve brought a screwdriver. She unscrewed the cover, dropped each screw in the wooden bowl on the cedar chest before going on to the next one. When she was finished she used the screwdriver to pry the cover loose. We each took an edge then, lifted the cover, leaned it on the wall.

The canvases were stacked facedown. Eve touched the top one, pulled her hand back as though it were hot to the touch. She stared a moment longer; then, suddenly, she hefted the painting out of the crate, stood it on the floor against the chair without looking directly at it. She repeated the action, her mouth set in a hard, determined line, like a diver forcing herself over and over into icy water to search for something lost.

Then all six paintings were out, spread around the room, and Eve was standing as still as I was, in the center of the storm.Like other powerful storms, this one was violent, frightening, and heartbreakingly beautiful.Thin razor-sharp wires of color were stretched across canvas, pulled so taut they broke apart; or, released, they bunched together in choking knots. These were colors other painters never found, colors you recognized instantly from the dreams you could never remember.But unlike the Eva Nouvels I'd seen before, these paintings were not dark. The colors twisted, tangled, pierced each other, bled; but the field they were on was luminous, and the color wires glowed against it like lightning against the sun.I was without words, looking from canvas to canvas as the storm raged around me. From the canvases I looked to Eve. She stood silent, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. Her crystal eyes swept each painting, moved to the next. Then she covered her mouth with one hand and began silently to cry.I took two quick steps, gathered her into my arms. Her shoulders felt sharp and thin, made of gla.s.s. She pressed hard against me. I held her more tightly. At first she wept noiselessly; then came great wracking sobs that shook her again and again. I rocked her, smoothed her hair, whispered useless, meaningless words as the storm pounded and battered her.Finally, like other storms, it ended. I held her as long as she wanted, after the sobbing stopped, until she softened, pulled away. She turned without looking at me, stepped out of the circle of canvases, walked to the bathroom under the stairs. The door closed and the water ran for a long, long time.I felt a pressure against my leg. I looked down to see Leo sitting, looking up. He whined, lifted a paw anxiously. I crouched, scratched his ears. "It's okay, boy," I told him. "It's okay."When Eve came out her eyes were pink-rimmed, her lined face pale. She hesitated outside the circle I still stood within, then stepped to my side. "Will you help me?" she asked.We repacked the crate, each canvas facedown, and we tightened the cover. We carried the crate together out the back door, around into the storeroom, which had a new, heavy padlock and hasp. My eyebrows lifted at our destination; Eve saw that and shrugged. She gave me a small, tired smile. "It's where they go," she said.We went back inside. Eve poured coffee, asked me to put some music on. "If you'd like," she added. I found Haydn, string quartets. Eve sliced a pound cake, brought me a piece. It was warm, rich, with a brown sugar glaze. She sipped her coffee, and the music calmed the air.After a while I said, "They're beautiful, you know."She shook her head."You'll probably never see it," I said. "But they are."There was more music, more peace. She asked, "Bill, where were they?"I looked into my coffee, watched the deep blackness release steam, which wandered out of the mug, lost itself in the open air. "They were at Tony's, in the bas.e.m.e.nt," I said. At the look in her eyes, I added, "Tony didn't know."She held my eyes with hers, searched my face. I couldn't tell what she found, but finally she nodded, released me.I left soon after. Leo ran excited circles around us on the driveway as Eve and I walked the short distance to where she'd put my car. It was very cold now, as day edged reluctantly into night. Thick clouds rode the wind. Eve asked, "Will you go back to the city soon?""Lydia will be able to leave the hospital in a day or two," I said. "I'll wait and take her home."She was silent again. The wind gusted icily; there seemed nothing more to say. I opened the car door. "When you come back," she said suddenly, "will you come see me?""It might be a long time, Eve."She took my hand. In the depths of her eyes I thought I saw the jewels sparkle, but I couldn't be sure. She said, "I'll be here."I held her close again, this time briefly. Then we separated. I slipped into my car, started it up, began to move slowly down the drive, away from the house. My headlights caught the trunks of the chestnut trees; I heard Eve, behind me, calling Leo.

I drove back south through a fast-fading twilight. I pa.s.sed Antonelli's, lit now, cars on the gravel, the tin sign dancing in the gusting wind. Fallen leaves skidded ahead of me across the blacktop as the wind changed direction. My lights picked out what was in front of me; everything else was hidden.

By the time I reached the road down to my cabin, it had started to snow.