And that led to his introduction to gambling, and it occurred to him that you could run a pretty sizable book with the computer equipment he was using to locate the Caterpillar equipment he was planning to steal… and pretty soon one of his subsidiary partners was running the Cities largest sports book. But hed never put any hits out on anyone, and while the occasional broken bone didnt necessarily make him queasyespecially when the bone wasnt his ownhis Twin Cities attitude toward violence was, Damn it, that sort of thing shouldnt be necessary.
Carl Knox hustled his skinny butt into the showroom. A nice rehabbed Caterpillar 966 wheel loader was on display, with a fresh yellow paint job, just outside through the big front windows where he could admire it. As he walked in, he saw Del Capslock slouching toward the reception desk, where Shirley was concentrating on her gum chewing. Capslock was followed by another man, bigger and darker. Knox knew both the face and the name, though hed never met him.
Mr. Capslock, he called, a smile on his face. The smile was almost genuine, because Capslock usually wanted nothing more than information. Del spotted him, and drifted over, in that odd street-boy sidle of his.
Mr. Knox, he said. He lifted a thumb over his shoulderto the dark man behind him. This is Mr. Davenport.
Mr. DavenportChief DavenportIve heard much about you. Knox beamed.
And Ive heard about you, Lucas said.
What can I do for you gentlemen? Knox asked. A D9 for that gold mine, maybe?
We need you to call up your assholes and have them ask about a firebomb thrown through the window of Weather Karkinnen over in Edina, Lucas said. His voice was friendly enough, and Knox presumed.
My assholes? What
Dont pull my weenie, Knox, Lucas said, and the friendliness was gonesnapwithout transition. This is a serious matter, and if I have to pull down this fuckin warehouse with a crowbar to convince you its serious, Ill call up and get some crowbars.
The hail-fellow disappeared from Knoxs face: How the fuck am I supposed to know about somebody gets a bomb?
You saw it on TV? Del asked.
Saw it on Channel Three, they were talking about the Seed coming after your asses again. I got nothin to do with the Seed…
Were off the Seed, Lucas said. Were looking for a new angle. So we want you to call up all your particular jerk-offs and tell them to start asking around. You can call me at my office in say… four hours. Four hours ought to be enough time.
Jesus Christ, Id need more time than that, Knox said. I cant do nothing in four hours…
We dont have any time. We want to know where this is coming from, and why, Lucas said.
So I can ask
Ask, Lucas said. He held out a business card, and Knox took it. Four hours.
WERE SPINNING OUR WHEELS, LUCAS SAID, AS HE settled behind the wheel of the Porsche.
You know what you gotta do? Del asked.
Lucas shook his head and started the car.
You gotta talk to Weather, Del said. We gotta know that its not coming from her direction, instead of ours.
Cant do it, Lucas said.
Get Sherrill to do it, Del said. Another woman, that oughta be okay.
Ill think about it, Lucas said.
Gotta do it, unless something comes up, Del said. I told the old lady to hang out at her moms tonight. Until we find out.
Del had an improbably good marriage, and Lucas nodded. Good… Goddamnit, I cant go see Weather.
Del didnt answer. He simply stared out the passengerside window, watching the darkening fall landscape go by. Hate this time of year, waiting for winter, he said finally. Cold coming. Wish it was August.
COPS WERE WANDERING IN AND OUT OF LUCAS'S office nobody had anything when Knox called back.
You owe me, Knox said. I came down on everybody, hard.
I said four hours, its been six, Lucas said.
Fuck four hours, Knox said. I had to take six, because in four I wasnt getting anything.
Lucas sat up: So whatd you get in six?
Same thing: nothing, Knox said. And that makes me think that whoever did it is nuts. This isnt aguy, this is some freak. Bet it was a neighborhood kid has the hots for her, or something like that. Cause its coming out of nowhere.
Thanks for nothing, Lucas said.
Hey: I didnt give you nothing, Knox objected. Im telling you serious: Theres nothing on the street. Nothing. Zippo. This was not a pro job, not a gang job, not bikers. This had to be one guy, for his own reasons. Or we woulda heard.
Lucas thought about it for a minute, said, Okay, and dropped the phone on the hook.
What? Sherrill asked. She was parked in a chair across the desk and looked dead tired.
Knox got nothing, says theres nothing on the street.
Hes right.
Damn it. He turned in his chair, staring out the window at the early darkness.
Want me to talk to Weather? Del mentioned something…
Damn it… He didnt answer for a moment, then sighed and said, Im gonna do it.
Want me to come along?
No… well, maybe. Let me talk to her shrink.
ANDI MANETTE WAS ANGRY ABOUT THE INTERVIEW: Youre not helping anything.
Lucass anger flashed right back: Not everything can be resolved by counseling, Dr. Manette. Weve got somebody throwing firebombs, and Ive got cops hiding their wives and kids. Theyre afraid its another comeback from the crazies. I gotta talk to her.
After a moment: I can understand that. Weathers probably at her house right now, salvaging what she can theres smoke in everything. Itd be better if you talked to her here, at my place.
All right. When? But its gotta be soon.
Ill call her. How about… Give us two hours.
Do you want me to bring another cop? I can bring Marcy Sherrill if thatd helpmaybe itd make it seem more official and less personal. If thatd be good.
I dont know if itd make any difference, but bring her along. Maybe itll help.
HE HADNT SEEN WEATHER IN ALMOST AMONTH; AND when Lucas walked in the door of Andi Manettes house, trailed by Sherrill, the sight of her stopped him cold. She was curled in a living room chair, a physical gesture thathe knew too well. She was a small woman, and often curled in chairs like a cat, her feet pulled up, her nose in a book and when she turned toward him, she smiled reflexively and it was almost like everything was… okay.
Then the smile faded, and Sherrill bumped him from the back. He stepped forward and nothing was okay.
Howve you been? he mumbled.
Welclass="underline" the firebomb…
Sorry; stupid question. But you know.
I know: Ive been okay. The smile was long gone now, and her face was tense, her voice controlled. But the firebombdo you think it might be the Seed?
Lucas shook his head, found a chair, sat down. Sherrill was wearing a leather jacket, and she pulled it off to reveal a very large cherry-stocked. 357 Magnum in a black leather shoulder rig. She looked like an S-and-M magazines cover girl. Not the Seed, Lucas said. I talked to their head guy, and weve had feelers out everywhere. Its not the Seed.
A crazy man?
Thats the consensus right now.
Unless youve got something going on that we dont know about, Sherrill interjected. Have you had any serious problems with unhappy patients, or relatives of unhappy patients, or maybe state cases from the psycho hospitals… like that?
Weather frowned, thought for a moment, then shook her head: Not that I know of.
Sherrill leaned forward a bit: I only know you a little bit, and I dont want to step on either your feet or Lucass feet. But how about new relationships? Or men who think you might be interested, who you blew off? Theres usually some kind of emotional basis for a nut attack.
Weather was shaking her head: Nothing like that.
Any kids? Lucas asked. Any teenage boys trying to cut your grass for you, water your lawn? Just hanging around?
No… Lucas, Ive been racking my brains trying tothink of anybody who might do this. Any hint. People from back home, people from the hospital, from the university, cops, but… theres nobody. Not to just come walking up some evening and throw a bomb through the window.