by Dave Conifer
“I never even met the guy. Can you believe it?” Fargo said. “I seen him once when he testified, right before I did. I don’t even remember what he looks like.”
“That must have been at grand jury,” Willmar said, “since you never had a trial. Let’s back up from there. This is big.”
“You want anything to drink?” Fargo asked, walking over to the refrigerator. “I think Joanie picked up some coffee but I don’t know how to make it around here.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“I’m gonna have some juice,” he said. Willmar tried not to laugh as he watched Fargo twist the lid off the plastic jug and take a few swigs of OJ.
“What if I’d said yes?” he asked Fargo.
Fargo smiled. “I’d have poured you a glass. Before I had mine.”
“So anyway, Colfax seems like just another trooper when he starts out, right? This is early nineties,” Willmar explains. “He’s moving along with the rest of his class. Nothing you wouldn’t expect. Now, here’s where your man Rip Mankato comes in. He and Colfax must have been friends.”
“Shit,” Fargo said. “That reporter knew about that. I sure as hell didn’t. It explains a lot.”
“Yeah, well turns out they both come from the same hometown. Ramapo, up in North Jersey. Actually, I couldn’t figure out where Rip was from,” Willmar admitted, “but apparently he lived in Ramapo long enough to get to know Colfax.”
“And Rip has the connections to get all these promotions for the cop?” Fargo asked. “That’s hard to believe. Rip was a rough dude. He could kick a lot of ass and make things happen on the street, but not in the state fucking police. I bet they hated him as much as I did.”
Willmar reached back and removed the band that held his ponytail together, then settled back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. “You been following the elections, Billy?”
“Not really. I watched something for a few minutes last night, I guess. I don’t get to vote, remember?”
“Well, you’ll be interested in this,” Willmar said, leaning forward, one elbow landing on the table top. “The state boys I talked to all said the same thing. There was a politician in the background that was ordering these promotions all along. A state senator. Then he was governor. Ever heard of Mike Minot? Because he’s the man behind the curtain who worked the magic. He’s the reason Colfax went to the head of the class.”
“I saw that guy on TV last night! He’s runnin’ for president!”
“I bet you did. He’s going places, that’s for sure. I’ll bet that once he was governor, he got Colfax that plum job at Homeland Security.”
“What does Rip Mankato have to do with it, then?”
“I don’t know yet. I think he was the go-between. Maybe he knew Minot. He must have. He definitely knew Colfax. Maybe Minot went to him and asked for a cop to do some dirty work. Dirty work like framing sad sacks like you. Maybe there were others. Who knows?”
“You really believe this?” Fargo asked. “Why would a big shot like this Minot want to frame a shit-for-brains guy like me? What did I do to him? He’s never heard of me.”
Willmar shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he conceded. “I’m still digging. But the fact is that Colfax framed you, and he couldn’t have done it without somebody like Minot in his corner. Mankato couldn’t pull these kind of strings on his own. That’s a fact you can’t argue with. All the things Colfax did that night couldn’t have been a coincidence. There’s a reason behind it. Just because we can’t explain it yet doesn’t mean it isn’t true. There’s got to be something we aren’t thinking of, or just plain don’t know.”
“I guess,” Fargo said.
“And what about the prosecutor all of a sudden re-opening that case and dragging your name through it?” Willmar continued. “Enough that they were about to lock you back up. Which they were,” he added. “What about that? Stuff like that doesn’t just happen. Somebody with a lot of influence made it happen. Not some cop, or some street punk. Somebody who has a lot of weight to throw around.”
“Mike Minot? You think he’s behind that, too?”
“Do I think it?” Willmar asked. “Yes. Can I prove it, or do I even understand it? Nope. Not yet, at least.”
“It’s so friggin’ complicated. Hard to believe anybody even cared I exist.”
“If you think about it, it’s actually a lot simpler to believe there’s one man driving this, one man with a single motivation,” Willmar said. “Ever heard of Occam’s razor?”
“Jesus,” Fargo said. “Not really. But I get it.”
“So now maybe you understand why Osama and I aren’t carrying our cell phones around?”
“I gotta’ take a leak,” Fargo said before disappearing from the room. Willmar had blown him away, and he needed to get away from that table. This guy might be a little nuts, he thought. Can’t tell yet. Why the fuck would a big cheese running for president give a shit about somebody like me? After he was finished he wandered into the bedroom and plunked himself flat on the bed, not ready to go back to the kitchen. It was getting scary.
~~~
Willmar was still parked at the table flipping through the files when Fargo came back fifteen minutes later. He couldn’t figure out why this bail bondsman, bounty hunter and private detective cared at all, but hell, it couldn’t hurt. He needed all the help he could get. “You’ve got to rack your brains, man,” Willmar said even before Fargo had taken a seat. “Can you think of anything at all that the two cases have in common?”
“Well, for one thing, I’m innocent in both of them. How about that?”
“I think that’s important,” Willmar said. “It just goes to show you that something really is going on here.”
“I guess.”
“I talked with Kevin Morris yesterday. He didn’t seem to know much. Didn’t want to talk, like he just wanted to keep all this in his past. Seems like a decent guy. I gave him my card just in case he thinks of something, but he probably won’t. He’s already had eleven years for that.”
“I think you’re making this all too complicated, Ricky. I don’t know Minot. I don’t even know the cop, really. But I know Mankato,” Fargo said emphatically. “I never liked him and he never liked me. I think it starts and ends with him. Simple as that. Gail told me he’d do anything to get those little girls away from her. Maybe even try to kill her in a house fire.”
“But he’s nothing but a thug. Could he--”
“Not anymore,” corrected Fargo. “Now he’s nothin’ but a body in the ground.”
“But my point is that the things we’re talking about aren’t things a street thug like Mankato could do. Could Mankato ram your rape case through without a trial? Could he get the murder case re-opened eleven years after that fire? Could he get your parole revoked? Hell, you just said yourself that he’s dead. You think he’s calling the shots from the grave? No, there’s somebody bigger than him in all this.”
“But it don’t make any sense, Ricky. I’m a nobody.”
“Apparently that’s not true. We just haven’t figured it out yet,” Willmar said. “How about while you were in prison? Did you have any problems with anybody who might be connected?”
“Everybody has problems with everybody else in prison. That’s how it works.”
“So maybe you bumped heads with the wrong guy in there,” Willmar said.
“But this all started before I even got there,” Fargo pointed out.
“True,” Willmar allowed. “We’ve got some work to do here. But there’s something we’re not seeing, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
The two dreamed up a few more theories as the afternoon played out, but neither felt like they were getting close to the truth by the time Willmar had to leave. Fargo knew he was expecting too much, but even so, he was annoyed later in the day that Joanie hadn’t arrived before it got dark outside. For a fraction of a second he considered walking into town, the one on the Jersey side of the river, and getting some di
nner. That would be dumb, he convinced himself. He’d been on the run for over a day now. The manhunt might have begun. Instead, he pulled a pack of hotdogs from the refrigerator and threw them in a pot on the stove to boil. He didn’t know for certain that Joanie was coming out at all. No use going hungry.
~~~
He was plucking the dogs from the boiling water when he heard the sound of crunching tires, a sound his brain was coming to associate with the nervous excitement of knowing he had a visitor, for better or worse. This time he decided not to run out the back. If anybody had traced him this far, they’d have the manpower to hunt him down any place he could go on foot anyway. He twisted the dial to turn the gas burner off, but left the dogs in the water as he scrambled to the front window.
There was no doubt that the figure that was approaching the cabin was a female. But it definitely ain’t Joanie. Too skinny. It hit him when she stepped onto the porch, even though it made no sense. How the hell did Gail Mankato find this place?
But it was her. She tapped so lightly on the door that he’d never have heard it if he hadn’t been on the other side listening for it. Even though he already knew, he was still surprised when he opened the door. “Gail!” he said, stepping back so she could come inside. “How’d you find me here? What are you doing here?”
She smiled. “Nice to see you again too, Billy.”
“It’s just that I’m kind of hidin’ out, that’s all.”
“Can I take off my coat?’
“Of course. I was just about to eat. I can’t believe you found me.”
“It wasn’t easy, if that makes you feel any better,” she said, smiling. “I remember you told me where Kevin was, so I called him.”
“He knew?”
“No, not exactly.”
“Do want a hot dog?” he asked. “I made extra.”
“I’m still a vegetarian, but go ahead and eat.”
“Damn, that’s right,” he said. “We’ll find somethin’. Come on in and we’ll see what we got. Kevin didn’t know where I was, did he? I hope not. I don’t want it to spread around too much.”
“No, but he had a phone number for somebody who did. Ricky?”
“Oh, yeah, Ricky Willmar. He was just here this afternoon.”
“I called him and he didn’t answer, but then he called me right back,” she explained. “He was calling from a pay phone because his is tapped. He told me where you were.”
“Ricky told you?” Fargo asked. “I’m surprised he did that over the phone. He’s usually really careful. He won’t even bring his phone here.”
“He made me prove who I am,” Gail said. “He knows a lot about me. It felt strange.”
“Why didn’t he say anything about you when he was here a little while ago?”
“I told him I wanted to surprise you.” She pulled a can of tomato soup from a cabinet. “You’re in a lot of trouble, aren’t you, Billy?”
“Sure feels like it.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“I doubt it. Just don’t tell anybody I’m here.”
Fargo was amazed to see her pop the top off the soup can and peel it away. “Just like a can of soda,” he said. “Amazing how much everything changed while I was in.”
“That must be weird. Go ahead and eat,” she urged him, so he did. She put the soup on the stove and came over to sit with him at the table. “I came out because there was something I should have mentioned to you the other day.” She told him about the mysterious scrap she received in the mail, ending by pulling it from her purse, unfolding it and passing it across the table.
“So you think Rip is still around, after all?’ Fargo asked after examining it.
“Just a gut feeling,” she answered. “I’ve thought a lot about it.”
He jammed the butt end of the second hotdog into his mouth. “This farm probably isn’t that far from here,” he said as he chewed.
“I wasn’t exactly sure where it was.”
“You know, I don’t think I’m going to survive this thing, I really don’t,” Fargo said. “If he’s this close, I might have to take a ride out there and make sure he don’t, either. He’s the cause of all this, I’m sure of it, no matter what Ricky says.”
“Don’t talk like that. Please. You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s got to be a way out.”
“If there is, I ain’t seein’ it yet.”
“Just be careful, Billy. He’s the meanest man I ever knew.”
“Take a look around, Gail. I’m hiding in the woods in the middle of friggin’ nowhere. Does it look like I ain’t bein’ careful?”
“So who’s this Ricky?”
“He’s a friend of a friend,” he told her, hoping that would be enough. “He’s a private eye and he knows lots of people. He’s helping me out as best he can. Smells like your soup’s burning,” he said, instantly regretting his choice of words. She rose long enough to pour some of it into a bowl, which she brought back to the table along with a spoon she’d found in the first drawer she looked in.
“Did you come all the way from Freehold?”
“I did,” she said.
“If you don’t feel like making the long drive back, you could stay over,” he offered.
“I just might do that,” she said, relief evident on her face. “I get nervous being out in the dark, especially out here in the woods.”
“No problem,” he said, wondering how complicated it might get if Joanie showed up. “It ain’t fancy, but I got plenty of room.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said. “But I have to ask. What do you do around here for entertainment?”
-- Chapter 15 --
“Listen,” Colfax said, “I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to tell you I got a message from one of your guys. Apparently they’ve got something set up that I don’t know about,” he explained cryptically, being careful not to say too much on an open phone line. “It sounds big. Dangerous, too, maybe.” He wondered who’d set it up, but didn’t expect to find out. On this one he was a messenger only.
“Thank you for the update,” the voice said. Colfax knew that the man on the other end of the connection was equally concerned about saying too much. He probably knew all about this already. If something big did happen, it would be suicide to give the impression to anybody who might be listening that either man had an inkling of exactly what it was. “Keep me posted.” Click.
~~~
“Lemme’ ask you something, Gail.” It was nearly midnight and they’d been sitting in the main room of the cabin talking about old times for the past three hours. Fargo was disappointed that Joanie hadn’t made it out to the cabin, but at the same time he’d enjoyed catching up with Gail. It got even better when she went out to the car to grab a bottle of wine that she had for whatever reason. Wine wasn’t something he’d drunk more than once or twice in his life, it was for pussies and chicks, but at that moment he’d have settled for anything with alcohol. He probably wouldn’t have asked this question without a few glasses of the stuff in him.
“Sure. But don’t think I don’t know what it’s about.”
“You do?”
“Of course. Everybody wants to know the same thing. Why don’t I try to get my face fixed. Right?”
“Well, sort of. I mean, you know. I shouldn’t have said nothin’,” he mumbled, before draining the last of his third glass.
“I’m not sure myself anymore. I still could, I guess,” she said. “I waited too long. The doctors wanted to work on me a long time ago. I just didn’t care about anything back then. And I didn’t think I ever would again.”
“The whole thing sucked,” Fargo said. “Being in jail, wondering if you thought I did it. Most everybody else did. They were great kids.”
“It hurt so bad. Not just that they were gone, but the way it happened. I couldn’t stop picturing their little faces in the fire. They probably called for me. A mom’s supposed to protect her kids.” She wiped her eye. “What was it like to be trapped in
there, burning to death? It’s all I could think about for years. Kind of makes it hard to live your life. And I miss them so much. Every day.”
“If there was a bomb I bet they died instantly,” he blurted.
“That’s what all the cops said, too. I hope so. The worst part is imagining them suffering,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “If they had to go, I hope it was quick. I never understood why people said things like that until that day.”
He moved closer and put an arm around her but said nothing.
“I never thought I could ache that way for so long,” she said. “I just can’t put it into words how it felt. It hurt me physically. I couldn’t eat or sleep. They finally put me in a hospital. A nut house, if you want to know the truth. And I didn’t care. I knew where I was, but I couldn’t have cared less.”
“I guess I was already in prison by then.”
“I didn’t mean to do this to you tonight.” She waggled a finger at him, smiling through her tears. “But you walked right into it.”
“Guess I did.”
“I know I look like a monster,” she said. “I tried wearing makeup a few years ago. It just doesn’t work, even if I swab on a whole tub of base. The kid at the supermarket said I looked like a transvestite.”
“What an asshole,” Fargo said. “Wish I’d been there.”
She smiled again. “He was right. It was more like Bride of Frankenstein. I never tried it again after that. Some people stare, some look at the floor, whatever. Nothing I can do about it.”
“Did you ever think about getting a gun and driving out to that dairy farm, if you really think Rip’s out there? Because if I had a gun right now, I’d be on my way there.”
She shook her head. “I’m not you, Billy. And that was a while ago. Rip’s a drifter. I’ve never known him to stay in one place very long. I can’t imagine he’s still there, if he ever was.”
He thought about telling her what Ricky had said about Mike Minot, the guy running for president, but decided not to. It might be too complicated to explain after all that wine. He hardly understood it himself. Besides, he thought they both preferred at that moment to blame Rip Mankato for everything. It just felt better.