Small Crimes (26 page)

I
thought we could sit here together
until dinner is ready.
'
she said.                                                             

I
finished my Scotch, and then poured
us both some wine.
Charlotte
joined me on the loveseat.
At first
she sat with her
hands
clasped and her arms held tightly
into
her body, but after I
put
my arm around her shoulder, she moved close to me, curling her legs under her
and resting her head against my side.

It
felt nice sitting with her. I know it sounds crazy, knowing what she had done,
but it wasn't as if I was much of a choirboy myself. Body-count-wise, she
might've had an edge, but not by much, and not if you included the maimed and
wounded. I even found myself feeling attracted to her. It made me uneasy thinking
about Manny and what I was going to force her to do. I decided it could wait
until later.

She
brought me out of my thoughts by asking whether I liked the wine. I told her I
did. Usually I preferred beer, but I did like the taste of it. I squinted at
the bottle and saw that it was a French Chardonnay.

'It
feels good sitting here with you,' I said, and again, I was mostly telling her
the truth.

I
could feel her body tense. 'You must've sat like this with your wife many
times,' she said.

I
thought about it and realized I never did. It wasn't as if every moment between
Elaine and me was hell, but I couldn't think of one time where I felt as
comfortable and relaxed with Elaine as I did right then.

'To
tell you the truth,' I said, I don't think we ever did.'

She
turned to me, not quite believing what I said, but I could see in her eyes that
she was hoping I wasn't bullshitting her.

'You're
lying now,' she said, half serious.

'No,
I'm not. Elaine and I got together when we were teenagers. Back then we were always
sneaking around and trying not to get caught. Things between us always seemed
hectic and rushed. We were only nineteen when we were married, and then we were
just scraping by. I had joined the force, and all the stresses of the job.
And...'

And
then there were the payoffs, the graft, the small crimes. At some point early
on a coldness had come between Elaine and me. Not long after that came the
cocaine, the gambling, and all the rest.

I
shook my head, trying to shake loose those old memories. 'I guess I got married
too young,' I said.

Her
body relaxed after that. She put her hand on my stomach and peeked at me to see
how I would react to her gesture. I reached down and kissed her forehead. As I
sat with her I tried to forget everything, about who I was and what she was. I
tried to forget everything that had happened and everything that was going to
happen. I tried to simply enjoy the moment, because I've had so few in my life
where I felt any real sense of contentment.

The
buzzer for the oven timer went off.

She
pulled away from me and showed me a reluctant smile. "Why don't you bring
the wineglasses to the table and I'll get dinner,' she said.

The
table was in a small area off to the side of the living room. Charlotte had
already set it, using a linen tablecloth and placing two silver candlesticks in
the middle of it. I put down the wineglasses, and sat and waited. Not long
after, Charlotte came in with the food. Along with the chicken, she had made
roasted potatoes and string beans.

She
lit the two candles and then sat across from me. I watched as she started
cutting her food into tiny bite-sized pieces. Like before, after every few
bites she'd dab at her mouth with her napkin. She was beaming. I could tell the
food was good, but thinking about what I was going to do made it tasteless.
Still, I ate it and remarked to her how delicious her cooking was, and that
made her beam all the more.

'You
really like it?' she asked.

'Could
be the best meal I've ever had,' I said.

We
both sat and ate quietly after that. Charlotte seemed deep in thought, as if
she were trying to make up her mind about something. She didn't exactly look
troubled, but her brow was somewhat furrowed and some nervousness had crept
back into her eyes. She coughed lightly to get my attention.

'Mr.
Vassey's son asked me about you today,' she said. 'He wanted to know how I knew
you.'

'What
did you tell him?'

'He
had seen me in your car, so I told him that I didn't know you but that you were
kind enough to offer me a ride home when my car wouldn't run.'

'Did
he believe you?'

'I
think so, yes.' Her small, pale face darkened. I don't like him at all. I think
he's also a criminal like his father.' She paused. 'You're not involved with
him, are you?'

'No,
I'm not. Anything between the two of us goes back to when I was a police
officer. And you're right, Charlotte, he is a criminal and he's dangerous. You
should try to keep away from him.'

She
had handed me the perfect opening to bring up Manny, but I didn't have the
heart to do it. The least I could do was let her enjoy her dinner. As it was,
talking about Junior had darkened her mood. I tried to change the subject by
asking how she had learned to cook so well.

She
showed me a shy smile. 'My cooking is nothing special,' she said.

'Who
are you kidding? You must've gone to culinary school.’

‘Only
for a year.' Then, hesitating, lowering her voice, 'My father convinced me that
nursing would be more practical.’

‘You
don't like nursing, do you?'

She
looked down at her plate. I didn't think she was going to say anything, but she
told me, 'Not particularly, no.'

'You
should go back to culinary school,' I said. 'We could both start fresh
together. Only I have to first figure out what I could do.'

I
don't know if I was bullshitting her, or playing for time, or

what,
but I think I actually started believing it was possible.
I
guess the last thing I wanted to do was think of Manny.

There
was some wetness around her eyes when she looked back up at me. Not much, but
some.

'Do
you have any ideas what you would like to do, Joe?'

I
did have one idea. Something I felt in my gut. 'I'd like to travel. Maybe go to
Europe,' I said.

'Really?'

'I'm
forty years old and I've never been out of the state, except for Albany, and a
one-day trip to Boston.' And Canada for a couple of hours, but I didn't mention
that.

I
stopped to take a bite of food, and after swallowing, added,
'
I
used to be content with the idea of living out my life in Bradley, but those
days are long gone.' I laughed. 'Kind of pathetic, huh? I don't know, I just
want to see some of the world before I die.'

'I
haven't traveled much either,' she said. I grew up in Toronto. Once, when I was
a child, we went to Niagara Falls, and a few summer trips to Quebec City. But
that's really been all. I haven't seen any other towns in the United States
other than Bradley, and of course, yesterday, our trip to Burlington.'

'Would
you like to see Europe also, Charlotte?'

She
nodded.

'We
could go there,' I said. 'There's nothing in the world stopping us.'

She
laughed. 'Where would you want to go first?'

'I
don't know. Italy, France, maybe Spain, it doesn't much matter.'

'I
always wanted to see England,' she said. I would love to visit their castles,
and see the Thames, and London, and the rolling countryside. Of course, Paris
would be beautiful, too.'

'Why
don't we do it, Charlotte?' I said. The idea of the two of us traveling off to
Europe overwhelmed me. It didn't have to be the other way. I didn't have to
force her into killing Manny. We could just go somewhere and leave Bradley far
behind. Maybe they'd catch up to me eventually, but I'd get a few good months
out of it before they did, and maybe more than a few. There were places where
with some luck we could disappear completely. Maybe one of the Baltic states, maybe
somewhere in East Asia.

I
felt a dryness in my mouth as I asked her, 'What about it, Charlotte? We could
drive to New York tonight and catch a plane. We'd be gone before morning.'

It
got so quiet. I could hear my heart pounding as I waited for her to say
something. She sat staring at me, trying to decide whether I was joking or
serious. I guess she decided I was joking. She showed me a little smile as she
reached across the table and took hold of my hand.

'That
would be so nice, Joe,' she said. 'Maybe someday we'll be able to do something
like that. I hope so.'

I
forced myself to smile back. The idea had been nothing but an impulse, and a
crazy one at that. Once it passed, I realized it would never have worked. We
didn't have the money to make it work. And even if we did, we wouldn't have
been able to survive together for very long. Not with her being the way she was
and me being the way I was. The stresses of running and hiding would've been
too much. As it was, I knew she was borderline psychotic.

And
there were my daughters. Once I started thinking of them, the idea crumbled
into dust around me.

There
was only one way out for me, and as much as I hated the idea of what I was
going to do to her, I had no choice.

We
finished dinner, and afterwards Charlotte made coffee and brought out an
Italian dessert, tiramisu, that she told me she had prepared during her lunch
hour.

I
waited until we had finished the dessert and coffee before asking her,
'Charlotte, how come you've never asked me about my being in jail?'

She
seemed taken aback by that, almost as if she'd been slapped hard across the
face. 'It's not important,' she said. 'You don't have to tell me about it.'

'It
is important, and I do have to tell you about it. I did some pretty bad things
years ago when I was cop. Stabbing and maiming Phil Coakley was only one of
them.'

I
felt something in my throat, and stopped to drink some water. There was a
pleading in Charlotte's eyes for me not to say anything more, but it was too
late. I looked away from her, though. I didn't want to look at those eyes.

'When
I left jail,' I continued, 'all I wanted to do was lead a quiet existence and
never harm anyone again. The problem is Manny Vassey knows enough to send me
back to prison for a long time.'

'He
might keep quiet.'

'He's
not going to. I already know that. Phil has worked out a deal with him, and the
arrangements are going to be finalized Wednesday.'

'But
he's dying. Why would he make a deal?'

'For
a bunch of reasons that don't make a lot of sense. Partly to protect his son,
mostly to try to save his and his son's immortal souls.'

I
couldn't help myself. I looked back over at her. Her face had become dead white
and her eyes were now nothing but small gray holes. It was almost as if she was
wearing some grotesque Japanese kabuki mask - one that was locked in an
expression of anguish. I could see her hands were clenched into tight fists as
she waited for what she knew was coming.

I
took a deep breath.

'I
need you to overdose Manny with morphine,' I said. 'If you don't, I'm going to
go away to prison for the rest of my life.' She just sat and stared at me.
'Charlotte, do you understand me?'

Slowly
she shook her head. Almost as if she were in a trance, she said,
I'
m
not going to do that.'

'You
don't want me to go away to prison, do you?’

‘I'm
not going to do that!'

'I'm
sorry, Charlotte, but you're going to have to.’