We were off the LIE and the sky was dark when I woke up. I peeked over at MacClough, but he caught me.
“Up for the home stretch, huh?” He rubbed the back of my neck.
“I guess.” I was so articulate when I awoke from sleep.
“Listen, I’m goin’ away for a little while. Will you keep an eye on the Scupper for me?”
“Where you-”
“I don’t know where I’m goin’,” he said, “but I’m burnt. It’s time to take a rest away from here.”
“How long?”
“For chrissakes, Klein! Will you watch the Scupper for me or what?”
“You know I will,” I threw my hands up in surrender. “What the fuck else do I have to do? Besides, it’s a better gig than my agent could get me.”
MacClough thought that was very funny. He didn’t restart the conversation until we were nearly at the Sound Hill village limits.
“I didn’t kill him, Dylan,” was how he began.
“Hernandez?”
“Yeah, Hernandez. You were right about the rolled-up newspaper. I did rough him up pretty good, but he just wouldn’t tell me where the Boatswain kid was.”
“So you used your second gun, pulled out all but one cartridge, and stuck it in his mouth.”
“Just like I learned in school,” he admitted. “Even though he thought it was a random spin of the cylinder, I knew the bullet was in the last chamber. That gave me five shots to play with.”
“He talked.”
“But he didn’t give the kid up easy.” MacClough let go of the wheel and held up his right hand, fingers spread wide. “It took all five empties before he gave me the location.”
“So before I could tell him he was under arrest and that he had the right to remain silent, he. .” MacClough put his right index finger in his mouth and pulled a make-believe trigger. “He clamped his thumbs around my trigger finger and swallowed the bullet.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that, as God is my witness. Boom! He gave up the kid and offed himself. For more than twenty years, I wondered about that.”
“You don’t wonder anymore?” I asked.
“No, not anymore.”
“Why not?”
He deflected my question. “You are one nosy Jewish son of a bitch. It doesn’t matter why I don’t wonder anymore. I just don’t. I didn’t want to go away before I told you about Hernandez.”
“What about my brother?”
“Later for your brother.” He parked in front of the Scupper. “I’ve got to check on something. C’mon in and let me buy ya a beer.”
I thought about resisting, but I knew he’d drag me in by my ears if I put up too much of a stink. When MacClough wants to buy you a beer, you let him. It looked dark and pretty dead inside, sort of like I’d felt since Kira’s murder. Yet, just the sight of the place, no matter how bereft of patrons, brightened my spirits. It lifted me up like the smell of a Nathans hot dog. Walking through the front door, I noticed the bar really was dark and empty. I shrugged my shoulders. For all I knew this could be one of MacClough’s lame promotions: Hide and go seek night! All lite beers half price if you can find them in the dark.
“Surprise!” someone shouted.
The lights came up as did about twenty heads from behind the bar. My brothers and sisters-in-law were there. Zak and the other kids, too. Guppy came out of the kitchen with Valencia Jones on his arm. Detective Fazio and Sergeant Hurley, looking fine in black jeans, boots, and work shirt, were seated at a booth. Sure I noticed Hurley. I was grieving, not dead myself. All of Sound Hill’s usual suspects were on hand as well. Even Larry Feld had deigned to come and I was never happier to see the prick. But I was most shocked at the presence of my agent, Shelley Stickman.
“Dylan, Dylan, Dylan.” He ran up to me smiling like he had a stale croissant stuck in his lips. “I got news.”
“You got news, Shelley?” I was so enthusiastic I nearly fell back asleep.
“Sure I got news. What da ya think, this is a welcome back from the funeral party?”
“You’re an asshole, Shelley.”
“Sure I’m an asshole,” he said straight-faced. “It’s a pre-requisite in my line of work.”
“Get to the point, Shelley.”
“Moviemax bought the rights. They’re not crazy about the title, but for what they paid, they’re allowed not to like the title. Sure,” he winked, “the thing will probably never get made, but who cares?”
“You’re right, Shelley,” I said, shaking his hand unconsciously, “who cares?”
“Sure, bust my balls, but I got a heart. It’s just not good for me to show the bastards I’ve got to deal with for you. I’m sorry about the girl.”
“Thanks, Shelley.”
“Ten percent is my thanks, but you’re welcome anyway.”
God, he was such a putz. Polonius was his role model. Maybe later we could get him to stand behind a curtain and the rest of us could play Hamlet. Doesn’t everyone want to play Hamlet once in their career?
Valencia Jones walked up to me with tears in her eyes. Her mouth moved as if she wanted words to come out. None did. That was all right. She didn’t have to say a word for me to understand. We hugged and I told her to give up skiing. She liked that. I sat down with Hurley and Fazio. Hurley excused herself and asked me if she could bring me a drink on the way back. I explained that MacClough would know what I wanted. She drifted into the crowd. As she did, I thanked Fazio for saving our lives.
“Glad to do it.” He smiled. “Almost like being a real cop.”
“You know, MacClough didn’t kill Hernandez,” I said awkwardly.
“I know. He told me all about it.”
“Why’d you help him? MacClough and my brother ruined your career.”
“They didn’t ruin it, they changed it. And I helped him, because he needed help. I don’t hold what your brother might have done against you or your nephew. I’m an honorable man. Anyways, he helped me solve Caliparri’s murder.”
Confused, I wondered: “You’re not bitter?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What are you saying?”
He put his face close to mine. “Listen, MacClough came to me and asked for help. It wasn’t complicated. I was just supposed to keep tabs on him when he went back to Riversborough. He figured he needed somebody to watch his flank. Thinking ahead, we arranged a meeting spot in case he got jammed up. If he needed it, I’d wire him for sound. IAD cops are good with wires. I hedged my bets and let the DEA in on our little arrangements. MacClough ran. We met. I wired him. We got the evidence. You got your nephew. All MacClough did for me was answer some questions, questions that have eaten my guts out for more than twenty years. Whether I liked the answers I got didn’t really matter. It was that I got them. That’s all. The past doesn’t change. The hurt don’t go away.” He grabbed his belly. “The bitterness is still in me, but maybe I can sleep a little bit now.”
Fazio stood up as Hurley returned with my drink. She was nursing a glass of champagne. She seemed ill at ease when she sat down.
“I know you’re grieving, but. .” She cleared her throat, hesitated, her face reddening. “This is awkward, but when you’re feeling better would it be all right with you if I took you to dinner sometime?”
I didn’t answer right away.
“I know this is odd for you,” she said, “but it’s no good for me pretending that I don’t like you. And don’t be valiant or anything. Catching you on the rebound is better than not catching you at all.”
Now I hesitated. “Listen. Sergeant-”
“-Cathy,” she corrected.
“I don’t know if I’m ready, Cathy.”
“That’s okay,” she lied.
“Maybe some other time.”
“Please, I’d like that.”
As she excused herself, I found myself reaching for her hand.
“What is it?” she wondered.
“I think I changed my mind,” I said. “Is that invitation for dinner still on the table?”
“Sure.”
“Give me two weeks, okay?”
“Two weeks?” She winked. “I can wait two weeks.”