“Do what, go in their house?”
“You’re allowed to, aren’t you? Look for drugs, anything a guy on probation isn’t supposed to have?”
“You’re
using
me,” Kathy said. “I go in and look around you’ll take me to dinner, uh? Is that the deal?”
“I just thought of it this minute, honest.”
“You tried for a warrant and the judge turned you down.”
“That part’s true, I happened to get a judge, he’s either a civil rights nut or doesn’t care if Gibbs gets shot. I haven’t figured out which.”
“I love that line, you can’t imagine us dealing with offenders,” Kathy said. “But it’s okay if we’re helping out a cop.”
“My timing wasn’t too good,” Gary said, and paused, his eyes on the road. “It’s not a bad idea though, is it? If Dale’s there you get a chance to talk to him?”
“If he isn’t I can still look for the gun.”
“It’s up to you. If you don’t want to do it, I understand.”
“You’ll still take me to dinner?”
“Wherever you want.”
The thing was, she liked the idea of doing a search. Doing no more than her job, really, but now it was police work and that added some excitement.
She said, “Okay, but what if Elvin won’t let me in?”
“He has to.”
“You mean he’s supposed to.”
• • •
H
e was sitting on the front steps with a longneck, cowboy hat down on his eyes in the late sun, bare arms across his knees in a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off. His hat, eye-level to Kathy, showed sweat stains and crimps she hadn’t noticed before. Here was the ex-con model repeat-offender. And here was Gary Hammond in his navy-blue suit giving Elvin a friendly hello. “How you doing?” Introducing himself, showing the shield pinned to his belt. “I wonder if we could go inside, have a talk.”
“I like it here,” Elvin said. “I get to watch your buddies in the Thunderbird up the street there. They got everybody around here ready to flush their product down the toilet.”
Kathy stepped closer. “Elvin, where’s Dale?”
“I ain’t seen him.”
“His truck’s here.”
“He’s letting me use it.”
“You’re working?”
“I told you I was, didn’t I?”
“Doing what?”
“This guy over in Ocean Ridge hired me to keep an eye out, see nobody messes with him. He’s a rich doctor.”
“What’s his name?”
“I call him Dr. Tommy, and that’s all I’m gonna tell you.”
Gary got into it saying, “Were you there the night before last, Elvin, at the doctor’s?”
“Let’s see, what was that, Thursday? I might’ve been.”
“We can check if you don’t remember.”
“No, you can’t. It’s against the rules to tell my employer about me if I might get fired.”
Kathy said, “Where’d you hear that?”
“From a guy I know was on probation one time. Hey, but I wasn’t over there anyway. No, I remember now, I was in Lake Worth getting a blowjob. In the front seat of that pickup there. You want to check, her name was… Shit, I forgot her name. Cute little Hi-spanic piece a ass. Like her,” Elvin said, looking at Kathy.
She said, “I want you in for a urine test Monday.”
“Is this for disease or dope? I don’t do any dope. Never have.”
“If I tell you to come in for a test, you come in. It doesn’t matter what it’s for.”
“I’ll piss for you right here,” Elvin said, “in this beer bottle. You can take it with you.” He opened his legs and let one hand slide down the inside of his thigh.
“You’re out of line,” Gary said.
Elvin looked at him. “Is that your opinion?”
“Why don’t you behave yourself?”
“Why don’t you get fucked?”
Kathy stepped in, raising a tennis shoe to the first step. “I’d like you to move out of the way, Elvin. I’m going in the house.”
“Dale ain’t in there, I told you.”
“Are you gonna move?”
Elvin said, “I don’t see why I should,” looking at her with those stupid eyes under the hat brim, thinking this was funny. “What I’m wondering is why you brought this dink along says he’s a police officer. Shit, I thought he was your sister.”
“I’m going in the house,” Kathy said. She started up the steps past him. Elvin put his hand out, touched her stomach and she grabbed a finger, the middle one, not the one she wanted, tried to bend it and he grinned at her holding it stiff. “Move,” Kathy said, “or I’ll violate you.”
Elvin said, “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”
She saw his expression change, his face raise with a dumb look and his hat was gone, snatched from his head. She saw Gary close to her throw the hat aside and grab a handful of Elvin’s hair, Elvin thrashing around now, pushing her out of the way, reaching for Gary’s arm, but Gary’s fist was in his hair tight and Elvin howled as she saw Gary dragging him off the steps, tripping him, throwing him down in the weeds along the front walk; Gary kneeling on him now, a knee planted on Elvin’s chest as he brushed his suit coat open to grip the Beretta holstered on his hip. She heard Gary say, “If I pull it, I shoot it. You understand? It’s up to you.” Not angry or excited, more like he was reciting it from a manual. Kathy didn’t move till he looked over and said, “Go on in. We’ll wait here.”
It didn’t take long to look around, empty beer bottles and pizza cartons—
Pizza from Pisa
and a drawing of the Leaning Tower—palmetto bugs, dirty dishes, clothes all over the place, some she thought might be Dale’s, but no rifle. In the kitchen she found a spoon with the handle sharpened to a point and a piece of wood taped to the other end.
Now they were standing in the yard talking, Elvin with his hat on again, their expressions mild but not telling much. Gary doing most of the talking. Elvin would shrug.
Kathy watched them from the front steps.
Elvin walked away now, through the weeds to Dale’s pickup and got in. Gary raised his hand—she believed to the Thunderbird parked down the street—as Elvin drove off. Gary turned to the house and Kathy held up the sharpened spoon.
“No rifle. How about a shank?”
17
“I
t was on the kitchen table,” Kathy said, watching Gary gnawing on a barbecued rib, his little fingers pointing out, the guy so neat. “But I don’t know if a shank is considered a weapon outside.” She watched Gary shake his head now, meaning he didn’t know either. “Elvin couldn’t have brought it with him, so I guess he made it, showing Dale how to do prison. What do you think?”
This time Gary nodded, sitting across from her in the booth with his suit coat off, cotton dress shirt soft and snowy white, an ad for Tide. Except he would never drip barbecue sauce on it to show how the detergent would get it out. He had asked where she wanted to go. She said she didn’t care, as long as it wasn’t dressy. He said how about Chuck’s Bar-B-Que Pit, his favorite place.
It was okay. They served pitchers of beer.
“Dale acts tough,” Kathy said, but he goes to FSP, he finds out he’s just another punk. I’m thinking maybe Elvin talked to him. You know, advised him, showed him how to make a shank… Dale says holy shit, man, he’d rather be a fugitive than try to hack DOC time. Or Elvin might’ve told him, you’re out, stay out. And he took off.”
Gary nodded, Mr. Agreeable today, picking up his napkin. “Who do you think he looks like in the movies?”
“Elvin or Dale?”
“Elvin.”
Kathy hesitated, then took a chance and said, “I don’t think he looks like anybody.”
“I don’t either,” Gary said. “Maybe some bit player. Elvin overacts, trying to be the bad guy.”
“But he
is
. What did you talk about when I was in the house?”
“I asked him if Dale had taken off, where he might be. Elvin said he didn’t know.”
“You believe him?”
“It doesn’t matter one way or the other. I can’t make him tell me if he doesn’t want to.”
“He told you to get fucked—I thought you were going to hit him.”
“That was for your benefit. He wouldn’t have said it if it was just him and me.”
“You weren’t mad?”
“I might’ve been on the edge.”
“Why didn’t you pull your gun?”
“I didn’t have to.”
“I mean instead of grabbing him by the hair.”
“Why? I wasn’t going to shoot him.”
“But you took a chance, he’s a big guy.”
“You had him distracted.” Gary smiled saying it. “They teach you that finger hold at the Academy? Somebody your size, you ever have to get physical, I think you’d do better with a gun.”
“You sound like my brothers.”
“At least show it. That’s why Elvin and I got along, after. I had a gun and he didn’t. What can he do? Guy fresh out of prison, does he want to risk going back? He isn’t that dumb.”
“Yes, he is,” Kathy said. “He doesn’t think. You heard him say he’s working for a doctor in Ocean Ridge? It has to be the same one Michelle was talking about, in the office.”
“Michelle,” Gary said. “She the one stands real straight? Has the nice posture?”
“You mean the cute ass. She’s our Community Control officer,” Kathy said, “getting back to the doctor, Tomas Vasco in Ocean Ridge. It has to be Elvin’s Dr. Tommy.”
Gary was paying attention now. “That’s a familiar name, Vasco. What’d he do?”
“They had him on some kind of dope charge. He drew, I think, county time plus probation, Community Control on an anklet and had his license revoked, or suspended.”
She watched Gary gnaw a rib clean, wipe his mouth with a napkin, but miss a dab of barbecue sauce on his chin.
“There was a guy named Vasco arraigned on a homicide, or he was called as a key witness, about a year, year and a half ago. I’ll look it up. He’s wearing an anklet, huh?”
“Two years,” Kathy said, staring at the barbecue sauce on his chin. “I think he still has one to go.”
“If Elvin’s working for him… You allow that, offenders getting together?”
“Not if we think they’re up to something. You hear him say I can’t check on him if he might get fired? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. That’s a special condition you have to get a judge to okay. Elvin’s the kind of guy thinks he knows everything and can beat the system. They’re always pretty dumb, those guys.”
Gary said, “It sounds like Dr. Tommy isn’t too bright either. Hires a convicted felon? If he knows who Elvin is.”
“Elvin would tell him, don’t worry,” Kathy said.
“Then the doctor would be risking a violation.”
“That’s right. So either he doesn’t care, or, for some reason, he thinks it’s worth it.”
She watched Gary giving it some thought, the dab of barbecue sauce still on his chin.
He said, “Maybe we should have a talk with Dr. Tommy. What do you think?”
She liked the way he was including her and said, “With or without a search warrant?”
That got a smile.
She touched a finger to her chin.
He raised the napkin and wiped his.
She said, “So I add the doctor to my caseload?”
• • •
I
t seemed to Elvin every time he came here Dr. Tommy acted different, showing more of himself or a different side to him. Showing everything today, Dr. Tommy coming out of his swimming pool bare naked. Looking up at the cocktail hour sky and slicking his hair back with both hands.
Some kind of black thing, like a little box, was taped to his ankle.
Just then the sound of Latin booger music came on loud and for a second Elvin thought the black thing on his ankle was a transistor radio. But no, the music was coming from the house.
Elvin, still back a ways on the lawn, watched Dr. Tommy stretch his arms out to the sides and begin to move in time to the music, doing a booger dance Elvin believed was called the mumbo. Now here was Hector coming from the patio in a little jockstrap type of bathing suit that showed the cheeks of his butt, the dink popping them side to side to the music and carrying what became a silky white robe, holding it open now as Dr. Tommy gave him a sexy look over his shoulder—Jesus Christ—and slipped into the robe.
Now there was a picture.
The two of them doing the mumbo back to the house, grinning and touching each other, the doc slapping Hector’s bare butt with the sash ends of his robe and Hector saying stop that or something in Spanish, acting more like a girl than ever.
Elvin could identify behavior under certain drugs even though he didn’t believe in them. Why go to all the trouble to buy that shit, have to deal with niggers mostly, when you could get all the beer and whiskey you wanted driving no more than two blocks in any direction? On the way here Elvin had stopped at a cocktail bar in Boynton Beach. He left Dale’s pickup outside for the guys in the Thunderbird to watch—the ones who’d followed him from home—slipped out the back way and rode a taxicab over here, having made plans for the future.
He found the two boogers in the kitchen:
Dr. Tommy on a stool, sitting at a high butcher table in the middle of the room, still moving his shoulders to the music as he rolled a joint. Hector was mumboing around a blender, pouring different things into it from bottles on the counter.
“I see I’m just in time,” Elvin said. “You girls having a little drinky?”
Dr. Tommy looked up but didn’t stop moving, too much into what he was doing or doped up to act surprised. He had the joint rolled and was wetting it in and out of his mouth. Hector had the blender going, holding his hand on it. Dr. Tommy said something in Spanish and Hector laughed, nodding his head, his hair in a greased ponytail today. Now Hector was talking in Spanish.
“You two’re cute,” Elvin said, “but impolite.” He saw Dr. Tommy smoking the joint now, sucking in on it. “What was it you said to him?”
“You come in, I said, ‘Ah, it’s the great shooter of windows.’” Dr. Tommy spoke in that strained voice of a weed smoker, holding his breath.
“That’s pretty funny,” Elvin said. “You think it was me the other night shot at the judge?”
No answer. Hector came over with creamy yellowish drinks in big wineglasses. He served Dr. Tommy first and toked off the joint before shoving a glass across the table toward Elvin, saying something in Spanish in that strained voice. Dr. Tommy seemed to get a kick out of it. Elvin heard his name in whatever was said. He stood at one side of the table, between the two boogers at opposite ends.
“He said something about me, huh?”
“Hector says if you ever want someone’s kitchen shot, you’re the one to hire.”
“Shit, he’s funnier’n you are. It wasn’t me, Doc. We better get that straight.”
Hector was talking again in a girlish way, moving his shoulders, Dr. Tommy grinning at him. Couple of dinks. Elvin picked up the glass and took a sip. He said, “Jesus,” and wiped his hand across his mouth. “What is this thing?”
“Banana daiquiri,” Dr. Tommy said. “You don’t like it?”
Hector was talking in Spanish again and laughing at whatever he said, this queer that put bananas in a drink, saying his name. Elvin thought of stepping over to smack him, but then had an idea he liked better and threw his banana drink in Hector’s face.
“Talk English in front of me. Hear?”
It stopped him moving his shoulders, all that creamy shit dripping from his face onto his hairless body. Elvin turned to Dr. Tommy. “You too. Talk English from now on.” He heard Hector’s stool scrape on the brick floor and looked to see him running out of the kitchen like a girl.
Dr. Tommy didn’t seem to mind. He drew on his weed and held the smoke in a long time before letting it out. He said, “Okay, it wasn’t you.”
“Listen,” Elvin said, “it not only wasn’t me, I almost got hit standing in the man’s house. You hear what I’m saying?” The doc’s eyes didn’t look too clear. “I was in there waiting on Gibbs to come in from the yard.”
“You were in his home?”
“I
told
you how I’d walk right up to him, didn’t I? Well, now he’s got police around him and I have to think of something else.”
Man, it was a job holding this guy’s attention. Now he was climbing off his stool, his robe coming open to show a bare leg, and Elvin said, “What’s that thing on your ankle, looks like a little radio?”
“It’s how they keep track of me.” Dr. Tommy was at the counter now putting more rum in his drink. “You never saw an anklet? You wear it, you can’t go no more than a hundred and fifty feet from your telephone. There’s a receiver in this thing and a box hooked to the telephone line, like you have with your cable TV.”
Elvin didn’t have cable TV or know what he was talking about, but said, “Yeah?”
“A computer calls my number every now and then and if I’m not in the house or close by, the computer doesn’t get a signal back and it lets them know.”
Elvin had heard of that. “You’re on probation? Shit, so am I.”
“Is that right?” Dr. Tommy was coming back to his stool. “I don’t think you told me that.”
“It don’t make any difference. They can’t check on me coming here.” He watched Dr. Tommy sip his drink, not saying anything. “Why don’t you take the goddamn thing off and set it by the phone?”
“You’d have to break it.” Dr. Tommy stuck his leg straight out. “You can, all it has is the strap holding it on. But there’s some kind of sensor in there, tells them if it isn’t on your leg.”
“You mean you can’t ever leave the house?”
“Only to go to Alcoholics Anonymous, twice a week.”
Shit, this was working out perfect. “Then you don’t need your car, do you?” Elvin told him why he couldn’t use Dale’s pickup with cops watching it. Then Dr. Tommy had to think about it, his mind fuzzed with weed, before he said, “You have my gun, now you want a car? There’s a difference. A gun doesn’t have a license plate on it.”
Elvin noticed Hector was back, standing at the counter now with one of those Cuban shirts on over his jockstrap, and his hands held together over his crotch. The booger music had finished playing. That was good to hear.
“I need a car for getting around in,” Elvin said, “as I track the judge, figure where I’m gonna hit him. Then when I’m set up I either swipe a car or use my brother’s truck. He don’t drive no more with one leg. He does, but ain’t suppose to. They took his license on account of he keeps running into things.”
Elvin got that booger stare before Dr. Tommy said, “You look different today.”
“I’m letting my beard grow.”
“Wants to look like a rogue,” the doctor said to Hector.
In English, so it was okay. “I’m thinking I may use dynamite. I know how. I shoot it sometimes I go fishing and I don’t have all day. My brother always has some.”
He had to wait then while Dr. Tommy relit his weed, took another drink and stared, trying to appear casual. He said after a minute, “Okay, you can have a Cadillac or a Lincoln. Hector likes the Jaguar to go to the store.”
His dead brother Roland had owned a Cadillac. It was Elvin’s choice without having to think about it. He said, “I might stay here too, since I know you have room.”
“Now you want to move in?”
“I’ll see, but I think I better while I’m working this out. Your probation officer comes by I’ll hide in the closet.”
He watched Dr. Tommy shrug inside his silky robe and give Hector a nod, the doc easy to deal with on his weed trip. So Elvin said, “I’ll need a couple hundred for expenses. So I won’t have to stick up a liquor store, your car sitting out front.”
The doc gave another shrug looking at Hector. Then had to say, “Give it to him,” when Hector didn’t move, still holding his hands by his crotch.
Something funny going on here. Elvin squinted at him. Dr. Tommy said some words in Spanish, his voice quiet, soothing, different than before. Hector slipped his hand under the Cuban shirt and drew a little bluesteel automatic from his jockstrap. Elvin said to him, “You little booger, you weren’t gonna shoot me with that, were you?”
“Hector worries about me,” Dr. Tommy said. “It’s all right. He won’t shoot you unless I tell him. He’s a very good boy. Aren’t you, Hector?” Hector turned his head to look away. Like a girl. Like he wasn’t ever going to speak to the doctor again.
These guys were creepy. Elvin took his expense money and the Cadillac and went back to West Palm to get laid.
• • •
“I
was going to kill him,” Hector said in Spanish. “Shoot him at least several times and make up a story for the police.”