The Way We Die Now (20 page)

"I realize that now, and I'm sorry. But I wasn't sure where I'd be staying. I guess I should've called Noseworthy last night to let you know. But what do you s'pose happened out there? There were no aliens on the farm, and Bock's half-ton is missing, Boggis said."

"I have no idea what happened. As I told you, as soon as I saw the fire, I took off. With no official ID, I couldn't've explained what I was doing out there. You and Brownley already said you couldn't cover me. Did you tell the sheriff anything about me?"

"Of course not! He'd go through the roof if he knew a Miami cop was working in his county."

"Well, don't let him find out, or both of our asses will be in trouble."

"What've you been doing since?"

"Sleeping, reading, and eating skimpy meals here at the guesthouse. How do I get back to Miami?"

"Let me think a minute."

Hoke waited, although he could have suggested several methods.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

"Still here."

"Tell Noseworthy to drive you to Four Corners in Bonita Springs. Trailways stops there, and you can catch the bus back to Miami. He can advance you the money, and I'll pay him back later."

"I'll call him to the phone, and you tell him, Mel. Coming from you, he'll feel better about it. He's already worried about my tab here, even though I told him you'd take care of it."

"Don't worry about the tab--."

"I don't. But Noseworthy does, I suspect."

"Okay, put him on then. And thanks for your efforts, Sergeant. Tell Willie, when you get back, that we're 'kits' now."

"It was nothing, Mel. I got there too late to check into anything. How's your meeting going in Tallahassee?"

"It's a mess so far. Advance planning for the new immigration law. Mostly appointing new committees for studying the possible effects. It's too soon to actually write any state regs, and there are all sorts of loopholes in the law. For example, they're only going to fine an employer who knowingly hires more than twenty illegal aliens, which doesn't make good sense. How do you interpret something like that if he only hires nineteen at a time?"

"I'm sure you'll work something out, Mel. I'll get Noseworthy."

Hoke went into the kitchen and got the innkeeper. Noseworthy was whispering something to his wife. As Noseworthy left to talk to Peoples, she looked at Hoke with her bold blue eyes and pushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. "Is that the call you've been expecting, Mr. Jinks?"

"Yes, rna'am. I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave now. But I've enjoyed my stay, especially the little trays you fixed for me. Be sure you add the meals to my tab."

"I intend to, although, as I told you, we aren't set up for meals other than breakfast. To run a restaurant or a boardinghouse, another license is required. We aren't used to having people stay in their rooms all day either."

"Well, I don't have a car." Hoke shrugged. "And it's too hot to walk around town in the sun."

"So now you're leaving."

"Yes, ma'am. And thanks again. And add a fifteen percent tip on my bill--for the meals, I mean."

"I don't accept tips." Her cheeks colored.

"Why not? My friend will be happy to pay for the extra service." Hoke left the kitchen.

Noseworthy was sitting at the check-in table; his fingers were still touching the phone when Hoke joined him.

"Melvin said I was to drive you to Bonita Springs and buy you a bus ticket to Miami."

"No, Mr. Noseworthy." Hoke shook his head. "He didn't say that. What he said was that you're to drive me to Bonita Springs and advance me money for my trip. I'll buy my own ticket, and I'll need another twenty bucks for essentials."

"What kind of essentials d'you need for a bus ride?"

"Several things, and perhaps a pint of bourbon. I'll get my stuff." Hoke started for the stairs.

"What stuff?"

"Didn't your wife tell you? She cleaned my room. I've got some adhesive tape and a few Tylenols left. And my pistol, of course. I'll be right down."

Noseworthy had a three-year-old chevy station wagon. It was in excellent condition, with only twenty-five thousand miles on the odometer. He didn't turn on the radio, but he occasionally rolled his eyes toward Hoke and looked as if he wanted to ask some questions.

"How much," Hoke said, "did Mel Peoples tell you about me?"

"He didn't tell me anything. He just asked me to take care of you if you showed up at the house. But the way he said it, I didn't think you'd come. At least that was my impression at the time. If you called instead of coming to the guesthouse, he said to phone him right away and get your number."

"Is that all?"

"That's all. But I can't say I'm not curious."

"What do you want to know?"

"I've known Mel Peoples for three years. He's never mentioned you before, and I don't see how a man like you and Mel Peoples ever became friends. No offense, but--"

"None taken, Mr. Noseworthy. But that's easy. I knew Mel up in Tallahassee. He was going to A and M and I was in FSU. I used to get student tickets to the FSU football games, and he scalped them for me. We split the profits sixty-f orty. Those were halcyon days, Mr. Noseworthy. We were young, carefree, and we both had brilliant futures. Ask Mel to tell you about his ticket scalping days sometime."

"He did tell me about that. What do you do now?"

"I'm a retired teacher from Rome, Georgia. I just travel around the state, visiting guesthouses and seeing the sights."

Noseworthy frowned. "If you don't want to tell me, don't tell me."

While Noseworthy sulked, Hoke looked incuriously at the gray-green flatlands of Lee County. A lot of the land near the state road had been cleared for cultivation, and they occasionally passed small herds of Black Angus cattle in fenced fields. There were also developers' billboards as they got closer to Four Corners, advertising low preconstruction prices for new condo complexes that were still in the planning stages. When they passed the billboard advertistising the Bonita Springs dog track, the sign where the dead Haitian's body was purportedly discovered, Hoke shook his head with sudden insight. The mystery of the "dead" Haitian behind the billboard was now explained to his satisfaction, but he still didn't know why Mel Peoples and Willie Brownley had lied to him about it. He would find out, however, when he got back to Miami and talked to Willie, even if he had to twist Willie's arm.

There was no bus station at Four Corners, but there was a fifteen-minute rest stop for passengers at the restaurant, and Hoke could buy his ticket from the cashier. Noseworthy gave him money for the fare and an extra twenty dollars, but he handed the money over reluctantly. He shook hands with Hoke, however, and wished him luck before heading back to Immokalee.

Hoke ordered a breakfast of poached eggs, grits, and milk toast and drank three cups of coffee. He had to wait four hours before the bus for Miami pulled into the lot. He could smoke again, if he didn't inhale too deeply, and he smoked ten Kools while he waited for the bus. He was puzzled by Mel Peoples's sudden departure for Tallahassee and Noseworthy's intuitive feeling that he didn't think that any man named Adam Jinks would show up at his guesthouse. It looked as if Mel had been covering for himself, in case anything happened at Bock's farm, by being four hundred miles away from the area.

Hoke called his house from a pay phone in the Miami bus station. He let the phone ring ten times before he hung up. It was after 9:00 P.M., so someone should have been home. Hoke dialed again, thinking he had inadvertently dialed the wrong number. But no one answered the second time either. No one was home. Not one of the three females in his house would be able to let the phone ring ten times without answering it. As a general rule, one of the girls picked up the receiver by the second or third ring.

Hoke walked to the police station, a dozen blocks away. He took the elevator up to the Homicide Division; but his office was locked, and he didn't have his keys. Captain Slater was night duty officer in charge. Slater wore a black silk suit, a navy blue shirt, and a striped blue and white necktie. His pale, pockmarked face, because of his dark clothes, made him look as if he were recovering from a serious illness, but he always looked this way. Slater looked Hoke up and down, and gave him a lipless smile.

"Back from vacation already? Where'd you go, anyway?" Hoke's right sleeve was scorched slightly, his oversize rolledup trousers were baggy at the knees, and he needed a shave again.

"Just working around the house, Captain. Is Gonzalez around?"

"He's still on days. I haven't seen him for a week or so. Half the time I don't even know what you cold case people are working on."

"That's up to Major Brownley. I report directly to him, as you know, but I'll get permission from him to fill you in if you want me to."

"Never mind. I don't want to know. I've got enough on my plate already. You hear about RodrIgues and Ouintero?"

"What about 'em?"

"Arrested. Both of them. They're both in jail on a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar bond. It should be in the papers tomorrow."

"What happened? They're on your night shift, aren't they?"

Slater nodded. "They held up a crack house in Liberty City. It wasn't the first time, either, but this time IA undercovers were planted and arrested them with their hands out."

"That's hard to believe." Hoke shook his head. "These guys've been in plain clothes for five or six years, and they're both married, with families."

"It's a fucking shame, Hoke. But the money's too easy to get, and there's too much of it out there. And these are Homicide cops. God only knows what the Vice cops are stealing."

"I blame Internal Affairs, Captain. Lieutenant Norbert sits on his ass over there, and he doesn't know half the things that are going on in the department. They should send Norbert back to Traffic, where he belongs."

Slater pulled his thin lips back again. "He managed to get Rodriguez and Quintero. They've been suspended, of course, and that leaves me four detectives short on my night shift. Smitty resigned yesterday, without being asked, and Reynaldo's on a six-month psychiatric leave. He'll never return to duty either. He was cleared at the hearing, but both those boys he shot were under sixteen, and the new chief won't take him back."

"He can fight that with the PBA." Hoke shrugged. "Both those boys he killed had pistols."

"Oh, I don't blame Reynaldo, Sergeant. I would've shot them myself in the same situation, but that makes six he's killed in five years. Six, as you know, is beyond chance. They'll give him a psychiatric disability pension, and he'll be fixed for life. What the hell, Hoke, Reynaldo's got sixteen years in. You take his pension fund money for sixteen years, and add a disability on top of that, and he'll make more retirement money than he would if he stayed for twenty."

"I guess you're right, Captain."

"I know damned well I'm right. I worked out the figures on my calculator."

Hoke shrugged and took out his cigarettes. "Reynaldo's always been a little flaky, if you ask me, but--"

"You can't smoke out here in the bull pen."

Hoke put his pack away. "But Quintero and Rodriguez were good cops."

"'Were' is the word. Can I help you with anything, Hoke?"

"No, sir. I was just looking for Gonzalez, is all. I'm still on vacation. I'll just leave a message in his box and tell him to call me at home tomorrow."

"Okay. I happen to see him, I'll tell him to call you."

Before going downstairs, Hoke put a message in González's box. He checked an unmarked Plymouth out of the motor pool and drove home to Green Lakes. He turned on the radio. Miles Davis was playing "In a Silent Way." Miles Davis hated white people so much he always played with his back to his audiences. But he took their money; he let them buy his records. Hoke switched to a Spanish station. An unhappy baritone was singing about his -corazón-. The Latins all had heart trouble, Hoke thought. He switched off the radio and drove the rest of the way home in silence.

No one was home, the house was dark, and Hoke didn't have his keys. Hoke's Pontiac Le Mans was parked behind Ellita's Honda Civic, and Sue Ellen's motorcycle was chained to the carport support column. He rang the bell several times, but no one answered.

Hoke went next door to Mr. Sussman's house. Hoke hadn't talked to Mr. Sussman for more than a month and wasn't eager to see him now; but Hoke kept an extra set of house keys at the Sussmans', and Sussman had left a set of his at Hoke's for emergency purposes. Mr. Sussman was religious and wore a crocheted yarmulke at all times, even when he was inside his house. The old man had berated Sue Ellen one afternoon for revving up her motorcycle in the yard, and she had told him to go fuck himself. Hoke had talked to him about it and then had to persuade Sue Ellen to apologize. The two families weren't close; but Mrs. Sussman was a nice old lady who made over Pepe whenever she saw the baby with Ellita, and Hoke didn't want to have a feud going with his neighbors.

Mr. Sussman, wearing his skullcap, answered the door when Hoke knocked and peered at him with watery blue eyes. He had a pointed chin, and his cropped gray beard made him look like a billy goat. He took off his reading glasses but didn't invite Hoke inside.

"I don't have my keys with me, Mr. Sussman, and no one seems to be home."

"They all left, that's why. I'll see if I can find your keys." He closed the door, and Hoke waited on the porch. Hoke lighted a cigarette and smoked while he waited. Sussman came back with the keys, unlocked the screen door, and handed them to the detective.

"What do you mean they all left? Both cars are still there."

"They left with that man who moved in across the street. About ten this morning. They were all dressed up, and they had suitcases and the baby, too. They got into this stretch limousine--a big blue Lincoln--and drove away."

"The man across the street, too?"

"That's what I said. There was a man driving the limo, and he was wearing a dark suit, but if he was a chauffeur, he didn't wear a cap. Sarah and me both watched 'em leave from the yard. I'd been on the phone for an hour or so, lining up volunteers for Super Sunday--that's for Federation, you see--and Sarah'd just got back from the store with Bumble Bee."