The Deader the Better (32 page)

Floyd sounded far away. “Get in. Let’s go.”

“What are we looking at with the cop?” Kurtis asked. We could
now hear them both over the cell phone and from Kurtis’s mike.

“He was breathing when I threw him in the back of the car,”
Floyd said.

“They’re gonna find their alarm monkeyed.”

“Can’t be helped,” Floyd said.

“He see you?”

“If he’d seen me, he’d be dead,” said Floyd.

ROBBY WAS TRYING TO BREAK THE TENSION. READING from yesterday’s
newspaper, while we waited for our friends in city government to show
up for work on Monday morning. Hoping like hell that Deputy Spots was
okay and that we hadn’t left anything behind that pointed our way.
“Says here the Gillette razor company offered ZZ Top six million
bucks to get a shave on television.”

“No sheet,” said Boris.

“Says they turned it down.”

“It’s their look,” Kurtis said. “They couldn’t.”

“For six million bucks, I’d let Katharine Hepburn shave my ass
with a bolo knife,” Carl declared. I was still working on that
image when Robby dropped the paper and sat forward. “Number one,”
he said. MONDAY 8: A.M.

CAMERA 1—TRESSMANThe lower half of Nathan Hand paced in and out
of camera range. “I don’t like it,” he said. Mark Tressman sat
at his desk and began rolling a paper clip around in his fingers.
“It’s just a burglary,” Tressman said.

“You haven’t been up on the roof.”

“Don’t start any conspiracy theory with me,” Tressman said.

“No conspiracy. It’s that Waterman and those hardcases he’s
got out there with him. I think they’re trying to queer the deal.”

“He admits as much. So what? He’s got nothing. And there’s
nothing in this building that would advance his cause in any way. If
I was going to worry about anybody, I’d be more inclined to worry
about Loomis.”

Hand leaned down and put both hands on the desk. “I don’t get
it. Loomis wants the deal to go through as bad as we do.”

“Maybe they’re getting nervous. Maybe they’re checking up on
us. We blew it once before. Maybe they don’t trust us to get it
done.”

Eight-fifty-four A.M. Another voice. June the secretary. “Is
Sheriff Hand back there?”

“Be right out,” Hand called.

“Ten days,” Tressman intoned. “Just ten days.”

I wrote the word
Loomis
in my notebook, followed by three
question marks. I knew I’d heard it before, but I couldn’t
remember where.

MONDAY 9: A.M.

CAMERA 3—WESTONNancy Weston drummed her fingers on the desk as
she spoke. “I assure you, Mr. Wade,” she said, “this is all
some terrible mistake.” Her face was twisted into a knot. “You
have no right to speak to me that way. I want to talk to your
supervisor.” She listened briefly. “A criminal…a
criminal…why…what? Attorney. I don’t need an attorney. I keep
telling you…what date?” She pulled a pencil from the desk drawer
and wrote directly on the blotter. “Friday the twentythird. One
P.M. Now, just a moment,” she began indignantly.

“I will not be…hello…hello…” She returned the phone to
its cradle and began to massage the bridge of her nose.

I turned to Carl. “George’s doing good with his IRS agent
routine,” I said.

“Sure got her panties in a wad.”

All the chickens were in the coop. Polster was in his office going
through his mail. Her honor the mayor was dictating letters. Time for
the vehicle transmitters. I tore a page from my notebook and handed
it to Kurtis.

“Those are the makes, models and license numbers. The parking
slots are labeled. Take Robby with you. Nobody’s seen either of you
guys.”

“Make sure you get the numbers right,” Carl growled.

“I’ll use my fingers,” Robby assured him. MONDAY :06 A.M.

CAMERA 4—POLSTERPolster had been dialing and redialing the phone
for ten minutes before he finally got through. “Yes…hello. Yes.
I’ve been having trouble getting through.” He listened for a
moment. “What do you mean, I don’t know what trouble is? What
kind of attitude is that? I’m calling to report a mistake.”

Listening again. “Of course it’s a mistake, we don’t…what
did you call me? Why, I don’t believe…what kind of language is
that for a public servant to…” He groped for a pen and a small
white notepad. “I want your name. Do you…January twenty-fifth,
eleven-thirty A.M.,” he recited. “I’ll tell you what I think. I
think you’ve been drinking. I can hear it in your voice. I’m
going to report…Oh…a stroke, you say. No. No…I didn’t mean.
Of course I wouldn’t…not a person with a disability…hello…hello.”
He hung up the phone. I dialed the Zoo and got Terry.

“Terry, it’s Leo. How drunk is he?”

“Twisted,” he answered without hesitation.

“Get him for me, will you?”

He dropped the phone once before getting it up to his head. “’Lo.”

“George. You hangin’ in there?”

“Course,” he slurred. “Reamed ’em all good. ‘Ceptin’
the mayor lady. Her lawyer he called. Said he was comin’ to the
office.”

“Good job,” I said. “I think we best fix the phone to hold
now.”

“I dunno how, Leo I—”

“Give me Terry, will you?”

“Whatsamatter, you doan wanna talk to ol’ Georgie anymore?”

“Just give me Terry, will ya?”

“Ya think you’re too good for—”

On the other end, Terry must have been listening. I heard him say,
“Here, gimme that.” Followed by some grunting, and then he was on
the line. “Leo.”

“Shut him down,” I said.

“Just rings or the recording and on hold?”

“On hold.”

“Will do.”

MONDAY :09 A.M.

CAMERA 1—TRESSMANHe’d been on the phone for twenty minutes
discussing an easement over city property for a driveway when his
secretary popped her head in the door.

“Someone to see you, Mr. Tressman.”

He waved her off. “Not today,” he said. “Hold everything.”

She seemed pleased when she turned and headed back out to the
anteroom. A minute later, however, she reappeared.

“She says it’s important.”

Tressman held the phone tight against his chest. “What did I
just tell you? Didn’t I just this minute tell you—” Another
voice now.

“I’m sorry to be such an inconvenience,” Narva said.
Tressman looked up from his desk. If sharks smiled, that’s what
they’d look like.

“Come in,” he said. “Come in.”

He spoke into the phone. “I’ll get back with you this
afternoon, Herman. No, no…something’s come up. Yes…yes…”

He returned the phone to its cradle.

He scurried out from behind the desk, and for a second was lost
from view. He reappeared with a red leather chair, which he set close
to the desk. “Please,” he said. Narva looked as good from the top
down as she did from any other angle. She looked like she had in the
Five Spot. All-American, drop-dead gorgeous.

Tressman looked to his right. “That’s all, June,” he said.

“Close the door, would you, please? Thanks.” The door clicked
shut.

Although it had never occurred to me before, as I watched her
work, it became obvious that acting must be a major part of what she
did for a living. The girl was too smooth for it to be any other way.
She put it on him just the way we’d discussed it.

Here in town at the behest of a major corporation. Not at liberty
to drop names. Just doing a little research on property. The Springer
property and adjoining non-Indian land at the west end of the county.
He told her about the sale. She nodded knowingly. “Just in case,”
she said with a Mona Lisa smile.

The more Tressman tried to convince her that he had a done deal
with Claudia Springer, the more often she said, “You never know,”
and gave him that little I-know-somethingyou-don’t smile. It drove
him nuts. Twenty minutes after she’d walked in his door, Tressman
volunteered to take her down to the clerk’s office and help her
find the records she needed. She blushed and told him she didn’t
want to be a bother. He reckoned how he’d muddle through.

The cell phone at Carl’s elbow rang. He picked it up. “Okay.
Lemme see.” He reached to his left and switched on a monitor. The
rear of the mayor’s Cadillac was visible as it rolled toward the
highway. Just as the image began to get fuzzy, the view shifted. The
picture was now coming from the front. We watched as the car stopped
at the sign and then turned left. The lens followed as the mayor gave
it some gas and disappeared around the nearest bend in the road.
“Works great,” Carl said into the phone. As Robby talked into his
ear, Carl motioned for me to turn around. I did. I slipped my head
into the earphones for camera four. MONDAY : A.M.

CAMERA 4—POLSTEREven in black and white, Emmett Polster’s face
was bright red. “It’s not esoteric like bridges or sewer systems.
They’re going to know right away.”

“You really think he’s got state inspectors coming in on
Friday?”

“Damn right I do.”

“I think he’s bluffing.”

Polster paced the room, biting on his thumb. “It’s pretty
goddamned easy for you to think that. It’s not your ass in the
wringer.”

“Will you relax?”

Polster raised his voice. “No, goddammit, I won’t.”

Nancy Weston put a finger to her lips and nodded toward the
secretary in the other room.

Polster wasn’t impressed. “I could lose everything.”

“You’re not going to lose anything.”

“I’m not going down alone,” Polster insisted.

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Weston insisted.

“I’ve got a lot going on. I don’t need this shit.”

Weston raised a hand from the desk. “Believe me, Emmett. We’ve
all got a lot going on today.” Before Polster could respond, Weston
changed the subject. “You hear about the burglary?” Polster said
he hadn’t, so she filled him in. MONDAY : A.M.

CAMERA 1—TRESSMANSeated behind his desk again with a small smile
twitching on his lips. The phone rang. “Yeah,” he said. “I
know. I took her down there.”

Carl rolled past me, swung around and handed me the earphones for
Camera Three. I checked the monitor. Nancy Weston on the phone. I had
one voice in each ear. I was moving my head back and forth like I was
watching a tennis match.

“I don’t understand what she’s doing here,” Weston said.

“I think the Springer woman has received a counter-offer. I
think they’d like to find some way out of the deal with us.”

“How could they do that?” Weston demanded.

“They can’t,” he said.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Because I’ve got my ass covered,” she said. Long silence.

“Oh?”

“That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Relax,” Tressman advised. “Really, Nancy. Nine and a half
days. That’s it. Period. The rest won’t matter.”

Nancy Weston sat at her desk, her arms folded across her chest,
staring at the wall. Tressman pushed one of the buttons on his phone
and a moment later, June came in through the door. “Yes?”

“I’m going to have to cancel for tomorrow night,” he said
quietly.

When she came into camera range, her hands were on her hips. “I
got a sitter.”

“Can’t be helped,” Tressman said.

She backed up out of range. “You think it’s easy?”

“I didn’t say—” he began.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to arrange to be
away? For me to get a sitter? To make excuses to my mother?”

Tressman took the offensive. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but
there’s quite a bit going on around here this morning.”

His phone rang once and then again.

Tressman looked up at June. “I need to take this call,” he
said. The door banged hard enough for me to hear the glass shake in
the frame.

Suddenly, his office door banged open.

“I’m going to lunch,” June announced.

I listened to the sound of her heels receding and then grabbed my
car keys.

“Where you going?” asked Carl.

“Think I’ll join her for lunch,” I said.

THE COUNTRY CORNER WAS HOPPING. WIDE-HIPPED waitresses in light
green uniforms crisscrossed the room with platters of food, water
pitchers and coffeepots. The clash of silverware rang above the low
roar of conversation and shouts from the kitchen area. A veil of
smoke hung above the room at about eyebrow level.

June had managed to find a booth at the rear of the restaurant,
near the arch that led into the lounge. She looked up from her french
fries as I slid into the booth across from her. “Oh…hi,” she
said around a mouthful of fries. She swallowed, washed it down with a
gulp of strawberry milkshake and then wiped her lip.

“What are you doing here?”

“You told me this was a good lunch spot, so I was in the
neighborhood…you know, up at the City building…and I thought I’d
check it out.”

She smiled the same tentative smile I’d seen before. Up close,
she was younger than I’d imagined. Twenty-six or seven. Pretty but
blank in the amorphous manner of young girls. At this point in her
life, she could safely be referred to as ample. Literally and
figuratively a handful. Ten years down the road and we were talking
heavy equipment.

“Saw your boss in the records office,” I said. Half hidden
behind a hamburger, her face clouded. “Going over platt maps with
a…if I might be so bold as to say…a very attractive woman.”

“I suppose,” she said grudgingly. “If you like that type.”

She took it out on the burger, tearing off a chunk and grinding it
between her teeth.

A waitress appeared at my elbow. Name tag read Betty.

“Whatcha need, honey?”

“What’s good?”

“Burgers ain’t bad,” she said.

I ordered a cheeseburger and a Coke. Hold the fries. I leaned over
the table toward June. “I thought I heard that Tressman was
married.” Her eyes widened, so I kept at it.

“Because if you don’t mind me saying…when I saw him today,
he surely had the look of a man on the prowl.” Eyes wider. Chewing
faster. “I could be wrong, of course…and you know…woman like
that…who could blame him?”