Killing the Blues (18 page)

“I'll prepare the paperwork.”

“Try not to hurt yourself.”

“Not to worry. That's why the government provides us with assistants.”

“I knew there was a reason.”

 

 

 

W
hen Jesse finally got home, he poured himself a scotch. He was unnerved by Rollo Nurse. He had remembered the night when he thought he heard strange noises. Maybe it had been Rollo. Maybe he knew where Jesse lived.

He took his scotch upstairs and was surprised to find Mildred Memory asleep on his bed. She had been spending more and more time indoors. She was becoming domesticated.

When Jesse tried to get into bed, he encountered a problem. Mildred Memory was stretched out diagonally across the bed, which left very little room for him. He attempted to push her out of his way, but that made her all the more resolute. Finally, he picked her up, got himself comfortable, and then placed her back down. She looked at him with half-closed eyes, then stretched out again, making it eminently clear she regarded the bed as hers.

Jesse smiled.

Working around the cat, he made himself as comfortable as he could, then went to sleep.

O
n Friday morning, Jesse and Suitcase were standing at the rear of the junior high school auditorium, awaiting the start of the weekly assembly. A number of the students had noticed the two officers, and the crowd was starting to buzz.

The assembly came to order. The pledge of allegiance was recited. Eleanor Nelson took the podium. She was just beginning her opening remarks when Jesse and Suitcase made their move.

They spotted Tauber and walked toward him. A hush came over the auditorium. Mrs. Nelson stopped speaking.

“Stuart Tauber,” Jesse said.

Mr. Tauber looked at Jesse with alarm.

“Yes,” he said.

“You are under arrest for the crime of sexual abuse of a minor. Officer Simpson will read you your rights.”

A collective gasp could be heard in the auditorium.

Mrs. Nelson stared unblinkingly at the unfolding scenario.

Suitcase began to read Tauber his rights.

Jesse looked around. He spotted Lisa Barry, with whom he made eye contact. He saw Julie Knoller, who was smiling.

When Suitcase finished, he took a pair of handcuffs from his service belt. Holding Tauber's hands behind his back, he cuffed him.

Then Jesse yanked Mr. Tauber out of his row and began walking him up the aisle. Tauber's head was lowered. His eyes were on the floor.

A cry of “Boo, Tauber” began to arise. It grew louder as more of the audience became emboldened.

Julie Knoller stood and began to applaud rhythmically. Before long, many of the students joined her.

As Jesse led Mr. Tauber out of the auditorium, the boos and the rhythmic applause had become deafening.

 

 

 

J
esse pulled his cruiser to a stop in front of Hathaway's Previously Owned Quality Vehicles. He went inside.

Hasty was in his office. The door was open. Jesse knocked.

“It's open,” Hasty said.

Jesse entered.

“Are you here to arrest me,” Hasty said.

“I bet you say that to all the cops.”

“How did you know?”

“I want you to do something for me,” Jesse said, as he sat down in front of Hasty's desk.

“What do you want,” Hasty said.

“I want you to pretend that I'm a car salesman.”

“What?”

“I want to sell you a couple of used Hondas.”

Hasty snorted.

“You can't be serious,” he said.

“I couldn't be more serious,” Jesse said.

“I'm not interested,” Hasty said.

“I'll offer you an excellent deal.”

“I'm still not interested.”

“Hasty, I want you to open your mind to the advantages of making this deal with me.”

“There are no advantages.”

“You're wrong about that. The big advantage is that by buying these Hondas, you'll be performing your civic duty,” Jesse said.

“Something tells me that these are the same two Hondas which I sold to you. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“And you want me to buy them back from you.”

“Correct again.”

Hasty didn't say anything.

“Say yes, Hasty.”

“No.”

“I'd consider it a personal favor.”

“No. How much do you want for them?”

“Same as I paid.”

“The same as you paid,” Hasty said.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Come on, Hasty. You know you're gonna do it.”

“This is highway robbery.”

“It's for the good of Paradise.”

“Why do you want to sell them?”

“I'm done with them.”

“What about the car thefts?”

“Finished.”

“How do you know?”

“I'm the police chief. I know everything.”

“What you paid less twenty percent,” Hasty said.

“No.”

“Fifteen percent.”

“This isn't a negotiation, Hasty.”

“You have to let me make something on the deal,” Hasty said.

“No, I don't,” Jesse said.

“Why are you being such a hard-ass,” Hasty said.

“Because Paradise needs the money.”

Hasty didn't say anything.

“So it's a deal?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You implied it, though.”

“I did not.”

“The check goes to Carter Hansen,” Jesse said.

“You can't imagine how much this hurts me,” Hasty said.

“Cut the crap, Hasty. You'll be bragging about this within the hour.”

“Where are the vehicles?”

“They'll be here momentarily,” Jesse said.

“Don't go thinking this means you own me,” Hasty said.

“How could you say such a thing,” Jesse said.

J
esse fed Mildred Memory and left the house to join the night-patrol team. Thus far the search had turned up nothing. No one recognized the photo of Rollo Nurse. No one remembered having seen him. The stepped-up night patrol had garnered no results. He was prepared for a long night.

Several minutes after Jesse left, Rollo emerged from the darkness at the entrance to the footbridge. He walked swiftly across it.

He went around to the porch doors, and after determining they were locked, he smashed a glass pane on one of them.

He reached inside, mindful of the broken glass. He turned the knob and opened the door.

He went inside.

So this is how he lives,
thought Rollo, as he looked around the house.
Not so fancy. His things aren't so fancy.

He took out his flashlight and his bowie knife. He began to systematically destroy the living room. He smashed lamps. He slammed the TV to the floor. He broke glasses. He sliced open the leather armchairs and ripped out the stuffing. He upended the desk.

In the kitchen, he noticed the bowls of food that had been placed on the floor. He picked one of them up and caught a whiff of cat food.

He continued his destruction.

But now he was also searching for a cat.

 

 

 

S
uitcase drove and Jesse rode shotgun as they joined the night patrol. There was no sign of Rollo.

Somewhere between three and four a.m., they decided to call it a night. Suitcase was hungry, and he convinced Jesse to accompany him to a highway diner.

Suitcase ordered the breakfast special. Three eggs with sausage and home fries. He slathered his sourdough toast with butter and jelly, and washed it down with a supersized Diet Coke.

Jesse had coffee.

“I didn't think I'd be eating alone,” Suitcase said.

“But you compensated by eating enough for us both,” Jesse said.

“I'm still growing,” Suitcase said.

“Yes, but in which direction,” Jesse said.

Jesse noticed that the waitress, a pretty woman named Debby, was particularly solicitous of Suitcase's dining needs. She hovered over him when she took his order. She brushed up against him when she served it. She kept returning to ask if everything was all right.

He also noticed that Suitcase interrupted his gourmandizing to watch Debby every time she sauntered by.

“You got something going with her,” Jesse said.

“What do you mean,” Suitcase said.

“Debby. The waitress. You got something going with her?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Come on, Suit. The only thing that tears your attention away from your food is the sight of her ass.”

“That's not a nice thing to say, Jesse.”

“But it's true.”

Suitcase didn't say anything.

“So,” Jesse said.

“Maybe.”

“What maybe?”

“We went to high school together,” Suitcase said.

“And?”

“We dated.”

“And?”

“She wanted to get married, and I didn't.”

Jesse didn't say anything.

“So she married someone else.”

“And?”

“Stop saying ‘and.' ”

Jesse shrugged.

“So she got married to someone else,” Jesse said.

“Yes,” Suitcase said.

“And?”

“She got divorced.”

“Kids?”

“Two.”

Jesse didn't say anything.

“We fool around,” Suitcase said.

“Serious?”

“Not serious. She's got two kids, for God's sake.”

“But you like each other.”

“After a fashion.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“We like each other, but we're not serious,” Suitcase said.

“Is she the reason we came here?”

“It's a toss-up.”

“A toss-up?”

“The breakfast special was a big attraction.”

“And Debby?”

“She was a big attraction, too.”

“Which isn't obvious in any way.”

“Is it obvious,” Suitcase said.

“Do firemen wear red suspenders,” Jesse said.

 

 

 

J
esse knew something was wrong as soon as he crossed the footbridge. He could sense it. He unholstered his pistol, turned on his high-beam flashlight, and began to circle the house. He saw that the front door was off its hinges, hanging open. He noticed the damaged porch doors. He went inside.

The devastation was total. Everything that could possibly have been broken, was. He stepped over shattered glass and overturned furniture. Nothing was as it had been.

He stepped onto the patio. The love seat had been cut open and its innards strewn about.

He went upstairs and found the remains of his bedroom. The mattress had been slashed. The furniture lay splintered on the floor.

He called for Mildred Memory, but she didn't appear, which alarmed him. He righted one of his kitchen chairs and sat down heavily, his head in his hands.

He knew it was Rollo Nurse.

He phoned Molly. Dawn was just breaking. She told him she'd be right over.

A
fter having examined the wreckage, Molly sat down alongside Jesse.

“We can fix this,” she said.

He shrugged.

“You're worried about the cat,” she said.

“I am.”

“She'll turn up. Cats have away of doing that.”

He didn't say anything.

Because Jesse's phone had been ripped from the wall, Molly used her cell to make several calls. One was to Captain Healy.

 

 

 

H
ealy stopped by on his way to Boston.

“Rollo Nurse,” he said.

“Be my guess,” Jesse said.

“He's getting bolder,” Healy said.

“He is,” Jesse said.

“What's next?”

“I have to find him.”

“He could be anywhere.”

“He could.”

Healy didn't say anything.

“I'm going to put more boots on the ground. Ratchet up the surveillance. He's bound to slip up,” Jesse said.

“He hasn't yet.”

The two men didn't speak for a while.

Then Jesse said, “Mildred Memory is missing.”