Malabarista Page 17

“We have to go.” Lane stood up and shook Harper’s hand.

  Harper’s phone rang. He picked it up. “Yes?” He listened then held up his hand, indicating the detectives should wait. “No one was injured?” He listened. “Good.” Harper hung up the phone. “You were right. There was an improvised explosive at Jelena’s house. A grenade in an empty tin can was tied to the front door. It was rigged to fall out when the door opened. Underneath the can was a bucket filled with homemade explosive. The bomb disposal team is singing your praises for warning them before anyone went into the house.”

  When they walked into their offices five minutes later, Zacki was sipping a soft drink and sitting in the chair across from Lori.

  Zacki stood up when she saw Lane. “What did you do with her? I can’t find my mom.”

  Lane took her elbow. “Come on down to my office and we’ll talk. I’ve seen your mom. She’s safe.”

  “She is?” Zacki followed him.

  “Lane! You sonuvabitch!”

  Lane turned. Former Staff Sergeant Gregory stood at his office door with a cardboard box in his arms. His flesh was red right up to the top of his skull.

  Keely faced the staff sergeant. “You backstabbing bastard. I remember you hitting on me at the Scotch drinkers’ club. You asked me how much it would cost to put a smile on your face! Then you pointed at your crotch and asked me if I knew what a big treat you had waiting for me!”

  Gregory turned white.

  Lori stood up. “You said that to her? You’ve got a daughter in high school! As far as I’m concerned, you deserve to be suspended!” She pointed at the door.

  The door hit Gregory in the backside when the box jammed up against the doorframe.

  The door shut.

  It was as if all of the tension had been sucked out of the room. Lori smiled at Keely. “Nice work.”

  Lane looked at Lori and said, “Thank you for blowing the whistle on him and his buddy. One gutsy move on your part made a huge difference.”

  “You weren’t supposed to know that!” Lori said. “I was told that it would be kept confidential. You detectives are so smug when you figure something out!”

  “Thank you, Lori,” Keely said. “Otherwise that bastard Stockwell would have gotten away with blowing up my car.”

  Lori looked sideways at the detectives. “Don’t start thinking you’re smarter than you are. Now get back to work.”

  Lane motioned for Zacki to come into his office. He waited for Keely to step inside, then shut the door. Zacki sat in the chair between the detectives’ desks.

  “Did you go home?” Lane asked.

  “No. Mom told me not to go back when she left me at my friend’s place. My mom’s being all weird lately. Paranoid.” Zacki wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

  “She was arrested this morning,” Keely said.

  Zacki looked at Keely and then Lane. “But she didn’t kill my dad!”

  Lane said, “Your mother confessed to killing him because he was drunk and beating her.”

  “Yes, he was drunk. Yes, he was beating her. He was punching her in the face. Then he started to choke her. I tried to pull him off, but he was too strong. So I hit him on the head with a frying pan. He fell on my mom. He wasn’t breathing. That night we tied him to some blocks of cement. We drove around until we found a place to dump the body. It was a pond or something. We were in mud up to our knees. My mom told everyone my father moved back home.” Zacki began to sob. “I killed him.”

  “You look like you had a rough day, uncle.” Matt sat at the foot of Arthur’s bed. Christine sat next to him.

  “Something like that.” Lane smiled at the two of them.

  “You were there, weren’t you?” Christine looked sideways at Lane. Matt looked at Christine.

  “Well?” Christine asked.

  “Where?” Lane asked.

  “Don’t even try! When I called this morning, you were in the middle of it all.” Christine shook her head.

  “Yes, Keely and I were there.”

  “How close were you to the explosion?” Matt asked.

  “Not that close.” Lane braced himself for the second blast of the day.

  “Was your vehicle damaged?” Matt asked.

  “Slightly.”

  “Shithead,” Christine said.

  “Well?” Lori and Keely were waiting when Lane returned.

  “Christine called me a shithead.” Lane looked to Lori’s right at Gregory’s empty office.

  “She figured out what happened today?” Lori asked.

  Lane nodded.

  “Sounds like she had every right to call you a shithead,” Lori said.

  Keely touched his shoulder. “When does Arthur get to go home?”

  SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2

  chapter 19

  “Hello.” Lane picked up the phone by the bed and looked at the time.

  “I know it’s early. I can’t find my son.”

  Lane heard apology and worry in the woman’s voice. “Who’s your son?”

  “Daniel. He didn’t come home last night. I thought maybe he and Christine. . .”

  Please don’t finish that sentence. Lane sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll go check.” He slipped on a pair of sweats and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

  Roz got up and whined at the door.

  After letting the dog out, Lane went down into the family room, where he found Daniel sleeping on the floor and Christine sprawled on the couch, snoring, with one leg on the floor.

  Lane went back into the kitchen and picked up the phone. “He’s here, asleep in the family room.”

  “Thank you! Please get him to call when he wakes up.” She hung up.

  Arthur lay on the couch in the living room. “Who was that?”

  Lane walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. “Dan’s mom. How are you feeling?” He looked at the plastic containers draining from Arthur’s incisions and safety-pinned to the pockets of his pajamas. The containers were filling with a pinkish liquid.

  “Tired.”

  “I need to change your dressings and empty those drains,” Lane said.

  TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4

  chapter 20

  Dr. Alexandre asked, “You were there when the car exploded at the bridge on Friday?”

  Lane reached for his coffee. “That’s right.”

  “And the suspect was armed?”

  “Yes, I get your point,” Lane said.

  “You’re still angry with me?” Dr. Alexandre was wearing white slacks and a white blouse today. As always, her collar was buttoned all the way to the top.

  Lane took a long breath. “Yes.”

  “I see.” Alexandre sat back in her chair and wrapped her hands around an oversized cup of coffee.

  She really knows her coffee, Lane thought, inhaling the aroma.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Of course I’m angry. You said I was trying to kill myself, that I was taking risks as a way of inviting self-destruction. My reaction was immediate and raw.” Lane looked at the creamy coffee in his cup. “And it still feels like an open wound.”

  Alexandre waited.

  “Still, when I looked back on the pattern of behaviour — my pattern of behaviour — I didn’t come to the same conclusion that you did.

  “Well?”

  “I like the rush.” Lane blushed.

  “You like being shot at?” Alexandre seemed taken aback.

  “I feel totally alive. When I’m on the hunt for a killer, it’s the same. It’s real, it’s raw, it’s very elemental. I feel like justice is possible when I’m after a killer. And when there are kids involved. . .”

  Alexandre waited.

  “I found a dead child in a garbage bag, and I saw another child’s body in the back of a camper. Their parents murdered those children. I don’t ever want to see that again. I feel sometimes, when I’m after the killer, there’s a chance, a small chance, that a child can be saved.”

  “Have you managed
to save a child?”

  “Perhaps twice. Yes, I think we were in time twice.”

  “That’s what drives you?”

  Lane tried to smile, but he felt it turn into a grimace. “That and the smell.”

  “The smell?”

  “The smell of death. It stays with me until I find the killer. I can’t get rid of it until I see the killer in handcuffs.”

  Alexandre frowned.

  “What?” Lane asked. You don’t believe me.

  “Where did you first smell death?”

  “In the neighbour’s backyard.”

  “What?”

  “I was a kid.”

  “How old were you?”

  Lane closed his eyes. “Five or six.”

  “Can you tell me more?”

  “The neighbours had a daughter. She was fifteen or sixteen at the time. They said she was sick and couldn’t go to school one winter. The next summer, I heard a baby crying. I even saw the daughter sitting with the baby at the kitchen table. Then there was no baby. A couple of weeks later, their dog was digging in the garden. The girl’s brother chased after it with a shovel. And for a long time, until winter came, I could smell something in their backyard. I didn’t smell it again until I found the little girl in the garbage can.” Lane opened his eyes. “I always wondered what happened to that baby. Now I know.”

  “Did you mention it to your parents?”

  Lane nodded. “I tried to tell my mother.”

  “What was her reaction?”

  “She used a belt on me and told me never to speak to anyone about it again. You’re the first person I’ve told since her.”

  WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5

  chapter 21

  “Roz needs a walk.” Lane sipped coffee while he sat on the deck.

  Roz’s head lifted at the mention of the word “walk.” Arthur dropped his chin, pretending, unconvincingly, to be asleep.

  A car door closed. Roz lifted her head.

  “What time do the kids get home?” Lane asked.

  “Christine won’t be back ’til six. She’s driving the beer cart today. Matt should be back by noon.” Arthur reached for his coffee. He winced with pain.

  Roz barked. The doorbell rang. Lane got up. “I’ll get it. Need a refill?”

  “Please.” Arthur handed Lane his cup.

  Roz followed Lane into the house.

  Arthur closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on his face and arms. He heard muffled voices inside the house. He opened his eyes when the back door opened.

  “Hello.” Joseph stood in the doorway wearing a black golf shirt and casual grey pants.

  “Go ahead and sit, I’ll bring out some coffee.” Lane looked at Arthur with an unreadable expression.

  “It’s nice back here.” Joseph sat down and looked around at the variety of marigolds and gladiolas. He bent to pet Roz. She growled and backed away to get closer to Arthur. She crawled underneath his chair. The hair along her back stood up in a ridge.

  Lane opened the back door, balancing a tray with three coffee cups, milk, and sugar. He set it down on the table.

  “Where’s Christine?” Joseph asked.

  “At work.” Lane caught a whiff of his brother’s aftershave. Smells like money.

  “Oh? Where?”

  “A golf course.” Lane bent down to pet and reassure Roz. “Which one?”

  “Lynx Ridge. Matt works there too.” Lane watched his brother, who was avoiding eye contact. Lane fixed a fresh cup of coffee for Arthur and handed it to him.

  Joseph stood to add sugar and cream to his coffee. He sipped. “Very good.”

  Lane waited for Arthur to take the first sip of his coffee, then got up and fixed his own.

  “Are you the person with the green thumb?” Joseph asked Arthur.

  “Yes. It gets me outside.” Arthur studied Lane as he sat down.

  “Very nice.” Joseph nodded with approval at what he saw.

  What do you want? “You were in the neighbourhood? On your way to a golf game?”

  Joseph sipped his coffee and looked at Roz, who kept watch from under Lane’s chair. “I thought perhaps we could reach an agreement over the will. There has been correspondence from your lawyer, a Mr. Thomas Pham.”

  “Tom is our lawyer.” Lane looked at Arthur.

  “It would be better if we settled this one like family.” Lane noted the patronizing tone in his brother’s voice.

  Joseph looked at Arthur as if he expected him to get up and leave them alone.

  “Arthur’s my family. As are Matt and Christine.” Lane felt the old rage clawing its way up his throat. Use it! It’ll keep your mind sharp!

  “Very well,” Joseph replied, his voice dripping with disapproval.

  You didn’t think I would get a lawyer. You thought it was a bluff. The realization almost made Lane smile. “What do you want?”

  “I want to settle the will.” Joseph met Lane’s eyes and looked away.

  “As I said before, we have two children to educate.” Lane set his coffee down. Before I throw it in his face! He’ll do anything to keep this quiet, to keep it out of the papers. Joseph Lane’s brother is gay!

  Joseph inhaled. He pulled a pen and two sheets of paper from his pocket. He slid one over to Lane. “You write down a figure that you think is fair, and I’ll write down what I think is fair. Then we’ll negotiate.”

  “We need a third piece of paper.” Lane looked at Arthur.

  Arthur shook his head. “It’s okay,” he told Lane. “You take care of it.”

  Joseph wrote down a figure and folded the paper in half.

  Lane worked out the price of books and tuition in his head, then multiplied by two. Then he thought, Fuck you! He wrote down a number, added two zeroes, and showed it to Arthur, who blanched.

  Joseph slid his number over to Lane and waited for Lane to do the same.

  Lane opened his brother’s piece of paper and looked at the figure. He worked the numbers in his head. It’ll cover school for Christine and Matt with some left over.

  “Your figure is a bit imaginative,” Joseph said.

  “Yours is a bit frugal.” Lane folded the paper in half and folded it again. “Besides, my number includes Mr. Pham’s expenses.”

  “A very generous fee.” Joseph pretended to sip his coffee.

  Lane waited and watched his brother. He could hear Arthur set his cup on the table.

  Roz groaned.

  Joseph tapped his close-cut manicured fingernails on the cup.

  Lane closed his eyes. “Perhaps the best way to settle this is the way a family would. A bit of give and take. We add the two numbers and divide by two. Then I phone Thomas to get his approval.” Lane opened his eyes.

  Joseph rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. “Agreed. Thomas will contact me with the amount we’ve agreed on, then?” Joseph stood up.

  “I don’t foresee any complications.” Lane remained seated. He watched his brother open the back door, enter the kitchen, and close the door behind him.

  “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to him?” Arthur asked.

  “We did that a long time ago.” Lane drank his coffee.

  “How does it feel?” Arthur asked.

  “How does what feel?”

  Arthur looked at his coffee cup. “Being bought off.”

  FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7

  chapter 22

  “Explain,” Lori said. “You look like shit.”

  Lane smiled. “You really do know how to cut through all of the crap, don’t you?”

  “At least you’re smiling now.” Lori looked at Keely. “She’s got some good news.”

  Lane looked at his partner. “Well?”

  “I went to talk with the ladies at Jelena’s Alterations. They have this plan to keep the business going and take care of Zacki. She stayed at Rasima’s place the other night.” Keely crossed her arms.

  “That is good news.” Lane sat down.

  “He’s officially
out of here.” Lori hooked her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Gregory’s office.

  “And Stockwell is gone.” Keely leaned against the wall.

  “Smoke has his own reality cop show,” Lane said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Lori stared open-mouthed at Lane.

  “No way,” Keely said.

  “No, I’m kidding. He’s just playing golf, networking, and enjoying his retirement.” Lane shook his head.

  “Sounds like being in hell. I hate golf,” Keely said.

  “I prefer quilting with the girls.” Lori began to smile.

  “What?” Lane asked.

  Lori laughed. “I wonder if they sell Scotch at those fancy golf clubs?”

  “Thank you for being here.” Dr. Alexandre wore a navy blue skirt and a pink blouse. She made sure that everyone had either coffee, tea, or water. Christine and Arthur sat on the couch. Lane and Matt sat across from them in chairs.

  Christine asked, “Why did you want us to be here?”

  Alexandre said, “I’ve got Lane’s point of view. Now I’d like to see the big picture, the family picture. By the way, do any of you know his first name?”

  “I don’t know,” Christine said.

  “Don’t ask me,” Matt said.

  “I promised not to tell,” Arthur said.

  “It’s Paul,” Lane said.

  Matt shrugged.

  Christine said, “What’s so bad about that name?”

  “St. Paul’s words are often quoted to condemn people like me,” Lane said.

  “Oh,” said Christine.

  The doctor turned to Arthur. “How are you feeling?”

  “A bit better every day. Waiting for the results of the biopsy.” Alexandre nodded at Arthur. “How is Lane doing?”

  Arthur looked at Lane. “Better, I think. He saved a girl in kindergarten and her older sister. He was punished for solving the crime. It took its toll.”

  “Why is that?” Alexander asked.

  “Smoke is an asshole,” Christine said.

  “He was punished for doing the right thing. He was punished for saving the little girl’s life. He was punished for putting a killer in jail. He was punished for defusing a situation at Tsuu T ’ ina. Smoke even tried to take credit for the success of that operation.” Arthur took a sip of tea.