Crime Machine

by Giles Blunt

  Lemur steadied her, strong hands gripping her biceps.

  “You can let go of me now, perv.”

  “Nobody laughed at you,” Lemur said. “Night he brought you in, Papa said, ‘Nikki’s been doing what she has to do to survive. I won’t hear her criticized for it.’”

  Nikki imitated Papa’s tone. “‘I won’t hear her criticized for it.’”

  Lemur smiled. He had a good smile—the gap in his front teeth made him look like a little kid—but he didn’t use it much. “Okay, I’m going to tie this to the rear axle.”

  Ignoring the snow, Lemur got down on his back and slid under the Range Rover. All Nikki could see were his legs and the rope jerking beside them as he tied it. She thought about making a grab for his crotch, going down on him right here in the snow. See exactly how faggoty he might be.

  “Why are we doing this, anyway?” she said to his legs. “Who in their right mind is going to come out here?”

  Lemur emerged from under the car and stood up, swatting snow from his pants. “You want to question Papa, you go right ahead. But you may have noticed, if you’re going to stay in this family, you don’t ask too many questions.” He got into the Range Rover and started it. He rolled down the window and said, “Let me know when the rock’s about twenty feet up.”

  The car inched forward, pulling the rope taut. The huge rock Lemur had fixed to the other end with many complicated knots began to rise in the air. When it was about twenty feet up, she called out, “Stop!”

  Lemur got out and showed her how to tie the loop, how to set it to be tripped by an unwary footstep. “Okay, let’s try it out. Step in the loop, there.”

  “I’m not stepping on that thing.”

  Lemur gave her a look. He didn’t have to say anything. It was the family look. It said, This is family business and you just get it done. “It’s not gonna hurt, right?”

  “No.”

  Nikki stomped one foot on the hidden trigger. The loop slithered closed round her ankle and she was hoisted into the air as the counterweight slammed to the ground. “Ow, Lemur. What the fuck.”

  “Watch your language.”

  “I hit my head, you jerk-off.”

  “Nikki, you have to stop cursing. It’s a sign of weakness, and members of this family are not weak. You use language like that, Papa’s gonna go berserk.”

  Nikki was dangling upside down from one ankle, the snowy forest floor swinging crazily beneath her. “Just get me down before I throw up. The thing works, okay? Anybody comes along this trail, they’re totally fucked—sorry!—trapped. Don’t wanna hurt those virgin ears of yours.”

  In the kitchen, Papa had just finished his lunch and was sitting at the table picking his teeth and listening to the radio. There were a lot of local ads, but it kept promising news. Jack was staring out the window, where a light snow was falling.

  Papa put the toothpick on the plate and pushed the plate aside. Then he rested his elbows on the table and leaned his face into his hands, like a man suffering a tragedy. After a while he said, “God. I have such thoughts.”

  His words were muffled. Jack turned from the window and said, “What’d you say?”

  “Such thoughts come to me,” Papa said, his face still in his hands. “Such images.”

  “I’m aware of it,” Jack said. “It’s not like you’re the one got to deal with it.”

  “Picture this. Neighbours hear a barking dog. As far as they know, the people who live in that particular house are away. The barking goes on all through the night. Finally the police come and, after trying the doorbell, after trying to see in the windows, they bust the door open. What they find inside beggars the imagination. A dog is barking all right, but the dog is sewn inside a human body, his dog head emerging where the human head should be.”

  Jack turned back to the window. “Personally, I don’t get the attraction of headless bodies—having seen ’em up close and all.”

  “Shh. Listen.”

  The local newscast opened with an item about a First Nations girl who had shot an assailant with a crossbow.

  “A crossbow,” Papa said. “Have to give her points for that.”

  A police spokesman related that the girl was not being charged with anything, and her alleged attacker was in hospital but expected to survive his injury.

  Meanwhile, residents of Algonquin Bay continue to live in fear, wondering if they should expect more murders following last Thursday’s grisly double slaying. Police believe they have now identified the victims, but that information is being withheld pending notification of next of kin. As to the killer or killers, police still seem pretty much in the dark. We spoke to Detective John Cardinal of the Algonquin Bay police service earlier today.

  The detective’s voice came on. “This investigation is still in its beginning stages, but at least it’s now on solid ground and we have a number of different leads to follow up.” CKAT will keep you updated as further developments unfold.

  “‘In fear,’” Papa said. “I like that, ‘in fear.’ In fear is exactly the way people should be living. Fear is healthy. Fear is good. There’s a new world coming, and it’s nothing like the old world.”

  “Chaos is coming,” Jack said. “Hold on to your hats.” He traced K-OS in the condensation on the window.

  “Guided chaos. Exactly right.”

  Jack drew a happy face in the O. “Lemur is taking an awful long time to set that trap. Maybe I should go find them.”

  “Lemur knows what he’s doing.”

  “You trust him with Nikki? Girl’s got a hot body for a thirteen-year-old. Terrible face. But I’d have swore she was sixteen.”

  “Lemur will behave like a gentleman. I’ve trained a lot of kids over the years, and he seems to get it more than most.”

  “Including me?”

  “Including you.”

  “That’s the thanks I get.”

  “I’m referring to the gentleman part, Jack. Each kid responds to one part of the code more than another. In your case, it’s loyalty. For Lemur, it’s manners.”

  “I’ve never understood why you’re so all-fired missionary on the subject.”

  “Because no situation is made worse by good manners, and many are made better.”

  “I still don’t see why it’s taking them so long.”

  “Jack, that’s just lust talking. You know it’s a problem for you and it only brings you misery and pain. But I don’t define you by it, and I hope you don’t either. You’re such a strong guy, I can’t imagine you’re going to let it get the better of you.”

  Jack turned from the window. He opened the fridge and took out a can of the old man’s ginger ale, opened it and took a drink. He wiped his mouth and said, “I didn’t say nothing about lust. That girl don’t even turn me on, tell you the truth. That face of hers.”

  “Let’s not be shallow about people’s looks. Nikki’s face is perfectly fine.”

  “It’s not to my taste is what I’m saying. So it’s not lust talking, Papa. It’s concern. We’re supposed to look after each other, and I’m concerned about Nikki.”

  “Nikki’s in no danger with Lemur at her side.”

  “It’s Lemur I’m concerned about.”

  “Then you don’t know human nature. And you don’t know Lemur.”

  Jack drank down the rest of the ginger ale and crushed the can in his fist. “Lemur this, Lemur that. What’s he ever done? What’re you always going on about that little faggot for?”

  “Jack, please. We do not call each other names. You’ve spent years in institutions—have I ever called you psycho?”

  “No.”

  “Crazy? Disturbed? Wacko? I have not. And no one else in this family ever has or ever will. Because we respect you, Jack. And we respect your ability to give as you receive.”

  Jack felt he should have a reply to this, that there was something unfair about it. But there was a lot right about it too, and now he felt bad for letting Papa down, letting the family down. Afte
r a time he said, “You always told me loyalty was the most important thing. Now all you go on about is manners.”

  “Loyalty is second nature in Lemur. His manners, on the other hand, needed a lot of work. When we first took him in—don’t you remember?— it was ‘fuck this’ and ‘motherfucker’ that, and now he’s a model of polite speech. With you, loyalty has always been an issue. Lemur is like a hunting dog, but you—you’re a wild stallion. Magnificent, yes, but liable to gallop away at the first chance.”

  “You question my loyalty? After what I just done for you? Everything you said, down to the letter—when you said and how you said. Do you have any concept what that took?”

  Papa stood up and opened his arms wide. Jack hesitated then stepped closer, and Papa closed his arms around him in a bear hug. “Jack, your courage is never in doubt. Not for one minute. You’re our samurai. Our warrior. Our knight. Some poet said, ‘Lonely are the brave.’ Well, not in my house. You are crucial to this family and I trust you with my life, Jack. With my life.” Papa stood back, hands still gripping Jack’s shoulders. “When it comes down to it, Jack—when it comes to sheer guts?—I think you’ve got me outclassed. Maybe one day I’ll prove myself wrong, but I don’t think so.”

  Jack did not feel brave. If he had any guts, he’d tell Papa that a girl, some kid, had seen him out at that house and it had panicked him so bad he couldn’t see straight. He should have killed her—run her down, shot her, whatever it took—but it hadn’t been part of the operation and he’d just panicked. But he couldn’t say it. He pulled away and folded his arms. “So when’s Lemur going to face his big test? He’s been part of this family a long time now. Is he gonna do the old man?”

  “If I ask him to, he will.”

  “You think so? I wouldn’t have said the odds favour it.”

  Papa smiled. “That’s because you’re a man of action, Jack. Understanding people is not your strong point.”

  21

  THE CRIMINAL WHO CALLED HIMSELF Papa had locked Lloyd Kreeger back in his master bedroom, having removed anything that might be construed as a sharp object. That, at least, was a positive development. Lloyd’s hands were still cuffed together in front of him, but this didn’t restrict him too much. He had a comfortable bed and lots to read, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Henry. Even Charles Dickens couldn’t stop him from picturing the worst.

  He was trying to decide if there was any hope to his situation, or if he should risk escape and a bullet in the head, when this “Papa” came and got him and led him once more to the basement office. This strange man now knew some of Lloyd’s passwords, and had made notes of different account numbers. They sat beside each other now on two office chairs, as if one were teaching the other about software.

  “Look what I found, Lloyd.”

  Lloyd leaned forward to peer at the screen. His New York investment accounts. “A discount brokerage site,” he said.

  “I know what it is, Lloyd. My point is, you didn’t tell me you had these accounts. Add up these different funds, we’re looking at a couple of hundred thousand U.S.”

  “I forgot I had them. Those were set up must be thirty years ago, back when I was working in New York. I never touch them.”

  “I know. I checked your transaction history. But you didn’t tell me about them. That’s my point.”

  “I never think about them.”

  “They send you statements once a month. Which you file away in those neat blue binders I found. You’re keeping things from me, Lloyd. You’re chiselling me. I try to help you out, I put you back in your room, I make you as comfortable as possible …”

  “You steal everything I have …”

  The man’s eyes on him expressed nothing but mild disappointment. He turned back to the computer screen. “Well, we’re just going to have to empty these out, aren’t we.”

  “Those are for my grandchildren. My daughter has three kids, and all three of them are going to be in university at the same time. She is a copy editor, her husband is a freelance journalist. I doubt if they make fifty grand a year between them. Those funds are to see their kids through college.”

  “It’s not letting me move anything.”

  “Well, I can’t help you, I haven’t touched those funds since they were set up. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  The man unholstered his sidearm, took aim at a lamp, and fired. The base of the lamp shattered, and Lloyd’s ears rang as if they were made of brass.

  “Apply yourself to the problem,” the man told him. “I have every faith that, together, we can get past this.”

  —

  Sometimes it seemed to Nikki that this “family” was a real thing, and not just some make-believe game they were playing. Tonight was one of those times. Papa had asked the three of them—not ordered them, asked them—to refrain from turning on the television. He wanted them to light a fire, a big one, while he was downstairs with the old man, and he would join them a little later.

  “And then what?” Jack had wanted to know.

  “You keep your eyes on that fire and tell each other everything you see.”

  Which, in Nikki’s opinion, had worked out great. Jack had built up a big fire, fat logs criss-crossed over each other, and the flames flapped and swayed and you could hear the hot air rushing up the chimney. The furniture was arranged at angles around the fireplace, as if it were a TV. Nikki had an armchair to herself on one side, Jack had the other, and Lemur was lying on the couch, propped up on one elbow. His face glowed orange in the firelight.

  At first they just pointed out different shapes that shifted among the logs and flames. Lemur saw a hooded monk, Nikki saw a fat man on a bike, which made the other two guffaw, and Jack saw seven little dwarves, all carrying axes and saws over their shoulders. Nikki had seen that in a cartoon somewhere, but she didn’t mention it. They played this game for a time and even Jack, a world-class grouch, was smiling, teeth gleaming in the firelight. His shadow leapt and shuddered on the ceiling.

  Then Lemur suggested they try to see their futures in the flames. “Try to imagine where you’ll be in ten years. What your situation will be. Who you’ll be with.”

  “We’re gonna be in the north,” Jack said. “K-OS will be in effect. All the underclasses are gonna rise up and the rest of the world will try to crush them—they’re already trying to crush them. But this time the losers are gonna win—the blacks, the Aboriginals, the Muslims—because they’ve been down so long they don’t see no downside to fighting to the death and lopping heads off. That’s why we’re commandeering the Jeeps and the snowmobiles. Ten years from now, hundreds of members of this family from all across the continent will be hid out in the north—small communes, self-sustaining. Rest of the planet, K-OS reigns. North is going to be the best place to be, because blacks and Muslims obviously don’t care for cold and the rest of the planet’s gonna burn.”

  “Is Papa from up north?” Nikki said. “Is that why he’s so crazy about it?”

  “He was raised somewheres up north,” Jack said, “but that is not what this is about. Haven’t you heard about global warming? North’s gonna be the only place habitable.”

  “That’s right,” Lemur said. “That’s how Papa sees it.”

  “How Papa sees things got nothing to do with it. It’s the way things are.”

  “Well, however it goes, I’m with this family to the end,” Lemur said. “But right now that’s not what I’m seeing in those flames. Well, maybe a little bit.” He pointed to part of an ashy log that had fallen away from the flames. “See, there’s my igloo right there.”

  “Kinda hot for an igloo,” Nikki said.

  “But all that heat in there? All that beauty? That’s coming from the loving home I’m going to put together with my wife.”

  “Oh, sure,” Jack said. “That’s crystal clear.”

  “I’m telling you, I can see her. She’s got long brown hair. Down to her shoulders. A little bit of curl to it. And when she smiles, she’
s got those little curvy things either side of her mouth.”

  “Dimples,” Nikki said.

  “Is that what dimples are? Then she’s got dimples. She’s tall—at least as tall as me—and she’s got a nice figure. Not too full. She’s real smart, too. Smarter than me.”

  “That is likely true,” Jack said.

  “And she wears turtleneck sweaters and corduroy jeans that fit real nice. Because it’s cold up there. And she has a white coat with a fur hood and a sky-blue scarf. I’m telling you, I can see this girl. I can see her so clear. When we meet? I’m going to know who she is right off. And I’m gonna fall in love with her, because I’m already in love with her.”

  “Aww,” Jack said. “That is truly beautiful.”

  “It is,” Nikki said. “It really is, Lemur.”

  Nikki was wishing she’d seen something like that. She’d forgotten about that north business. Papa’s K-OS vision. It made sense to her, from what was on the news and all, but it didn’t stick in her head. Sometimes she thought Papa himself didn’t really believe it, that he believed something else entirely, which he kept to himself.

  Lemur looked over at her, the whites of his eyes gleaming. “What do you see for yourself, Nikki?”

  Nikki shrugged. “I guess I see music. I know I have a voice like a frog, but I hear songs in my head all the time. So I see, like, a studio of some kind. Do they have those up north where we’re going?”

  Lemur sat up. “If they don’t, we’ll build one. We’ll look it up on the Web, get some books on it.”

  “It’d be like a combination music studio, like for recording, and a TV studio. So you could make the videos while you record the songs.”

  “Oh, sure,” Jack said. “Those Eskimos are some fine singers. Famous for it. Have you ever heard the Eskimo Boys’ Choir?”

  “We’ll have all sorts of family up there,” Lemur said. “Some of them’ll be singers for sure. Anyways, chaos is only gonna reign so long. Sooner or later the blacks and the Muslims and all the rest of the, like, downtrodden are gonna come to us to run things. They don’t have the experience with it—not with running a civilization like ours. They’re gonna need help, and they’re gonna come to us that know how it works.”