Alex is back in town, boys.
The Glasgow Inn was mostly empty. It was late in the morning, so the snowmobilers were already out on the trails. Although how the hell they could ride around out there all day in this weather was beyond me. It hurt just to think about it.
“Good God Almighty,” Jackie said when he saw me. “If you aren’t the ugliest thing that ever walked in here.”
“Nice to see you too,” I said. “I need an omelet with the works.”
“Too late for breakfast,” he said. “Kitchen’s closed.”
“Jackie, even with two broken ribs, I will kill you with my bare hands if you don’t get your ass in that kitchen.”
“Go sit by the fire,” he said. “I suppose you want the paper and a Bloody Mary, too.”
“You’re a good man, Jackie. God will reward you some day.”
He shot me a funny look on his way through the kitchen door. I pulled a chair close to the fireplace and threw another log on. When I was settled in, I promised myself that I wouldn’t move from that spot for the next week.
When Jackie came back with the food, he stood over me for a long time, looking down at me.
“What is it?” I said.
“Seriously, are you gonna be all right? You look like shit”
“That’s how I feel,” I said. “But yes, I’m gonna be all right.”
“I got a case of Molson waiting for you,” he said. “Just let me know.”
“Bless you,” I said.
He gave me another funny look and left me to myself. I sat there in the chair and watched the fire. The wind kept blowing outside. An hour later, I finally got off my lazy ass long enough to use the bathroom. While I was up I went over to the window and pulled the curtains open, looked out at some snowmobiles buzzing by and then down the road toward the Brass Anchor Motel. I could just see the corner of the sign through the trees.
This is insane, Alex. There are two men holed up in that motel, waiting for you to do something. And you’re holed up here in the bar doing absolutely nothing, waiting for somebody else to find out who they are and why they’re watching you.
I went to the bar and grabbed the phone. When I reached the sheriff’s office, I asked for Bill. He wasn’t in. I left a message for him to call me at the Glasgow Inn. I went back to my chair by the fire for all of two minutes and then I got back up and picked up the phone again.
What was that number? I couldn’t remember it. It might have changed by now, anyway. It’s been over fourteen years. I called Information in Detroit, asked for the number for my old precinct. When I had the receptionist on the line, I went through every name I could think of-my old sergeant, a couple detectives, every officer I could think of. None of them were in the precinct anymore. I asked to talk to the desk sergeant on duty. When she switched me over, I tried to explain to him that I was a former officer, and that I needed to run a license plate. He wasn’t buying it. I couldn’t blame him.
I walked around the room a couple times, went back to the window and looked down the road again. Then I remembered a couple more names of old police officers I had worked with. I went back to the phone and tried them out on the receptionist. Nothing. Everybody I had worked with, they were all gone. I wondered if most of them were even cops anymore.
My old partner, I didn’t have to wonder about.
Leon came in a little while later, letting in a cold blast of air as he opened the door. You wouldn’t confuse the man with a GQ model to begin with, but now he looked horrible. His unruly red hair was even more of a mess than usual, and the rings under his eyes made me wonder if he had slept at all in the last three days. He looked even worse than I did.
“What the hell happened to you?” I said.
“I’ve been working, Alex. I’ve been looking for Bruckman. I just wanted to swing by, check on our friends at the motel, see how you’re doing.” He came over to the bar and sat on a stool.
“Have you slept, for God’s sake?”
“Here and there,” he said. “In the car. I’ve been trying to hit the stores and restaurants during the day, and then again during the evening, along with the bars.”
“What, are you crazy? Where have you been-”
“In Canada,” he said. “Remember? We know he’s probably in Canada somewhere.”
“You’ve been going to every store and restaurant and bar in Canada?”
“No, think about it, Alex. They rode their snowmobiles here, right? How far across the river can they be?”
“Anywhere in Soo Canada,” I said. “Which is only four times bigger than Soo Michigan.”
“It’s not that hard,” he said. “You just hit one place and then the next. You get into a rhythm. He’s gotta be somewhere over there, Alex. He has to eat. And you said he was high, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“How many cokeheads you know just sit inside all day?”
“I don’t know, Leon.”
“Potheads are another story. But when you’re on coke, you need action. You need to be out all night, making the scene. You know, lights, music.”
Jackie put a Canadian in front of me, looked at Leon and then rolled his eyes. “I need coffee,” Leon said. “As strong as you can make it.”
“Don’t say that,” I said. “His coffee is bad enough already.”
“So I’ve been hitting all the nightspots extra hard, Alex. Because I know he’s out there somewhere. And there aren’t that many places to go at night. I mean, compared to all the places you can go during the day.”
“I guess that makes sense,” I said. “Have you tried the hockey rinks?”
“Hockey rinks,” he said.
“Yeah, you said it yourself. He needs action. He’s a hockey player.”
“Of course,” he said. “Goddamn it. Of course.”
“If he’s anything like the baseball players I’ve known,” I said. “Or the basketball players. Or whatever.”
“Even if he’s hiding out over there, he’s gonna have to get out on that ice eventually. Hurry up with that coffee, Jackie. I gotta get back out there.”
“Leon, will you just relax for a minute? You’re gonna kill yourself. Eat some lunch at least.”
“Okay,” he said. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I have to pace myself.”
“I’ve been sitting here thinking about what to do with our guys in the motel,” I said. “I tried calling Brandow, but he’s not in. I even tried to call some of my old cop friends in Detroit, see if I could get somebody to run the plate.”
“I already ran their plate, Alex.”
“How did you do that?”
“I called the Secretary of State and gave them the number on my P.I. license. Didn’t you know you could do that?”
“Uhh, no,” I said. “But then… Well, never mind. What did you find out?”
“There is no such license number in the state of Michigan.”
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what the lady told me.”
I picked up the phone off the bar and called the sheriff’s office again. Bill still wasn’t in. “Damn it,” I said as I put the phone down. “This is driving me crazy.”
“So what are we waiting for?” he said. “Let’s go pay them a visit.”
“I promised Bill I’d let him handle it,” I said. I turned around on the stool and looked at the window. “Hell, I’ll give him until tomorrow morning. If he hasn’t done anything by then, I’ll go over there.”
“I’m with you, partner.”
I looked at Leon. Maybe for the first time, I really looked at him. “Go home,” I finally said. “Get some sleep.”
“Couple hours,” he said. “Then I’m going back. I wonder how many ice rinks there are in Soo Canada?”
It was dark by five o’clock that evening, the daylight slipping away so fast you wondered if it had really happened. By nine o’clock I had called Bill back three more times. The last message I left for him was simple. My promise expires tomorrow morning. Either call me or come to the Brass Anchor Motel to watch me knock on their door.