'What happened here?' I asked.
He peered at me for a moment before answering. 'We had a double shooting at the motel up the street,' he said. A guy caught his stripper girlfriend in bed with the DA, Phil Coakley – you know, the guy whose face is all fucked up? He killed his girlfriend but only shot Coakley in the arm. What I hear, Coakley tackled him and knocked him out. Police have the guy now.'
"The dead girl's a stripper named Susie?'
'Yeah, Susie Baker. The guy who killed her is Paul Frechotte. You know them?'
'Sort of. Not really. Any idea how Frechotte knew they were in the motel room?'
He shook his head slowly. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.
'You look familiar,' he said. 'Do I know you?'
While we were talking, his buddy stood behind him grinning like an idiot. At some point, I guess he recognized me. His grin disappeared and he seemed to sober up. He nudged Carl and leaned over so he could say something in his ear. I could see recognition flash in Carl's eyes. Without saying a word, the two of them moved away from me. As I looked around the bar I could see others had recognized me. They weren't staring at me outright, but I could see them sneaking glances at me. I could see other people being nudged and whispered to.
The bartender had just brought me my beer. I dropped five bucks on the bar and got out of there.
When I got to my car my hands were shaking. I had to sit for a few minutes before I could pull out of the parking lot. I kept thinking of Susie, of how sweet and innocent she had seemed, and how much, even with her clothes off, she had looked like a high school cheerleader. I imagined how the scene at the motel went down. I could imagine Frechotte breaking in on them, gun already drawn, shooting Susie first, and then shooting wildly as Phil rushed him. It probably didn't take much for Phil to knock him out. I knew, at least at some level, that I was responsible for what happened. I knew how Frechotte found out about that motel room.
I drove straight to the county jail in Bradley. A roaring in my head drowned out the road noise. I could barely hear anything above it. And I could barely see where I was driving. It was as if I had blinders on. As if I had no peripheral vision. The little
I could see was clouded by a red haze. Somehow, though, I got there without cracking up. When I got out of my car, I stood and waited while the roaring in my head subsided and the haze faded. Then I went inside and searched for Morris.
I found him in his office. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on his desk and his eyes closed. When he heard me, his eyelids lifted so he could peer at me.
'You know where Dan is?' I asked.
'Probably at the crime scene. Things didn't work out the way you planned, did they, Joe?'
'Morris, I had nothing to do with this. I swear.'
His eyelids dropped a bit, but otherwise his expression of complete indifference remained unchanged.
'Susan Baker was only twenty-two,' he croaked out in a tired voice. 'Are you happy with yourself?'
'Morris, I swear, I didn't know any of this was going to happen-'
'Of course you did, Joe. Phil has something on you and Dan, doesn't he?'
I shook my head.
'That's why you arranged to meet Dan here yesterday,' he said. 1 didn't arrange that-'
He held up a hand to stop me. It looked like it took all the strength he had.
'No, please,' he said. 'Don't embarrass yourself like this, Joe. Somehow you found out about that girl and Phil. You arranged to meet Dan here. Then the two of you planned what happened today. Except all you accomplished was causing an innocent girl to be killed. Because Phil survived with only a flesh wound.'
'Morris, I had no idea about any of this.'
'Joe, please.' He showed me a sad smile. I actually thought of us as friends. I actually thought that there was something of substance inside you, that you could reform yourself and live a decent life. But I was wrong. We're through, Joe. We're not friends anymore.'
He let his eyelids close. As far as he was concerned I wasn't there.
I stood frozen, wanting to explain to him how wrong he was, but I realized there was nothing to explain. I turned and left.
I didn't know what else to do so I drove back to my motel room, dialed Dan's beeper, and left a message. The waiting was murder. I was feeling so jumpy and sick inside. All the damage I was causing was adding up. I had already put two boys in the hospital and now this. Because of me a young girl lay dead in the morgue. And of course there was more than that. There was Phil. And I guess in some way, Clara. Even my own parents…
I tried watching TV to get my mind off it all, but I couldn't lie still. I had too much nervous energy. Every few minutes I'd have to get off the bed and do pushups or pace the room. I needed to get a hold of Dan and have him explain what happened. Of course I knew what happened, but I needed him to explain it.
Around a quarter to six there was a soft knock on my door. I opened it and saw Dan standing there. He stepped into the room quickly, closing the door behind him. I watched as he walked over to a chair and sat down. He tilted the chair back so it leaned against the wall, and loosely clasped his hands behind his head. As he looked up at me, he smiled pleasantly, but his coloring was pasty and he looked worn out around the eyes and mouth. He remarked about what a fleabag I had picked.
'You think with the money I gave you you could've picked a better place, Joe. Jesus, I've been in gas station rest rooms that I'd rather sleep in,' he said.
I could feel myself trembling as I stared at him. I had an urge to kick his chair legs out from under him and send him crashing to the floor. I started to say something, but forced my mouth shut. I didn't trust myself yet to talk.
'You probably heard about what happened today,' he said. 'What a mess. I've been up to my ears in it all day. I got here as soon as I could.'
I asked him how Frechotte ended up at that motel.
He made a face. 'Come on, Joe, after what you told me? You should know the answer to that.'
'I'd like to hear it anyway.'
'You would, huh? Okay, Joe, I'll tell you what you already know. I had one of my boys follow Susie this morning. When she went to the motel, and later when Coakley showed his ugly face, I called Frechotte and told him about it. Anonymously, of course, and from a payphone. If he wasn't such a fucking jerk-off our problems would be over now.'
'You sonofabitch.'
'And why's that?'
'You had no goddam right.'
'What are you talking about? Joe, I did only what you wanted me to do.'
'I never wanted you to do that.’
‘Really?'
I didn't answer him. He was still smiling pleasantly, and as he looked at me, a glint of genuine amusement shone in his eyes.
'Joe,' he said, 'who are you trying to kid? Why'd you tell me about Coakley banging that broad?'
'I already told you why the other day.'
'Yeah, right. You expect me to believe that cock-and-bull story you gave me? That you only wanted me to follow Coakley around so I could catch him in the act and file a morals charge against him? You think I'm an imbecile?'
Whatever was in his eyes died. As he looked at me, his smile tightened into something vicious. He stood up and moved close to me. Close enough that I could smell his breath.
'You want to take a swing at me, is that it, Joe?' he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 'Well, go right ahead, but I promise you I want to kick your teeth in a hell of a lot more than you could imagine. What happened today is your fault. Don't kid yourself otherwise. If you had taken care of things like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have had to send that puffed-up piece of crap Frechotte to that motel room.'
He was breathing heavily, his breath stale and oppressive, a bit like rotting garbage. I had to force myself to keep from stepping away from him. Then the moment passed. His eyes came back to life and his smile loosened into something more recognizable. He shook his head as if to indicate that I was nuts, and then sat back in the chair and crossed his legs.