“Don’t ask too many questions,” Nanny said.
“Then tell me what the hell is going on here!”
“Leave it alone. You don’t want to know,” Nanny said.
“Not only do I want to know, since my son’s involved, I have every right to know.”
Nanny glared back in silence.
CHAPTER 9
Marvin dabbed at his forehead with a short sleeve. Even though it was after eight and the sun was getting close to falling behind the mountains, a pool of perspiration was gathering in the well where his belly and breasts met. He wondered if the rumours about prisons were true. After what Lester wrote, and what they helped Bob steal, Marv figured it was only a matter of time before he found out about jails first hand.
The awning out front of Buster’s Ice Cream Shoppe provided no shade. A blue neon light winked on: ALL ELVIS. Marvin watched the cars pushing through the midday air on the four lanes of Parkdale Boulevard and thought about his recent fear of enclosed spaces. He’d gone inside, seen the jukebox, walls covered with velvet paintings of Elvis, a row of freezers and walked back outside. He closed his eyes, listened to the hum of tires.
The door to Buster’s opened and Lester was followed by, “A hunk, a hunk, of burnin’ love.” The door closed. The music died. Lester handed his brother an ice cream, “Double rocky road.”
Marvin took the cone and licked its cool chocolate. “I thought he said one.”
Les sat down. He leaned back. The wood complained. He eyed his double-decker vanilla, “One what?”
“One million. Newspapers said Bob took three million.”
“We’ve been over this.” Lester closed his eyes.
“He told us one.”
Les licked his ice cream.
“We held the phony meetings, set up the phony deal, made the buys. Three million’s gone. It’s only a matter of time before the Mounties come lookin’ for us.” Marv pointed at the road with his ice cream.
Les licked his lips, “That’s why we need to find Bob.”
“I bet he left the country so we could take the blame.” Marvin licked around the cone to get at the melting ice cream.
“Bob said he’d leave our share in a Calgary account. He’d phone us with the number and the branch.”
“You still think we can trust him?”
“Remember how Bob used to brag about writing up his father’s will to screw his brothers and sisters?” Lester said.
“Yeah,” Marv said.
“Bob’s always screwin’ somebody.”
“Like he tired to screw the kid?” Marvin wrapped his mouth mouth around ice cream.
“Hey, nothin’s been proved.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Marvin said.
“Look, we gotta keep our minds on what’s at hand.”
“Like how much we’re gonna get?”
“And how we got somethin’ on Bob cause we know about every crooked deal he’s pulled over the last 30 years. Besides, we got Leona squirmin’. Just give her a couple of days to get worked up and she’ll talk,” Lester said.
“Think so?”
“You gotta think positive.” Les tapped his temple with a forefinger.
“And if we go back there, the old bag’s gonna call the cops.”
“Think!” Lester tapped his forefinger against his brother’s skull. “You just have to remember.”
“Remember what?” Marv said.
“What Bob used to say.”
“Well?” Marv felt hopeful for the first time since waking up even though he had no idea what Lester was talking about.
“The kid has a grandfather.”
“The crazy one? The one who bought that sex doll?”
“That’s the one,” Lester said.
“Don’t you have one of those in your closet at home?”
“Shut up about that, I told you to forget it you shithead!”
Marv took a long thoughtful lick of the ice cream and waited.
“So, we lay off the old bag. She knows us and carries a grudge. But the letter is gonna make her twitchy.”
“Like the time we cut the tires on her car when Judy ran away?” Marvin said.
“Stay with me, Marv. That happened a long time ago.”
“How did she know it was us anyway?”
“Look!” Lester poked his brother between the eyes with his forefinger, “The crazy old bastard grandfather lives a block away from Leona. I’ll bet he knows something.”
“So we watch the old man?”
“You got it.”
A grey Mercedes drove past and Marvin smiled. “Gonna get me one of those.”
“That’s more like it. Keep dreamin’ about what you’re gonna do with your share.”
Tuesday, August 1
CHAPTER 10
Lane had the passenger and driver’s windows rolled down. Might as well enjoy the heat, it doesn’t last long, he thought. At 80 kph, the wind blowing through the open window clutched at the lapel of his jacket. He looked out along Barlow Trail. It had to be one of the prettiest roadways in the city. Approaching the airport, it was dotted with trees. A bike path ran along the west side. The sun made it appear as if the pavement was liquid. On his left, an Air Canada jet taxied. He turned onto Airport Road aiming for the parkade at the northeast corner of the terminal. The Lincoln was found at the bottom level, he thought.
He’d guessed it must have been parked sometime after three. The digital clock told him it was 2:30.
He eased right into the bowels of the parkade. Lane watched for an opening in the rows of vehicles. He managed to angle in between a Ford pickup and Nissan sedan. Must be close to where the Lincoln was found, he thought.
The hum of the electric windows was unnaturally loud as he closed them. Lane opened the door and ducked, leery he might scuff his scalp on the concrete. While dropping coins into the meter, he watched to see if anyone was sitting on a nearby patch of grass. People established patterns they didn’t think much about but those patterns could help Lane get the answers he needed.
The blast of a horn caused him to look left. A taxi pulled out in front of a bus and the driver of a van had his palm jammed onto the horn. Wheels locked and tires screamed. Lane felt the ominous collective intake of breath as passersby waited. Lane winced. It seemed the vehicles must collide. Then the taxi sped away unscathed.
INDEPENDENT CAR RENTALS, caught his eye. It was under the cover of the car park. He walked toward the parking space where the Lincoln had been found. Checking his notebook, he read, “Swatsky’s Lincoln found at 7 p.m. Tuesday.” He looked through the glass front of the rental car agency. A man and woman faced one another behind the counter. The door was propped open with a wooden wedge. The man’s hair was cut short. Hers was black and shoulder length.
Lane got close enough to hear the man, “You asked, so I told you.”
“You’re sure?” she said.
Lane heard lack of conviction in her voice.
The man said, “You wanted to hear the honest truth.”
Lane rubbed his top lip to hide a smile.
“Ya, but.” The woman shook her head to say no.
“You ask for the truth and when you get it, you don’t want it.” The man put his hands up to signal surrender.
She said, “Men,” and turned to face Lane as he stepped inside the door. “May I help you?”
Lane read her name tag, TRACEY, and said, “I’m Detective Lane.”
Tracey put her hands on the counter and Lane noted the wedding band on her left hand. She looked left at the man and Lane read his name tag, GRAHAM. “It’s about the Lincoln?” Graham started to smile, stopped at a grin.
Another wedding band, Lane noticed. “If you’re talking about the Lincoln belonging to Robert Swatsky, then, yes.”
Tracey said, “He’s the guy who stole three million and tried to rape his nephew, right?”
“He’s a suspect in those crimes,” Lane said.
Graham snorted to indicate the verdict was already in.