“Fine. I can be at the hospital in—”
“She’s not there. Do you know where Dr. Palmer’s apartment is?”
“No. Why is she there?”
“She wanted to go home.”
“You broke her out of the hospital?”
“That’s not important right now. What’s important is you get over here and help her through this. There’s only so much I can do.”
“Yeah, I know what kind of dad you are.”
That’s the second time in the last day someone’s insulted my parenting. I know better than to say anything right now. “I’ll give you the address. You got something to write it down with?”
She writes down the address and promises to be over in an hour or so. Then she hangs up before I can say goodbye. There’s nothing to do now but wait for the shitstorm that will hit once she gets here.
***
Clarita wakes up before Maddy gets here. Her teeth and gums are still a little sore, so I just give her some canned pasta that shouldn’t be too hard to chew. She’s strong enough to get out of bed on her own to use the bathroom, although she takes Pinky with her for company. That poor little monkey has been through a lot in the last four years.
I hear a knock on the door. That must be Maddy. At least I hope it’s her and that she didn’t call the police. Just to be sure I look through the peephole. There’s my little girl; she paws the floor like a bull ready to charge.
When I open the door, she brushes past me. “Where is she?”
“In the bedroom.”
“Nice place she’s got here.”
“She’s not much for furniture,” I say.
“So you’re living here?”
“I’m keeping her company.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Madison—”
She stomps away from me and goes down the hall. By the time I get there, Madison is on the floor next to Clarita, who shows Maddy the pictures she’s colored. “That’s very pretty,” Maddy says.
“I stayed in the lines too,” Clarita says.
“You sure did.”
“You kids want anything?” I ask from the doorway.
“We’re fine,” Maddy snaps.
I know when I’m not wanted, so I retreat down the hall. I fiddle with Clarita’s laptop for a while to pry out any information that might be useful. Vollmer has to be lying low somewhere; even vicious killers have to sleep sometime. If I could just figure out where she’s holed up, I could flush her out, or just snap her neck while she naps on the couch.
After a while, Maddy and Clarita emerge from the bedroom. Clarita’s long platinum hair is braided and she wears a powder blue dress that gives her a Heidi look. “Do you like it?” Clarita asks.
“You look very grown up,” I say.
“Thanks.”
“Clarita and I were thinking about going out and doing some shopping. Maybe get her hair trimmed a little,” Maddy says.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s still changing.”
“Come on, Steve, I’ve been cooped up here for days. I wanna go out.”
“A few days ago you wanted to come here,” I say.
“Yes, but now I wanna go out.”
“It’ll help her feel normal,” Maddy says.
“It didn’t help you,” I say. I think of a disastrous trip to Wal-Mart with Tess when Maddy and I were little.
“She can’t stay locked up forever.”
“Fine,” I say with a sigh. “But we’re not going too far, not today. We’ll go down to the park, OK?”
“I don’t wanna go to the park.”
Maddy nudges Clarita in the ribs. “It’ll be fun. You can play on the swings and the slides and stuff.”
Clarita thinks about it for a moment. Finally, she nods. “I guess so.”
We walk with Clarita between Maddy and I. For one thing that will make sure she doesn’t get away from us and for another it makes sure Maddy and I don’t get too close. That’s Maddy’s idea, not mine. I don’t know how long she can stay mad at me; I guess she has a lot of practice after all these years.
There’s a park about three blocks down. It’s not all that big, but there’s a playground with swings, a slide, a merry-go-round, and a sandbox. Clarita presses against my leg; I rub her back gently to reassure her. Maddy pats Clarita’s shoulder. “Don’t be scared. It’ll be fun. Remember what we talked about?”
“Yes.”
“Steve and I will be right here to make sure nothing bad happens.”
“OK.” She trudges away from us, to make her way over to the swings. She takes an unoccupied swing at the end of the line while Maddy and I go sit down on a bench to watch her. Maddy makes sure there’s a good foot between us on the bench.
“What was it you talked about?” I ask.
“I was just telling her she should try to enjoy being a kid again. It wasn’t so bad when we were kids, was it?”
“Most of the time.” Once we were free of Dr. Ling and his needles. I watch as Clarita starts to swing. At first she’s hardly got any momentum at all. She turns to some of the other kids, to watch them pump their legs to generate more speed. As a scientist, it’s probably easy for her to figure out the mechanics of it. Before long she whizzes through the air, platinum braid trailing behind her. “She’s starting to have fun.”
“Yeah, she is.” Maddy sighs. “She’s so much cuter than we were. I mean, not because she’s white, but she’s not fat and she doesn’t have glasses or anything.”
“I always thought you were cute. You still are.”
“God, that sounds so creepy.”
“Can’t a father compliment his daughter?”
“That would be a first.”
“Maddy, I’m sorry about what happened. What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
“Maybe go eat all the sand in the sandbox for starters.”
I try to use Mac’s psychiatrist voice as I ask, “You think that would really help?”
“It couldn’t hurt.”
“Madison, be reasonable. I always loved you. I still love you.”
“Yeah, right. That’s why you slept with Grace. That’s why you didn’t see me for twelve fucking years. Not even a fucking card.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I thought it would be best—”
“I don’t care. I’m here to help Clarita.” Maddy turns her head towards the swings, where Clarita still whips back and forth.
“There’s another way I need you to help Clarita,” I say. This isn’t how I wanted things to go, but I can’t put it off any longer. “I’m trying to find the bastard who did this to her. The same bastard who killed me.”
“I should have figured you’d have an ulterior motive. You selfish son of a bitch. All you ever care about is yourself.”
“It’s not just me. Almost twenty people are dead thanks to him—her.”
“Her? What are you talking about?”
“The Strangler broke into Lennox and injected Clarita with some FY-1978. Then he used it on himself. He looks about like she does, only older. Seventeen or so. That’s why the police can’t find her. I need your help to find her.”
“What am I supposed to do? I’m not a detective.”
“You’re a reporter. You’ve got to have some sources. Maybe some sources in the police department?”
“I work for a shitty newspaper. I’m lucky if my paycheck doesn’t bounce.”
“Do you still have a copy of my old notes? There might be something there that’s helpful. An old accomplice or hideout where she might be staying.”
Maddy says nothing for a minute. “All right, I’ll help you. Only because I want to help Clarita and all those other people. I could give a shit less what happens to you.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’ve got the stuff back home. I can bring it to you tomorrow.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“And when this is all over, I don’t want to see you ever again.”
“Madison—”
She turns to me, her face red. From the way her lip trembles, she’s trying very hard not to cry in front of me. “I want you out of my life completely this time. Promise me that.”
“I can’t promise something like that. I’m your dad—”
“You were never my dad. You were just some guy who showed up once in a while to pick me up from school or soccer.”
As much as I want to dispute that, her description is pretty accurate. I wasn’t really the touchy-feely type of father. I was usually out on a case until after Maddy was in bed. There were months when we saw each other maybe twice. “All right. If that’s what you want, when this is over I’ll pack up and move. I’ve always wanted to see California.”
“Thank you.”
Clarita rushes over to us, her face red, though it’s because she’s out of breath. “Did you see it?” she says. “Did you see how high I swung?”
“We sure did, kiddo,” Maddy says. She tousles Clarita’s hair. “You were great.”
“I think it’s time you go home, though,” I say.
“I wanna stay,” Clarita whines, just like a normal eight-year-old.
“Let her stay a little longer,” Maddy says.
I look down at my watch. “Twenty minutes and then we have to get you back home so you can take a nap.”
“OK.” She surprises me with a kiss on the cheek before she bounds off to the slide. Maddy watches her too, arms folded across her chest. I know what she’s thinking: I’m already more of a father to Clarita than I ever was to my flesh-and-blood daughter.
Chapter 28
The next day Maddy comes over, armed with reams of paper in a cardboard box. I try to take the box from her, but she gives me an elbow in the chest for my politeness. “I don’t need your help,” she snarls. She drops the box onto the table with a thud.
Without another word, she goes to the bedroom to check on Clarita. From what I can tell Clarita hasn’t gotten any older. Since her talk with Maddy, she seems to be enjoying herself more as she does things normal kids do. It helps that she’s not writhing in pain anymore.
As I start to unpack the box, I hear Clarita chatter excitedly about her dolls to convince Maddy to play with her. The door closes before I can hear anything else. That’s fine because at the moment I have work to do.
For hours I go through my interviews with Vollmer’s old classmates, co-workers, and so forth. They all described him as a loner, aloof but not shy. His father died when he was little. It was supposedly an accident, but there was a lot of suspicion that Vollmer’s mother might have taken enough abuse to finally snap. At the time I bought into that theory. Now, when I think of that girl strangling me, I wonder if maybe Vollmer hadn’t made his first kill thirty-five years ago.
There’s not much in those interviews that will be helpful now. Vollmer’s too smart to go back to his old haunts; he knows those are the first places the police will check out. He was never close enough to any of his classmates or co-workers to ask them for shelter either. So that’s pretty much a dead end.
There’s another list that’s more important: his criminal associates. Maddy’s already gone through this list and jotted down notations. All of them are dead, in prison, or in nursing homes by now. I’m about to write it off as a dead end until I see a name at the bottom of the list: Carl Kovacs.
Kovacs is better known in social circles as the Worm because of his talent for being able to slither into tight spots and for snitching on his associates if things get too hot. I met him on more than a few occasions to get information. The last time was in a dark alley by a liquor store, shortly after I became Stacey. The Worm had told me about Artie Luther and his gang’s plan to rob Lennox Pharmaceuticals and I wanted to know who had told him. After I scared the shit out of the Worm, I let him slither away. Turns out he slithered all the way into the state pen—the same state pen where Vollmer was.
My old detective instincts kick in. Vollmer knew who Stacey Chance was. He had known about Lennox Pharmaceuticals. Someone had told him, but Vollmer wasn’t connected enough to have any sources on the outside. But he and the Worm knew each other. It doesn’t take much effort to construct a scenario: someone wanted to shank the Worm for being a snitch, so the Worm asks Vollmer to protect him. He offers what he knows about me in exchange for protection. It might not have been enough to tell Vollmer everything, but he’s a smart guy—gal now—he could put the pieces together with a little research.
That means it’s time for me to pay the Worm another visit. I just hope no one’s finished him off by now. Without Vollmer to protect him, it wouldn’t be hard for someone to line the Worm up and put a homemade knife in him.
I open Clarita’s door to find her and Maddy playing with Barbie dolls. Clarita has a blond one that looks a lot like her now while Maddy has a redheaded one I used to use as my avatar. Clarita has her doll turn around in its pink dress. “What do you think? Will this look pretty enough for my date tonight?”
“It looks great,” Maddy says.
“Hey kids,” I say. “Madison, could you look after Clarita for a few hours? There’s something I need to do.”
“You’re leaving her to go work, what a shock,” Maddy says.
“Where are you going?” Clarita asks.
“Nowhere you’d want to go, sweetheart.”
“Why not? Because I’m little?”
“Because it’s not a place for nice people.”
“You mean it’s a bar?” Maddy says.
“Could we talk about it in the hallway?” I say.
“Why? You think I’m too little to hear it?” Clarita asks and pouts.
“Of course not,” Maddy says. She pats Clarita’s back. “It’s just boring stuff.”
“Is not.”
“How about you find a new outfit for Stacey and when I come back you can show me?”
“OK.”
“That’s my girl,” Maddy says.
We go into the living room to talk about it. I explain the Kovacs connection and my need to get into the state pen to see him. “How are you going to get in there?” she asks. “You can’t just flash a badge like you used to.”
“I’ll think of something.”
“I’m sure.” Maddy looks back towards the bedroom and then at me. “I can get you in there. My newspaper is shit, but it’s still a newspaper. They’ll let me in to talk to him. I can say you’re my assistant. Unless you want to stay with Clarita.”
“I need to go,” I say. “I know how to make him talk.”
“Then what do we do with her?”
“Call Tess. I’m sure she can do it.”
“It’ll take her probably an hour to get here—two with how she drives.” Maddy takes her phone out and presses a few buttons. She holds up a finger to keep me quiet. “Hi, hon. Can you do me a little favor? No it’s nothing like that. I just need you to do a little babysitting. A friend of mine. Her name is Clarita. She’s a very special little girl. Not like that. Jesus. You remember what happened to me a few years ago? Same thing happened to her. No, we’re at her place. My dad brought her here. Can you do it or not? Thanks, hon. Bye.”
“That was Grace?” I ask.
“Who else would it be?” she snaps. “She’ll be here in a few minutes. I just hope she doesn’t get too freaked out when she sees you.”
“It is an adjustment, I suppose.”
“Especially for someone you’ve fucked.”
“Madison—”
“Let’s not talk about it.” She makes another call, this one to rent us a car so we can go up north. This would be a lot easier if we let Jake in on it, but he would never let us go up to the prison. We’ll just have to figure things out on our own.
Once she’s done with the call, Maddy brushes past me to explain things to Clarita.
***
I answer the door when Grace knocks. She stares at me for a moment; her mouth goes slack. Then she summons up the nerve to say, “You must be Madison’s fath
er.”
“That’s right. Steve Fischer.”
We don’t shake hands or anything. I just step aside to let her inside. Grace laughs nervously and then says, “I can see the resemblance. I mean, to how you looked at first.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“I guess this explains why you were looking in the men’s clothes when I found you.”
“Grace—”
“It’s all right. Steve or Stacey, it doesn’t matter. You were right about me and Maddy. I was making a huge mistake. Thanks.” She gives me a hug, though it’s a lot briefer than when I was a girl. Nothing stirs in my loins either. Grace is just my friend, or she used to be. Now we’re just acquaintances.
Maddy and Clarita emerge from the bedroom. Clarita wears the blue dress again, her hair in the same braid as yesterday. She keeps close to Maddy as they enter the living room. Maddy puts an arm around Clarita’s shoulder. “Clarita, this is my friend Grace. She’s a very nice lady who’s going to look after you while I’m gone, OK?”
“OK.”
Grace smiles and like Dr. Nath did, her voice takes on a high, condescending pitch. “Hi Clarita! Don’t you look pretty today?”
“Thanks.”
“We’re going to have a lot of fun together.”
“I guess.”
Maddy gives Clarita a hug. “It’ll be fine, sweetie. And if you’re good, maybe Steve and I will bring you back some ice cream.”
“OK.”
I bend down to look Clarita in the eye. “It’s going to be fine, kid. We’ll be back in a couple of hours. I promise.”
I give her a hug too. Then we leave her and Grace alone so we can lie our way into prison.
***
Maddy has to drive since I don’t have a valid license. I’ll probably have to get some new identification eventually, maybe with another pseudonym. Obviously I can’t go around as Stacey Chance anymore. Not Steve Fischer either since he’s supposed to be dead.
Maddy cranks up the radio so we can’t talk to each other. I had hoped she might have softened a little, but no dice. It’ll take her a while before she forgives me, if she ever does. She keeps the radio up until “Fortunate Son” comes on, and then she turns it off.
Chances Are Omnibus (Gender Swap Fiction) Page 80