John Connolly - The Whisperers

He looked up from his newspaper, and that semi-smile flickered, like a lightbulb that has suffered a momentary disturbance to its power supply.

‘Shouldn’t you be wearing a mask?’ he asked.

‘Why? You got anything worth stealing?’

‘No, but I thought all you avengers wore masks. That way people can say “Who was that masked avenger?” as you vanish into the night. Otherwise, you’re just a guy who dresses too young for his age, sticking his nose where he’s got no business sticking it, and looking surprised when it gets bloodied.’

I took a stool across from him. He sighed and folded his newspaper.

‘You think I dress too young for my age?’ I said.

‘You ask me, everybody dresses too young these days, when they get dressed at all. I can still remember a time when there were hookers in these bars, and even they wouldn’t have dressed like some of the young girls I see passing by, summer and winter. I want to buy them all coats, make sure they wrap up warm. But what do I know from fashion? I think any suit that isn’t black looks like something Liberace would wear.’ He stretched out a hand, and we shook. ‘How you doing, kid?’

‘Pretty good.’

‘You still with that woman?’ he asked. He meant Rachel, the mother of my daughter, Sam. I didn’t feel any urge to express surprise. Nobody survived for as long as Jimmy Jewel without keeping tabs on whomever crossed his path.

‘No. We broke up. She’s in Vermont.’

‘She take the kid with her?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it.’

This wasn’t a topic of conversation I wanted to pursue. I sniffed warily at the air.

‘Your bar stinks,’ I said.

‘My bar smells fine,’ said Jimmy. ‘It’s my clientele that stink, but to get rid of the stink I’d have to get rid of them, and then it would just be me and my ghosts. Oh, and Earle doesn’t smell so good either, but that may be genetic.’

Earle didn’t reply, but just added a few more wrinkles to his expression and went back to rearranging the dirt.

‘You want a drink? It’s on the house.’

‘I don’t think so. I hear you water your booze down to add taste.’

‘You got balls, coming in here and insulting my place.’

‘It’s not a “place,” it’s a tax write-off. If it ever made any real money, your empire would collapse.’

‘I have an empire? I never knew. I did, I’d have dressed better, bought more expensive black suits.’

‘You have a guy who brings you coffee without being asked, and breaks heads on the same basis. I guess that counts for something.’

‘So, you want some coffee, then?’ asked Jimmy.

‘Is it as bad as everything else in here?’

‘Worse, but I made it myself so at least you know my hands are clean. Literally, not metaphorically.’

‘Coffee would be good, thanks. It’s kind of early for me otherwise.’

‘Then you’re in the wrong place. You think the windows are small because I couldn’t afford the glass?’

The Sailmaker was always dark. Its customers didn’t care to be reminded about the passage of time.

Jimmy gestured to to Earle, who stood, retrieved a mug from somewhere, examined its insides to make sure that it wasn’t too dirty, or was just dirty enough, and poured. When he put the mug down on the bar, coffee slopped over the sides and pooled on the wood. Earle looked at me, as though daring me to complain.

‘He’s dainty for a big man,’ I said.

‘He doesn’t like you,’ said Jimmy. ‘Don’t take it personal, though: he doesn’t like anyone. Sometimes I think that he doesn’t even like me, but I pay him, so that buys me a degree of tolerance.’

Jimmy passed me a silver jug of milk, not cream, and a bowl of sugar. Jimmy didn’t like UHT milk, or cheap creamer, or sachets of sweetener. I took the milk, not the sugar.

‘So, is this a social call, or have I done a great wrong that needs to be righted? Because I got to tell you, having you in my place makes me feel like checking my insurance.’

‘You think trouble follows me?’

‘Jesus, Death himself probably sends you a fruit basket at Christmas, thanking you for the business.’

‘I have a question about trucking.’

‘Don’t get into it, that’s my advice. Long hours, no overtime. You’ll sleep in a cab, eat bad food, and die at a rest stop. On the other hand, nobody will actively try to kill you, which seems to be one of the occupational hazards of your line of work, or the version of it that you pursue.’

I ignored the career advice. ‘There’s a guy, an independent. He’s got payments to keep up on a nice rig, a mortgage, the usual stuff. I’d say, overall, his expenses come close to seventy grand a year, and that’s not leading an extravagant lifestyle.’

‘That allowing for some massage on the figures?’

‘Probably. You ever met an honest man?’

‘Not when it comes to taxes. I did, I’d take him for every penny he was worth, just like the IRS, but not as vindictive. This guy, he do long haul?’

‘Some Canadian stuff, but that’s it, I think.’

‘ Canada ’s a big place. How far are we talking?’

‘ Quebec, as far as I know.’

‘That’s not long haul. He work a lot of hours?’

‘Not enough, or that would be my take on it.’

‘So you figure he might be doing a little work on the side?’

‘He’s crossing the border. The thought had struck me. And, with respect, I don’t think squirrels cross the border without you knowing it and taking ten percent of their nuts.’

‘Fifteen,’ said Jimmy. ‘And that’s the friends’ rate. This guy have a name?’

‘Joel Tobias.’

Jimmy looked away, and clicked his tongue.

‘He’s not one of mine.’

‘You know whose he might be?’

Jimmy didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said: ‘What’s your interest in him?’

On my way to Portland, I had debated how much I was prepared to tell Jimmy. In the end, I decided that I was going to have to tell him most of it, but I wanted to leave out Damien Patchett’s death for now.

‘He’s got a girlfriend,’ I said. ‘A concerned citizen thinks he may not be treating her right, and that she’d be better off away from him.’

‘And what? You prove he’s smuggling and she tosses him aside and dates a preacher instead? Either you’re lying, and I don’t believe you’d come in here and do that, or this concerned citizen needs a lesson in the ways of the world. Half the girls in this town will jump on a guy with a nickel in his pocket and wear him down to a stub, and they won’t care where the money came from. In fact, you tell them you got it illegally, and some of them will call their sisters to join in as well.’

‘What about the other half?’

‘They’ll just steal his wallet. Short-term goals, short-term gains.’ He rubbed his face with his hand, and I heard the crackle of his stubble. ‘I know you’re not the kind to take advice, but maybe you’ll listen to me for the sake of your grandfather,’ he continued. ‘This one isn’t worth it, not if it’s just about some domestic situation that’ll resolve itself one way or the other. Let it go. There’s easier money out there.’

I drank some coffee. It tasted like sump oil. If I hadn’t watched him pour it, I’d have said that Earle had gone in back and dipped the mug in the bay before giving it to me. Then again, maybe he just kept a couple of really nasty mugs and glasses to one side, for special visitors.

‘It doesn’t work that way, Jimmy,’ I said.

‘Yeah, I figured I was talking to the breeze.’

‘So you know about Tobias?’

‘You first. This isn’t just about a girl dating the wrong guy.’

‘I’ve been hired by someone who figures he’s dirty, and may have a grudge against him.’