The bartender behind me bent down behind the bar and popped back up with a pump-action shotgun, which he cycled as he stood. ‘Drop the gun,’ he said.
I could feel him pointing the gun at my back. I could feel the hole the shotgun would blast through me.
‘I’ll kill him,’ I said. ‘You drop that shotgun, barkeep.’ I kept my gun levelled on Bouvert, looking straight into his truculent eyes. I think I saw beads of sweat form on his forehead.
‘Protect the kid, Mr. James. Don’t be an imbecile. Look at all the bodies that are piling up. I know you don’t give a shit about your own life, but think of the delivery driver. You can shoot me and then you get shot and then my friend here,’ he said, motioning toward the bar, ‘will go outside and kill the delivery driver.’
‘Who killed Gerald Andrews?’
‘Does it really matter to you?’
‘Yes. Who killed Gerald Andrews?’
‘For argument’s sake, let’s say it’s your friend Elaine. But in reality there were several forces that wanted Gerald Andrews dead. Is that a satisfactory answer?’
‘Not at all. Why did you kill O’Meara?’
‘I did no such thing,’ said Bouvert.
‘Let me shoot this fucking guy,’ said the barkeep.
‘Let’s not be too hasty,’ said Bouvert. ‘I’m confident Mr. James will come to his senses.’
‘You made a deal with the Devil, Bouvert, and one thing about the Devil — ’
‘Mr. James. Ich sagte ja, dass die ganze Geschichte zum Teufel gehen wird.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I know what you’re about to say, He always comes to collect …
‘Right. You’ve heard that before.’
‘At some point, we all make our deals. Now we find ourselves vis à vis. This is your turn, Mr. James. Save yourself and the boy and move on. All the people who were hurt were hurting others, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseam. I don’t think innocent people should be hurt. Save the boy. Besides, you’ll walk away with twenty-five thousand dollars.’
‘You’ll leave the kid alone … ’
‘We’ll forget he exists.’
‘How can I trust you?’
‘Do you have a choice?’ Bouvert motioned for me with his hands to lower the gun. His face was now shiny with sweat. ‘You have photos of me paying O’Meara. Keep them. An insurance policy, so to speak. I know I could explain them away, easily, though nevertheless they’d put you in a position where you’d be slightly more difficult to get rid of. So keep them. I’ll let you be. Just disappear.’
‘You’ll forget about the kid.’
‘What kid?’ He smiled.
I lowered the gun.
‘There. Good decision. Now put it on the table and be on your way,’ said Bouvert.
‘I’m taking the gun with me. I’ll leave it outside the restaurant. I’m not walking out of here naked.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘And get your friend to stop pointing that shotgun at my back.’
‘Put down the gun, Giancarlo.’
I walked toward the door.
‘Mr. James … ’
I turned around.
‘You were used, but you are leaving with your life.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s a lot more than a lot of people involved in this imbroglio can say,’ said Bouvert.
27
Before returning to Chez Marine, Darren stopped at a store and picked up a six-pack. We cleaned out the glass from the car. We sat in the parking lot and drank one beer each on the hood of the car.
‘What next?’ said Darren.
‘I’m not sure yet. But I’ll leave town. Go somewhere no one knows me for a little while. But I’m leaving half the money with you.’
‘Do you think it’s okay, that we’re taking the money?’
‘I don’t know what else to do with it. And I’ll need something to live off while in exile. I can’t go back to my place.’
‘Well, you should keep all of it.’
‘Man, I’d feel a lot better if I knew that some of this blood money was paying for your school. And use some of it to replace the window and fix whatever other injuries this car’s sustained,’ I said, smacking the hood for emphasis.
Darren took a swig of beer. ‘So, we’re not turning Bouvert and Adamson in?’
‘No, not yet,’ I said. ‘I don’t think we can make anything stick. Something’s taking its course and we can’t interfere any more than we already have or we’ll be killed. At least right now. We’ll keep the photos. You were right — if they can kill O’Meara with impunity, a police detective, they can kill us. Things need to cool down.’
We drove to the flower shop. Julie had waited up for us. She sat at a table, drinking red wine, and messing around with tarot cards. And I’m pretty sure Schubert’s Piano Trio No. 2 in E Flat Major was playing softly in the background, though it was hard to say for certain. Darren passed me a beer and offered one to Julie, but she just held up her glass of vin rouge. I’d ask her to give me a reading, though I knew she’d just pull up cards XV and O, I thought, the Devil and the Fool, respectively.
‘Are you two okay?’ she asked.
‘We’re okay,’ said Darren. ‘No injuries sustained.’
‘What happened?’
‘They sh — ’
‘Nothing,’ I said, stopping Darren. ‘It was a bust.’
Julie looked at Darren and me and smiled delicately, I thought. I drank back some beer.
‘I should be going home soon,’ I said and yawned. ‘Long night.’
‘I’ll give you a lift,’ said Darren.
‘Thanks, man.’
‘I can drop you off first, Julie.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Okay,’ said Darren to Julie. ‘Allons-y, allons-o.’
Julie didn’t live too far from the shop, and of course I wasn’t going home. For all intents and purposes, I thought, I didn’t have a home. I’d decided I’d go east. I’d go to the coast and lie low for a while. I’d work on my case notes. I’d get some badly needed rest. I’d escape suffocating, soul-sucking people, I thought, for a while at least. We pulled up to Julie’s walkup, with its black iron spiral staircase and small garden out front.
‘Nice to meet you, Bob,’ said Julie, and I turned around and looked in the back seat and she was smiling. ‘See you soon.’
‘À bientôt,’ I said (I hope, I thought).
‘À bientôt, Bob,’ she said and leaned in and kissed both my cheeks lightly. ‘Bye.’
‘Bye,’ we said.
‘Do you want another drink for the road?’ said Darren.
‘What are you thinking?’
‘Chez Carlos … ’
‘I really should be hittin’ the trail.’
‘What about the bar in the train station?’
‘Naw. That place is dead trousers. Just drop me at the metro up here. It’s dangerous for you to be seen with me right now.’
‘Am I gonna hear from you?’
‘Yes. Soon. I’ll write, or call. I’ve got your card.’
‘Bob, man, thanks for everything,’ said Darren.
We pulled up to the metro stop. ‘There’s a little over twelve grand in the glovebox. Don’t forget to pay for any damages to the car. Be well, comrade, and thank you for all your help. You’re a good detective, Darren.’
‘Thank you. But no one’s getting punished and you have to skip town. I mean, as far as the case goes, we failed.’
‘Well, yes, probably,’ I said. ‘But we know more about it than we did in the beginning, I think.’
‘Maybe.’
‘I’ll be in touch and make sure everything’s jake.’