The Complete Matt Jacob Series

by Klein, Zachary;

  I got stuck in traffic on my way to Emil’s. Just as well—I needed time to find my mantra. The dirty little fucker had hired, then tumbled me to Lonny, looking for points. An idea well within the confines of his cunning sleaze.

  The traffic broke before my anger. I wasn’t a vegetarian, but didn’t want to kill the bastard either. Wisely, I decided to speak with Jonathan before my house call to Blackhead. Doing time for hurting Emil was a sobering thought.

  An unconscious choice of roads carried me past Boots’ apartment building. I glanced up the tall glass face knowing I could see nothing; her apartment was in the back. The end of my work, the beginning of my personal life. “Sixteen tons and what do you get?” I hummed.

  The light snow was turning to water the instant it hit the ground, making the road glisten with a metallic sheen under the streetlights. I slowed down as I passed the storefront. I didn’t see anyone inside, but thought I saw something move between two parked cars. Probably a cat but it still raised the hair on the back of my neck.

  I found a parking space on Barrie’s block and sat rethinking my decision to visit. I’d only promised to inform him if I found something wrong. I pushed my cigarette into the ashtray, spilling ashes and butts onto the floor. I cleaned up as best I could. But it wasn’t until I cursed myself for promising him anything that I opened the door, and was hit immediately with the sloppy wet.

  When Jonathan opened the door his eyes seemed unfocused, ripe with shock and sorrow. “Hello, Jacob, come in.” He barely looked at me as he ushered us to his kitchen. Like his secret room, the kitchen had a comfortable lived-in feeling.

  “Would you care for something to drink? I’m having tea but you’re welcome to beer.” “Tea is fine. American, straight up.”

  He smiled as he poured from a pot. “American, straight up, coming up.”

  I thanked him and waited until he sat down, looking at the bags under his eyes and imagining they’d be sagging further by the end of my stay. “Jonathan, I finished my work and I’ve found nothing suspicious about Darryl’s death.”

  I took a deep breath and continued, “He dealt drugs. Coke. But his boss is satisfied it was an accident. Frankly, I believe his boss. I’m sorry, Jonathan, but that’s all there is.” I heard the flustered rush of my words and bit my lip. There was no reason to tell Barrie that Darryl’s desire to move in was drug cover.

  Jonathan didn’t look like he was hit in the belly. “I’m not terribly surprised. I went to Darryl’s funeral; the incurable old romantic is on hold. I appreciate your stopping by. You didn’t have to.”

  “It was lousy, huh?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “Lousy doesn’t come close. Turns out my soon-to-be partner had been in Vietnam. That made him about ten years older than he claimed.” His hand hovered over the black Formica table. “That wasn’t the worst of it. His father saw fit to bury him in full battle regalia.” He looked at me. “Don’t say it. Obviously there was plenty about Darryl I didn’t know, but I don’t think he was a closet hawk.” He paused, and in a more somber tone added, “And I still don’t think he was suicidal, either.”

  He stood and retrieved the teapot from the stove, freshened both cups, then sat back down. “But seeing Darryl in a military uniform chopped through my fantasies. I can accept that his death was an accident. But it’s hard to let go of the similarity to Peter’s.”

  “The quarry makes it tough?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not just the quarry. It’s me too.” “I don’t think anyone who knows you thinks less of you.”

  “I’m not talking about what anyone else thinks.” He looked directly into my eyes. “And I’m not talking about homosexuality. Not even my attraction to younger men. Christ, if my relationships were hetero I’d be a hero.”

  He rubbed his eyes. “I need glasses. I look right through people I love and see only what I want.” His tone filled with disgust, laced with more than a little bitterness. “It was true with Peter, obviously true with Darryl.”

  “Peter?”

  “Yes, Peter. After he died I discovered he’d been a thief as well as a hustler. I thought him frail”—his voice had softened—”like a poet.”

  I felt sorry for him. Whatever his flaws he deserved better. I thought of Megan and her manipulative phoniness. We all deserved better. “Maybe that was the side of him you brought out.”

  “Right.” He frowned and his voice turned sarcastic. “Darryl too.” “You’re not the only fool for love.”

  He shrugged wearily and sighed. “It depresses me to watch how this affects Melanie. My history with Peter makes it difficult to be much help. That just makes everything worse.”

  “Help with what?”

  “Her moods. They’re pretty hard to miss.”

  “So she’s lost her temper a few times,” I protested. “Melanie’s volatility is a strong throwback to Peter’s death.”

  I listened as he peeled away the years. “After he died, she was like a cornered animal. Trusted no one, refused everyone’s concern or care. Once the shock settled, it almost got worse. She seemed unable to make contact. Now I’m afraid that’s happening all over again.”

  My head filled with a different picture, a picture of Melanie last night. “Jonathan, you’re dumping shit on yourself. She hasn’t been removed with me.”

  “Really?” He wanted to believe. “I wouldn’t lie to protect you.”

  His smile challenged the lines on his face. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” “You don’t have to guess.”

  He heard what I said, but his smile folded back into the worry. “You do care about her, don’t you?”

  The ambivalences about my attraction to Mel floated to the surface, but all I murmured was, “I care about her.”

  He peered at me. “There are a couple of things I’d like to ask…”

  I raised my hand. “Don’t.” I tried to jibe his version of Melanie with my own, but all I said aloud was, “I’ll keep your concern in mind, Jonathan. I do care about her.” I grinned. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been grilled by a girl’s father.”

  He appreciated my acknowledgment. “Thank you, Matt. She’s about all I have left.”

  I saw an opening. “No, man, she isn’t all you have left. Since I’ve come back here, the one thing I’ve heard over and over is nobody gives a shit about people in The End. You’re the someone who does give a shit. I don’t think this neighborhood can afford you giving up on yourself.”

  A trace of cynicism crept into his tired eyes. “Is there some of your own guilt buried in that? Some question about why you ever left The End?”

  I flashed on being led out of The End on Megan’s leash. “I left here for the wrong reasons, but I left twenty years ago. I have plenty of regrets, but The End isn’t my home. It’s yours.”

  He smiled ruefully. “It’s hard to feel at home anywhere now. I look at my affairs and see dead bodies of people I loved but never knew. I see my daughter bending under the weight of my mistakes. Right now, it’s difficult to see much else.”

  I stood up. “Give it a little time, Jonathan. The only person who can crumble under the weight of your life is you.”

  He pulled himself to his feet. “You’re a kind man, Matthew. I understand Melanie’s attraction.”

  I shrugged and thanked him for the tea. Although the conversation was finished, I was reluctant to leave. I didn’t expect to come back here or even see him again. When I left The End twenty years ago I couldn’t wait to get out. I had imagined my leaving was the beginning of a glorious life and marriage. This time there were no dreams. This time I was making up for missed goodbyes.

  We stood awkwardly in the kitchen, each waiting for the other to move. Finally I stuck out my hand. “I wish I could have told you something you wanted to hear,” I said.

  “You have,” he said, and led us down the hall. Before he opened the door he looked at me. “I have one last favor to ask.”

  “What is it?”

  “Wha
tever your relationship with Melanie is, or will be, I hope you say nothing to her about my attachment to Peter. I’ll tell her someday, but not now.” He showed a resigned but honest grimace. “I want it to come from me.”

  “Don’t worry, Jonathan. I’m not about to interfere. Especially about something I don’t understand.”

  “Thank you, Matthew. I hope we get a chance to meet again.”

  Barrie’s house loomed large and empty behind us. I opened the door and felt a blast of cold air. “Me too, Jonathan. Me too.”

  While I believed Jonathan’s concern about Mel had more to do with him than with her, it disturbed me. I didn’t want to add to her load. I put out a cigarette and tried to shake my apprehension. Worrying about Melanie came naturally to Jonathan. But Jonathan had an investment in his worry. Caring about others was how he salved his own hurt.

  I looked in my side mirror before pulling out into the street. Splotches of water streaked the glass, but again I thought I saw something move behind a parked car. This time I didn’t give my hair a chance to rise. I jammed the car into reverse and slammed my foot on the accelerator. The tires spun uselessly, caught, then shot me back to where I’d seen movement. I threw the engine into neutral and jumped out.

  Therin was crouched between two parked cars. He tried to squeeze away; but before he got more than a couple of feet I had him.

  He started to slap at my hand but went limp when he realized he wasn’t going to break my hold.

  “Hey man, let go,” he complained weakly.

  “In a minute.” I released his shoulder but, before he could run, I grabbed the front of his light nylon windbreaker. “You’re coming with me.”

  I pulled him back to my car and shoved him inside. He sat dripping and shivering in the corner of the seat. I pulled a rag from the glove compartment and handed it to him.

  He wiped his face and hair, keeping me in view all the while. I turned the heater up to high, pulling back into my parking spot. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.

  “I’m not doing nothin’,” he replied sullenly.

  I thought of the times the skin on the back of my neck had twitched. “Don’t give me that shit. You’ve been following me on and off for the last couple weeks. Either tell me what’s going on or I’ll force it out of you.”

  “You’re a good bully, aren’t you?” He didn’t meet my eyes. “Sometimes.” I waited, looking pointedly at his averted face. “Well, you might as well beat me up.”

  “Therin,” I said quietly, “I don’t want to beat you up. You’re not a very likable guy but I don’t want to punish you for that. You’ve had a mad on at me since we met. What’s your problem, kid?”

  He shot me a venomous look. “My problem? I don’t have a problem. Melanie has the problem, and it’s you!”

  He paused. I watched his face twist and I waited for him to spill. “You fucking prick,” he said, “ever since you showed up, everything has been different!”

  Belchar’s parting song tinkled in my ears. “She’s a little old for you,” I said gently. “You were going to find it out sooner or later.”

  “Don’t patronize me. I know how old she is.”

  I felt tired. “Therin, you’re not the first guy to fall in love with a hopeless situation.”

  His body uncurled as he attacked me. “Fuck you,” he shouted, as his hands flailed at my face. “I’m not talking about you ruining things between us. I’m talking about what you do to her!”

  I grabbed him to keep from getting smacked. I jammed both his wrists into one of my hands and held tight until he stopped squirming. “Therin, stop. What do you think I’m doing to Melanie?”

  “You’re a bastard. Since you showed up in The End she’s been doing shitty.”

  Reverberations of Jonathan. I should have stopped while I was behind. “What do you mean?” “You’re tight with her, ask her yourself.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Look, I’ve had a hard day. If you’re gonna accuse me of driving someone nuts, you gotta do details.”

  He hurled his words as if they were rocks: “Is drugs detail enough? What about hour after hour moping alone in her apartment? Is that detail enough for you?”

  A dark look contorted his face. His body shook with rage. “Maybe where you live your kind of people can do dope because they have the money. Here, everyone winds up like those guys behind the storefront. I can’t stand seeing her mess with that shit.” He looked me full in the face. “You brought ghosts back here with you and they’re making her sick.”

  There was no mistaking Therin’s sincerity. “Therin, Melanie’s upset about Darryl’s death and how it affects Jonathan. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  He stopped shaking but there was no acquiescence in his voice. “Like hell! She never even liked Darryl. Anyhow, all this started with you.”

  “Look, you may not be entirely wrong about the ghosts. I remind Melanie of some painful history and I’m sure that’s been disturbing but…”

  “I don’t care what the reason is.”

  We were chasing our tails. You don’t blow away someone’s Hollywood fantasies and expect them to respond to logic. “Okay, you don’t care about reasons, but I do. Why are you following me?”

  A secretive look crossed his eyes. “Because I don’t like you, and I want to keep you in front of me.” He lowered his voice with a hint of pride. “And because I can.”

  Sometimes any small success in the face of dashed hopes is important. “You dislike a lot of people, Therin. Do you follow all of them?”

  “I’d follow anyone who was driving M mad.” He clamped his lips and stared stonily out the fogged windshield.

  I flipped on the defroster. “You think I’m turning Melanie into a drug addict?” “I know that since you started coming around she’s been using that shit.” “You never saw her use drugs before?” I caught a whiff of my own curiosity. “Melanie never did things like that. Never!”

  The kid was getting to me; I felt guilty. He went back to staring out the window. Then anger seeped into my guilt, providing welcome relief. “I’d like to spank you for being in my business, Therin, but I like your loyalty to Mel, as moonstruck stupid as it is. I don’t expect to be around The End much longer…”

  A look of triumph flashed across his face.

  “Don’t get carried away.” I bit off my words. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to see Melanie, just that my work is finished.” I stared at him with a look of warning. “If you want to play Geronimo when I’m in The End, go ahead. But if I catch you following me anywhere else, you won’t get away with a talking.

  “Now split.” I leaned across his cringing body and unlocked his door. He didn’t wait for me to change my mind. I watched as he bolted down the sidewalk. I closed the door, and lit a cigarette. What I really wanted was dope.

  I pushed the car into gear, then stopped short. The picture of Melanie, alone with her unpacked cartons, slapped inside my head. I was torn between returning to Jonathan for more information, or beating the crap out of Blackhead for dragging me into this quicksand. I punched the car back into gear and pulled away: I couldn’t stand the thought of more talk.

  I drove around waiting for my feelings to settle. Whatever heartache my presence created for Melanie wasn’t going to be soothed with guilty concern. At the moment, I wasn’t even clear what my concerns really were.

  I aimed the car toward Emil’s apartment. If I couldn’t deal with Melanie, I could at least finish up the case. Still, the bare white walls of her apartment evoked a shadow that wouldn’t quit.

  I passed a public telephone, had an idea, and jerked the car to another stop. I was standing in the half-booth before I realized the sleeting snow had turned into a cold, driving rain. I was having second thoughts. At the other end the phone began to ring, and she answered before I could change my mind.

  Her tone was flat and expressionless. “Who is it?” “It’s Matt.”

  Her voice dropped an
octave and she semi-whispered, “Miss me already, love?” For one rain-soaked moment I distrusted her seductiveness.

  “What’s the matter Matt, tongue-tied?”

  “I guess.” Her throaty chuckle made me feel sheepish: I felt pushed off my mark by a love-struck adolescent and a social worker who needed someone to worry about. “I was calling to see how you were doing.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be fine?”

  “No reason, really. I just wanted to check.”

  “It was a good night, wasn’t it?” she asked wistfully.

  “Yes, it was.” Another question popped out of my mouth before I could think. “Listen, Mel, where did you get the coke?”

  There was another delay, then, “I have some left if you want any?”

  An easy out, an exciting invitation. “No thanks. I just want to know where you got it.”

  “This has to do with your job, doesn’t it? For someone finished you continue to ask a lot of questions.” She didn’t sound surprised, or even upset.

  “I suppose.”

  There was yet another wait before I broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Mel. This is the last strand of a loose end. When I’m done with it, I’m done with it all.”

  “Done with me too?” There was a somber note inside the tease. “No, Mel, I’m not done with you.”

  She hesitated, then spoke with a catch in her voice. “Your client Blackhead,” she said, her voice conspiratorial. “I bought the cocaine from Emil.”

  I grunted my shock and stood silent until I couldn’t take the outdoors. “Good old Blackhead, huh? Listen, I’m getting drenched. I’ll call you, okay?”

  “Would you like to come here to dry off?”

  “Not now. I’ve something left to do. I’ll call soon.” My adrenaline was pumping; I wondered if its energy would dry my clothes. Emil was more ambitious then Prezoil had imagined. And more stupid than I’d dreamed possible. It pleased me to nail the greasy fucker for more than just dirty tricks.