A bomb, he thought, thinking the cardboard ceiling would collapse. He saw the faint blue smoke, smelled the powder, saw the gun in Bobby Andes’s hand held up as he jumped off the step running after Lou. That was Susan who was screaming. He saw her, she had picked up a carving knife, while Ingrid held the dishpan full of soapy water cocked and ready to throw.
Outside another explosion, then another. He ran out to the porch, saw the man standing on the path with hands extended aiming the gun, looked and saw one man running along the river’s edge. One more shot while the man kept going and disappeared down the path by the river, behind the trees. Then Tony noticed the other man lying on the grass near the river.
There was Susan on the porch beside him, gasping, and Ingrid wiping her hands on a towel. There was Bobby Andes on the path, small and fat, tucking in his shirt. He was looking down the river to the woods, where the man had escaped.
“Get the keys,” he said. “We gotta catch that guy.”
“Wait, Bobby,” Ingrid said.
Tony’s car keys were in his pocket. The man on the grass was Lou. He was groaning, trying to get up, his hands on the ground, but he couldn’t make it. He was looking at them, calling. “Somebody help me, please.”
Ingrid went into the house and came back with a towel. Bobby Andes was staring down the river or thinking.
“I’m hurt, man,” Lou said.
“It’s no use,” Bobby said. “We’ll get him later.” He looked at Tony. “Christ. Why didn’t you shoot him?”
A quick answer jumped into his head, “That’s your job,” but he couldn’t say it and couldn’t think of anything else instead. With the towel in her hands, Ingrid went out across the grass to where Lou lay. “Stay away from there,” Bobby said.
“He’s injured. We’ve got to look at him.”
“Get back here.”
“Snap out of it, Bobby, and get dressed. We’ve got to take him to the hospital.”
“Be quiet.”
“He could die while we wait.”
Transfixed, thinking about something. Suddenly Bobby Andes moved. “Stand back,” he said. He walked over to Lou and shot him in the head.
One of the women said, “Mother of God.”
Go back over that. There was Lou on the ground, sobbing from the pain, looking with pleading at Bobby Andes striding toward him like a soldier. There was the executioner’s gun pointing at him, the shocked face and the man hiding his head in his arms trying to roll away. Then the explosion and the body like a jumping bean, falling back with a kick of the legs, then limp.
Susan cried like a child.
There was Bobby, nudging Lou, who would have to be dead, leaning over to look at him, then back at the others on the porch or at something above their heads. He raised his gun, pointed it at them, and fired again. The wild shriek of total terror was Susan, running inside.
“Shut up,” Bobby said, “I’m not shooting at you.”
He held his belly as he hobbled back to them, leaning over, gun hanging in his hand. “Go on in,” he said. “You look like a bunch of idiots.”
Wherever he was aiming that last shot, what he actually hit must have been the door spring, which was hanging loose and vibrating next to a torn piece of screen.
SIX
Nocturnal Animals 24
They stood in Bobby Andes’s camp while the echo of catastrophe died in the woods: the girl named Susan in her miniskirt, Ingrid with a dish towel, Tony Hastings with his unused gun, all in shock by the table. Bobby Andes full of police work fixing his pants, holding the gun he had used. Lou Bates outside on the grass with a bullet hole through his brain.
“Shit,” Bobby said. “What happened, Tony, gun wouldn’t work?”
The rage Tony wanted to feel was smothered by the shame of not knowing what he was supposed to do, so he said nothing.
Bobby looked at Susan. “Sorry I scared you. I saw a bat.”
“A bat, Bobby? You were shooting right at us.”
Andes’s face changed. He put his gun on the table and went out the back door. They could hear him heaving like a seal. He came back. “Christ of all fuckin times to be sick.”
He sat down at the table and took deep breaths. “Got to move,” he said.
“Bobby,” Ingrid said, “there’s that man you killed out there.”
“Give me time.”
She looked at Tony and Susan, they all looked at each other.
“Bobby? What are we going to do?”
“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s under control.”
“What are we going to do? You killed that man.”
“Right. He tried to run away.”
“You deliberately killed him.”
“He was trying to escape.” He looked at her. “What’s wrong?” he said.
“You shot him a second time. You shot him in the head.”
The room was still, everyone looking at him, the sound of peeping frogs once more down the river. He ran his hand across his head, opened his mouth to speak, changed his mind.
“Why did you do it?”
“Because I didn’t get him the first time. Jesus.” He felt in his pocket and brought out his car keys. “I’ve got to go.”
“Go where, Bobby?”
“Telephone call.” She touched his shoulder, he brushed her off. “Don’t touch me, I’m all right.”
“Can’t you send Tony?”
This alarmed Tony, but Bobby looked as if she were crazy.
“Tony can’t do it,” Bobby said.
“Can’t do what? He can deliver a message to the station. What more do you want?”
“I want to catch that bastard when he gets out to the road.”
“Oh no, Bobby.”
“Oh yes, Ingrid. I have to catch that bastard.”
“And leave us here by ourselves?”
He stood up, straightened himself, walked to the door. She cried out. “Bobby!”
“Relax,” he said. “Tony’s got a gun. If he can remember how to use it.”
“There’s that man lying out there.”
“Leave him lay. Don’t touch him. Stay inside and hope no early morning fisherman trips over him.”
He went out. They heard the car go. Ingrid said, “Damn him to hell.”
Susan asked, “Was that legal, what he did?”
“Shooting him?”
“Is a policeman allowed to do that?”
“He was trying to escape. However,” Ingrid added. “That second shot in the head. There was no need for that.”
“Will he get in trouble for that?”
“Also.”
“What?”
“He had no legal grounds for holding the other man.”
“You mean Ray?”
“That was against all rules,” Ingrid said.
“Will that get him in trouble?”
“I don’t want to think about it.”
“Maybe if we don’t tell.”
“They’ll know,” Ingrid said. “The wounds in the body will tell. The question is, will the buddies rally round?”
Tony’s shock was turning rancid.
“What was he trying to do?” Susan said. “I mean, when they find out, won’t it ruin him?”
Ingrid’s half laugh. “When who finds out?” She said, “I don’t think he cares. I think he decided if the District Attorney wouldn’t go after him, he’d do it himself.” Ingrid trying to figure Bobby Andes out. “What I don’t understand is, how he could have been so careless.”
“Was he careless?” Susan said.
“Fiddling at that table. Expecting Tony to stop them. That’s not like him.” She looked at Tony. “I guess you’re glad that man is dead.”
He couldn’t think about it, distracted by the question of what Bobby expected when Ray made his dash to escape. The death of Lou Bates seemed unimportant, as if he had ceased to be Lou Bates. It had no satisfaction for Tony, no more than had the death of Turk. Time had redefined the crime, and the only criminal who mattered was Ray. It was all Ray and Ray alone, and once again Tony had been afraid and let him go.