First Avenue (37 page)

They were moving up the alley already with
Sam
in front and
Henry
hurrying behind as
Sam
gave the last of his instructions. When they arrived at the steps that led down to the subterranean sidewalk,
Sam
pulled his gun out of its holster.
Henry
stopped at the steps and stared with wide eyes at the gun.

“Get going,
Henry
. Get me some help right away.”

Henry headed up the alley in what was probably as close to a run as he had come in many years.
Sam
’s eyes refocused on the doorway, which was all that he saw now as he crept toward it. He hugged the wall like a cat not wanting to stir the mouse.

Stiff-armed, he held the pistol at his side. He stopped at the closed door and listened for noise inside. He heard none. He tried the doorknob with his left hand and kept back pressure on the door as he twisted it. Fast or slow? Slow, he decided. He crouched down and pushed gently on the door. Nothing happened. He pushed harder, hard enough to convince him that the door was bolted from inside. Fast, he decided. He stepped back and kicked the door above the doorknob. The wooden door exploded open and flashed the room to him as the door snapped back. His foot blocked the rebounding door, and he crouched again at the opening. His eyes adjusted to the dim light.

“Police!” he shouted. “Everybody freeze!”

Nothing happened. He saw no one. At the far end of the room there was another door standing open. Without hearing or seeing anything directly, he knew somebody was there. With both hands now holding his gun, he moved forward while at the same time looking for something that would offer protection. There wasn’t much—cardboard boxes stacked in the middle of the floor and smaller boxes on wooden shelves against the walls. Cardboard was not the protection he hoped to find.

He approached the second door and tried to shrink himself behind the jamb. Carefully he craned his neck so that one eye began to take in the room. It was a storeroom, too. Empty shelves and a table tipped on the floor. Standing in the corner were
Maria
and two boys with no place to go and no place to hide. Perfect, he thought, except for the look on her face and the fierce boy behind her holding her around the neck. Both of them were shaking.
Maria
’s arms were clutching her chest, and she was crying without any sound. Her face was bruised, and blood oozed from her nose and mouth.

“Let her go!”
Sam
commanded.

“We’re getting out of here,” the boy answered with a scared and shrill-sounding voice. “Get out of the way, or I’ll break her neck.” He motioned for the other boy to move away from them. The second boy inched away as instructed. He held a stick at his side.

“You move and you’re dead,”
Sam
said and pointed the gun squarely at the second boy. It was enough to bring his tentative movement to a halt. “Let the girl go. I got a million cops on the way.”

“I’ll kill her!” the boy holding
Maria
shouted.

Sam refocused the pistol. There was a perfect line from the boy’s eyes through the gun sights to his own eyes. “No you won’t,
Richard
. You’ll be dead before you have a chance to move. Let her go.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed to absolute attention on the gun sights. His arms dropped away from the girl.

“Come over here,
Maria
,”
Sam
said. He did not move his gun sights from the boy’s unblinking eyes. “It’s okay now.”

Maria moved carefully away from the boy. When she was within reach, he guided her behind him and instructed the two boys to step back to the far wall. He had them turn toward the wall and raise their hands above their heads.

“Put your hands on the wall.”

The boys leaned forward with their hands on the wall. In the distance he heard a siren and then more sirens.

“We’ve got help coming,” he told her softly. “We’ll be out of here soon.”

Sam hoped the first cop through the door had received the entire message he had given
Henry
. He was not in a great position—holding a gun in a basement room with cops not knowing what to expect. For the first time in a long while, he wished he were wearing his uniform. He lowered the gun to his side and took the badge case out of his hip pocket. It was the only uniform he had.

“
Maria
, move over there a little bit,” he said and gestured to the corner away from the two boys. “Sit down on the floor.”

She followed his instructions, although it was clear she didn’t understand why she needed to move away from him.

From the outside door a flashlight beam began searching the room despite the overhead bulbs.
Sam
held his badge up so that it could be seen from the door. “Police officer inside,” he shouted as loudly as he could. “I have two suspects under control.”

“That’s him.” It was
Henry
’s excited voice. “He’s the one told me to call.”

Sam breathed easier, but he knew there was at least one gun pointed at him. Probably more. He was careful not to make any sudden move. The light found his badge and then his face.
Sam
turned away from it so that his vision would not be affected.

“That you, Wright?”

It was an acknowledgment most welcome, and quickly there were six or seven cops in the room. Two officers handcuffed the boys and dropped them face-down on the floor.

Sam went over to
Maria
. He kneeled down and gently touched her face. “How badly are you hurt?” he asked. He looked for signs of injury beyond the cuts and bruises.

“It’s not so bad,” she said. She didn’t flinch from his hands.

“I’m sorry about this. I never expected this.”

“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have come down here.”

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

She looked beyond him at other cops who had gathered close around him—too many and too close.
Sam
stood up and turned away from her.

“I need a little room. Let’s get those guys out of here,” he said, pointing to the boys on the floor. “Somebody transport them for me and put them in separate holding rooms.”

His friends in blue began clearing the room. The boys were jerked to their feet and hustled out the door. One officer remained in the doorway.
Sam
kneeled down again to
Maria
.

“Tell me what happened,” he said again.

“
Pierre
said he wanted me to clean the basement. He had
Bill
show me where to go. He said we needed paper cups. After
Bill
left, those two guys came in. They closed the door. I tried to get away, but I couldn’t. They wanted to know about you.”

“Me?”

“They said, ‘What did you tell the cop?’“

“Did they see us together?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t tell them anything.”

The girl had held up well, but this was a memory that broke her. She drew up her knees from the concrete floor and covered her face. She began sobbing.

“It’s okay,
Maria
,”
Sam
said. “It’s okay. Take a breath. That’s it. I have to know what happened.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. Strong shoulders. Her face looked like she had put up quite a fight. She tightened the muscles around her mouth and looked up. Tough girl, he thought. Too tough for a girl so young.

“Did
Pierre
know anything about this? Did they say anything about
Pierre
?”

“He knew.”

“Did they mention his name? It’s important to remember.”

“They didn’t say his name, but he knew. He knew.”

“I know he did,
Maria
. At some point, we have to prove that.”

Then he remembered the photographs in his coat pocket. He cleared his throat and slowly drew them out of his coat.

“You remember that man you told me about in the bookstore with
Pierre
?”

She nodded her head.

“Can you look at these pictures and tell me if you see him?”

She took the photographs from him. They were all the same size.
Markowitz
had trimmed off the arrest numbers from three of them. The fourth never had a number.

Her hands shook as she went through them. She paused a few seconds longer on
Jamison
’s picture, the third in the batch, but then went to the final picture.

“He’s not here.”

“You’re sure?”
Sam
asked. “He might be a little older now.”

She went through them again quickly without hesitating. “He’s not here.”

“Okay. That’s fine.” He took the pictures back. He was relieved that none had been picked.

“Who were those men?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s get you out of here. Can you get up okay?”

He helped her up. When she was steady on her feet, he held her arm as they walked into the next room. He looked for the friendliest face and picked a young woman officer he didn’t even know. He asked her to take
Maria
to
Harborview
Hospital
for a checkup. “Stay with her,” he cautioned.

On their way to the door,
Maria
stopped and looked back at him.

“I’ll be seeing you real soon,”
Sam
said.

His words almost made her cry. Maybe she wasn’t so tough after all.

He posted one officer at the basement door to seal it off and took the last two officers with him around the corner to the Donut Shop.

Surprise, surprise, he thought. The doughnut business had gone to hell. The surly man-boy,
Bill
, was alone behind the counter.

“Where’s
Pierre
?”
Sam
asked him.

“He’s not here.”

“When did he leave?”

“I been too busy to notice.”

“I’ll bet you have. Business is closed today. You sit over there until I’m ready to talk to you,”
Sam
said. He pointed to a table away from the window.

For a moment Sam thought Bill was going to smart off in his inimitable way and give him an excuse to “place” him in the chair, but instead, he kept his mouth shut and slouched over and down into the designated seat.

Progress,
Sam
thought. We’re making progress.

From inside the Donut Shop Sam watched First Avenue go about its business. Few tried to enter the locked front door. Those who did turned away upon seeing the scribbled sign. Although he would have preferred writing “Closed Forever,” it had given him satisfaction to post the notice of temporary disruption.

He had made certain that
Henry
disappeared down the street before the wrong people, whoever they were, would take notice of his odd presence. Now with
Henry
gone,
Sam
wished he had been clearer with his gratitude. The old man had paid for the shoes in full.

Markowitz had come, summoned by his call. Together they questioned
Bill
. It would seem the boy had appeared out of air because he knew nothing about anything. He was master of the surly shrug, and so embedded was it in his personality that
Markowitz
started calling him that. “Okay, Shrug,” he finally said, “we appreciate all your help. You’re free to go.” Apparently Shrug didn’t understand that phrase because he scowled as though told to stand on his head. “Go,”
Markowitz
said again for Shrug’s benefit. Shrug went but with obvious reluctance. He would have had the same reaction if he had been told to stay. He posted himself on the corner a few minutes, then disappeared into the air that birthed him.