Rusty Puppy

by Joe R. Lansdale

  “Maybe,” Brett said. “Good-bye.”

  While Leonard slowly sucked on his Dr Pepper and enjoyed his cookies, which he had replaced at some point without telling me, I told him about the safe house, about Chance wanting to come on board.

  “I like it,” Leonard said. “She’s a lot smarter than you, and that would certainly help. You know what would make a great sign? ‘Brett Sawyer Investigations, along with Leonard Pine, Hap Collins, and Baby Daughter.’”

  “Hurry up,” I said. “Let’s dump this gun.”

  40

  We went downstairs and out to the car.

  The light that was supposed to be shining in the parking light was not shining. It had been shining moments ago. I looked at the post. The light had been knocked out, maybe with a rock.

  “Shit,” Leonard said.

  He caught on to the sudden absence of light about when I did.

  Two black men were waiting in the dark near a line of shrubs that connected to a house on the side of our business and the bicycle shop. They came out into the open and joined us where we stood next to our car. One of them had a limp, the other wore a baseball cap with DAIRY BOB on it, an East Texas hamburger and hot-dog chain ran by a guy named, you guessed it, Bob. His father before him and his grandfather before that were named Bob. I just thought you might want to know.

  The guy with the baseball cap moved as if itchy.

  They were very large men with very ugly faces and they had some huge black pistols that were equally unattractive. One was holding a flat, black automatic on us; the other held his similar weapon to the side of his leg. I thought they looked familiar.

  “There they are, Mr. and Mrs. Fucked-Up America,” said the one with a limp. “King White Trash and King Black-Ass Nigger.”

  “Which is which?” Leonard said. “And do we get both awards?”

  “We got the guns, and you’re running your mouth,” said the limping man.

  “It’s not like I figure we cooperate, things are going to turn out well,” Leonard said. “Might as well go for it. And what the fuck is your beef? We don’t know you.”

  “But we know you,” said Limp. “We know you just fine. We also know a lot about you.”

  “Nice stuff, I hope,” Leonard said.

  “Not a word of it,” said Itchy, and he scratched at his chest with his free hand. He kept moving and scratching like his skin was full of fleas. “Couple of smart-mouths that need taking care of, and we can do that.”

  “Lice?” I said, as Itchy scratched again.

  “Scabies,” he said.

  “What we’re gonna need you to do,” said Limp, “is get in your car. One of you drive. We sit in the back with guns and you do what we say.”

  “Why would we do that?” I said.

  “We have guns.”

  “I’ve had enough of that shit,” Leonard said. “I’m at the point where you got to shoot me right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Me too,” I said. “This would be our second abduction tonight.”

  Limp and Itchy looked at each other.

  Limp said, “We want you to get in the car.”

  “Nope,” Leonard said. “Shoot us right here.”

  “We ain’t supposed to do that,” said Itchy.

  “Life is just full of little disappointments,” I said. “We’re not going anywhere with you two. You can make noise and a mess here in the neighborhood, but we’re not getting in a car with you.”

  You could almost see and hear the machinery working in their heads. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They weren’t supposed to make a mess here, not where they could be heard firing guns and be seen.

  I put my hand in my coat pocket. Barker’s little pistol was there. I casually took hold of it, still wrapped in the handkerchief, and shifted it a little and pointed it at Limp, who was closest, and pulled the trigger.

  The little gun made a snapping sound, not too loud, not the way their guns would have, and Limp made a face. Neither he nor Itchy seemed to understand what was happening.

  Limp’s gun sagged in his hand. “That’s some shit,” he said, and went to his knees.

  Limp was so surprised he dropped his gun. I kicked it away, and by that time Leonard had moved, surprising a distracted Itchy. He had hold of Itchy’s hand. He pushed Itchy’s gun aside and hit him on the jaw with his free hand. Itchy went back against my car. Leonard hit him again. Blood ran out of his nose and over his mouth.

  Itchy moved as if to fight back, and Leonard hit him again.

  Itchy sat on the ground and Leonard took the pistol from him about the same time I picked the other one up. Leonard looked at the pistol.

  “The safety was on,” Leonard said.

  41

  My shot had hit Limp in his gimp leg, in the upper thigh, and he was bleeding, but not as much as I had feared. The bullet had gone into him and stopped. It was a bad load, and I was glad for that. I wasn’t going to have another man’s death on my head. Leonard wanted to shoot both of them and call it in as a random shooting in our parking lot.

  I doubted anyone would believe that. I pulled Limp over so his back was against my car, his butt against the rear tire. He was about four feet from Itchy, who hadn’t tried to get up. Itchy sat where he was, shaking a little, scratching.

  “All right,” I said. “You are going to have to spill it.”

  Limp said nothing. Itchy said, “We gave our word not to rat.”

  Leonard put the gun he had taken from Itchy against Itchy’s head.

  “I got the safety off,” Leonard said. “I don’t like you.”

  “We don’t even know you,” said Itchy.

  “What I was thinking,” Leonard said. “So why kill us?”

  “Money,” said Limp.

  “How much?” Leonard said.

  “Five hundred,” Limp said.

  “That’s it?” said Leonard. “That hurts, man. That hurts.”

  “Who was it hired you?” I said. “Best talk. Leonard there, he’s got a short fuse and you two have lit it.”

  “Roscoe.”

  I looked at Leonard, and Leonard looked at me.

  “Roscoe?” Leonard said.

  “Who’s Roscoe?” I asked.

  “Roscoe Washington,” Limp said.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s go at this a different way. Who’s Roscoe Washington?”

  “Bartender at the Joint,” Itchy said.

  “No shit?” I said.

  Itchy nodded at Leonard. “He didn’t like this one peed on his floor.”

  “In my defense,” Leonard said, “I did ask where the restroom was.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “He did.

  “Ah, hell,” I said. “I remember you two in a back booth.”

  “He found out who you guys were, and he sent us,” Itchy said.

  “Roscoe might as well have hired a couple of squirrels and given them guns,” I said.

  “We had our own guns,” Itchy said.

  “How nice,” Leonard said.

  Leonard held the gun on them and I pulled out my cell phone and called Marvin. I didn’t call 911. I called Marvin’s private cell.

  He actually answered.

  “We got a little something for you,” I said.

  “Shit,” Marvin said. “I hate it when you have that tone. It’s never anything good.”

  “This one is kind of fifty-fifty,” I said, “but I done a bad thing.”

  “Of course you did,” Marvin said. It sounded on the other end as if his life force had left him. “Okay, Hap. Tell Daddy what you done.”

  “I shot a guy with a limp with Barker’s .22 pistol. He limps worse now.”

  “No, you didn’t?”

  “Yep. I did.”

  “I want to express my complete hatred for you,” he said. “I told you to get rid of that goddamn gun.”

  “Was on my way to do it, and, well, these two guys came up and they had guns and they wanted to make us get in my car a
nd were going to drive us off somewhere and shoot us.”

  “If only,” Marvin said.

  “Hey,” I said.

  Leonard said, “Tell him how much we were worth.”

  “They were going to shoot us for five hundred dollars,” I said. “Wait.” I turned my attention to Limp. “Was that apiece?”

  “To split,” Limp said.

  “Really?” I said.

  Limp nodded.

  “We got some raccoons out of an attic for the same price,” Itchy said.

  “They were going to kill us and then split five hundred dollars, the same they got for getting raccoons out of an attic.”

  “Raccoons are underrated,” Marvin said. “They are tough little buggers. You know, they can pick locks, and once they do it, they can remember how to do it easily for up to three years, case they need to come back.”

  “That’s some fascinating shit, Marvin.”

  “Where are you?”

  I told him, and he said, “I’m coming. You are going to really love seeing me.”

  “Not as much as you might think,” I said.

  42

  Everybody hates us,” I said.

  We were back at the cop shop, but this time in the smaller interrogation room.

  Officer Carroll came in. He looked at Leonard, said, “We may have to put those workouts off for a while.”

  “I hear that,” Leonard said.

  Marvin opened the door and came into the room.

  “You make it so hard,” he said. “If I let you go up for a few things sometimes, that would make my life easier. Actually, you might do better in prison.”

  “Been there,” I said. “Didn’t love the food.”

  “It was self-defense,” Leonard said. “We didn’t start it.”

  Marvin collapsed into a chair like a discarded ventriloquist’s dummy. “I know, but I still hate both of you.”

  “We are on a lot of people’s lists,” I said.

  “Sometimes at the very top of them,” Leonard said.

  “Those two idiots said what they did,” Marvin said, “and why, and even said you shot in self-defense.”

  “That’s nice of them,” Leonard said.

  “They are dumb as two bricks in a sack of shit,” Marvin said. “Problem here is you shot that gun. You know the one. One I told you to get rid of. Small. Twenty-two-caliber that didn’t used to exist but might exist now. Was in your coat pocket wrapped in a handkerchief. Ring any bells?”

  “I know just the one,” I said. “But here’s one thing. The handkerchief was wrapped around it, so my fingerprints aren’t on it.”

  “True,” Marvin said, “but it was in your coat pocket, and there’s a hole in your coat pocket that the bullet from the gun came out of, and the bullet, when ballistics gets through, will be from the same gun that belonged to Barker.”

  “But he wasn’t shot with a twenty-two,” I said.

  “No, but since that’s his twenty-two, even Laurel and Hardy in there could figure out that with you having it in your pocket, you might have taken it from Barker.”

  “That is a problem,” I said.

  “So are your fingerprints on Laurel and Hardy’s weapons?”

  “We disarmed them,” Leonard said. “Course our prints are on their guns.”

  “What we got here is what we call a detective’s dilemma,” Marvin said.

  “They call it that?” I said.

  “Of course not, donkey dick,” Marvin said.

  He sighed and sat still for a long time. Finally he said, “Give me your coat.”

  I stood up and pulled it off and gave it to him.

  Marvin took it and went out of the room and a moment later Officer Carroll came in.

  “He said for me to drive you two home,” Officer Carroll said. “And he said too that you two shouldn’t think you’re going to slide out of this one. But between you and me, I think you will. We want the bad guys, not you guys. We’ll get around the twenty-two slug somehow.”

  43

  Officer Carroll drove me back to my car in the office lot and let me out, said, “I’ll drive Leonard home. I’m supposed to make sure he gets there. Chief thinks you two do better when you’re not together.”

  “What about me?” I said. “I am a known desperado.”

  “You’ll be all right,” he said.

  He drove away with Leonard sitting on the front passenger side.

  He hadn’t even said good-bye.

  I drove home then, and it wasn’t until I was in the house that I realized Brett and Chance were in the safe house still nursing the flu. I felt weak and tired and lonely and disappointed and small and worthless right then. I got a blanket out of the hall closet, and a pillow, and put them on the couch. I went upstairs and got my revolver from the nightstand and brought it down and laid it on the floor beside the couch. I went into the kitchen and poured a glass of milk and made myself a cheese sandwich, but after three or four bites, I put it in the garbage.

  I checked to make sure all the doors were locked and no windows were open, and then I turned out the lights and stretched out on the couch, nestled my head into the pillow, and pulled the blanket over me.

  I lay there and the ceiling got close, and then the walls got close. I had experienced something like this before, and right then I knew I had been too cocky about my recovery.

  Reality was coming down on me now that I had had time to relax and let it all soak into me. I’d been abducted twice in one night and held at gunpoint, and the feelings I had missed out on after coming back from the dead had been jump-started. I trembled for a while. I had faced worse than those two goons a number of times, but right then it all came down on me, them and everything else I had ever done that I shouldn’t have.

  I wondered about Leonard. But I knew the answer to that. He was fine. And if he wasn’t fine, I might never know, even as close as we were. There were some bridges he didn’t cross even with me, at least not yet. I lay there and trembled for a long time, and then I told myself, It’s over. I’m fine. No use feeling this kind of fear when there was nothing to fear.

  Then why do you have a revolver lying by the couch if you’re doing so good, tough guy? Why’s that?

  Just because, I told myself, but then, as fast as it had come over me, the trembling stopped and I found my center and started to relax. I thought of Brett. I thought of Chance, and of course I thought of my brother, Leonard.

  He was probably in his apartment with Officer Carroll doing what a client of ours had once called the dirty dog.

  You’re all right, I told myself. You’re good. Don’t worry now. You didn’t die and you’re fine and you’ll be okay. Everything will work out. You know what happened to Jamar now, and all that remains is to tell his mother, sad and horrible as that will be. Figuring out who killed him was solved too, though not proved. That was the next step, and we had given the information we had to Marvin, so it was in his court now.

  Eventually, I slept.

  44

  The next day I woke up and made coffee and had a granola bar for breakfast. I called Brett to make sure everything was okay, and it was. She and Chance were almost well and planned to come home later that day.

  When we finished talking I poured myself another cup of coffee and called Leonard.

  “And how are you this morning?” I asked.

  “Better than I been in a long time.”

  “I got the impression that you and Officer Carroll may have gone home together.”

  “His name is Curt. I call him Pookie.”

  “To me he will always be Officer Carroll.”

  “Well, he is very official. I had to work hard not to let him take charge in bed. You know I don’t like that.”

  “Actually, I didn’t know that, and now that I do, I wish I didn’t. How is he?”

  “Very firm.”

  “Generally.”

  “Very firm.”

  “Leonard, come on, man.”

  “I like hi
m. Quite a bit.”

  “I thought way it worked is you wanted someone softer than you, more feminine. Two tough gays, I don’t know. That might throw the universe out of whack.”

  “Since I know you’re trying to be funny, I’ll let that pass,” Leonard said.

  “He still there?”

  “Nope. Had to go to work. By the way, I now have an inside track, and when I was listening to Pookie talking to Marvin this morning, I learned they arrested Roscoe. He admitted it all. He says he was only going to have us beat up good, take us out in the woods and have those two knuckleheads pound on us awhile, tell us why he did it, and leave us out there to make our way home. Not only was the one gun on safety, it and the other one were unloaded.”

  “Maybe they were just stupid.”

  “They were that, okay, but I’m not sure I believe Roscoe. I think he picked a couple of turnips. He may have given them the guns and they were too stupid to check the safety and the loads.”

  “They said those were their guns.”

  “Turned out they lied. Changed their story. Said Roscoe gave them the guns.”

  “That Roscoe,” I said. “What a kidder.”

  “Thing is, they got him,” Leonard said. “I’m going to take a shower and have a big cup of coffee, some ham and eggs and a side of grits, all cooked by me.”

  “So, a nasty meal, way you cook.”

  “You offering to take me to breakfast?”

  “I had a granola bar and coffee,” I said. “I’m done.”

  “Cheap man.”

  “You ate my salad. I have not forgotten.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll check up on you later.”

  “Officer Carroll, huh?”

  “Good-bye, Hap.”

  45

  Brett and Chance and Buffy came home about lunchtime. The flu had finally faded and they were feeling spry, even if they looked a little watery-eyed and tired.

  “Don’t kiss me,” Brett said. “I’m over it, but who knows, I might still be contagious.”

  “Yeah, we better not hug either,” Chance said.

  Buffy sniffed my pants cuff. Her I could pat and hug, and I did.