Authors: Peter Robinson
Sandi came by and topped up their coffees. From where Arvo sat, he could see the door. He always liked to sit with his back to a wall and his eyes on the door. Sandi said she’d give him the nod when Chuck walked in. It was ten after three now, and the crowd had thinned out since lunch. Apart from one group of five celebrating someone’s birthday at the table near the window, the place was empty.
Arvo looked at his watch. ‘Is he likely to come this late?’ he asked.
Sandi nodded. ‘Says where he works they sometimes have late lunches.’
‘But he didn’t say
where
he worked?’
Sandi shook her head. ‘Nope. Just said he worked in movies, that’s all, the lying creep.’
Jesus, Arvo thought, looking at the statuesque Sandi in her micro-skirt and white silk blouse, with her model-school posture and chocolate-coloured, beauty-clinic skin, does
everyone
around here want to get in the movies?
‘I just hope you catch the bastard trying something that’ll land his ass in jail and out of my face, that’s all,’ Sandi said, turning away.
It was an unfortunate turn of phrase, Arvo thought. He looked at Maria, who raised her eyes and smiled. ‘What about when you met Nyreen?’ she asked. ‘You didn’t get to that.’
Arvo sighed. ‘Ah, Nyreen. Well, she was at that party I was telling you about. She worked in public relations for the studio.’ He held his hands out, palms up. ‘What can I say? I fell for her right there and then. Love at first sight. She was blonde and beautiful. She seemed bright and she had a great body. She was also full of life and vitality, and she laughed a lot. Two weeks later we were married, and nine months later it was over.’
‘Two weeks?’
‘Well . . . yeah.’
‘I didn’t know that. So you really waited till you’d got to know each other first, right?’
‘Okay. No need to rub it in.’
‘What I don’t understand is how an intelligent guy like you could fall for a bimbo like Nyreen. I’m sorry, Arvo, but I mean it.’
Arvo shook his head. ‘Whatever Nyreen might be, she’s not a bimbo. But how did it happen?’ He shrugged. ‘Hormones, I guess. Lapse of judgement. I don’t know. If we could explain things like that, I suppose life would be a hell of a lot easier.’
Maria laughed and touched him lightly on the arm. ‘And maybe a lot more boring, too,’ she added.
Arvo looked out past the neon Coors sign in the window, where the sun flashed on the windshields of the passing cars. The air-conditioner hummed and the atmosphere in the diner felt cool and clammy. He didn’t want to think or talk about Nyreen any more. Talking about her just made his guts knot up and his chest constrict. Made him feel stupid, too.
‘Anyway,’ Maria went on, maybe sensing Arvo’s mood shift, ‘it just goes to show you, doesn’t it?’
‘Goes to show what?’
‘You never can tell what might happen on a stake-out.’
Her eyes flashed with humour as she spoke, but she held Arvo’s gaze long enough to make him a little hot under the collar. Maybe the three-month hormonal freeze was coming to an end.
Before he could respond, the door opened and a young man in his mid-twenties walked in. Good-looking, in an Iowa farm-boy sort of way, he was about six-two, slim build, with hair the colour of wheatfields in August, and he was wearing a navy blue suit that had seen better days. He also looked as if he had been drinking. His face was flushed, his eyes a little wild, and his brow was oily with sweat.
Sandi, in the middle of the floor with a tray full of mixed drinks for the birthday party, looked at Arvo and nodded vigorously. Arvo started to edge his way out of the booth.
Because they hadn’t been able to pinpoint where Chuck lived or worked, the idea was to get him out of the bar with a minimum of fuss and have a good talk, point out the error of his ways. Sometimes it worked with the simple obsessionals. But the best laid plans of mice and men . . .
Chuck glanced around nervously, saw Sandi and walked right over to her. While Arvo was still stuck between the table and the bench, Chuck pulled a gun from the inside pocket of his suit and pointed it at her head. It looked like a .38 revolver.
Sandi screamed and dropped the tray. Glasses shattered and booze splashed everywhere. The mingled smells of gin and bourbon filled the air. Everything became very quiet for maybe a couple of seconds while everyone in the place took in what was happening. Then the bar staff ducked down behind the counter, and the people in the birthday group screamed and dived under the tables.
Shit, thought Arvo. Whatever the rule book or the training courses said about situations like this didn’t seem to count when they really happened. All you could do was keep talking, keep calm and try not to get yourself killed.
Arvo slid out of the booth and walked very slowly over to Sandi. He knew that Maria was behind him, still sitting, covering him. If anything went wrong, he hoped she was a good shot. He prayed he wouldn’t have to find out.
Chuck flicked his eyes sideways at Arvo and licked his lips. ‘Stay there,’ he said. ‘You stay right there or I’ll blow her brains out. I mean it.’ He had the gun pointing at the side of Sandi’s head.
Sandi whimpered and shook. Arvo stood still and held his hands up. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay here. I’m not moving. But we’ve got to talk, Chuck.’
‘What about? Who the fuck are you anyway? You her new boyfriend?’
‘No, Chuck. I’m not her boyfriend.’ Arvo told him who he was. As he spoke, he felt himself shift into what he called
no time
. He’d been there twice before: once during a hostage-taking in Detroit, and again during a domestic intervention, similar to this one, in Van Nuys. The first time, he had successfully talked the hostage-taker down; the second time, the ex-husband’s gun had jammed. It was
no time
because you had no time to do anything but talk. It was
no time
because time seemed suspended. And it was
no time
because that might be all the time you had left.
‘A cop?’ Chuck scowled at Sandi. ‘Bitch. I might have known.’
Arvo had to keep his attention, get his focus away from Sandi and calm him down. ‘Look, Chuck,’ he said, hands spread in the open, ‘why don’t you put the gun away and we can talk?’
‘What about?’
‘Your problems. Whatever you want. Just put the gun down.’
Chuck laughed harshly. The gun wavered in his hand but remained pointed in the general direction of Sandi Gaines’s head. ‘You want to talk about
my
problems. Man, that’s a laugh. The minute I put this gun away you’ll have me on the floor and be beating the shit out of me like I was Rodney King.’
‘That’s not true,’ Arvo said softly, ‘and I think you know it. You’re smarter than that. Put the gun down, Chuck.’
Chuck licked his lips again. Again, his gun hand wavered, but he didn’t put the weapon down. He didn’t want to fire it, Arvo could tell, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
‘Ask
her
what my problems are,’ Chuck said, glaring at Sandi. ‘Ask
her
why I’m here in this state, all to pieces. I can’t sleep because of her. I lie awake thinking about her all night. How much I want her. How much I love her. The black bitch. Black witch. She’s put a spell on me. What’s wrong, Sandi? White man’s meat not good enough for you, huh?’
He pushed the gun closer until the barrel was touching Sandi’s temple. She flinched. Sweat prickled on Arvo’s brow.
‘Chuck,’ he said as calmly as he could, ‘this isn’t helping matters at all. You don’t want to hurt anyone. I know that. You know that. But accidents happen. Give me the gun and we’ll sit down and talk like rational human beings, okay?’ He held out his hand.
Chuck looked at the hand, then ignored it. ‘Rational?’ he echoed. ‘She didn’t behave like a rational human being, did she? She never even gave me a chance. What is it, Sandi? They really do have bigger cocks, your own kind? That it? This not big enough for you?’
He fumbled at his fly with his free hand.
‘There’s no need for this, Chuck,’ said Arvo. ‘Come on, give me the gun. You’re making everyone nervous.’
‘Let ’em sweat. I get no sleep because of this bitch. I get headaches. Here. This not good enough for you?’ His dick hung limply out the front of his pants. ‘Why don’t you kiss it, bitch! Why don’t you go on your knees and kiss it.’
‘Oh, God. Don’t kill me. Please!’ Sandi wailed.
Chuck was crying now, passing his peak like a roller coaster on its way back home. Arvo figured if he could get through the next few seconds there might be a chance that they would all get out of the place alive.
‘Come on, Chuck,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘We can talk about this. I know we can. You’re an intelligent man. You don’t want to hurt anyone. Give me the gun, Chuck.’
Chuck looked directly at Arvo for the first time, his face slick with sweat, tears flowing down his cheeks. Arvo held eye contact for what seemed like hours, aware only of the sound of the streamers fluttering in the draught, but at the end of that time, he knew he had him. The man was a habitual loser, just desperate, trying a little harder than usual to succeed at something, at
anything
.
‘Ah, what the fuck,’ he said finally, shoulders slumping. ‘It’s only a replica anyway.’ He handed the gun to Arvo, put his dick away and zipped up his fly.
Arvo felt like smashing his stupid face in. Instead, he gritted his teeth and patted Chuck down. Though he was sure the man would hardly use a replica when he had a real gun in his pocket, it was best to be safe and follow routine procedure. He didn’t bother with cuffs. That could wait until a patrol car arrived. Chuck wasn’t going anywhere right now. He looked like a man who wanted to talk.
Sandi dashed off to the washroom, hand over her mouth. Slowly, the members of the birthday party started peeking from under the table and getting to their feet, all a little sheepish now it was all over. Pretty soon, Arvo thought, they’d be indignant. They’d start asking for their money back, replacements for the drinks that got spilled, maybe even threaten a lawsuit. He’d seen it happen before. Then they’d embellish what had happened for their friends, be the centre of attention at parties.
The bar staff stood up and dusted themselves off. One of them poured himself a stiff shot of Scotch. Arvo nodded to Maria, who went to call Hollywood Division, then led Chuck by the elbow to one of the booths and jammed him in the corner.
Chuck wiped his face with a napkin. The tissue was so thin that it shredded and pieces stuck in little clumps on his cheeks and chin, like the bits of paper you put over shaving nicks.
‘I’m glad it’s over,’ he said. ‘You know that? I’m glad it’s over. I feel such relief. I haven’t slept for two weeks thinking about her. You know that? You know what that does to your mind? I loved that woman. Do you believe it? Loved her. She treated me like dirt. I couldn’t kill no one, man.’
‘Calm down, Chuck,’ Arvo said. ‘You only dated her a couple of times, isn’t that right?’
‘So? What does it matter how many times I dated her? Don’t you believe in love at first sight?’
Arvo sighed and wondered if he should give an honest answer. If truth be told, he’d lost a fair bit of sleep over Nyreen, too. Before he could say anything, though, Sandi stormed over to the booth and stood over them, hands on her hips. ‘Now look what you’ve done, you piece of white trash. A whole tray. You’re gonna have to pay for them drinks.’
Chuck fell silent for a moment, mouth open, then he started laughing through his tears. Arvo almost felt like laughing with him.
Sandi just stood there, eyes flashing, and Chuck looked at Arvo. ‘Isn’t she unbelievable? Isn’t she magnificent?’ Then he turned back to Sandi, adoration clear in his eyes. ‘How about bringing me a drink, honey? Make it a Martini. Very dry. With a twist.’ He glanced at Arvo again. ‘And maybe one for my friend, here, too.’
Arvo shook his head. One of those days. Then he heard the welcome sound of a police siren.
5
Sarah stood on Jack’s deck and looked at the lights of the other houses across Laurel Canyon. Some of them had Christmas displays, chains of green, red, yellow and blue winking on and off in the night. Someone had even put up a tall Christmas tree outlined in lights about halfway up the hillside. It was a clear evening, and cold enough that Sarah needed to wear a sweater over her blouse. The stars shone thick and bright above, and car lights meandered along the canyon road way below. She could smell woodsmoke in the air.
Standing so high up the canyon side, Sarah felt suspended in space. Behind her, the party was in full swing. People were laughing, dancing, drinking. Janis was belting out ‘Get It While You Can’ into the night air. But Sarah was taking a moment’s breather from the crowd.
Her peace was soon broken. Guests came out onto the deck and stopped to tell her how much they loved the show, how ‘great’ she was, or how ‘great’ she looked, the way people did in Hollywood, as if it were the only thing in the universe that mattered.
In return, Sarah smiled and made small talk as best she could, sipping on the same glass of rum and Coke that Jack had poured her when she arrived. The ice had melted by now, and the Coke had lost most of its fizz. Between conversations, she would glance around nervously now and then to make sure Stuart, her escape route, was still nearby.