Hiding Tom Hawk

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Hiding Tom Hawk Page 23

by Robert Neil Baker


  That could include Harold. He had not found a place to buy a real gun, and had settled for a starter’s pistol bought at a pawn shop. It might keep the other residents of Kessler’s Inn in line, but it wouldn’t fool Tony. He would be a nervous wreck every time he had to cross a street because Tony’s favored way of dealing with opponents was to run over them in the largest vehicle available. The world was ending, and he was all alone.

  Desperate, he left a groveling message on Lester’s answering machine, regretting an unhappy misunderstanding and begging Lester to contact Wyatt and get him back on the payroll. At the very least, the screwball kid might serve to take a bullet for Harold.

  Then, the black clouds parted. He called Renada to find her in high spirits. She suggested he join her for an early restaurant dinner. They would celebrate his becoming a full partner in a magnificent new bed and breakfast in a soon-to-be renovated Matthews’s mansion. She had the papers prepared, signed by Robert and his mother. He needed only to bring a check. He told her he was writing it as they spoke.

  He found her waiting at the table, bent, and kissed the nape of her neck. “My passion flower.”

  “My beautiful brute, my magnificent new business partner.”

  “I have a gift for you.” He handed her the check for his interest in their B&B.

  “Hark, my Harold angel! You make my, our, great dream possible.” She kissed him fulsomely and handed him the partnership papers.

  He stuffed them in his inside sport coat pocket. “How is Mrs. Matthews?”

  She fingered his bank check lovingly. “The doctor tries to give her and Robert false hope. I convinced her to take some more of my special stomach medicine.”

  “Will that work?”

  “It always worked in Germany.”

  “Is it wise to do this so soon?”

  “If she were younger and stronger we could use her for a while. But she is not. With her gone, we can easily control Robert. He is a simpering coward. He sees booger-men under his bed.”

  “Boogeymen.”

  “You have such command of your language. Anyway, we will need him for a couple months.”

  “I see him drooling over you and I go mad. I cannot wait so long.”

  ‘You must. I will let him hold my hand, perhaps kiss me. The evenings will be for you, my Thor.”

  “My Venus!”

  The waitress came and recommended whitefish. After she left, he whispered, “The radio says a fellow who died in the fire here was one of your countrymen, a Horst something.”

  “I have not heard of it, of him. Don’t believe these local police, they are incompetent. You suddenly look unhappy. This should be a celebration. What is wrong?”

  “I expect a former California associate of mine to come here. He can cause me a pile of trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “The fool has taped an autobiography and may have included our earlier, ah, work together. I think someone at the Kessler Inn has it. If it gets published, it’ll ruin me. I need to destroy it, or him.”

  “How awful. Perhaps I can help you, my dumpling. Can we invite him to dinner?”

  “No, he’s been pissed at me since I pulled out on him fourteen years ago. You wouldn’t have a gun that I can borrow?”

  The question threw her somehow, as she was a moment in answering. “Alas, no, I have never owned one. But Harold, you are so strong. Can you not do it, ah, manually?”

  The question went to the subject of his manhood. “Maybe, if I can surprise him.”

  “Very well, how will he come to Houghton? Will he be alone?”

  “I’m sure he’ll come by air, and alone. His bodyguard and his brother all died recently.”

  “Sehr gut. There are only two arriving flights. One is late morning, and one is at dinner time around six. You can ‘greet’ him in a hallway or rest room or parking lot. Beth Kessler has many sturdy kitchen knives. A man like you does not need a gun.”

  Maybe he could. Tony couldn’t possible know he was here, and would be looking only for Hawk or for his own dimwit brothers. She was looking at him expectantly, lovingly. He said, “I shall do it. I shall meet his flight and end this once and for all. You are brilliant.”

  “I am the lesser illumination. You are my sun and moon.”

  Dinner came. The whitefish was dry, but acceptable. They discussed the plans for their prestigious B&B. Of course, he had decided it was going to be named “Harold House,” not the nondescript “Matthews Retreat” currently on the legal papers or the “Schneider Haus” as she had proposed. While Harold paid the bill, Renada confirmed that Robert was still at the hospital. They stopped at the bank, where she deposited his check in a night depository envelope she had previously prepared. She was so well-organized. Then they retired to Mrs. Matthews’s boudoir in the future Harold House.

  ****

  When Tom and Dani got to the airport Saturday morning, the day was gloomy with a discouraging forecast of intermittent rain and fog. They parked the Nash and her Monte Carlo, entered the terminal, and inquired about the incoming morning flight. Down in Chicago, where a passenger from L.A. would make his connection to Houghton, there was heavy rain with serious lightning activity. The Houghton arrival would be delayed over an hour, and they had at least ninety minutes to sit around.

  Tom telephoned the delay to Beth and they found an obscure corner to sit in. He felt pretty well disguised. His beard had come in, and with the dye job and phony eyeglasses he didn’t think he much looked like himself. Tony had only actually been close to him maybe four times and only for a minute or so each time. Dani, though, he would know in a flash. When it got close to arrival time, she would go out to her car, don a broad-brimmed hat and shades, and wait there for Tony and then Tom to exit.

  After a few minutes he got that “being watched” feeling. He looked up cautiously. Across the room was “Red,” the huge Army asshole who had antagonized him in the bar the past Saturday, staring levelly at his Corps tattoo. Tom’s dyed hair and struggling beard were insufficient camouflage. He was sure the big jerk had identified him. Tom was unaccustomed to seeing men that made him feel small, but he was trading surreptitious glances with one now. Under his breath, he muttered to Dani, “Trouble.”

  “What?”

  “That young guy over there, the redhead large enough to make you happy. We had words in a bar. He recognizes me, he would like to kill me, and he’s got the upper body strength to try it.”

  She peered sideways at the kid. “He is magnificent. I mean, sweet Lord!”

  “Calm down, will you? I’m the one brung you to this dance. I may have no choice but to go outside with him.”

  “He’s deliciously large. I know you’re the hotshot Marine and all, but with your screwed-up back you will get killed.”

  “What other choice do we have? We can’t miss Tony because of this lout.”

  “I’ve got a plan. Take this.” She fished a short length of heavy pipe out of her Dani-sized purse and passed it to him. He took it quietly. She had ceased to surprise him. She said, “That’s way better than a can of ravioli. Now I’m getting up and going down the hall to the restrooms. Give me twenty seconds and then go to the men’s room. Make it obvious so he’ll follow you. He won’t attack you here when he can have some privacy to work on you. As soon as you’re in the men’s room, you duck behind the door.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Well duh, I’ll be in the men’s room waiting for you and red-headed Hercules. Pay attention, Tom. As soon as he comes into the john and stops dead, you drop him with that pipe.”

  He started to ask why the giant would stop dead, but Dani was gone. Twenty seconds was endless, as Red was on his feet now and working his way across the room to Tom. Time up, Tom rose and headed for the restroom. The aggrieved Army veteran followed him.

  Tom pushed open the men’s room door and pivoted sharply behind it. Only then did he notice Dani, nature’s all of her, standing by the twin sinks. She l
icked her lower lip languidly with her tongue and winked at him. The door burst open and the giant, angry redhead crashed in. He stopped dead, his eyes transfixed on this magnificent nude. Tom gave him one good pop with Dani’s pipe and he went down on the tile floor, Tom managing to grab him and ease his fall.

  “See, easy,” said Dani, grinning. “Now hold that door closed, at least until I get my panties and bra back on.” She dressed with amazing speed. Dani brought up the Monte Carlo. They moved the passenger seat full rearward, and stuffed him in. “I’ll drive him out in the country a couple miles and drop him on some nice farm. Maybe they’ll adopt him, like a puppy. Any self-respecting farmer’s daughter would. I kind of deserve to see him naked now, you know.”

  “Focus, Dani. You have to be back here in thirty minutes.”

  “No sweat. Back in thirty or less.” She shifted into drive and was gone.

  Fifty minutes later she had not returned.

  ****

  Waiting in the cabin with Gary was driving Beth nuts. She had things to do. She needed someone to cover the B&B. With Horst dead, Renada was in no danger, and she could come back, right? She dialed the Matthews’s number in Calumet. Robert chirped, “Hello, I mean, Matthews Manor.”

  “Robert, this is Beth. Why haven’t you answered our calls?”

  “Mother got real sick last night. She’s at the hospital; we nearly lost her. The doctor thinks it’s from food poisoning but Renada thinks it’s something else.”

  “Oh boy, I’m so sorry. She’ll be all right?”

  “They think so. I can’t come back there to help for an hour or so, though.”

  “Come as soon as you can. Did you or Renada get ill?”

  “No, I’m fine, and she’s downtown, shopping. Then she’ll stop to see Mother.”

  “I really wanted to talk to her. I need her to take care of my house while I’m gone for a while.”

  “Oh, Beth, she can’t come. We’re going to change Mother’s big old place into a B&B like yours.”

  “You’re doing what?”

  “We’re opening our own B&B. We’re not close enough to be competition for you. Isn’t it neat?”

  Not hardly. “Renada already works for me, Robert.”

  “Well, I know you guys had some talk along those lines, but Renada claimed it wasn’t a done deal. She’s promised to find you someone else. Don’t be mad.”

  She was mad, and she wanted to take the time to make that very clear to him, but they had a gangster to capture. Coldly, she said, “Wish your mother well for me.”

  “Sure. Hey, I’ve got to get back to the hospital. Bye, Beth.”

  “Hurry back when you can. You know how to find this cabin, right?”

  “Oh sure.”

  She told Gary what Robert had said. He grimaced. “Really? I’ve eaten Mother Matthews’s cooking. I wouldn’t think there was any way that woman could get food poisoning.”

  “It doesn’t look like we’ll have any help from Robert or Renada.”

  “Beth, he’s afraid of his own shadow.”

  “He’s not as afraid as I am.”

  “I know. Look, don’t get mad, but when you and Tom were in town, Dani and I set up my explosive charge at the gate anyway, just as a back-up. We won’t blow Tony up unless it’s essential to our self-defense.”

  “Aw, Gary…”

  The telephone rang again—Tom. The morning flight would be ninety minutes late. She told Gary, who excused himself to go outside and check their defenses for the third time. What the hell would she do without Renada? What if the cops did conclude she had contributed to Angelo’s death? What if Tony outsmarted them and this was their last day on earth? She shook with fear and anger.

  When she was angry, Beth cleaned house. She opened the cabinet under the stained little sink. There were no cleaning supplies other than a couple frayed cloths, but there was a bottle of blended whiskey, an expensive and well-advertised brand. She put it on the counter and stared at it. Her nerves were shot. Gary had left her alone. Robert and Renada were betraying her. She unscrewed the lid. The sucker was nearly full. Oh boy. After holding it for a long time, she tilted it over the sink drain, tilted it until the whiskey reached the opening, and stopped.

  “Do it.”

  Beth wheeled around. Gary was behind her. “How long have you been there?”

  “I’ve been watching you fondle that thing for over a minute. Beth, for God’s sake, we have an unfortunate family history with alcohol, even by Upper Michigan standards. You only started this drinking nonsense a few months ago. Now stop it.”

  “Does everybody know?”

  “Tom knows, and he doesn’t like it. Look, Tony will be history after today, and you can still have your intelligence, health, looks, business, and Tomahawk. It puts you ahead of everyone in sight. I’ve got to get back outside and do a better job of burying the wires to my explosives.” He closed the cabin door behind him this time, an unnecessary gesture given the condition of the window screens.

  Tom knew about the booze. She’d been pretending he didn’t.

  Beth poured the whiskey, all of it, down the drain and realized she was less, not more, agitated. It had always been like that with Gary. Ninety-nine percent of the time he drove you nuts. And then, he would come through when it counted.

  She turned on the radio and started wiping the grunge off everything she could reach in the cabin, limited slightly by the bum ankle. They played a couple soft rock tunes and cut to the local news. She listened transfixed, then called her cousin in.

  “Gary, they’ve identified Horst as the man who died in your fire.”

  “Whoa, already? I way underestimated the resources of the New Range police.”

  “The FBI came in on it. He was German all right, but he was a detective with the West German police who was following a suspected East German female spy that they want very badly.”

  “What? Not a bad East German agent? He was a West German good guy?”

  “He was West German, but not a good guy. It sounds like he was running some crooked scam with the woman. She cut him out and he was after her. Can they mean anybody but Renada?”

  “You know they can’t, Beth. There’s no other candidate. Wow. Now that I think of it, she always gave me the creeps. Do they think she’s dangerous?”

  “The radio said this woman spy liked to poison people.”

  “Ohmigod, you told us she had hardly gotten there and Robert’s mother got sick.”

  “I cannot believe Renada’s like that. She’s so good with textures and colors.”

  “Beth, we have to call Robert back before Renada can make him an orphan.”

  There was no answer at the Matthews home. Gary said, “We’ve got to go there before she kills them both. I know I put Robert down a lot, but I can’t do without him.”

  “What about Tony? Tom and Dani are depending on us to be here to surprise him.”

  “We’ve just got time. The plane doesn’t come in for an hour and a quarter. Come on!” Gary set the shotgun prominently on the table for Tom and Dani and took Renada’s pistol.

  Gary drove way too fast and Beth craned her neck to spot police cars. All the cops in the county knew his car. The day was getting dark, a storm threatening. It might keep the cops in the donut shop. It might keep them from being noticed.

  ****

  It didn’t. Three miles from the cabin Beth instructed her cousin, “Gary, check your mirror. I think the police are following us.”

  He looked up at the inside rear view mirror. “Uh, no, we’re good. The cops don’t use Firebirds.”

  “Oh. Wait. Did you say Firebird, like in Wyatt’s Firebird?”

  “Oh shit. That’s him behind us, isn’t it? How did he find us?”

  “Probably all he’s been doing is looking for you, Gary. He thinks you made him kill a priest.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that, Beth.”

  “Hey, I was prisoner on a sinking boat. I had to tell him something and you came to mind
. Just keep driving. Maybe he doesn’t know your car.” But the Firebird horn sounded and the lights flashed at them. Beth said, “Pull over. We’ll reason with him.”

  “No. Tom, Dani, Robert, and his mother need us. We don’t have time for a gunfight with Wyatt.”

  “At the campground he told Tom he left his gun on the houseboat.”

  “He also told Tom he’d wait for him while he took a whiz. We know how that worked out.”

  The point was well taken. “Can you lose him?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll try, but he’s got sixty or seventy horsepower on me.”

  They were into New Range now, passing a line of parked cars full of young people. Several were convertibles with tops down, and several others were painted with the local high school colors. This afternoon was the first home football game of the season, Homecoming weekend. Wyatt was still blasting his horn and flashing his lights. Gary started flashing his lights and blowing his horn too. He waved his left hand gaily out the window at the students, a “follow us” motion.

  Beth yelled at him, “Have you lost your mind? We’re trying to get to Calumet without being conspicuous.”

  “We can’t save Mrs. Matthews if Wyatt stops us here. Just watch and learn.”

  One, two, and then five or six carloads of high school students pulled away from the curb on their side or made illegal u-turns from the other side and followed them and Wyatt, horns blowing and lights flashing. Gary was smirking, but the smirk vanished as Wyatt rammed their back bumper, pitching Beth toward the dashboard. “Damn fool!” yelled Gary. He sped up. Beth looked back and guessed the honking, flashing caravan had grown to twelve cars, with one suicidal blonde standing in the back seat of the speeding convertible just behind Wyatt, waving and blowing kisses.

  They reached the football field with its separate in and out roads straddling the ticket and concession booth. Gary started a parade lap around the track that circled the field. Wyatt had stopped tapping his bumper, probably because the kid behind him in the ’61 Ford convertible had decided that was great fun, and he was banging merrily into the back of the Firebird. As they reached the south goalpost Gary floored the Thunderbird and raced in a great arc near the outer fence toward the exit road.

 

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