“Ghost of Christmas Past.”
“Christmas ain’t for months yet.”
“What happened in that hotel room? How’d you clowns fuck it up?”
“The fuck you talking about?”
I grab him by the collar he can’t button because his neck is too fat. “I know you and Woods. You let Jake go in there first, didn’t you? How far behind were you guys?”
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but—”
I cut him off when I slam his head down on the table. There are a couple of doctors and nurses around, but none of them wants any part of this. They mind their own business. “Which one of you took his badge and gun?”
“What—?”
I slam his head down again. This time I hold him down with one hand while I search him with the other. I find the badge in his pocket. The gun he might have in his car; I don’t need that anyway. “Thanks, asshole.” I slam his head down again. “Lose some fucking weight already.”
Then I’m gone.
Chapter 33
The Knights of the Burning Cross is a bottom-rung white supremacist group that operates out of a decrepit office building on the south side. I don’t bother with subtlety. I kick the metal door open; it only takes me one try to do it. They really should have invested in something better than a deadbolt to keep visitors out. Inside the door is what used to be a secretarial bullpen and some executive offices at the end of the room. There’s a light on in one of the offices.
A little fat man races out. He stops when he sees the gun in my hand. It probably surprises him that I’m white. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
I hold up my badge—Jake’s badge. “I’m shutting you fuckers down,” I say.
“You can’t do that. We’re protected by the First Amendment.”
“Tell it to the ACLU.” Again I dispense with subtlety and punch him in the stomach. He doubles over before he collapses entirely onto the floor. He wheezes while I search the building. No sign of Vollmer. Another dead end. Probably.
I kneel down beside the fat man and take a handful of his hair. “Don’t suppose you’ve had any girls around here recently? Little blond girl. Seventeen or so. Might be calling herself Erica or Erin something.”
“I haven’t seen anyone,” he manages to get out. “I’ll have you put up on charges—”
I hit him in the gut again. “I didn’t think so,” I say. “Someone like that comes around, you go and call the cops. That little bitch is dangerous.”
“Why should I?”
“Because if I find out you’ve been helping her, I’ll put a bullet through your thick skull.”
For emphasis I put my gun to his temple. I’m rewarded when he wets himself. “OK, OK,” he says. “I’ll call. I promise! Put that gun away!”
I give him his wish and holster the weapon. Then I see one of his newsletters on a desk. A headline screams, “Uncle Sam in Bed With the Chinks! Wake Up People!” I don’t have any Chinese DNA left in my body, but I still remember the sting of those insults hurled my way.
I wad the newsletter up. I yank the asshole’s mouth open to stuff the paper inside. “You print any more shit like that and I’m going to drag you to Chinatown and let them deal with you. Got it, dickhead?” For special emphasis I stomp on his right hand, which I figure is the one he jerks off with.
I tromp down to the Fairlane. Another dead end. Over the last four days I’ve hit every known white supremacist group in the city, to play out my hunch Vollmer would ask one of them for help now that we’re on to her. She must not be that desperate yet. There are still plenty of flophouses where she could be. Lots of abandoned buildings too. Plenty of places to hide if you’re desperate and running from the law.
I close my eyes, to rest for a couple of minutes. I’ve slept for about two hours in the last four days. The sad part is I haven’t gotten any closer to Vollmer yet. She’s still one step ahead of me. I haven’t even seen her blond hair trailing behind her as she runs away. We missed our one chance to get her.
Meanwhile, Jake is still in the hospital. He’ll be moved out of intensive care soon since his wound is healing on schedule. That’s about the only good news at the moment.
While I sit there, the phone rings. “What?”
“Steve, it’s me,” Clarita says through sobs.
“Clarita, what’s wrong? Something happen to Jake?”
“No. It’s Madison. She took her.”
“Who did?”
“Vollmer.”
***
I just about burn out the Fairlane’s engine to get back to Clarita’s building. I wish I were in better shape so I could run up the stairs quicker than to take the elevator. Every second I wait in the elevator is another moment of torture.
The door doesn’t show any sign of forced entry. Did Maddy let Vollmer in? Did Clarita? I doubt they would be that stupid. So how the hell did Vollmer get in here?
Clarita isn’t in the living room. The room is dark, the little furniture in the room knocked over. The call from Clarita might have been a trick too. She might have had a gun to her head. Vollmer might have impersonated her voice. Dr. Ling did that four years ago, to make us think Clarita had called us when it was really him.
I stick my head in the bedroom. No one here. The bed is unmade. I feel the sheets; they’re cold, which means Clarita hasn’t slept on them for a while. I’m still looking around the room when the closet door opens. Reflexes kick in, I swing the gun around—
I manage to hold up in time, before I would have shot Clarita. She’s down in a heap on the floor and like the Knights of the Burning Cross asshole I’m sure she wet herself. She’s still shaking as I kneel down beside her. “It’s all right,” I say. “I’m here now. I won’t hurt you.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and hugs me like I’m a stuffed animal. I let her sob for a couple of precious minutes, minutes where I could have found out what happened to Madison. There’s not much I can do, not until Clarita has calmed down.
After ten minutes she’s finally able to talk. I set her down on the bed and let her grab Pinky to hug for comfort. “What happened?” I ask.
“It was her, but it wasn’t her,” Clarita says.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s littler, like me. Her hair is red too. I didn’t recognize her,” Clarita says. “She was so nice in the park. Maddy and I didn’t think there’d be anything wrong in letting her come up for a few minutes.”
“What happened then?”
“Once she got me in here, she pushed me. When Maddy came out, she stabbed Maddy in the leg.”
“And she dragged Madison out of here?”
“Not right away.”
“What do you mean?”
Clarita starts to sob again. “She gave Maddy a shot!”
There’s only one kind of shot Clarita can mean. FY-1978. That might have made Madison small enough for Vollmer to drag out of here, even if she is just ten or eleven now. “Shit,” I say. “Did Vollmer say anything about where she’s going?”
“No.”
“Where’s Grace at?”
“She went out to get groceries and stuff.”
“Did you call her?”
“No. I thought you would know what to do.”
I wish to hell I did know what to do. I’ll have to go out and look for her. I’m not sure where to start. Where the hell would Vollmer take Madison?
I hear the front door open. “Madison? Clarita? I’m home,” Grace calls out. She finds us in Clarita’s bedroom. “What happened here?”
“Vollmer kidnapped Madison. She’s gone.”
“Madison’s gone? How?”
I explain about the knife and the shot of FY-1978. Grace’s eyes widen. “You mean—?”
“Probably. We don’t know how little she is.”
“Where’d she take Maddy?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to find out.”
***
I’m no surer of where to look for V
ollmer than I was a couple of hours ago. There are so many places where she could be and only one of me. I could look for the next fifty-five years and not get any closer.
I go back to the hospital to pick Jake’s brain about it. Along the way I stop for a cup of coffee. The coffee here tastes like used motor oil, but it has caffeine in it, which is what I need at the moment. I get two cups, one to bring up to Tess.
She’s in Jake’s room, in the only chair. She’s been in that chair every minute they’ll let her for the past four days. She has Jake’s hand in hers while he dozes. They’ve taken the tube out of his nose since he’s strong enough to breathe on his own. A week and he’ll get to go home.
“Hello Steven,” she says.
“I brought you something,” I say. I hand the coffee to her.
“That’s very thoughtful,” she says as if I’m still her little granddaughter, not a man older than her.
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing fine,” Jake says. “He’d be better if someone would give him some fucking peace and quiet.”
“Don’t talk like that, Jacob,” Tess says. “Steven was only asking a simple question.”
“Could you give us a couple of minutes?” I ask Tess. “I need to ask him something.”
“Of course.”
I wait until Tess has shuffled off to the waiting room before I sit down in her vacated chair. He finally opens his eyes, but he doesn’t sit up. “You get Vollmer yet?”
“No. I’ve been beating the bushes for four days now.” If I were still Stacey I’d already be in tears. The man code doesn’t allow that, so I keep the sobs to myself. “It gets worse. She broke into Clarita’s apartment. She gave Maddy a shot of FY-1978 and then took her.”
“Jesus,” Jake says. “How the hell did Vollmer get in there?”
“She took another dose too. Maddy and Clarita didn’t recognize her.”
“Shit.”
“I don’t have any idea where she’s going to take Maddy. There are too many fucking places to look and not enough people to do the looking.”
“What about where you busted him last time?” Jake says.
“That’s too predictable. She won’t go there.”
“Maybe that’s how she’s outsmarting you. You ever read ‘The Purloined Letter,’ college girl?”
“No. What’s that?”
“Old detective story by Poe—‘The Raven’ guy. A guy hides this important letter in plain sight. No one thinks to look for it there.”
“You sure he didn’t knock something loose in your brain? When did you start reading books?”
“How do you think I got Tess to marry me?”
“So you think she’s hiding in plain sight?”
“Pretty easy considering no one knows what she looks like.”
“Clarita saw her. Said she’s ten or eleven with red hair now.”
“That’ll narrow it down.”
“Yeah.” Jake and I sigh in unison. “I guess I could go check that place out. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
***
I go two more days with no sleep. There’s no sign of Madison or Vollmer. I check the obvious places like Jake said. Nothing. It’s like the little bitch has disappeared off the face of the Earth. Of course by now she and Maddy could be most anywhere. A couple of fake passports and Vollmer could take her anywhere in the world.
Except two kids can’t fly overseas unescorted, especially not with one of them bound and gagged or drugged out of her mind. A train would be more plausible. Maybe a bus. Just to make sure I go to the bus stations and train stations and ask if anyone’s seen two little girls get on board. Like everything else, I turn up jack.
I return to the hospital to pick Jake’s brain. He’s up in a recovery room now, a floor above the pediatric wing. He’s got a roommate now, some old guy with colon cancer who doesn’t seem long for this world. We have to be more careful with what we say so colon cancer guy doesn’t overhear us.
“Your literary advice wasn’t much help,” I say with my eyes closed to give them a rest.
“I’m sorry, Steve. I wish I could be more useful.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I should have got the bitch when I had the chance.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” I say. “Except for bringing Woods and Jefferson along.”
“They were the only ones available who I could bring in on this even somewhat. Of course I had to be the hero. That’s where it all went off the tracks. I wanted to go in there with my gun high and get her to surrender, just like on TV. Rookie mistake.” From what Jake says, his plan might have worked except Vollmer had a pistol under her pillow. Just a .25, not much stopping power, but effective enough when aimed pretty well. “The little bitch actually took me hostage. She knew Woods and Jefferson wouldn’t have the stomach to let me die. She walked right past them with me as her fucking shield. Then she left me by the stairs and took off.”
And we haven’t seen her since.
My phone rings. I answer it with my eyes closed again, sure it’s Grace or Clarita to check up on me. I hear a little girl’s voice, but it’s not Clarita. “Daddy?” I open my eyes. On the screen I see Madison. She looks just like she did when she was eight or nine, pudgy face with a few scattered freckles, brown hair in a ponytail. Tears run down her chubby cheeks, which isn’t a surprise.
“Madison? Are you all right?”
“I’m little again,” she says.
“I know. I can see you.”
The camera backs up and I see Maddy is tied to a chair. As the camera continues to back up, another face comes into focus. This face looks almost like Clarita’s, except the hair is copper and she has more freckles. “Hi, Fischer. I’ve been waiting for you. Should have known you’d be too stupid to figure out where your daughter is. Or maybe you just don’t care. Like you didn’t care the last time she was this age.”
“Listen you son of a bitch, when I find you—”
“You aren’t going to find me.” When Vollmer smiles, it chills my blood to see the evil behind that otherwise sweet face. “And unless you find me in one hour, darling Madison here is going to die. But don’t worry, I’ll mail you her cute little body, piece-by-piece.”
“Leave Madison alone. I’m the one you want.”
“And I already killed you. Not much point killing you again so soon. So I’m going to make you suffer. First sweet little Maddy. After that, who knows? Maybe your ex-husband, your old lover, your partner, your grandma; there are so many choices.”
“Vollmer—”
“The clock’s ticking, Fischer.”
The connection cuts off. “Shit!”
“That son of a bitch,” Jake says. “It’s not enough to kill random people, now she’s got to make it personal.”
I tune out the rest of what he says while I rewind the video. I watch it again without sound, to focus on what I can see around Madison and Vollmer. I do this three more times, before I finally see it: the chair Maddy sits on. It’s an antique chair, Victorian or Louis Somethingorother. I know where I’ve seen it before: Suzanne Little’s place.
“That bitch. She lied to me!”
“Well of course Vollmer lied—”
“Not Vollmer. Suzanne Little. She said she hadn’t seen Vollmer since sending her packing with some money after the Lennox robbery. She’s been harboring Vollmer the whole time.”
“Then that’s where we need to go,” Jake says and starts to take off the wires from his arms.
“Jake, you can’t go.”
“The hell I can’t. Give me your suit coat. Then we can go get your daughter back.”
Chapter 34
We waste five minutes to get out to the car. Jake wears hospital scrubs beneath my suit coat. Another precious minute ticks by while I help him get into the Fairlane. I could already be on my way if I hadn’t brought him.
As soon as Jake is settled in the car, I pre
ss the accelerator to the floor. I keep my foot down on the accelerator all the way through the city, out to Westdale. To get there I have to drive in turn lanes, go the wrong way on one-way streets, and mount the curb where there’s nothing else available. At least we don’t have to worry any cops will stop us with Jake’s red siren on the dashboard.
Even with my frenzied, erratic driving, it takes twenty-five minutes to get to Westdale. There’s only twenty minutes left to save Madison. If we can even save her. Along the way I’ve managed to do a little bit of thinking, to figure out what Vollmer will do. The good thing is that unlike Artie Luther we don’t have to worry about hired muscle; Vollmer works alone. Except maybe for Suzanne Little. After that little performance the last time, it’ll be good to smack her around a bit.
Although I saw that chair in the living room before, I would be surprised if Vollmer had Maddy in there. Even with the fence and the lawn, someone might spot her up there. Better to keep her completely out of sight, probably down in the basement. It’ll also make it harder to storm down there and get her; Vollmer could just shoot anyone who comes down the stairs.
There’s no point in surprise, I know that much. She’ll be waiting for me. Even if she doesn’t hear the Fairlane’s loud engine, she will hear me coming down the stairs. A frontal assault is the only way. But I have an ace in the hole: Jake. Vollmer figures Jake’s out of the fight and that I’ll come alone. That’s how I did it last time; that’s Steve Fischer’s style.
As we near the gates, I don’t slow down. “Sorry about this,” I tell Jake.
“Just gives me an excuse to spend more time in the garage,” he says as the Fairlane barrels through the front gate of Little’s mansion.
I keep the accelerator pressed down all the way up the front driveway. I could try to run into the front of the house, but against all that old stone from the 1830s the Fairlane wouldn’t do much damage. I skid to a stop in front of the house.
Jake opens the glove compartment to take out the spare gun he keeps there. I snatch it away from him. I take out my .45 and hand it to him. “She’ll be expecting me to have a gun, so I might as well take the peashooter.”
Chances Are Omnibus (Gender Swap Fiction) Page 84