by Richard Cain
“Who? Hitchens? Nastos?”
“No. Them.”
Radix betrayed himself by sounding nervous. “Answer it then call me right away.” Radix’s line clicked dead.
Morrison pressed the phone icon and answered, “Yeah? Morrison.”
“You two take care of the PIs yet?”
“No. We were gonna but it was crowded.”
“What! You don’t remember me telling you that the video goes live on the net if you didn’t do it? You think we’re bluffing?”
Morrison lied quickly. “It was crowded. People knew they had come to meet us. It didn’t feel right.”
It seemed to have worked. “Okay. Tonight, then. I’m arranging a place. We’re gonna be around and make sure the dirty deed is done. When we see the bodies, you get the video, everything. And like I said before, if you don’t trust your friend you might want to consider taking care of him right afterwards. Like the Italians say, three men can keep a secret, as long as two of them are dead.”
“You’re going to be there —?”
The man had hung up.
Morrison stared at the phone. Tonight. One way or the other I don’t have to live like this anymore. No more slavery, no more crimes. It was easy to contemplate the freedom that death would offer. He glanced over his shoulder toward the house, where his mother lay slowly dying on the couch inside. Who would look after her? Terry getting released from jail for compassionate reasons would never happen. At best he’d get a brief escort to their mom’s funeral and he could watch the casket drop in the ground from a Corrections Canada van. His death was not an option. And the person who could best help him wasn’t Radix, it was Nastos. That was who he’d align himself with now.
Morrison scanned through the contacts on his cell to find Nastos.
“Hello?”
“Nastos, it’s me, Morrison.” He could make out the sound of a woman’s voice in the background. She sounded groggy.
“I’m glad you called. I was hoping I could speak with you one on one about what’s going on.”
“Yeah, well, the bikers called and they want to meet up tonight. They say they are going to give us the video and send us on our way.”
“I’m assuming that you haven’t taken any crack today and you know they are going to kill you.”
“Yeah, pretty much. And they want to see you and Carscadden there too. They expect us to kill you first.”
“That’s good. So we’ll give them what they want. Then we arrest them, you and Radix get the credit, we destroy the Walker video and everything is cool.”
Morrison took a moment to envision the bikers spilling their guts to bring down him and Radix. They knew too much. They saw what happened to Walker, they knew about all of the shakedowns, the robberies. Sooner or later it would become testimony and it would backfire. No, the only way to get clean was to make sure the bikers didn’t survive.
“You still there, Morrison?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking.”
“Yeah, well, don’t. Let me and Carscadden look after everything. We’ve got you covered.”
“Okay.”
“So they tell you the where and when?”
“Not yet, they’re gonna call.”
“Okay, keep me up to speed. Carscadden and I are working on something to explain away any story these guys might give to the cops.”
Morrison hung up the phone. Rather than phoning Radix and getting into an argument he sent a text message explaining that they would all meet up tonight. Then he stuffed the phone in his front pocket. It was warmer inside the house. He took some chicken and vegetables from the fridge and started cooking dinner. It might be the last time he saw his mom and he planned to stay by her side until the call came to go.
It became difficult to concentrate. The scenarios rolled around in his head. And as he brought out some hot water to top up his mother’s teapot he knew that ultimately he had to do whatever it took to survive, for her sake. For her sake, he reminded himself. Even if it included killing Nastos and Carscadden, he told himself that he would do whatever it took to survive.
25
Nastos sat in the passenger seat as Carscadden drove to Viktor’s home. Well past the after-work rush hour, the traffic moving to and from the entertainment district was busy. There were people and cars everywhere, everyone trying to get away from the city core as quickly as possible. Carscadden flipped through the talk radio stations to listen to traffic but the reports were the same as they always were at this time so he turned it off. Nastos was enjoying the silence when Carscadden interrupted his thoughts.
“I think you’re searching for the phrase, ‘Hey, Kevin, thanks for picking me up like my personal chauffeur.’”
Nastos answered with a grunt.
“What did you and Karen get up to in her hotel room?”
Here we go. He wants the play by play. “It was the expression on Radix’s face when I asked them if they had anything to do with killing Ann. He was pretty authentic in his reaction.”
“Ann. She’s becoming something of an afterthought, don’t you think?” Carscadden eyed him. “Oh, I get it. You brought it up as some distractionary fodder, thinking I’d be more interested in the dead prostitute than the living journalist. Nice try.”
“She didn’t grow up with the dream of one day becoming a street walker just like the glamorous girls on TV. She’s someone’s little girl.”
“Yeah, well, someone should have protected her, don’t you think?”
Nastos felt like he’d been struck and reacted accordingly. “Yeah? Is that right? So what happened to my Josie two years ago with that child molester? I should have —”
“That’s not what —”
“Been able to stop it? It’s my fault?” Nastos didn’t know if he was more surprised by his reaction or Carscadden’s words that had caused it.
Carscadden retreated. “That’s not what I meant, Steve, you know that. Listen, Ann left the country to get away from her life. She could have called her mom and dad when she landed in trouble, but she didn’t. She was forced to take drugs but never went into treatment until she was in jail. Karen gave her every opportunity to get away but she never took it.”
Nastos was barely listening. “She was a person. She was either killed by Karen by accident — we know it wasn’t that but I had to be sure — or the bikers.”
“You’re right, but I don’t see how it moves us further ahead considering what’s going on now.”
Nastos felt his phone vibrate but ignored it. “So I checked in with Karen, and when I did I checked her arms for the scrapes and asked her about it.”
“Scrapes?” Carscadden mulled it over. “Right. Jacques saw scrapes on her arms.” He changed lanes to get around a city bus but was stopped cold by a line of traffic turning left. “Oh, I get it. So you just had to be one hundred percent sure. It had nothing to do with the fact that she’s someone you’re emotionally connected to, she wants you and she has a hotel room. Makes perfect sense.” Then he added, “If you’re trying to kid yourself.”
Amid the brake lights, rushing crowd and dejected panhandlers, Nastos couldn’t avoid the obvious about Karen. If she was still interested in him after so long, he had to consider that it wasn’t just infatuation. She’s too smart to get infatuated. It’s not like she’s a tween with a crush on Justin Bieber. She’s a journalist and an ex-cop, after all.
“Okay, Nastos.” Carscadden steered around the line of stopped cars as he set up one of his rhetorical lawyer questions. “You don’t even have to answer this one.”
“Just say it.”
“How much do you find yourself thinking about her?”
Nastos turned his body facing the street, his back to Carscadden. Maybe he wasn’t just alone but lonely too. Maybe that was all it was. Despite the failing relationship with his wife, Madeleine, the
y had remained friends and companions and on that level he missed her more deeply that he would have thought.
Going to Karen by himself when she was alone, the way she made him forget about all of the outside noise of society and the expectations that it forced on him — mourn, get on with your life, put Josie first, take time for yourself — all of the competing interests. She had persuaded him to forget about it all. With her it was impossible to feel alone. And my behaviour spoke for itself, didn’t it? In that moment I chose to be with her. And I have to admit, it wasn’t that bad. He considered whether he was ready to start dating but the sound of it still felt offensive. “I’m not used to not knowing what to do. There, you happy? I opened up.”
Carscadden laughed. “Six months and a few thousand dollars’ worth of therapy, it’s kind of about time.”
Carscadden surprised Nastos when he didn’t press him further. Instead he drove to Viktor’s silently. Nastos watched Carscadden key in the entry code that opened the main gate. They parked near the main residence. He was looking forward to seeing Josie. It felt like it had been forever since he had wrapped his arms around her and picked her up.
Carscadden opened the front door and called in. “Hey, it’s us. Anyone home?”
Nastos heard the clinking of cutlery on plates coming from the kitchen, followed by Hopkins saying, “Josie, your Daddy’s here.”
“Dad!” A chair screeched back on the floor followed by two thumps, then she emerged from the doorway. Hopkins had put her hair back in pigtails. She had the kind of full-face smile only a child can have. She charged at him with her arms out.
“Josie!” He embraced her and picked her up, heaving her to his right side. “Ouch. What’s Viktor feeding you, lead bricks?”
The literalist replied, “He made a roast chicken, Dad.”
Viktor emerged at the threshold, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. “Nastos, glad you could drop by.” He pulled loose the string of his chef’s apron and extended a hand to Nastos, who accepted it.
“Viktor, we have to talk when we get a chance here.”
“I think I know what about. Meet me down in the pool room after you spend some time with my little girl.” Viktor smiled at Josie. “Hey, you promised me bedtime stories tonight.”
“I know, Uncle Viktor.” Josie turned back to her dad. “Do you have to go back out to work?”
Nastos was surprised that she anticipated this. “Yeah. Me and Uncle Kevin have to go out and do some more work but I needed to come and see you or I was going to go crazy.”
Josie lunged toward Carscadden over Nastos’ shoulder so strongly he had to struggle to stay on his feet. Carscadden pried her from Nastos. “Here, it’s my turn.” He squeezed as hard as he could until she slapped at his back.
When he put her on the ground she was laughing. “One more time!”
“Are you crazy? I do that any harder I’ll snap you in half.”
“I can take it.”
Hopkins peeked out from the kitchen, stuffing a cupcake in her mouth. “You two hungry?”
Carscadden pointed at her. “Oh look, the human trash can is hard at it.”
“Be nice or you don’t get any.” She walked over and hugged Carscadden. “I’d kiss you but I don’t want to dilute the glory of this cupcake.”
Carscadden kissed her anyways. “There, screw you.”
Hopkins blushed but she glanced at Josie and decided not to reply.
Nastos said, “Okay, we have to talk to Viktor real quick. Josie, finish your dinner and I’ll come say goodbye before we go.”
“Okay, Dad.” She turned back. “Hey, what are we doing tomorrow? Are we coming here again?”
He didn’t want to answer. It was a question he should have anticipated. Would he even be alive tomorrow? As he had discussed with Carscadden on the way over, the will was clear. If anything happened to him, Josie went to Carscadden and Hopkins. After them she would go to Viktor. It only took a moment but he found himself pondering the last time he had changed her diaper, the last time he brushed her teeth, helped her tie her shoes, all things that could have been better appreciated if he had known that they were to be the last times. He gazed into her eyes wondering if this would be the last day she would see him alive. If these would be the last words that would resonate with her for the rest of her life.
“Josie, tomorrow you and I, we are taking the day off. We are going where ever you want to go, and doing anything you want.”
Her jaw dropped. “Anything?”
“Well, not like going to Disneyland but anything you want to do around here. The CN Tower, the Zoo, Imax, Wonderland. You name it.”
“Okay, I want to have another big dinner where Monika plays the piano and everyone is there.”
It wasn’t exactly what he was thinking she would say. “Really? Monika?”
“Dad, she was awesome. I really like her. Can we?”
Nastos shrugged. “Sure, we — I just have to call her first.”
“Call right now.”
“I’ll get her number tomorrow, okay?”
“You’re the best dad.” She turned and joined Hopkins in the kitchen.
Carscadden shrugged and started for the pool room. “You coming?”
“Yeah.” Nastos followed him down the hallway. When he was sure Josie and Hopkins were out of earshot he said, “Kevin, wait up.”
Carscadden stopped.
Nastos asked, “What is it?”
Carscadden used the heels of his hands to dry his eyes. “Nothing. Just you and Josie. Kind of puts it all in perspective.”
“Puts what in perspective?”
“How stupid it is to go on kidding ourselves about what we’re up against here.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” Nastos hated conceding not having all of the answers, even to Carscadden. “What do you think?”
“I think our only chance in hell of getting out of this alive, so you can raise your little girl, is to make sure someone else does not get out of this alive.”
Nastos found himself nodding. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I think too, and that makes it unanimous.”
Nastos led the way down the stairs, past the home gym to the pool room. Viktor had a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label out with three shot glasses. He lifted the bottle. “Should I pour?”
Nastos said, “No thanks, Viktor. I need to keep my wits about me.”
Carscadden said, “I’ll take just one.”
Viktor poured and Carscadden gulped it down. Nastos sat on a barstool and Viktor walked around to the other side. He put Nastos’ glass away and took a sip from his own. “Okay, let’s talk business.”
Nastos began, “We need two more guns, Viktor, and a good amount of ammo.”
Viktor finished off his glass and put a lid on the bottle. “I’m coming with you.”
“If I don’t come back I need you to help Hopkins raise my little girl.”
“If I don’t come with you that is exactly what may have to happen.”
Nastos tried lying. “It’s okay, we have cops coming.”
Viktor took a silver briefcase from the bar and set it on the ground next to him. “Fine. I guess you don’t need any guns then.” He straightened up with an air of reluctant confidence.
Nastos tilted his head up to the ceiling above, finding no answers. “Screw it.”
Viktor picked up the briefcase, spun it around to face Nastos and popped it open. Inside there were four handguns, all Glocks, and a dozen magazines, already loaded. He said, “They’re nine mil. Less recoil than the forties you’re used to. And I have a few other surprises. I just have to swing by the restaurant to pick them up.”
Carscadden asked, “Like what?”
“I have a silencer on a twenty-tw
o calibre rifle. With a good scope I can make head shots. No one will hear a thing. I also have some body armour.”
Nastos took out one of the pistols. He dry-fired and racked the slide a few times to check the action. “So that’s it? You cover the outside and we go in?” Viktor nodded. “And what about bedtime stories for Josie?”
“I’m sure in later years, she might look back and agree that maybe on this night she would prefer I go and keep the monsters away from you rather than her.”
26
Nastos and Carscadden left to get an early start with Morrison and Radix. Nastos helped Carscadden load the truck with the equipment that Viktor had provided, and then they came back into the house.
Nastos found Josie upstairs in a spare room that Viktor had fashioned for her covered in pink pillows and stuffed animals. He must have grabbed a few armloads of her favourite things from the house before bringing her over. Nastos watched her through the open crack of her bedroom door. She was getting ready for bedtime. She had brushed her teeth and hair and was going to spend some time reading. She leaned back on the bed, her feet up on the wall with a stack of books next to her on one side and a forest of assorted stuffed animals on the other side.
Part of him wanted to leave her like that. To have his potentially last memory of her to be of her at peace. But he owed it to her to give her a chance to say goodbye, even if she didn’t know that it could be for the last time. Gently he pushed the door open.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, Dad, do you have time for a story?”
“No, sorry, I don’t. I have to get going. I just wanted to say bye.”
She did an awkward sideways flop to turn around. “Okay, see you tomorrow. Viktor’s going to read me stories.”
“Yeah, and after, Tara’s going to give you a tuck-in tonight.”
At her age, the reaction to such things could range from anything from a shrug to a nuclear meltdown. This time she was in an agreeable mood. “Okay, girl time.”
He smiled. “Exactly, girl time.” He felt a deep sense of melancholy well up inside him but tried to suppress it.