The booger shrugged, like he was waving his shoulders. He said, “It’s okay to go both ways.”
Elvin shoved him, hitting his goddamn shoulder. “Quit talking like that.”
“Owww, you don’t have to hit me.”
“I didn’t hit you.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone.”
“Then shut up.”
The booger shrugged his goddamn shoulders again and said, “Well, if that’s how you feel,” and stuck his big honker of a nose in the air.
Something Elvin hated, a guy acting like he was better than you. Elvin gave him another shove.
The booger said, “Stop it!”
So Elvin shoved him again, harder.
He said, “El-vin!”
In that girlish way he had, like he was going to cry. Elvin hated it worse than the snotty look. He said to him, “Sonny’d whine like that, you know what I’d do? Hold a pillow over his face so he couldn’t breathe. He’d kick and squirm, I’d say to him, ‘You gonna be good now? Are you? Show me.’ He quit squirming I’d let him up.”
“Then he was good?”
“Knew he better behave hisself.”
“When you’re holding the pillow over his face,” Hector said, “did that excite you?”
The booger giving him that flirty look with his eyes as he said it and Elvin grabbed him around the neck, wrenched him down against his side in a headlock, the booger’s face in his blue suit, and held him there.
“You gonna quit talking like that? Are you?”
He let up on him to hear an answer and the booger slumped to the floor at Elvin’s feet, lying against them. Elvin gave him a kick with his cowboy boot as he stepped back. The booger didn’t move. Elvin stooped over, noticing Hector’s neck bent funny. He reached to touch it and felt around good. There wasn’t any pulse.
Elvin said, “Shit,” out loud.
He poured himself a short one from the blender and took a sip. It wasn’t too bad this time. He took another sip and looked down at Hector thinking, Man, you’re on a roll, aren’t you?
26
I
t was dark by the time Dr. Tommy came sleepwalking out to the kitchen. Elvin was fixing himself bacon and eggs and asked was he hungry. No, he was looking for Hector.
Elvin said, “I haven’t seen him.”
Which was true. Not since he’d stuck him in the broom closet. Dr. Tommy said he needed Hector to get him something. He walked through the back hall saying he might have already gone, and opened the door to the garage. No, both cars were there, the Lincoln and the Jaguar, the one Hector would have used. The doc asked where he could be, sounding pissed and in bad shape, in some pain.
“Went for a walk on the beach,” Elvin said, “looking for seashells. Don’t worry about it, I’ll go out after I eat, get what you need. I’m going out anyway.” The idea, to look around good, see if one of their unmarked cars was parked on the road and would it follow him if he was to go anywhere.
Peering over the doc’s shoulder into the garage, he said, “You don’t have a boat, do you?” Thinking of something else he had to do. Dr. Tommy said he didn’t care for boats. Not since coming here on one from Cuba in ‘59. What he had, Elvin noticed, was a rubber raft hanging on the wall, yellow with a blue bottom. It was small but would do the job he had in mind.
They went back in the kitchen and Elvin poured Dr. Tommy a banana drink, telling him, “Here, you work on this while I eat. Then you can give me the money for what you need.” The doc wanted to go right then and get it, but Elvin made him wait while he had his bacon and eggs, mopping up the yolk on his plate with bread. The bread was stale and the bacon strips had green spots on them, these dinks not being serious eaters. Elvin was hungry so he didn’t complain.
After, they went upstairs to Dr. Tommy’s bedroom for the money, Elvin dying to see where he kept it. They went in a walk-in closet and the doc started poking through his shoes, what must’ve been thirty pair on shelves that sloped down, a wood strip holding them by their heels. Elvin had never seen so many shoes outside of in a store. The doc went along feeling inside them. He pulled out clear-plastic Baggies of coke, grass, different colored pills—there, he found a shoe with cash in it. He said Hector hid the money in different places; that’s why he had to look for it.
Elvin wondered why the cops hadn’t grabbed his dope. It must be ‘cause they were looking for a gun held mag loads and that wouldn’t fit in any of these pointy shoes. He said, “You keep all your money here?” The doc didn’t answer, unfolding a wad of hundred-dollar bills. He handed one to Elvin, telling him to get what it would buy. Elvin kept after him, asking, “How much you keep in the house?”
The doc thought about two thousand. He called it “walking-around money,” except he couldn’t go anywhere.
“Well, where’s the rest?” The doc told him it was in the bank and Elvin said, “A
bank
, don’t you know banks get robbed?” kidding with him. Then was serious again. “Don’t forget we still have a deal.”
Man, where was he? His head all fuzzed. He looked up to ask, what deal? His eyes red and shiny.
Elvin said, “When things quiet down and I do the job, I’ll drive you to the bank to get my money. No checks. This’s a cash deal.”
The doc wasn’t following the conversation. He said he had a terrible taste in his mouth and to hurry up and get him his rock.
While they were still upstairs Elvin said, “I had to chuck that piece you give me. Where’s your other one, up here?”
He’d dropped the Speed-Six in a Dumpster behind a liquor store when he went in to get a fifth of Beam. After leaving Ms. Touchy’s. He had not wanted to part with that gun till he remembered there was another one in the house. Now he remembered that fifth was still in the car from yesterday.
The doc was telling how the police found his rifles and confiscated them. Elvin said, “I mean that gun Hector pulled out of his jockstrap. When was it? Saturday. I bet you still have that one.” Dr. Tommy asked why he needed it, not wanting to give it to him. Elvin said, “Keep talking, see if I go get you your rock.” A junkie was the easiest person in the world to handle.
Now they went into Hector’s room where there were all kinds of different shaped pillows and a couple of stuffed animals—Jesus Christ—on the bed, a little white doggie and a furry green alligator. Dr. Tommy hefted the one, then the other, zipped open the gator and pulled out the bluesteel automatic Elvin recalled. A little seven-shot Walther .32 you wouldn’t even know was in your pocket. Elvin had felt naked not having a gun. Now he was back in business, looking toward what he saw would be a long night.
The first thing, drive over to the club where Earlene worked and have her make a buy for him. She’d do it right on the premises, all the dealers and dope fiends they had in there; she’d be happy to in her scared state.
Look to see if he was being tailed, of course. They might even try to give him a hard time in that smarty way cops had of talking; but they weren’t going to run him in on any two-bit dope charge.
The second thing, later on in the dead of night, load Hector onto the rubber raft, something heavy tied to him, paddle out in the ocean a ways and put him over the side. Come back and open that fifth of Beam. Hear Dr. Tommy moaning, Where’s Hector at? Have you seen him? I don’t know, Doc, maybe he went swimming.
God
damn
, he wished there was somebody he could tell all this to and watch their face.
• • •
S
he stared at the ceiling in the dark bedroom wondering if there was a way to turn off your mind.
Thinking that if she had cut Gary’s hair Monday night he wouldn’t have gone to Betty’s.
Imagining the place, Elvin walking in, Gary in the chair, Elvin knowing what he was going to do, speaking to Gary. She could hear his voice but not the words.
Then wondering if she would have shot Elvin standing by the table, the bag of groceries, if she’d had the chance. If he had waited while she came in here to get her revolver, walked back into the living room…
Then seeing it a different way, looking at him with the gun in her hand when Lou Falco said yes, he was dead. She might have shot Elvin in that moment.
Might have
. And thought, That’s the best you can do. Maybe you would. The gun in your hand. But then realized she was thinking about it
now
, after the fact or as a fantasy, and thought, So you don’t know what you would’ve done in that moment, the gun in your hand.
She imagined Betty’s Hair Studio again and saw Gary dead with his gun in his hand. Never fired, the paper said. She remembered Gary saying to Elvin the other day, “If I pull it, I shoot it. You understand?” That was the trouble, he did understand. He would know enough to walk in and start talking and Gary would think, oh no, have to sit here and listen to this guy and his bullshit, trapped, and Elvin would have him off guard, the nice guy putting up with him. It could have happened that way. Gary pulling his gun too late.
You had to be ready for Elvin.
Armed. A gun on you he didn’t know about.
A gun in your hand beneath the cloth they put over you to cut your hair, the moment you saw him come in.
She slipped out of bed in her T-shirt and got the .38 revolver from the top drawer of the dresser: a stubby S&W Chiefs Special with a two-inch barrel: the same model she had fired at the Academy during her training and again with Tony, when he gave this gun to her. He said she was a pretty good shot. A little more than a pound of metal fitting her hand. She brought the revolver back to bed with her and laid it on the night table.
She could see it in the wash of light from the window and began to think, You can’t change any of that. What are you getting ready for? He doesn’t want to kill you, he wants to play. He’ll make you come to check on him, kid about his urine and one day open his pants with that stupid grin on his face and get on top of you. That’s what it was about, what she saw in her mind and heard him saying, “Did you get some bad news?” He wanted to talk about it. Wanted
you
to tell
him
and then he’d put on his act and hint around, because if you don’t know he did it…
You
have
to know. It’s important to him. Gives you that stupid grin waiting to see what you’re going to do about it.
She was looking at tomorrow now instead of yesterday and could feel her heart beating with the idea of walking up to him. Look him over. Give him a chance to put on his act. Ray said, “You’re good at getting people to talk to you,” and she had thought of wearing a wire. But that could come later, if TAC went for the idea. The thing to do now was give Elvin a chance to show off, give his opinion maybe tell something that wasn’t in the paper. Talk to Hector first, if that was possible. Check out Dr. Tommy. Get a feel of what was going on in that house.
She was wider awake now, a few minutes past midnight, than when she came to bed. She set the alarm for 5:30 and thought about what she’d wear. Jeans, her navy blazer, a shoulder bag with the .38 in it. They could fire her, she was going to pack it from now on.
27
W
esley, the young TAC cop, sat low behind the wheel of the Thunderbird with a clear view of the doctor’s property, the brick posts with lamps still lit where the drive circled in and came out. There wasn’t much going on this early, a few cars now and then; people living in the big homes were still in bed, or else they’d gone north and their places were closed till next season. He heard a horn beep behind him, once, looked at the mirror and saw a VW close to his rear end. Wesley got up higher in the seat as he saw the girl—the judge’s friend, Kathy—coming up on his side. His window was already down. He was glad to see her and got ready to ask what was she doing here, but she beat him to it saying hi.
“Just want to tell you I’m going to Dr. Vasco’s. He’s one of my cases.”
“You know what time it is?”
He saw her look at her watch. “Twenty past six.”
“I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda early?”
“It’s how you check on Community Control cases,” Kathy said. “Drop in when they least expect a visit. What’s happening, anything?”
“Not much. The Lincoln went out last night. I tailed it to a go-go bar.”
“That must have been Elvin.”
“The one with the cowboy hat.”
Hunched down by the window she nodded her head. “Alone or with Hector?”
“By himself.”
She said, “I hope he isn’t hung over this morning.”
“He wasn’t there a half hour. Came right back.”
Now she said, “Oh, picking up a rock for the doctor.”
“Well, shit, I better go in there with you,” Wesley said.
“No, it’s okay. Let’s keep the doctor happy; I can violate him anytime. He’s not the one you want.”
Wesley knew she meant the one with the hat and said, “If it was the cowboy shot Hammond, we’ll get him.”
She said, “Did you know Gary?”
“I met him. I hear he was a good guy. I’ll tell you something,” Wesley said. “If that cowboy’s the one, I’d sure like to get a crack at him. Have him come at me.”
“Cocked?” Kathy said. “The tension off the trigger?”
“You recall my telling you about that, huh? At the crack house that time?”
“I remember,” Kathy said. “But what if he shot you first? I mean Elvin.”
“I wouldn’t let it happen,” Wesley said. “What you do, you watch their eyes.”
She said, “Oh, I wondered,” and walked away.
He watched her VW pull out past him, drive up the road and turn in at the doctor’s place, disappearing into all the foliage there. She was a pretty good-looking girl but weird. Makes a house call before anybody’s up. Goes out with that old-man judge…
No one answered the chimes. It was possible they weren’t heard upstairs in the bedrooms. Kathy left her car by the front entrance and walked around to the ocean side of the house in clear morning sunlight. She could hear the surf breaking off beyond the pool, the sweep of lawn, the edge of the bluff lined with palm trees. Not the typical home of a crack cocaine addict. A rubber raft lay upside down on the patio. She gazed up the stairway at the deck, sun reflecting on the windows, walked past the stairs to a door with glass panes and put her hand on the knob as she looked in at the kitchen. The knob turned.
Inside, she was immediately aware of Elvin, his presence in dirty dishes, a skillet of grease, beer cans, banana peels, an empty Jim Beam bottle. It looked as if Hector had given up; decided, why bother? She walked through the dining room to the center hall and stopped to listen, looking up the stairway. The house was silent.
There was an odor of grass in the room with glittery wallpaper, the den. Kathy opened the sliding glass door and looked out at the patio again: at the lounge the doctor had been lying on nude; at the rubber raft she hadn’t noticed the other day—it might’ve been there; at the wrought-iron patio table and three chairs. Where was the fourth? Nowhere on the patio that she could see. And thought, What are you looking for? He’s upstairs.
• • •
E
lvin woke up having to piss and found out before opening his eyes he was hung over. Not too bad, but enough to kick in a door. Last night he was going to wait till he’d done his chores before having the Jim Beam, but had got to talking with Dr. Tommy and cracked the bottle earlier than planned. Drinking helped him think. Hung over, he tended to follow his urges. Talking about Hector, the doc wanted to know if Elvin had caused him to be mad or upset. This while the booger was still in the broom closet. Elvin said no, he hadn’t made him cry since the other day. The doc got tired thinking of Hector and moved on to the judge. This was a different story and what got Elvin started on the Jim Beam. Dr. Tommy saying he was calling the deal off, forget it. So then Elvin had to give the doc a talking-to, get through to him with his head all lit up that a deal was a deal, you didn’t back out of one less both parties agreed. Dr. Tommy saying then, if you’re going to do it, then do it. What was he waiting for? He told the doc he was ready, had his killer instincts working and would do it tonight if the law wasn’t sitting out front. They’d followed when he’d gone to see the go-go whore and would follow anyplace he went. The doc saying he didn’t care. Do it by the end of this week or no deal. Four days. And kept saying it in his rocked-out state, this week or forget it. The thing was, Elvin believed he did have to do it soon, else the doc might stuff himself with enough crack to o.d. on him or turn his brain to oatmeal. There was always something trying to fuck up your life.
He’d even thought he might drown for a minute there last night, waves coming in high as he took the booger out to sea, Hector riding the raft taped to a patio chair.
Elvin worked his way out of the bed. He saw he had his socks on. He needed to piss and needed a couple of cold beers right after to settle him down, calm his nerves.
Taking care of the first matter, standing at the toilet, his eyes watering with the relief of it, he started thinking: What if there was a way to slip out while the house was being watched and get it done? Slip back in, they never knowing he was gone, and he’d be free and clear. Who me? You crazy? You been watching the house? Wasn’t I here all the time?
Like if Hector was still around… Sneak out at night afoot, Hector picks him up, takes him out to the judge’s place… Except that would only have worked if the booger could lose the tail they’d have on him. He wasn’t around anyway so, shit, think of something else. The beers might help.
Elvin went back to the bedroom, sat down in his shorts to pull his boots on. How about if he sneaked out and got a taxicab, took it over to West Palm and went in a mall. That could work. Swipe a car from the parking lot and drive out to the judge’s. Do it at night.
That didn’t sound too hard. No, for being hung over, usually a mean state of mind, he was calm and thinking pretty good. Couple of beers, he’d have this deal worked out.
He went along the hall to the stairway in his underwear and boots, working his mouth to get that awful taste out of it, reached the turn in the stairs and couldn’t believe his eyes.
Ms. Touchy standing at the bottom looking up at him.
She said, “Elvin?”
In that way she had, meaning business. Looking fresh and bright this morning making her calls. No doubt her car keys in that purse hanging from her shoulder. No doubt whatsoever, and her VW parked in the drive.
• • •
S
he saw a bare white body in striped underwear, boots to his calves—he looked soft but ten feet tall up there. Grinning at her, shaking his head.
“Man, you sure took me by surprise. You come to see me or Dr. Tommy?”
“Both of you,” Kathy said. “Is he awake?”
“I haven’t heard a peep, and I’m the early bird around here.”
“What about Hector?”
“Hector, he left.”
“You mean he quit?”
“I guess. He ain’t here.”
She’d save Hector till the doctor came down. “You going to put some clothes on?”
“I’ll be right back,” Elvin said. “Don’t go ‘way.”
She asked herself, Are you afraid of that? Watching him go up the stairs in his boots and undershorts, and answered, You bet I am. Holding on to her shoulder bag.
Kathy went back to the kitchen wondering about Hector. Down a hall past the laundry room she found the door to the garage. Two cars in there, a Lincoln and a Jag. She could imagine an argument with Dr. Tommy and Hector driving off in a snit. Maybe to stay with his mother or a friend, if he had one. Wait for the doctor to call. What she couldn’t imagine was Hector walking away from all this. Unless he was forced to. She would have to wait and talk to Dr. Tommy. Have Elvin bring him down. Make sure with clothes on.
She returned to the front hall to walk past the doctor’s abstract art, a painting done in silver she saw as hard smoke, a sculpture that could be a woman’s body with a hole in it, or it might be a doughnut. Something to think about. Decide if it made any difference… Kathy turned with the sound of heels clicking on the terrazzo floor.
Cowboy boots. Elvin, wearing a bright blue suit and his big straw, putting on a pair of sunglasses.
Kathy waited for him. “You going somewhere?”
He came toward her nodding. “We are. You’re gonna drive me.”