Read Honky Tonk Samurai (Hap and Leonard) Online
Authors: Joe R. Lansdale
S
o the others went away, and that just left me and Leonard. I was surprised that I missed them so much. Except Booger. I didn’t miss him at all. We continued to stay at the safe house for a time. With Vanilla gone I didn’t have to lock my door and spend the night in a steamy sweat hoping she didn’t take an ax to the door, because one more time and my resolve might crumble like old cheese.
We found out from Marvin that the material the Barbecue King had given him was good. The super crime ring in Houston came apart quick, with lots of arrests in conjunction with not only the Houston police but the FBI, the latter being kind of ironic. But alliances change rapidly in the world of crime and law enforcement. I’m sure it had a lot to do with what could come out if the FBI didn’t comply.
Marvin had me and Leonard meet him in town at a sandwich shop for lunch, told us all about it.
“Sandy Buckner, she calls herself something else now.”
“We know,” I said.
“I know you know, but I’m just saying. Her days as Lex Luthor are all over.”
Leonard shook his head. “It’s so unsatisfying, being out there on the search, and then when we find her, we find her secondhand. We didn’t actually see her in person, just a photo in the paper.”
“And it turns out she wasn’t worth finding,” I said.
“She is worth sending to prison, though,” Marvin said.
Leonard said, “She stole that money from her grandmother to get herself in the business deeper. Screwed who she had to, backstabbed who she had to, set herself up sweet, and she cared about her grandmother the way a lion cares about a baby gazelle. She got away with her shit for a long time.”
Marvin nibbled at his chicken salad sandwich, said around chews, “That’s right, but thanks to you guys, and to my fine professional police work—”
“What the hell did you do?” Leonard said.
“Kept your asses out of the blender, that’s what I did.”
“Oh, yeah,” Leonard said. “Okay.”
“You killed them all?” Marvin said.
“We won’t answer that on grounds that it might incriminate us and lead to a long prison sentence and possible death by lethal injection,” Leonard said.
“Good reason not to answer. But let’s speak hypothetically, just so I would have some idea what might have happened.”
“Us and a few helpers killed all them son of a bitches,” Leonard said. “I mean, that’s what might have happened.”
“Do I know these helpers?”
“Maybe,” Leonard said. “Some.”
“Went out there to the address you gave, the spot where the body was in the woods,” Marvin said. “Birds had been at that old boy in the woods.”
“One in the woods,” I said. “You’re talking about the fellow who hypothetically got killed near the hypothetical Hummer with the dead bodies in it?” I asked.
“That would be the one, and the dead guy in the road looked like a jelly roll someone had stepped on. Others in the Hummer, and the ones at that fucked-up compound, didn’t look so good, either. Someone was shooting good. Looked like a twenty-two had been at work. Gun like that, had to be some good shooting. And thanks for the tip on the booby traps. That was some sneaky shit they had out there. Tell you something you don’t know. We found a bunch of graves out under the Ferris wheel. Don’t think they were murder victims. The graves were well tended, and there were markers on them but no names. Just numbers. I think it’s their own clan, but we won’t know for sure until they’re dug up, checked for the ways they died, and if there’s a DNA match with the seven dead fellows.”
“They were just some guys,” I said. “Nothing really amazing going on there. The Cancelers were people willing to kill, and there were a lot of them to do it. I pretty much heard that definition from Dougie.”
“That definition could fit you boys, hypothetically.”
“Don’t give Hap any more of a complex than he already has,” Leonard said. “You know and I know the right thing was done. There’s no comparison between us and them. Hypothetically, of course.”
“Of course. Fact is, the feds, they think it was some kind of turf war. You know, other hitters wanting to take them out to take their place or some such theory.”
“So hypothetically,” Leonard asked, “how are the chances for those guys who hypothetically killed those seven guys?”
“If, hypothetically, you did do anything, you are in the clear. Frankly, those boys being dead, and all those balls in jars, nobody gives a shit who killed them. By the way, lunch. You’re buying.”
“You should be buying us lunch,” Leonard said.
“You’re buying for me out of sympathy.”
“And why are we sympathetic?” I said.
“Because everybody be hating on the po-po,” Marvin said.
W
e went over to see Lilly Buckner, but found out from a neighbor that she had been taken downtown to the hospital, and we drove over there. She was in a private room—the last of her money, I guess, or maybe her Medicare. I don’t know. But when I asked the plump female nurse about her condition, she asked if we were relatives.
“No,” I said. “But we know her.”
“You’re the only ones who have come to see her.”
I repeated my question. “How is she?”
“Not good.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Old age. So pretty much everything.”
“Can we see her?” Leonard asked.
“You’re not supposed to,” the nurse said, “but you might as well. She’s awake, but I don’t think she has long.”
“How long?” Leonard asked.
“No one can say for sure, but I can say this for certain. The doctors have given in. She won’t make it out of this hospital alive. I’m sorry to tell you that, but I believe it’s best you know.”
“We’re not really all that close to her,” I said.
“Like I said, so far, you’re all that have come to see her, and we haven’t found any living relatives.”
“And you won’t,” I said, knowing full well there was one, but considering all that had gone down, I doubted they would let Sandy come see her, and I doubted Sandy gave a damn. She had chosen a different path.
We got the room number, rode an elevator up. We went into her room, and she lay in a bed that seemed far too large for her. She was under white sheets with a big white pillow under her head. She didn’t have any makeup on, and she looked even older than before. Her eyes were closed. She reminded me of a starving bird lying in the snow.
I went to one side of the bed, Leonard the other.
We stood looking down at her. I gently took her hand, and Leonard took the other.
She opened her eyes. “You two,” she said, and her voice was as raw as if she had been drinking lye.
“Yeah, us two,” Leonard said.
“So it’s down to this. Two people I don’t really know coming to see me before I take the big siesta…Sandy? Anything?”
“Yes,” Leonard said. “We found her.”
Her eyes brightened a little. “Is she okay?”
“She is,” Leonard said. “She is married and living in Oregon.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” Leonard said.
“You lying son of a bitch,” she said. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?”
Leonard pulled a chair up with one hand but never let go of her hand with the other. I did the same. We sat beside her bed.
“It’s true,” I said. “She’s in Oregon.”
“Why the fuck would she be in Oregon?”
“Maybe she likes the climate,” Leonard said.
“I been to Oregon. I don’t think the climate is all that good. Now, tell me the truth.”
“Truth is,” Leonard said, “she is in Oregon. She got in a bit of trouble with cashing bad checks, so she took your money, meant to pay it back, and then she met someone and got married. You have great-grandkids.”
I thought to myself, wow. Leonard is lying his ass off.
She looked at me. I nodded.
“She was embarrassed to come back and tell you, having taken the money. She was cleaning up her check debt.”
“So you saw her?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “Why it took us so long.”
“She was ashamed more than embarrassed,” Leonard said. “She has two kids, your great-grandkids, two girls. One is named Lilly.”
“She did that?” She could hardly speak now, her voice was so full of phlegm and emotion.
“Yeah.”
“The other?”
“I think she said Buddy,” Leonard said. “I’m sorry. Don’t remember for sure.”
“A girl named Buddy?” she asked.
“I probably have that wrong,” he said.
“Brenda,” I said. “Not Buddy. It’ll be in our report, the correct names. She’d like to come see you, but the thing is, well, she’s kind of wanted in the state of Texas still. The checks.”
“Can’t they arrest her in Oregon?” she said.
“Maybe so, but no one is pushing it,” Leonard said. “I think that’s just an excuse, though. Like I said, she’s ashamed. That’s the main thing.”
“Tell her I don’t care about what she did. Can you do that? I got a feeling this bed is going to be my last friend.”
“Ah, hell, you’re tough,” I said. “You’ll be all right.”
She squeezed my hand and smiled. She didn’t have in her false teeth, so her mouth deeply wrinkled more than smiled. “You two are the biggest fucking liars I have ever known. Thought you really had me buying into that shit, didn’t you? Thought, throw the old lady a bone, like I don’t know when bullshit isn’t strudel.”
“I thought I’d done pretty good,” Leonard said.
“Buddy. What the hell, son? No. No, you didn’t do good. You looked kind of cute telling the story, though. But I appreciate it. A man from the FBI came to see me. Being Sandy’s grandmother and all, he thought I might know some things. He told me a little about her. She fucked up, and now you boys come lying to me because you know I’m dying.”
“Yeah,” Leonard said. “We aren’t worth a shit.”
“What I been trying to tell you.”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” I said.
“You did it out of kindness, not something I’ve received in a while, mostly because I don’t deserve it. Even if I hadn’t spoken with that FBI turd, I still wouldn’t have believed you. But as I was told when I was young, if someone gives you a shitty present, you pretend you like it, because it’s the thought that counts. I’m tired now. So damn tired. Will you sit with me a while?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Good. I’d like that. I still love her, you know?”
“Of course,” I said.
“I thought she’d do well, but she didn’t. She turned out to be a bitch on wheels. She stole my goddamn money because she wasn’t anything other than a goddamn thief.”
“Looks that way,” Leonard said.
“She was here right now I’d punch her in the nose. Course, I’d have to ask her to raise the bed first, puff my pillow, and bend over within reach.”
A small tear rolled out of her right eye.
“It’s such a disappointment,” she said.
“Wish it would have worked out better,” I said.
“Stay with me, boys.”
We did. She closed her eyes and slept, and a half hour later or so, a nurse came in and saw us. Not the same nurse as before. A male this time, but still plump. He looked at us and said, “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“We know,” I said.
“Let me check her vitals,” he said.
He did. When he finished, he stood there looking at her for a moment, and then he looked at us, and said it like he meant it. “I have bad news. I’m sorry. She’s gone.”
I knew that before he did, and I’m sure Leonard did as well. Her hand in mine had turned cold as ice shortly after she closed her eyes.
M
e and Leonard ended up staying at the safe house for another two weeks. Brett and Chance and Buffy were still traveling. I called Brett one Saturday afternoon from the front porch of the safe house.
“You can come home,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “I was about to anyway, hell or high water. We’ve had fun, but I think we’re both a little sick of it. And I don’t like to think I need protecting. Besides, we’re running out of money.”
Leonard went back to his home, and damn if John didn’t come around again, and damn if they weren’t trying again. John wasn’t talking religion anymore, and he brought his sixteen-year-old niece with him. She wanted out of her father’s home, and part of that was due to her having realized that she, like her Uncle John, was gay. She came to live with Leonard and John in the loft, and at least for the time being, things were good for my brother.
The DNA test was in the mail when I got home, and that was two days before Brett and Chance and Buffy came back. I just couldn’t open it. The morning before they were home, I did. The note inside said the sample had been ruined accidentally, and would we like to try again, no charge?
The air went out of me.
Brett, Chance, and Buffy arrived that same afternoon, and I was so glad to see Brett I teared up. Buffy, who seemed like a different dog, happier and more sure of herself, came bouncing up to me with great excitement. She hadn’t forgotten me, or maybe she was just the kind of dog that was happy to see anyone but that asshole who had kicked her for entertainment. Chance was smiling and nervous. She took the news about the DNA test stoically. She hugged me, and I hugged her. Damn, I really hoped she was my daughter.
When I took Brett in my arms, I have to tell you, right then I was glad I had turned Vanilla away. Another heartbeat that night and we would have been at it. I was a little ashamed of how far it had gone, even if I hadn’t initiated it. Jesus, that woman.
But the one who came back to me was every bit as delicious.
More so.
Because I loved her.
W
e sent off the new DNA sample, but we didn’t do it until the fall. I can’t tell you exactly why we waited that long, but that’s how it was. I think we feared the answer might not be what we wanted.
As October blew in with a gust and the leaves turned yellow and brown and blew down from the great oak in the front yard by the curb, I was at peace. It gave me great joy to walk across the yard and crunch those drying leaves underfoot, because I damn sure wasn’t going to rake them up and burn them.
We had done a number of jobs at the agency since Brett came home, and they had all been simple, and even Chance helped on a few occasions. Nothing big—little things, like watching someone who needed watching, making notes and snapping photos from concealment for divorce work, that sort of thing. She had a kind of knack for it, and with her beauty she was easily welcomed most anywhere.
So life was good, and one night in late October, on my birthday, we invited Leonard and John over, John’s niece, and we had a kind of birthday celebration that turned out to be large pizzas and too many side dishes, including Leonard’s favorite, vanilla cookies.
I received a few small gifts, little things I liked, mostly gift cards to food places, a box of animal crackers from Chance, and then it was over and everyone was going home or preparing to turn in for the night. Leonard decided to stay behind awhile and visit, and I agreed to take him back to his loft after an hour or so. We helped Brett and Chance store the remaining pizza away. I put the trash from the feast in a bag, and then we sat and had cups of decaffeinated coffee so we wouldn’t be up all night. Leonard and I talked about the old days, how we had first met as teenagers on a dark night in the Sabine River bottoms. Brett and Chance sat and listened to us talk. We were on a roll.
When the ladies left the room, Leonard said, “Think I’m going to give John one more chance.”
“You said that four chances ago,” I said.
“I mean it this time.”
“Did you not mean it the other times?”
“Not enough.”
“Okay,” I said.
“You don’t fucking think I ought to, do you?”
“It’s not about what I think. It’s about what works—”
“Shut the hell up. Be straight with me. No psychology horseshit. Should I or shouldn’t I?”
“You don’t, you’ll feel miserable,” I said. “You do, you’ll feel miserable.”
“No opinion, then?”
“Frankly, Leonard, I’m fed up with the motherfucker.”
“I should be.”
“You were last time we talked, I think. I lose count. I think you’ve kicked him to the curb for good, next thing I know he’s back greasing your asshole.”
“I get fed up, and then I get over being fed up. Right now I’m over it. One more time into the breach, and you know what I mean, and if it don’t work this time, seriously, I’m out.”
“Brother, you got to make yourself happy if you can. Go for it.”
“Thing is, I don’t know I can. I’m starting to think the best relationship for me is a fresh box of Kleenex and a bottle of baby oil.”
“Eeew.”
The women came back then, and Leonard picked up his coffee and sipped it.
We all visited awhile, talked nonsense, mostly, and then the talk died down and our energy died with it. I decided to take the garbage out before I took Leonard home. I carried the bag out the back door, toward the garbage can. My mind was so engaged with the pleasantries of the evening I didn’t sense the presence of someone in the yard until it was too late. He rose up from between the two garbage cans by the redwood fence, and as he did, I dropped the garbage bag and turned toward him. I was pretty quick for being distracted, but he was quicker.
There was a glint of light on an edge of steel, and I tried to use both hands to catch the man’s wrist, but I was late and the blade was long, and it got me. It went into my stomach, and I groaned. I felt as if a cold wind had washed over me, and there was a numbness followed by a sensation like an electric shock, and then I stumbled backwards and fell against the garbage cans, knocking them over with a loud clatter, but somehow I managed to stay on my feet. The knife, a bayonet, actually, came loose of his hands, and I sort of melted backwards until my back came up against the fence. I clutched at the blade, cutting my hands, making them slick with blood.
He came at me again, bare-handed. I felt strange and detached, like I ought to do something but suddenly didn’t know how. And then there was a great shadow looming behind my attacker, and the shadow struck out with two ridge hands to the man’s temples and dropped him. The shadow was Leonard. The man on the ground turned and grabbed at Leonard’s legs, and took him down. The man tried to scuttle onto Leonard’s chest, but Leonard grabbed him by his jacket and jerked him down close and slapped a palm over one of the man’s ears, a man I now realized had to be Number Eight, the last Canceler.
Number Eight screamed with pain, and then Leonard rolled him over and was on top of him. Leonard hit him in the throat, I think, because I heard a gasp from the man and then a gurgle, and then Leonard’s hand went down two more times, the last in a clawing motion and then a ripping-back movement.
I saw all this as I eased down to the ground with my back against the fence. I so wanted to get up, but my legs weren’t working and my mind seemed to have hit the Pause button. Next thing I knew Brett was bending over me, and she was screaming in a way I had never heard before, and then there was Chance bawling and Buffy was licking my face and whimpering.
Leonard reached down and picked me up and carried me out the redwood gate as if I were nothing more than a small sack of feathers.
Leonard lifted me into the back of the car with Brett, and away we went, Leonard at the wheel. Me holding my stomach with both hands, the bayonet still in me, my head in Brett’s lap, Chance up front beside Leonard. Chance leaned over the seat and touched my face. Her hand was cool.
Number Eight had found out Leonard and I were involved, no mean feat if anyone from the car company had escaped arrest. Hell, Frank, from behind bars, might have given them the word to make it less likely they would pay someone in prison to stick her. It could as easily have been Leonard who had been stabbed. I was glad it wasn’t him. I hoped Jim Bob was okay. Vanilla, I knew, would be long gone and damn near impossible to trace. And Booger. Well, fuck Booger.
As he drove, Leonard yelled from time to time, just some kind of wild exclamation full of fear and disappointment. I thought, happy fucking birthday, Hap.