$200 and a Cadillac

by Fingers Murphy

  He smiled at Jimmy. “You radio me as soon as Kramer calls. I’ll stay by the radio and keep an eye on the guy until I hear from you.”

  Jimmy nodded, sat back on the stool, and picked up his novel. There was nothing more to say. Jimmy reclined against the wall with his feet up on the counter and went back to his cowboys and Indians.

  Mickey went out and stood beside the Suburban, letting the heat soak into him. The temperature had climbed from the cool night air to up over a hundred. He took a few deep breaths into his lungs and felt the heat inside him. There was something unnatural about the air outside the body being hotter than the blood inside the body.

  Mickey stopped at the café for lunch. If an arrest did come, it could be a long evening and he would be glad he’d eaten. He sat at the counter and felt the weight of the gun on his hip. With a bullet in the chamber, it seemed heavier than normal, sagging from his side and tugging his consciousness with it. Tugging it down toward some lower darkness he knew all too well, but preferred to avoid as long as possible.

  He chewed his club sandwich and ate his fries, shaking off the dread that was coming over him. He knew the dread, knew its dark, familiar intimacy. He’d felt it many times before. It had been with him since Vietnam, lurking in the background, reminding him that terrible things were always just around the corner. When he was done, he paid and went outside and drove out of town, toward the refinery and whatever it was that awaited him.

  XXXI

  Hank was doing ninety. There was no time to waste. He smiled as he drove. “An accountant? That’s what he told you?” He shook his head and tried to imagine such a thing. Ridiculous.

  Janie sat in the passenger’s seat on autopilot. What had begun as loose talk with a former boyfriend had turned into a nightmare with one person dead and her own brother at risk. It had only taken fifteen minutes of frantic revelations in Ron’s living room for her to beg Hank to protect Eddie from whatever might happen.

  When she described the payoff that was about to be made at Eli’s father’s old warehouse, she could see it in his eyes before he said anything. Ron might kill them. “That’s the kind of guy he is,” Hank had said, so casually it made her skin crawl. “Who do you think killed that kid out in the desert? This is a guy who used to kill people for a living, he won’t think twice about it.”

  She didn’t need much convincing. It wasn’t just Hank’s presence in Ron’s house, waiting behind the door with a gun. Somehow, when Hank started to explain things everything seemed to fall into place. Suddenly, Ron’s entire existence in Nickelback, and even his personality itself, made perfect sense in a way it never could have before.

  So she gave Hank a hasty explanation of what was going on and said she had to stop Eddie from going to the warehouse. Hank sat on Ron’s couch, leaned back against the living room wall, and thought it through. “How much money?” he asked, and then winced a little when she told him fifty thousand dollars. Finally, he shook his head and waved toward the door with his gun. “All right, let’s go.”

  Now Janie watched the sagebrush at the side of the road go by in a blur. Everything was a blur. She checked her watch. Two-thirty. Plenty of time to beat Ron, but she didn’t know about Eli or Eddie. Hank was insistent that no one know he was there. He needed to surprise Ron and he couldn’t trust the two kids to play it cool.

  Over the roar of the road noise, Janie turned to him and spoke, for no particular reason. “Ron and I only dated for a year, but we haven’t gone out for more than six months. He wasn’t really my kind of guy, but at least he wasn’t your typical desert rat.” She spoke directly to Hank, as though she needed to convince him of something. “You take what you can get in a town like this.”

  Hank was sure that was true. It didn’t bother him any. He listened to the tone of her voice, half pleading, half defiant, and was surprised that she cared so much about convincing him. He glanced over and smiled at her, prompting her to go on.

  “Ron, or I guess Howard. God, it’s so weird to think he’s got some other name. Especially Howard. I’ve never met anyone named Howard.”

  “Howie,” Hank corrected.

  Then she seemed to realize something for the first time. “So I suppose your name isn’t really Hank, is it?”

  Hank grinned at her and then turned back to watch the road. The car floated along on its worn out shocks. He was going almost a hundred now. No governor on this baby. His eyes flickered up at the rearview mirror and saw the police Suburban barreling down on them from behind. Hank took his foot off the gas and let the car start coasting. He didn’t want the brake lights to tip the sheriff off. They couldn’t afford any delays now.

  “Well, I guess you don’t have to tell me your real name,” Janie went on. “But I never thought you looked like a Hank anyway. You look Italian. Probably named something like Vinnie or Paulie or something. Something out of the Godfather.”

  Hank smiled. “Vinnie was my brother.” Then he turned to her. “But I’m Hank.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, sure you are.” Then her voice went serious. “Maybe if we survive this, you can tell me your real name.”

  “What are you talking about? If we survive this? Everything’s going to be fine. Lugano has no idea anyone’s on to him. There’s nothing to worry about.” It was a lie, but Hank sold it to her well. There was plenty to worry about and he was running through it in his mind.

  What should have been a clean, simple hit in the back of the head in Lugano’s living room had turned into something far more complicated, all because Janie decided to swing by Ron’s place and wait for him to come back from his rendezvous so she could collect her share of the money. When he asked her what she was doing there she responded like she hadn’t really given it much thought. “I grew up here,” she said. “After Ron and I started dating, I kind of started thinking of it as my own house again. So I came by early.”

  And because of that, now Hank was going to have to deal with a strange location, other people and a situation where Lugano was likely to be on alert. Hank had considered staying at the house and waiting for Lugano even after Janie showed up. What did he care about Janie’s brother? He needed to get his work done and get away from Nickelback as soon as he could. But now Janie knew, and she wasn’t going to wait around. She could tell Lugano—although he doubted she would—more likely though, she’d just fuck everything up and Lugano would catch on. With fifty grand in cash, a guy like Lugano could disappear and make himself very hard to find. So now it was out to some warehouse in the middle of this godforsaken desert. Hank couldn’t wait to get this over with and get back to the city.

  The Suburban came up behind them, changed lanes, and blew past them like they were standing still. Hank watched it pull away from them and guessed it was going one-twenty, maybe even faster. “Where the hell is he going in such a hurry?”

  “The only thing down this road is Monarch.” Janie watched the back of the Suburban grow smaller as it sped into the distance. The sight of the police sent a nervous ripple through her stomach and she stared back out at the desert. “God,” she said, “I just can’t believe this.”

  “How did this happen?” Hank glanced over at her. “How did you and your brother end up getting involved in this?” She had given him the basics—which he accepted, after all, he was used to people being involved in criminal enterprises and there were very few things that surprised him anymore—but she never really explained how the ball got rolling.

  “I don’t know,” she began. Then she said, “I guess I was just looking for a way out. I wanted to make some money and there didn’t seem to be any risk.” She turned to him and spoke with the pleading quality in her voice again. “I wasn’t really doing anything. I just helped think it up and put everyone in touch.”

  Janie told him to slow down, that the turn was coming up. Hank slowed the car to a stop and took a right onto a gravel road that went straight out into the desert, rolling with the terrain, until it dropped out of sight in the distance. Han
k drove in silence, waiting for her to continue.

  But when she didn’t, he asked, “But didn’t you think Lugano seemed a little too—I don’t know—a little too much like a criminal? A little too experienced for someone claiming to be an innocent accountant?”

  “I didn’t really think about it. It all seemed like a joke, at first,” she went on. “Then I could see he was serious. He said he had money to get something started. I had this idea. So it all started to sound pretty good. Ron knew how much oil was going into the line and figured that they would be taking so little that no one would ever notice. So far that’s been the case, but they’ve only made their first couple runs in the last week.”

  “So Lugano just pretended to be a guy looking to invest in something? You were the one who thought up the scam?”

  “Yeah. He said he had money to get it off the ground. He needed me to help him find the property, and he needed a couple of other guys to actually run the operation. That’s where my brother and Eli came in.”

  She shook her head slightly and stared out the window. Then she said, “It all seemed like a little game. Nothing serious. Like Ron always said, he and I would never get in trouble because from the outside it would seem like Eli and Eddie were doing everything.”

  “But what about your brother? Why get him involved in something like this?”

  “They were eager to do it. They’d been laid off and didn’t think twice about getting a little revenge. And, they don’t know I’m involved. Ron’s never told them how he happened to find them and how he happened to think up the plan about drilling into the pipeline. I just put everyone in touch.” She shook her head again.

  “Obviously, I regret it now.” And then she spoke more forcefully. “But it was never supposed to be like this. It was always supposed to be a little thing for some quick money. I figured it would give Eddie and me what we needed to get the hell out of town. You know, do it for a few months and then split. How the hell was I to know Ron was a psychopath?”

  It was a legitimate question, and Hank had no answer. They drove on in silence for a few minutes, and then the car came over a rise and at the bottom of the hill sat the cinderblock warehouse surrounded by its piles of rusted junk and ancient equipment.

  Hank slowed the car, taking it in. Beyond the gravel parking area in front of the open mouth of the building, the brush was high and thick in every direction. It would be easy to hide, but deciding where to lay in wait would be the question.

  They parked in front of the warehouse and got out. Janie pointed off through the brush where the sage was lower and thinner than the rest. “That’s where the pipeline comes through,” she said.

  Hank nodded, but was more interested in the building. He looked back up the hill to where the road disappeared over the near horizon. He imagined how they would approach, returning with their trucks. Where they would park. Where Ron would likely leave his truck when he arrived.

  Janie explained the operation to him. She had not been out to the warehouse since it all started, but she’d been there before, over the years. “We came out here now and then when we were in high school and had parties. You know, built a fire, got drunk and passed out on the ground.”

  She explained what the pieces of equipment were. She speculated that the first person back would put their truck in the warehouse and start filling it again. Hank went around the side of the building and found a spot where part of the cinder block had crumbled away. It would be a good place to wait and watch. He could see the inside of the warehouse and most of the lot out front. The biggest problem was the distance he would have to cover to get around the side of the building to where the action was. It was a risk he would have to take.

  They stood around next to the car for a few more minutes. Finally, Janie asked, “So what do you think?”

  Hank shook his head. “I don’t like it, but there’s not much I can do about that.” He reached into the back seat of the Camaro where he had placed his bag that morning after checking out of his room. He pulled his gun from the bottom of it and inspected it. Deadly at close range. Accurate at twenty to fifty feet. Beyond that, even a good shot had the potential to miss. Add to that moving bodies, moving cars, other obstacles, unfamiliar terrain, and other people with guns, and anything could happen.

  Janie said, “Try to keep Eddie safe.” Her voice had that pleading quality again.

  Hank looked at her. His own mission was clear, and he couldn’t afford to have it compromised with other, collateral concerns. More than once it had crossed his mind that he might have to kill everyone at the warehouse to ensure the story stayed buried. His eyes met hers and he said, “The only sure way to be safe, is to not be here at all.” He looked past her, into the brush, and added, “When people start shooting, in the heat of the moment, there’s no time to think. Anything can happen.”

  He hoped that would end it. He couldn’t make her promises, about anything, and her eyes told him she understood. She nodded and checked her watch. “Well,” she said, “it’s getting late. I better get out of here before someone shows up.”

  Hank didn’t speak. He just watched her get in the car and drive off. A look of fear and anxiety came over her face as she looked at him through the windshield. It was the look of someone who suddenly realized everything in her life could go wrong.

  When the Camaro disappeared over the hill, Hank looked around and questioned his motives for coming. He knew he didn’t have to do anything at all. He could simply sit and watch what happened. They would give Ron the money, maybe he would threaten them, maybe he wouldn’t. Hank doubted he would kill one of them. He needed them to keep the operation running. But with the body getting found in the desert, maybe it was time to shut it down. Maybe Ron would kill them, take the fifty grand, and be happy to have it over. There was no way to know.

  But the problem was that it was Friday. If the payoff was made, Hank had no ability to guess where Lugano might be. He might not come home at all. Maybe he’d take the cash and go to Vegas or LA and live it up for a few days. Anything was possible. That would leave Hank sitting in Nickelback through the weekend, trying to figure out where Lugano was and trying not to draw attention to himself. He needed to finish the job. He needed it to be over. At least he knew for certain where Lugano was going to be just after four o’clock. That meant he couldn’t sit back and watch. He would have to finish it then.

  He went around the side of the warehouse to wait. He dragged an empty barrel over to the wall and sat on it, looking through the hole at the interior of the building and the parking lot out front. He waited, brushing the dust from his gun. He’d only been there a few minutes and he was already filthy.

  Janie drove the car back out to the main road, thinking about what Hank had said. There was no telling what might happen. The only way to be safe was to not be there at all. She sat at the crossroad for a few minutes, thinking it through. Then she turned the car and started heading into town.

  She’d barely gone a hundred yards when she saw an old oil truck coming toward her. She slowed as it approached, staring up at it. She could see Eli’s bushy hair blowing in the wind from the open window as it came near and then went past her. She felt a relief come through her. She’d managed to get away from the warehouse in the nick of time.

  And then the obvious occurred to her. The easiest way to stop Eddie from getting hurt was to stop him from being there. The easiest way to do that would be to simply sit and wait. She pulled the Camaro over on the opposite side of the road and waited.

  Eddie would come along soon and she would flag him down, stop him from going on. One way or another, the whole operation would be over by the end of the day and it would be time for the two of them to leave Nickelback for good.

  But as she sat, she thought about Hank. How confident he seemed that everything would be fine. Despite what he’d come there to do, she found him to be completely normal, interesting. Even fun. It surprised her that she wasn’t bothered in the least by what he
did for a living. She supposed people had it coming, that perhaps everyone had it coming in one way or another. What did that say about her? She asked, but couldn’t begin to answer.

  XXXII

  Mickey hardly noticed the Camaro as he blew past it on his way to Monarch. He recognized the car as Justin Banner’s. But where was it going? Why? None of these questions occurred to him at the time because he was focused on getting to Monarch and watching Ron Grimaldi.

  At a hundred ten miles per hour, the desert adjacent to the road blurred together in a wash of browns and deep, dry greens. It was still early. There was no need to rush. Ron would be at work for at least another hour. But Mickey couldn’t help himself. The call could come over the radio any second, and when it did, he wanted to be ready to act if action was required.

  But that was the big question. Would Dr. Kramer find anything? Would the radio call come? Mickey felt certain he was right, but knew it was all based on a hunch. Why would a killer put the murder weapon back in his car and drive around with it? Why would a guy who appeared to be completely normal do something like that? There was no real reason to suspect Ron Grimaldi of anything. The entire suspicion was based on a mistaken 911 call. He would have to wait for Dr. Kramer to find something. He would have to wait for Jimmy to call him on the radio. And until then, he would have to bite his tongue and do nothing.

  Mickey thought it through for the hundredth time since he’d awoken and felt his certainty give way to doubt. He watched the Monarch facility loom up out of the desert like an apparition. Its giant white tank; its acres of parking lot, most of it unused these days; its tangle of massive pipes and fittings and stacks and towers stark against the blue sky like a gnarled, post-industrial sculpture marking the fall of a doomed society.

  “Here he comes again.” Tom pointed at the Suburban coming up the road from town.