Marco kept studying Lemon’s face.
“Then I’ll need you to do a big job for me. Do you drive?”
Lemon nodded wearily. “Shit...Yeah, used to race stocks.”
“I don’t know what day that calls going to be yet. But you’d better check every day at three thirty until this goes down.”
“Right on, I’ll be here.”
Marco leaned forward and glared at Lemon. “If you’re not here every day, or if you screw me around, not only will you be cut off from your goodies, but I’ll come looking for you. And listen...” He reached over and grabbed Lemon’s wrist, squeezing it just enough for the kid to grimace. “You don’t ever want me coming after you. Do you understand that?”
Lemon’s hand trembled under Marco’s grip. He reached his free hand under the table to take delivery. “I’ve got the picture, man. I’ll be here.”
“Good. In the meantime, Jasper will keep you happy, just like he always has, but remember, I’m footing the bill.”
He pushed a package under the table into Lemon’s waiting palm.
Marco left a few minutes later, got into the borrowed car, and headed over to Ridge Road for another drive by the jeweler’s ex-girlfriend’s house.
He drove slowly, his eyes searching for any signs of surveillance. He saw nothing out of line. The driveway was empty. He glanced at the Victorian’s front windows.
All right, bitch, Marco’s coming soon. For his stuff. You be good, or you’ve got some serious hurt coming.
He hit the accelerator. The old car picked up speed and continued along Ridge Road. He knew that plainclothes cops might be sniffing around this area. It didn’t bother him; there wouldn’t be enough cops to stop him from getting what he wanted. And to this point, they hadn’t spotted him. If they had, he would have seen, or sensed a tail. There was no moving surveillance. He knew that because he’s been under it many times in the past. He knew what to look for: good mobile surveillance squads worked in teams of at least six cars and often more. The cars he had seen near the property were either parked where they could watch the place, or occasionally drive past. He would know when their assignments changed. And he would know quickly whether their attention had changed to him.
Chapter 16
At the main Hamilton post office, Marco produced an Ontario driver’s license in the name of Armand Bourque. The license showed a Hamilton address. He’d shipped a package from Montreal by registered mail for that name and address. He hadn’t insured it. Why attract attention? He risked losing it, but the risk was slight compared to what he’d lose if he got picked up with it by the cops. The release of the package from the post office required the identification he’d shown, and a signature.
He watched the female postal clerk scuttle off to get the package. Although Marco’s demeanor was relaxed, his eyes were taking in every movement around him. His senses were on full-alert for any threat. If anything had gone wrong, if the cops were on to the shipment for some reason, this was the place where it would become evident. His left elbow was tight against his left side, his right hand rested near the opening of his jacket. The reassuring bulk of the automatic on his belt was inches away from his fingers.
Around the post office, everything had looked normal. No loiterers, inside or out, no occupied cars parked on the street, and no delivery vehicles that could have hidden windows: the kind that surveillance cops liked to use as observation points and photo blinds.
The clerk appeared from a back room. She was carrying his parcel. His elbow moved away from his side, and he gave a nod of approval as the lady held up the package. A quick scrawl of a signature and he placed the package into the briefcase he’d brought along for the pickup.
He left the post office and kept to the back alleys, careful to stop at strategic points and watch for any sign of a tail. At one point, he doubled back and waited at the end of an alley before retracing his footsteps. He emerged from a short section of alley eight blocks east of the post office and entered a TD Bank. Three days earlier he had been in the same bank and opened a small account in the name of Andre Marcotte.
At the inquiries desk, Marco gave the fictitious name and produced identification for Marcotte. He provided the account number and asked to acquire a safety deposit box. Moments later he was alone in the vault. He flipped open the log box that the bank employee had assigned him. It was about four inches deep and five inches wide. He placed the briefcase beside the box on a small counter and opened it.
He ripped at the sturdy envelope he’d picked up at the post office. After several tugs at the edge just below a corner, his package opened. Marco removed seven velvet sacks from a thick plastic bag. The weight of them felt good in his hands. He loosened the tie on one of the sacks and opened it partway. The fluorescent lighting in the vault played over the stones. A shiver went up his spine and he licked his lips, admiring his stash. He checked inside the other sacks before placing them into the safety deposit box.
This was just a part of his nest egg. There were other shipments he’d sent. They would be in his hands soon and would be placed here in the same vault. And, there was still the mother lode that the jeweler had stashed in other deposit boxes. Marco would get it all, once he’d spent some time with the man’s former girlfriend. He would be needing more boxes in this vault. But not for long. Passage for him and his precious cargo had already been arranged.
Sailing right out of Hamilton harbor. A new life, and money to burn...how good is that?
Marco closed the lid and rested his palms on the cool metal of the box. He shut his eyes and thought for a moment about the woman, and that house on the escarpment. He grinned as he closed up the box.
Oh yeah. Her. That nice piece of fluff is going to point me to the rest of my haul...I’m looking forward to meeting her.
Chapter 17
We had a good evening, a very good evening. It hadn’t started out well. When I’d first arrived, and thought Charles was up to something with Sue, it had rattled me. But, he was there with Gloria, and it became clear quickly that his relationship with Sue was nothing for me to worry about. I’d been an idiot, but the three of them let me off the hook. Charles and Gloria seemed happy that I was watching out for Sue, but I knew there was more to my behavior than that. I’d acted like a jealous punk and learned something about myself. I tried not to show it, but I was embarrassed. Hell, I deserved to be.
After they left, Sue teased me about mistrusting her. I hadn’t hit it off with Charles at the party and I’d made sure she knew it. Now, I had to admit that I was wrong, I had no reason to be pissed at him. Things soon got back to normal with us, and she asked me to stay the night. She made us each an omelet and brought out apple pie for dessert. Afterwards, we went into the living room and played crib.
I hadn’t played crib since I was fourteen. My grandmother had loved the game. She lived just a few blocks from my parent’s house, and I’d go to her place a couple of Saturday mornings each month to eat her incredible cookies, drink a few colas, and try my best to beat her. I rarely did. I sure never beat her as often as she beat me. She’d had a stroke one morning and was dead a week later. I really missed her, and I hadn’t played crib since. I had another reason to look forward to seeing Sue.
After Sue had beaten me soundly at crib, we sat on the porch drinking beer and watching the sunset. Dark clouds blew in and it started to rain. I moved the bike closer to the barn, tight against a low stone wall, threw a tarp over it, and blocked it in with Sue’s car.
We cleared up the dishes and headed up to bed. I was feeling drowsy when we got to the bedroom, but I came around in a big hurry. Sue came out of the bathroom in a light blue teddy and gartered stockings. The garters and stockings had been put on first so they were under the teddy. Very considerate, I thought; the garters and stockings didn’t need to be fiddled with or removed before the silky blue teddy was slipped off. When the teddy did come off, the visual would be as erotic as hell. What’s a guy to do?
Following the hot windup to our evening, Sue had fallen into a deep sleep. I was still keyed up, and tempted to rouse her for another round. Instead, I let her get some rest.
After twenty minutes of looking at the ceiling, I decided to go downstairs and grab another beer. I went out to the porch with it and sat in the dark, staring across the escarpment towards the lake. Nice view. The sky across the water was alive with ambient light from the communities along the north shore, including the city of Toronto. On this side of the lake, and away from the city of Hamilton, it was darker. The carpet of stars directly overhead was impressive. It dwindled towards the lake, but still created a nice effect. In the distance, I could see lights moving across the sky. A string of planes was circling and descending towards Toronto International Airport. It was like sitting in an outdoor theatre watching a spectacular show. I knew I could get used to this. I imagined that someday, my relationship with Sue would get to the point where I’d live here permanently instead of just being a frequent guest.
The relationship needed fixing. I knew that, and I knew that most of that fixing was on me. I decided that, for now, all I could do was enjoy this place and this moment. Lounging on Sue’s porch with it’s view, fresh air, and soft sounds, was a lot better than my apartment’s view of another building’s wall and a parking lot. And, the stillness of the night was a hell of a lot better than the constant wail of sirens and rattle of streetcars. The beer was going down smoothly. I chugged it, then went inside and brought out another.
About an hour later, I began nodding off in the chair. I decided to head in. I’d barely grabbed the handle of the screen door when I heard a man’s voice. It seemed a long way off, past the eastern edge of the property. I couldn’t make out what it was saying. To me the voice sounded like it was coming from the other side of the barn, over by the gravel road that ran south from Ridge Road. I stood and listened for a while, hearing nothing but the hum of crickets. I decided to wait and make sure.
I heard it again. It was a young voice, sounded like a guy in his twenties or thirties. Now, he sounded pissed off. I heard him clearly:
“Leave her alone. Let her be.”
I had to check it out, just in case something serious was going on. I thought about getting a flashlight, but decided I’d probably find out more by not giving away my presence. So, nursing the remains of my second beer, I came down off the porch and walked towards the barn. I stayed close to the old building, deep in the shadows, and looked up and down the road.
I couldn’t see much to the south, the backdrop of trees blocked the light of the stars. To the north, the light was better, so I looked that way as well...nothing. I patrolled the fence line and into the neighboring field...still, nothing.
Between the road and Sue’s property there was a shallow ditch. I stepped over it and stood on the edge of the gravel, staring south. There was a large shape about a hundred yards up the road. It was dark and shadowy against the textured blackness of the tree line. I was sure I saw movement.
I moved quietly up the road towards it. I hadn’t heard a voice since I’d left the porch. I was going to call out, ask what’s going on. I thought better of it. About halfway up the road I stopped and squinted. Whatever it was, it was in exactly the same place as when I’d first seen it. The shadow resembled a man bent over. Was somebody waving?
I picked up my pace. When I got about twenty yards from the spot, I could see it clearly. It was nothing that could talk. In the ditch, one leaning on the other, I saw a pair of oil drums. Someone had filled them with trash. Two large oil drums, shit, that was the shadow I’d seen from down the road. The wave was from a grungy old blanket tangled in the debris. The wind had loosened it, and now one end of the blanket flapped in the breeze.
I thought about walking farther south, but what was the point? It had been a good fifteen minutes since I’d heard anything, and my searching had turned up nothing at all. Still carrying my beer, I walked back to the house, climbed the stairs, and got into bed with Sue. I put the beer on the night table and snuggled against her. Soon, I was asleep.
I CAME AWAKE IN A HURRY. I felt like I was falling, and then I got tossed around like I was in a roll over. A man’s voice screamed at me.
“Get out of this house!”
The bed shot into the air and came down with a thud. It was if a massive creature had seized the mattress and was using it as a snap towel. It kept happening. The shaking and bouncing became more violent. I was completely disoriented and struggled to swing my feet out of the bed. I had no idea what time it was. I landed on my knees, one hand trying to control the bed, the other sweeping the floor near the bed where I’d left my gun.
Sue shrieked, reached across the top of the bed and grabbed onto my wrist. She was holding on tight, but I couldn’t pull her away from whatever was holding her.
I managed to get to my feet, my legs quaking beneath me. Squinting through the darkness, I checked the entire room. Just me, and Sue, the damned bed still bouncing with her on it.
She screamed, but not at me. “What is it? What do you want from me?”
The bouncing stopped.
“This is nuts Sue,” I yelled. “What the hell is happening?”
She shook her head and sobbed. “He’s here. This has happened before.”
“Who’s here?”
I headed towards the light switch on the far wall. Before I got to the switch, I felt a cold chill around me. It was so heavy it almost stopped me in my tracks.
A voice, the same one. This time it was louder, much louder, and in my face. “Leave her alone. Let her be... Get out of here!”
I pushed through the cold. It clung to me like a compress until I got to the switch and flipped it. Sue and I were the only ones in the room, whatever it was had gone. The bedroom door hadn’t opened... The damned thing had just vanished.
I looked at Sue. She stood up, naked except for the stockings and garters. She still looked incredible; shaken and vulnerable, but incredible.
She threw on a housecoat.
“It’s gone. Come on, Phil. Let’s go downstairs.”
Chapter 18
We didn’t speak for a while, just sat at the kitchen table, each nursing a coffee. Sue stared towards the back door, occasionally glancing at me. I tapped my fingers on the side of my mug, trying to get my head around what had just happened. There had to be a logical explanation. I knew Sue was preparing for a deep conversation, and was mapping it out, hoping to convince me that something otherworldly had happened.
Whatever it was that shook the crap out of that bed certainly had my attention, but I was still a long way from going down the road Sue wanted me on. I’d come up with one theory, but I filed it away. It needed work.
Something else occurred to me. Although what just happened had upset Sue, she seemed to be nervous about something else. The fear had subsided, and her body language suggested her nervousness had something to do with me. The more I watched her, the more convinced I became. She was fretting more about what she wanted to say to me than about the crazy ride we’d just been given in her bedroom.
Sue leaned forward on the table and pulled the mug closer, her palms lightly clasped around its warmth. Her eyes stayed down.
“He’s been here before.”
“You said that upstairs, Sue. Who’s been here before?”
“That man, or essence of a man, whatever it was...has been around here before.”
I slid my chair round the table, close enough that I could touch her. I put one hand on her shoulder and my other over her wrist.
“Look, hon, let’s leave the essence stuff out of this talk for now. There’s probably another explanation for this, don’t you think?”
“No, Phil. This thing has been coming at me from out of nowhere. It’s not living. That’s why Charles and Gloria were here, I desperately want their help with this.”
I bit my tongue. I figured that any investigation Charles and Gloria conducted would be a little biased toward the mystica
l stuff I’d heard earlier. If I cared for Sue, and I did, more than anyone I’d ever known, I’d better not trash Charles and Gloria’s input until I had more to go on. I chose my words carefully, decided to lay out some of the theory I’d developed, instead of talking down the spook aspect.
“Sue, sometimes when things shake like that, as crazy as it seems, there’s a rational explanation... Maybe a train passed. Even though the tracks are down by the lake, they really aren’t that far from here. The rattles and bangs can vibrate through ground rock over a long distance. It could be something like that happened.”
She looked at me, her eyes gently scolding. “And...do you think it was the train that told you to leave me alone?”
I hadn’t been sure she’d heard that voice. Hell...I wasn’t even sure I’d heard it. In the confusion upstairs, I might have imagined it. After all, I’d been woken from a deep sleep. Maybe I’d dredged the voice up from memory, I had heard it outside just a few hours earlier.
While Sue was getting the coffee ready, I’d checked every door, window, and room in the house, and had a look around outside. There was no sign of a trespasser, or an intruder. My theory was looking thin. I needed to tick more boxes.
“Phil?”
I sipped my coffee.
“I know you heard it, Phil.”
What could I say? I sat back. “I heard something...but...”
“Good, I’m going to call Charles first thing in the morning. Now that you’ve experienced something, I want him and Gloria to come back, hopefully tomorrow night. Are you available?”
“I am, unless there are new developments at work, I’ll come. But I’m not ready to write this incident off to the paranormal. There’s something else going on, Sue. I don’t want to be a part of—-”
Diamond Run Page 8