A Cloud of Suspects

by Laurence Gough

  “What did you learn?”

  “That our new friend Sandy is a security-conscious fellow. Not only does he lock all his doors and windows, he pulls his curtains so snug that it is not possible to see inside, no matter how one bends and twists.”

  “Well then, what did you do?”

  “Nothing. You told me not to break anything or leave any marks.”

  “Did you hunt for a key?”

  “Everywhere but up my own anus.”

  “On the ledge above the door, under the welcome mat, a flowerpot?”

  “Everywhere, Aldo. There was a welcome mat but no key. No flowerpot at all, anywhere. I looked beneath a stone that was full of promise, but all I discovered was a seething mass of small black ants.”

  “You tried the back door?”

  “I was everywhere you could think of.” Jackie smiled slyly. He said, “I even went up on the roof.”

  “On the roof?”

  “Yes, the roof. I climbed up on a fence and from the fence to the roof.”

  “You amaze me.”

  “I amaze myself, Aldo. Now listen to this: on the roof, there is a skylight, a hinged skylight that can be opened to let in the fresh air, or even the rain, if it was so desired.”

  “Did you open it?”

  “It was padlocked. I could see the lock. When I pressed my face against the glass I could even see the key for the lock, dangling from a bit of string tied to the lock. It was frustrating, let me tell you. So near, and yet so far.”

  “But you could see into the apartment?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  Brenda arrived with ice-water for Aldo and a Coke in a tall glass for Jackie, shot of Captain Morgan on the side. When she had gone, Aldo said, “Well then, tell me what you saw.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come now, you must have seen something.”

  “Well, yes. A sofa and TV, an ugly thing he believes is a carpet. A small table and two wooden chairs, a computer … “

  Jackie drank some Coke. He belched loudly, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

  Aldo said, “You shouldn’t burp. It’s rude.”

  Jackie said, “Sandy is a very neat and tidy fellow, for his age. The fact that I saw nothing of interest could be of interest in itself, don’t you agree?”

  Aldo drank some more water.

  Jackie had decided as he was driving to the hotel that he would not tell Aldo about the security camera that had peeked inquisitively up at him as he’d hunched over the skylight. The camera’s small red light glowed brightly. Its lens was a blank eye that told him nothing. Wires led from the camera to a VCR perched on the TV. Jackie was quite sure his attempted intrusion had been recorded on videotape. He was also quite sure that, if he told Aldo about the camera, Aldo would panic, and back out of the deal. Aldo said, “That’s all you saw, there was nothing else?”

  Jackie shrugged. He drank the rest of his Coke. Ice rattled against his teeth. He sighed with pleasure. The redhead, Brenda, was watching him. He was sure he could have her, if he asked nicely. His handsome features twisted as he struggled to repress a gigantic belch.

  *

  Bite me

  Tyler’s day-camp was in the basement of an elementary school a little over a mile from Jan’s apartment and about four miles from the hotel.

  Jan twisted Sandy’s wrist so she could read his watch. She pushed away his arm. “Hurry up, let’s go.” She reached for her seatbelt. “We’re never going to make it.”

  Sandy turned the key. The truck’s engine caught, and idled smoothly. He made a shoulder check and pulled away from the curb. He said, “Does it matter all that much if you’re a couple minutes late?”

  “Are you kidding? There’s nothing more militant than a fucking daycare worker. Especially Lynda. She hates being kept waiting. I’m one minute late, it’s a four-hour hit, and I can’t afford to throw away that kind of money.”

  “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Now is what counts, Sandy. Yesterday and tomorrow are nothing but dreams.”

  “Lynda’s going to charge you for that much time, why don’t we go somewhere, have a drink … ”

  “Are you crazy? We just had a drink. Anyway, Lynda’s such a bitch, she’ll wait half an hour max, and take off.”

  “You’re kidding. She’d leave Tyler all by himself? Could he find his way home?”

  “Probably. No, I guess not. I don’t know. I’ve never been late before. When I signed Tyler up, she put the fear of God into me. Talk about rabid. She’s totally into the union — should’ve been a longshoreman, or a fucking baseball player.”

  Sandy turned his head so Jan wouldn’t see him smile. How threatening could a daycare worker be? But there was no denying her panic. Thinking about it sobered him. If you knew what to look for, Jan’s apartment — and her life — were crammed full of signs that pointed at a tight budget. Couldn’t be easy, being a single mom. He braked for a stop sign, looked left then right then left again, and drove through.

  Jan said, “I never met anybody as cautious as you. Keep it up, I bet you live to be a hundred. Then you’ll be sorry.”

  Sandy self-consciously rubbed the puckered scar on his forearm. Jan knew about the arm. When he was ten, he and another kid had been out in the woods, hunting squirrels or whatever, and the other kid had tripped over a root and his gun had gone off.

  “I’m just naturally careful, I guess.” He smiled good-naturedly. “You really think that’s something worth complaining about?”

  Jan put her feet up on the dashboard. She wore her pink open-toed sandals. Her toenails were painted midnight blue. She’d stuck tiny gold and silver stars on them while the nail polish was still wet. Sandy reached out and gave her ankle a squeeze. The stars reminded him of his childhood. All through elementary school, his teachers had stuck gold or silver stars on the pages of his notebook, as a mark of his success. A green star signified a pass, a test or homework assignment that was just barely good enough, but certainly not outstanding. You got a red star, it meant you’d really screwed up, were in danger of failing. Sandy always got silver or gold stars. No greens that he could remember, or reds. All that had changed when he hit Grade Ten. Grade Ten was his nemesis. Suddenly he just didn’t care any more, and had no idea why, and didn’t care about that, either. All he was interested in was music and drugs and girls …

  Jan nudged him. “Hey, wake up. Left at the corner.”

  Sandy made the turn, crawled along for the better part of a block at the 30 KPH speed limit. He turned into the school’s small parking lot. The door leading to the daycare was open. He could see movement inside, vague shapes hurrying around. The four-storey building was red brick. Sandy wondered if the school was on the long list of schools that were in need of earthquake-proofing. He wouldn’t want his kid attending a school that was going to turn into a pile of bricks when the big one hit. The school board worked out of a brand-new glass-and-concrete tower on West Broadway. The plush, air-conditioned offices had cost millions, and had been built to withstand anything short of a nuclear bomb. He guessed that, if he had a son who worked for the school board, he’d be glad he worked in a nice, safe building. But if he was the parent of a student, he’d be pissed, for sure.

  Jan pushed open her door before the truck came to a full stop. She jumped lightly down, and hurried away from him, across the asphalt and down a grassy slope, into the shadow cast by the school. He checked the time. It was one minute to six. Jan hesitated at the door, her leg cocked fetchingly, then disappeared inside. Sandy expected her to come right back out, Tyler in tow. He waited a minute, then killed the engine. The cooling aluminum block ticked erratically. A crow landed on the knee-high, white-painted fence that surrounded the parking lot. The crow worked its way down the rail towards him, then stopped and gave him a coy, over-the-shoulder look.

  Sandy powered down his window. He had no idea how a crow could manage an expectant look, but this one did.

  He said, “I’d give you some
thing if I had it, but I don’t.”

  The crow edged a little closer. Crows were supposed to be smart. Maybe this one was the exception to the rule. Jan and Tyler and a tired-looking woman in jeans and a grey T-shirt walked out of the daycare. Jan held Tyler’s hand. Tyler’s head was down. His kicking shoe raised a small cloud of dust. Jan said something that made him go still. Sandy guessed that the woman must be Lynda. She looked like a Lynda, though he wasn’t sure why.

  Tyler wore sneakers and shorts and a red-and-white striped short-sleeved shirt. He jerked free of Jan’s hand and walked around her in small, rapid circles as she talked to the woman Sandy had decided was Lynda. The two adults were standing a little too close together. Lynda moved her hands expressively. Jan’s posture was defensive. She looked stressed, as if she’d just been dealt some seriously bad news.

  The conversation ended abruptly. Lynda reached out and squeezed Jan’s arm, said something to Tyler that he didn’t respond to. She stared at Tyler for a moment, and then turned and walked away. Jan and Tyler started towards the truck. Tyler tried to get Jan to carry his backpack, but she pushed it away. As they drew nearer, Sandy saw that Jan was fighting a mix of emotions. He reached across the bench seat and pushed open her door. The crow’s wing feathers made a soft rasping sound as it flew away, staying low across the sun-parched grass and then rising in a graceful curving arc to settle in the topmost branches of a tall fir tree that grew close by the chain-link fence surrounding the school’s crushed limestone sports field.

  Tyler ignored Jan’s outstretched hand. He scrambled up into the truck, and buckled himself in. The backpack lay on his bare, outstretched legs. The backpack didn’t look as if it had anything in it.

  Jan got in, and slammed the door.

  Sandy started the engine. Tyler reached for the radio. Jan slapped his hand away.

  Sandy expected Tyler to cry out, but he didn’t, though he looked as if he wanted to. Sandy snuck a quick look at Jan. Her face was dark and full of rain. He decided not to ask any questions. For now, he was content to assume the role of a cab driver. He’d hold his silence during the drive back to her apartment, knowing that, because of the kid and her foul mood, she wouldn’t invite him in. He decided that, if she surprised him, he’d turn her down.

  He’d come to think the armed robbery was nothing but smoke and mirrors and idle talk. Now, post-Aldo, he believed she seriously intended to pull it off. He couldn’t even start to imagine the tension she must be feeling, knowing that, if they screwed up and got caught, she could kiss Tyler goodbye.

  A few minutes later, he pulled up to the curb directly in front of her building. He didn’t turn the engine off. Jan pushed open her door and got out of the truck without a word. Tyler scuttled across the seat and jumped down to the sidewalk. He turned and squinted up at Sandy.

  “Thanks for the ride, Sandy.”

  Sandy smiled and said, “You’re welcome.”

  Jan slammed shut the door, then yanked it open and said, “i’ll talk to you later.” Sandy nodded. She said, “You going to be in tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Call me on my cell.”

  Jan said, “Tyler bit a little girl. On the thigh.” She looked as if she were about to break into tears. “Can you believe it? My kid’s a fucking vampire. He didn’t break the skin, thank God.” She laughed bitterly. “If he does it again, they’ll kick him out. In the meantime, he’s on probation.” She shut the truck’s door with exaggerated care, and turned and walked away without another word.

  Sandy waited until she’d let herself into the building, then drove slowly away. A stew of emotions churned in his gut. The dominant emotion was guilt.

  *

  Touch me

  Claire was stretched out on the sofa, reading a novel recommended by Oprah, when the phone rang. Hadrian was upstairs in his crib, napping. Claire picked up the cordless and said hello.

  “Hello, Claire. I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I just thought I’d give you a quick call, see how you and Hadrian are doing.”

  The voice was deep and authoritative. Two scoops of manly, thought Claire. She knew who it was but asked anyway.

  “Who is this?”

  “Doctor Hamilton — Randy.”

  Claire went back to her book. She had read only a few words when Hamilton said, “I hope I haven’t called at an inconvenient moment. I just called to make sure that Hadrian’s all right.”

  “He’s fine,” said Claire.

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it, how resilient children can be.”

  Claire murmured her agreement.

  Hamilton said, “I could drop by anytime, if you’d like me to examine him, make sure he’s okay.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you,” said Claire. She had intended to be sarcastic, but somehow it hadn’t come across that way. She added, “But it really isn’t necessary.”

  “Couldn’t hurt though, could it?” Before Claire could answer, Hamilton said, “Tell you what, i’ll call again in a day or two. In the meantime you can think it over, see how you feel.” He chuckled inanely. “I don’t usually make house calls. But in your case, I’m eager to make an exception.”

  “Really,” said Claire.

  “We don’t have to meet at your home. Are you open to a suggestion? Why don’t we have lunch together, say at the Clairmont?”

  “The hotel?”

  “It’s only ten minutes away. Fifteen at the most. They do a lobster bisque that’s really outstanding.”

  Claire said, “I don’t think lunch at a hotel would be appropriate, Doctor.”

  “Too public? We could take advantage of room service, if you’d prefer. I could reschedule my appointments, take the day off. We could really make a meal of it.”

  Shocked speechless, Claire slammed the phone down on the coffee table, and then picked it up again, and disconnected with a harsh stab of her thumb. What kind of woman did Hamilton think she was? Had she inadvertently sent him an inappropriate signal? Claire giggled. She couldn’t help herself, because when she’d turned Hamilton down, she had quoted, word for word, the heroine in the Oprah-approved novel.

  She lay there on the sofa, thinking about Dr. Randy Hamilton. She wondered how many of his patients he tried to seduce. Not many, probably, if only because of the risk. It had always seemed to her, when she’d read newspaper articles about doctors who had been censured by the College of Physicians and Surgeons, that the College rarely administered more than a slap on the wrist to doctors Claire believed deserved a public flogging.

  Despite the College’s lackadaisical attitude, you had to be out of your mind not to realize that screwing patients was fraught with risk. She had no idea how Jack would react if she told him about Hamilton’s call. He might laugh it off, but was just as likely to march into the good doctor’s office and punch him in the nose.

  Hamilton wasn’t her type and she wasn’t attracted to him, but she had to admit that he was handsome, in a compact sort of way. He certainly was jam-packed with confidence. She supposed he wouldn’t be so sure of himself unless he was pretty good in bed.

  In her life, she had been very cautious when it came to men. And of course there hadn’t been anybody, since Jack. She thought back on that long-ago afternoon in Inspector Homer Bradley’s office, when she’d first met Jack. Her new partner, Homer had said. Talk about prescient!

  Hamilton wore tailored shirts that showed off his narrow waist and muscular shoulders. He must spend a lot of time in the gym, to look like that. Claire had learned not to trust men who were overly self-absorbed, narcissistic.

  On the other hand, she wished Jack would spend a little more time on himself. Years of overwork, fast food, and minimal exercise had inevitably taken their toll. She’d tried to get him to go for walks with her, but he wasn’t interested. Work exhausted him. He spent too much time in front of the television. Lately he had been drinking heavily. She was worried about him, worried, and afraid.

  Worse, she had begun to lose her res
pect for him. He seemed to want so little for himself, and for her. For them.

  If he loved her, and Hadrian, why wouldn’t he try harder to take care of himself? Why did he save so little of himself for their relationship?

  Claire wondered how much of herself she had revealed to Randy Hamilton. His interest in her was repugnant, but at the same time, flattering. She didn’t know how she felt about it. She knew how she should feel, but that wasn’t the same thing.

  It bothered her that she had mixed feelings.

  Hamilton knew damn well that she was married and off-limits. He was a snake. But then, why did she experience a little thrill of anticipation when she thought about his next phone call, the renewed invitation to spend a day with him, a day separate from everything else in her life, in a room at the Clairmont Hotel?

  The phone rang, and made her jump. She picked up, and cautiously said hello.

  Jack said, “Claire, I’m sorry, but something’s come up. I’m going to be late. I won’t be home for supper.”

  “When will you be in?” She knew it was an impossible question, and she despised herself for asking it.

  Jack said, “I don’t know. Could be an all-nighter. Don’t wait up for me.”

  Jack’s tone was deliberately bland, revealing nothing of his emotions. Claire said, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “How’s Dan working out?”

  “He’s doing his best. How’s Hadrian?”

  “Napping,” said Claire.

  Willows said, “I love you. Both of you. Give him a hug and a kiss for me.”

  Claire said, “Wake me when you get home.”

  “Okay,” said Willows in that same infuriatingly bland voice.

  Claire told him she loved him. She didn’t put much into it, and she wasn’t sure why. There was a short silence, and then she hung up.

  *

  An unconscious state of mind

  Harvey said, “Hi, Tyler.”

  Tyler stared up at him. The kid’s eyes were huge. Harvey wondered about that, because his own eyes, behind his glasses, were kind of beady, and pressed in on his nose. It was bedtime. Tyler wore pyjamas with burgundy-and-pale-green stripes. His short blond hair was tousled. His small hands were wrapped tightly around the throat of a teddy bear wearing a Boy Scout hat, plastic Sam Browne belt, and a red kerchief. Harvey thought that, if it were a real bear, it would be dead by now, asphyxiated. He reached out and awkwardly patted Tyler on the head. He said, “I really am your daddy. How would I know so much stuff about you if I wasn’t? Are you sure you don’t recognize me?”