Lawrence Block - A Walk Among the Tombstones

I was in the lead when we got to the kitchen door, with Kenan right at my side. We both had guns in our hands. Raymond Callander was seated so that we were seeing him in profile. He had a stack of bills in one hand, a pencil in the other. Lethal weapons in the hands of a good accountant, I understand, but a lot less intimidating than guns or knives.

I don’t know how long I waited. Probably no more than fifteen or twenty seconds, if that, but it seemed longer. I waited until something changed in the set of his shoulders, showing that an awareness of our presence had somehow reached him.

I said, “Police. Don’t move.”

He didn’t move, didn’t even turn his eyes toward the sound of my voice. He just sat there as one phase of his life ended and another began. Then he did turn to look at me, and his expression showed neither fear nor anger, just profound disappointment.

“You said a week,” he said. “You promised.”

The money all seemed to be there. We filled one suitcase. The other was in the basement, and nobody much wanted to go get it. “I’d say for TJ to go,” Kenan said, “but I know how he got in the cemetery, so I guess it’d spook him too much to go down there with a dead body.”

“You just sayin’ that so I’ll go. Tryin’ to psyche me out.”

“Yeah,” Kenan said. “I figured you’d say something like that.”

TJ rolled his eyes, then went for the suitcase. He came back with it and said, “Man, it stinks pretty powerful down there. Dead people always smell that bad? I ever kill somebody, remind me to do it from a distance.”

It was curious. We worked around Callander, treating him as if he weren’t there, and he made such treatment easier than it might have been by staying put and keeping his mouth shut. He looked smaller sitting there, and weak and ineffectual. I knew him to be none of those things, but his blank passivity gave that impression.

“All packed up,” Kenan said, fastening the hasps of the second suitcase. “Can go right back to Yuri.”

Peter said, “All Yuri wanted was to get his kid back.”

“Well, tonight’s his lucky night. He gets the money, too.”

“Said he didn’t care about the money,” Peter said dreamily. “The money didn’t matter.”

“Petey, are you saying something without saying it?”

“He don’t know we came here.”

“No.”

“Just a thought.”

“No.”

“Whole lot of money, babe. And you been takin’ a bath lately. That hash deal’s gonna go down the tubes, isn’t it?”

“So?”

“God gives you a chance to get even, you don’t want to spit in His eye.”

“Awww, Petey,” Kenan said. “Don’t you remember what the old man told us?”

“He told us all kinds of shit. When did we ever listen?”

“He said never to steal unless you can steal a million dollars, Petey. Remember?”

“Well, now’s our chance.”

Kenan shook his head. “No. Wrong. That’s eight hundred thousand, and a quarter of a mil is counterfeit and another hundred and thirty thousand is mine to start with. So what’s that leave? Four-something. Four-twenty? Something like that.”

“Which gets you even, babe. Four hundred this asshole took off of you, plus ten you gave Matt, plus expenses, comes to what? Four-twenty? Goddamn close to it.”

“I don’t want to get even.”

“Huh?”

He stared hard at his brother. “I don’t want to get even,” he said. “I paid blood money for Francey and you want me to steal blood money from Yuri. Man, you got that fucking junkie mind, steal his wallet and help him look for it.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I mean for Christ’s sake, Petey—”

“No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

Callander said, “You paid me with counterfeit money?”

“You simple shit,” Kenan said, “I was beginning to forget you were here. What are you, afraid you’ll get picked up trying to spend it? I got news for you. You ain’t gonna spend it.”

“You’re the Arab. The husband.”

“So?”

“I was just wondering.”

I said, “Ray, where’s the money you got from Mr. Khoury? The four hundred thousand.”

“We divided it.”

“And what happened to it?”

“I don’t know what Albert did with his half. I know it’s not in the house.”

“And your half?”

“Safe-deposit box. Brooklyn First Mercantile, New Utrecht and Fort Hamilton Parkway. I’ll go there in the morning on my way out of town.”

Kenan said, “You will, huh?”

“I can’t decide whether to take the Honda or the van,” he went on.

“He’s kind of spaced, isn’t he? Matt, I think he’s telling the truth about the dough. The half in the bank we can forget about. Albert’s half, I don’t know, we could turn the house upside down but I don’t think we’re gonna find it, do you?”

“No.”

“He probably buried it in the yard. Or in the fucking cemetery or someplace. Fuck it. I’m not supposed to have that money. I knew that all along. Let’s do what we gotta do and get outta here.”

I said, “You have a choice to make, Kenan.”

“How’s that?”

“I can take him in. There’s a lot of hard evidence against him now. He’s got his dead partner in the basement, and the van in the garage is going to be full of fibers and blood traces and God knows what else. Pam Cassidy can ID him as the man who maimed her. Other evidence will tie him to Leila Alvarez and Marie Gotteskind. He ought to be looking at three life sentences, plus an extra twenty or thirty years tacked on as a bonus.”

“Can you guarantee he’ll do life?”

“No,” I said. “Nobody can guarantee anything when it comes to the criminal justice system. My best guess is that he’ll wind up at the State Hospital for the Criminally Insane at Matteawan, and that he’ll never leave the place alive. But anything could happen. You know that. I can’t see him skating, but I’ve said that about other people and they never did a day.”

He thought it over. “Going back to our deal,” he said. “Our deal wasn’t about you taking him in.”

“I know. That’s why I’m saying it’s your choice. But if you make the other choice I have to walk first.”

“You don’t want to be here for it.”

“No.”

“ ’Cause you don’t approve?”

“I don’t approve or disapprove.”

“But it’s not the kind of thing you would ever do.”

“No,” I said, “that’s not it at all. Because I have done it, I’ve appointed myself executioner. It’s not a role I’d want to make a habit of.”

“No.”

“And there’s no reason why I should in this case. I could turn him over to Brooklyn Homicide and sleep fine.”

He thought about it. “I don’t think I could,” he said.

“That’s why I said it has to be your decision.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I just made it. I have to take care of it myself.”

“Then I guess I’ll be going.”

“Yeah, you and everybody else,” he said. “Here’s what we’ll do. It’s a shame we didn’t bring two cars. Matt, you and TJ and Petey’ll take the money to Yuri.”

“Some of it’s yours. Do you want to take out the money you lent him?”

“Separate it out at his place, will you? I don’t want to wind up with any of the counterfeit.”

“It’s all in the packages with the Chase wrappers,” Peter said.

“Yeah, except it all got mixed around when this dickhead here counted it, so check it out at Yuri’s, okay? And then you’ll pick me up. Figure what? Twenty minutes to Yuri’s and twenty minutes back, twenty minutes there, figure an hour. You’ll come back here and pick me up on the corner an hour and fifteen minutes from now.”