“Uhh, no,” I said. “But then… Well, never mind. What did you find out?”
“There is no such license number in the state of Michigan.”
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what the lady told me.”
I picked up the phone off the bar and called the sheriff’s office again. Bill still wasn’t in. “Damn it,” I said as I put the phone down. “This is driving me crazy.”
“So what are we waiting for?” he said. “Let’s go pay them a visit.”
“I promised Bill I’d let him handle it,” I said. I turned around on the stool and looked at the window. “Hell, I’ll give him until tomorrow morning. If he hasn’t done anything by then, I’ll go over there.”
“I’m with you, partner.”
I looked at Leon. Maybe for the first time, I really looked at him. “Go home,” I finally said. “Get some sleep.”
“Couple hours,” he said. “Then I’m going back. I wonder how many ice rinks there are in Soo Canada?”
It was dark by five o’clock that evening, the daylight slipping away so fast you wondered if it had really happened. By nine o’clock I had called Bill back three more times. The last message I left for him was simple. My promise expires tomorrow morning. Either call me or come to the Brass Anchor Motel to watch me knock on their door.
With the sun down it had gotten even colder. Just stepping outside was an act of bravery. The snow made a sound like breaking glass when I walked on it. I could see a few lights on down the street. Another bar. A restaurant that catered to the snowmobile crowd. Woodsmoke rising from chimneys. Beyond that the motel. I couldn’t see it in the dark, but I knew it was there. I pictured the two men in their room. In their undershirts, maybe. One man sitting by the window. The other man, what? Cleaning his gun? Sleeping? I wished them a good night. Their last night before I came calling on them.
The truck hesitated in the cold. I shouldn’t have left it sitting outside all day without going out to start it. Not when it was this cold. Finally, it started. I pumped the heater on all the way and felt nothing but cold air coming out. Goddamn it all to hell, it is too fucking cold, I thought. It’s bad enough without being tired and sore, and already feeling like I’m a hundred years old.
I drove home. When I got to my road I put the plow down and cleaned up some of the drifts. Vinnie’s car was there. But then he said it hadn’t started that day, right? I dropped him off at the casino. Either he’s still there or he got a ride home. Whatever. I was too tired to think about it.
You did nothing but sit on your ass all day, Alex, and now you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. You are some physical specimen. Okay, so you have broken ribs and stitches over your eye, and it goddamn hurts when it’s so cold, and now you’re just talking to yourself, so go home and go to bed.
The front door to my cabin was actually closed for a change. But I stood outside the cabin anyway and told myself that nobody was inside waiting for me. Nobody has been here at all today. Nobody is watching you. Those guys are way the hell down the road at the motel. And Bruckman and his boys are way the hell over in Canada, with Leon hot on their trail, God help them. You’re feeling spooked because of everything that happened to you, so just forget it and go inside the damned cabin before you freeze to death.
When I finally went in I saw that Vinnie had spent a lot of time there trying to make things right again. There was food in the refrigerator, some new plates stacked on the kitchen counter. He had even put a new mattress on my bed to replace the one that had been slashed. He probably took it from one of the other cabins.
I got a fire going in the woodstove. The air didn’t draw well because it was so cold. I had to fight to get an updraft going but when I finally won that battle the fire burst through the paper and wood and started to give some warmth to the room.
I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror at the ugliest, most beat-up and broken man I had ever seen. There was a swelling over my left eye where the stitches were, green and purple against the white of the bandage. I didn’t even want to look at the bruises on my body. I took the pain pills out of my pocket and read the label. Every four to six hours, as needed.
As needed.
You’ve been down this road before, Alex. If you take them tonight you’ll take them again tomorrow morning and then at noon and then with dinner and then tomorrow night you’ll stand here and count how many are left. And then the pills will own you again.
I put the bottle down on the sink and turned off the light. With my clothes still on I climbed into my bed and lay there listening to the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls. I rolled around for a while, trying to find a position that didn’t make my side ache. I thought about the pills again. It was going to be a long night.
The phone woke me out of a half sleep. I looked at the clock as I got up. It was just after midnight.
“Alex, it’s me,” the voice said.
“Leon? What is it?”
“I found him. I found Bruckman.” In the background I could hear the low growl of a jukebox.
“Where are you?” I said.
“I’m in a little bar on the east side of town. I caught up to them over here at the Straithclair Ice Rink. They were just leaving. I guess they got tossed from a game or something. I followed him to this place. They just started playing pool, so I think they’ll be here for a while. How soon can you get here?”
“Leon, we should call the police.”
“They’re in Canada,” he said. “What are we gonna do, call the Mounties? You think they’re gonna arrest these guys and send them back for us?”
“They’re wanted for assault,” I said. “We should call the sheriff and let him handle this.”
“Like he’s handling the two guys at the motel? Listen to me, Alex. We’ll call the police if you want to, but don’t you want to talk to these guys? Maybe they didn’t take Dorothy, but they’ve got to know something. Don’t you want to get Bruckman against a wall and make him tell you what the hell is going on?”
I stood there shivering for a long moment. On the phone I heard nothing but the distant sound of music and laughter. And then the sharp crack of a cue ball.
“What’s it gonna be, Alex?”
“Give me the address,” I said.
I wrote it down, put my coat and boots back on, and headed out into the night.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I got the truck up to forty as I passed the Brass Anchor Motel. It was as much speed as I could coax out of an old truck on a snow-packed road, with 1,200 pounds of snowplow on the front and another 800 pounds of cinderblocks in the back. I pictured one of the two men sitting by the window, half asleep, maybe a cup of coffee in his hand. I could only hope he spilled it all over himself when he saw me rumbling by.
I made it all the way down the main road to M-28, then east a good ten miles before I saw the headlights behind me in the distance. Nice to see ya, boys. Glad to have you along for the ride.
They kept a steady quarter-mile behind me the whole way into the Soo, up I-75 toward the bridge. I didn’t see them behind me as I paid the toll and crossed the bridge into Canada. Far below me, the St. Marys River lay frozen solid.
As I pulled into Canadian customs, I remembered the gun in the pocket of my coat. “Oh goddamn it all,” I said aloud. I’ve got a carry permit, of course, and somewhere in the glove compartment I think I have my private investigator license. There’s probably some official way for a P.I. to bring a handgun into the country. I’m sure Leon knows how to do it. I could pull over and call him on his cellular phone. If he’s in his car. If I can afford the extra few minutes. There’s probably a form to fill out. Forget it, I’m going through.
The customs agent looked vaguely familiar. I had probably seen him before on a beer run. Why am I coming into Canada this evening? That was an easy one. Canada has strip clubs, Michigan doesn’t. Give him a knowing smile. Do I have any drugs or firearms in the vehicle? I lo
oked him right in the eye and said, “No, sir, I don’t.” He let me go right through.
When I was into Soo Canada, I kept looking in the rearview mirror, waiting to see my two friends. They weren’t there. Now why the hell didn’t they cross the border?
Because they didn’t want to go through customs, Alex. They’re criminals, with five or six guns in the car. And they can’t lie to the customs agent like I can.
I worked my way through town, heading east. Forget about those guys for now, I told myself. You’ve got something else to deal with. I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do when I saw Bruckman again. I felt a combination of fear and anger, and something else I couldn’t even identify. I started to shiver. I turned the heat up a notch, but it didn’t seem to help.
Easy, Alex. Just breathe in and out. You’ve got to go through with this. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t face him now.
I need a plan. Some way to get into that bar and get Bruckman out. Think, Alex, think.
I picked up Trunk Road on the east side of town and followed it all the way out past an industrial area toward the Rankin Indian Reserve. The Canadian Pacific Railroad ran next to the road. At this hour the tracks were empty. As I passed the eastern edge of town, the pine trees took over completely. Like most Canadian cities, the wilderness is never far way. I hadn’t been down this road before, but I knew from the map that it was bending back toward the northern shore of the St. Marys River. I kept going until I was starting to wonder if I had gone too far. Then I saw the side street I was looking for.
The bar was a little place about a block away from the main road, close to the river. There was no sign on the building, no way you’d even know it was a bar except for two beer signs, Budweiser in one window, Molson in the other. The signs seemed to glow in a way that told me I was far from home and probably not welcome there.
I saw Leon’s little red car at the far end of the lot. As soon as I pulled in next to it, Leon opened my passenger’s side door and climbed into the truck. “They’re still here,” he said. He rubbed his hands together and blew on them.
“Don’t you have any gloves?” I said.
“I took them off,” he said. “We need to be ready for anything.” He patted the breast pocket of his coat.
“Remind me to ask you about bringing guns across the border,” I said.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t bring your gun, Alex.”
“I did, but I lied about it I didn’t know if I’d get held up in customs.”
“Good move,” he said. “They would put you through the wringer.”
“How many of his friends does Bruckman have with him?” I said.
“Three.”
“Hmm, there were four guys with him at the cabin. He must have lost one. Probably the guy he was arguing with.”
“I already have our plan mapped out, Alex.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “What plan?”
“There’s four of them and two of us,” he said. “We need to do this just right.”
“I know,” I said. “I figure I need to get Bruckman away from his friends, take him outside.”
“What do you think his friends are gonna do if you try that? And once he’s outside, how are you going to contain him? You’ve got no psychological advantage over him, Alex. He won’t feel threatened.”
“He will if I stick a gun in his face,” I said.
“That’s not going to work,” he said. “You really think you can walk into that bar and pull a gun on him? They’re gonna start breaking cue sticks over your head. Look at this place. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time. I told you, I’ve already got it all set up.”
“Got what set up? Leon, what are you talking about?”
“Alex, we cannot create an overwhelming force here, so we need to need to create the illusion of overwhelming force. It’s the only thing these guys will respond to.”
“The illusion of what? For God’s sake, Leon, where do you get this stuff?”
“It’s all set,” he said. “I just have to go in and give the signal.”
“Leon,” I said, grabbing the steering wheel. “Please. Let me just go in and bring him out here.”
“You want a confined area,” he said. “Like the bathroom. You separate him from the others, take him to the area.”
“Take him to the bathroom.”
“To the confined area. Could be a bathroom. Could be another room. It should be small enough that you’re in close contact with him, but not so small that he’s within three feet of you.”
“Leon…”
“I’ll be at the bar, creating the illusion of overwhelming force. Just stay here for three minutes before you come in.”
“Wait,” I said. “Just wait.”
“If the plan breaks down and we have to fight our way out of there, go for the knees.”
“Hold on, back up to that illusion thing.”
“Don’t start swinging, Alex. I know you. You’re gonna try to start a boxing match with these guys. All you’ll end up doing is busting up your hands. Just keep your head down and go for the inside of the knee. Kick outwards and they’ll fold up like a cheap suit.”
“Leon…”
“A cheap umbrella, I mean.”
“Leon…”
“And don’t pull your gun unless they draw first. The last thing we want is a shoot-out. Okay, you ready?”
“No, I’m not. Just wait a minute.”
“C’mon, Alex. They’re not gonna be in there all night Let’s go do this. Remember, give me three minutes to get things started.” He opened the door. “Three minutes!”
“Leon, wait!”
“I gotta go now,” he said. “While I’m psyched up.”
I tried to grab him, but he closed the door on me and ran through the snow to the bar.
This is a bad dream, I told myself. All of this. I’m gonna wake up and go out and plow the road, and then I’ll go wake up Dorothy in her cabin and help her find a good, safe place to go to. Nobody will have taken her or trashed my place or be following me around or dragging my ass behind a snowmobile. And I won’t be sitting here in front of a dive bar in Soo Canada, waiting three minutes so Leon can go in and create an illusion of overwhelming force. Whatever the hell that is.
I looked at the clock on the dashboard: 1:13. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Two more minutes. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.
When I opened my eyes, the clock read 1:14. One more minute. A gust of wind rocked the truck.
I counted down the last minute, then I gave him one more. Then I got out of the truck. The cold air assaulted me, but it was a short walk to the door, so I was only half numb when I stepped into the place. Like all small buildings, it looked bigger once you were inside. The bar was on the right, a television set high in the corner with a hockey game on. There were Christmas lights still strung around the ceiling. They blinked on and off in the smoky haze. To the left was a pool table and a jukebox. Bruckman was standing there with a cue stick in his hand, watching one of his teammates attempt a shot. His other two teammates stood in front of the jukebox, looking down at the playlist. They had cue sticks, too. Four hockey players with heavy sticks in their hands, at least one of them half out of his mind.
I hesitated. This may not be such a great idea.
Then I saw Leon at the bar. He gave me a little nod. Then he put his glass down and turned around to face the pool table. I counted seven other men at the bar, including the bartender. As soon as Leon turned around, they all fell silent and turned around, as well. Somebody found the remote for the television and turned it off. Then the bartender flipped his magic switch behind the bar to turn off the jukebox. The only sounds left in the room were the impact of the balls on the pool table and Bruckman’s rough laughter at a missed shot. As the balls all rolled to a stop, Bruckman stopped laughing.
“What the fuck,” he said. He looked up to see eight men staring at him. He scanned the faces left t
o right. The last face he saw was mine.
“I got next game,” I said. I walked to the pool table. It was quiet enough to hear the floor squeak under my feet.
“The fuck you doing here?” he said.
“You know, Bruckman,” I said. “Just once I want to hear you say one sentence without the word ‘fuck’ in it.”
Bruckman looked at me and then at his teammates.
“There are eight men in this room,” I said. I wish Leon had explained his plan a little better, I said to myself. I hope this is what he had in mind… “Every single one of them has a gun. I’d love to see you try something stupid right now.”
He looked at his teammates again, and then at the men at the bar. I could practically hear the wheels spinning in his head. “So like… what?” he finally said.
“So like I want to ask you a few questions,” I said. “That’s all. If you play along, I won’t shoot you.”
“Like you really would,” he said.
“In the bathroom,” I said. “Unless you want me to kill you right here.”
“What?” His eyes were shining with fear, or chemicals, or maybe both.
“You heard me,” I said. “Go into the bathroom. While we’re in there, all three of your friends are going to just stand here and look stupid. Is that clear?”
He swallowed hard.
“Move,” I said.
He looked around the room again, like he was waiting for somebody else to do something. It didn’t happen, so he finally leaned the cue stick against the table and moved toward the bathroom. I followed. As we passed the biggest of his teammates, I looked up just long enough to give him a little smile. “Good to see you again,” I said.
When we were in the bathroom, I shut the door behind us. There was one stall, one urinal, and one sink. Whoever’s job it was to keep the room clean was clearly not an overachiever. I opened the stall door. “Have a seat,” I said. I pulled the service revolver out of my coat.
“I’m keeping my pants on,” he said.
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