Lawrence Block - Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 129, No. 6. Whole No. 790, June 2007

The veal cutlet was good. He was almost finished when the door opened and Jay Silverspur came in alone, heading for the same table he’d occupied with Karen the previous night. Leopold waited till he was seated, then picked up his beer and walked across the silent floor to join him. “Hello, Jay. Remember me?”

“Sure. It was just last night.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not so long as you’re buying the beer.”

Leopold motioned to the bartender for two more. “Have you seen Karen Wein today? I’ve been looking for her.”

“Her brother’s gone off somewhere. She’s probably with him.”

“Where would that be?”

“Beats me. Over on the Canadian side, probably.”

“I had an appointment with him this morning. He didn’t keep it.”

A slow smile formed on Silverspur’s face. “So now I’m good enough for you.”

“I didn’t say that. I don’t need anything from you.”

“Are you so sure?” he asked with a sly wink.

Well, was he? Leopold decided to play along. “You said you could get drugs at the cheaper Canadian prices.”

“The Canadian dollar’s close to the American in value these days. You wouldn’t save much on medication — that wasn’t really what I had in mind. But maybe I could supply something you can’t find at the corner drugstore.”

“Maybe. I have medical problems—”

“I know. You told us last night. You want pot? I can get you the best grade of Canadian marijuana.”

Leopold glanced nervously over his shoulder, as if fearful that someone might overhear their conversation. “Wein mentioned Ecstasy too. And some cocaine.”

“I can supply it all.”

“Could I get it tonight?”

“How much do you need?”

“I was going to pay Wein ten thousand.”

“American or Canadian?”

“American.”

“Sure, we can do business. What did he promise you?”

Leopold took the list from his pocket. “Here. But I feel odd about this. What if he comes back?”

“He’s not coming back. The res is swarming with cops searching for him. He’s probably way across the border where it’s safer.”

At the piano Bryson had started playing again, beginning with an old Cole Porter melody, “Don’t Fence Me In.” Leopold had been a teenager, just starting to date, when the song was popular back in the ‘forties.

“He knows the old ones,” Silverspur said. “Dan hired a trio that plays rock on weekends for the younger crowd.”

“You know Littlewolf well?”

“Everyone knows Dan. He’s our local success story. With the casino and this place, he’s probably the wealthiest Injun in the state.”

“How’d he get enough money to open the casino? Drugs?”

Silverspur shook his head. “He’s got backers. Maybe they’re Mafia. I don’t ask questions.”

“How soon can you be back here with my order? It’s a four-hour drive home for me.”

“Maybe an hour, that soon enough?”

“Eight o’clock? I guess I could wait that long.”

“See you then. Out in the parking lot.”

“Fine.” Leopold watched him go, then paid the check and went out to the car to call Lieutenant Oaken on his cell phone.

He was still sitting in his car at twenty minutes to eight, waiting for Silverspur’s return, when he saw Karen Wein pull into the parking lot. It was growing dark but he recognized her at once and got out of his car. “Karen!” he called out.

She was half out of her car when she heard him. Immediately she was back in the driver’s seat, slamming the door and turning the ignition. It had started to snow, big wet flakes that cut down visibility, but she’d certainly recognized him and was taking off. He went after her, trying to remember the last time he’d been involved in a car chase. This one didn’t last long. At the next intersection she turned the wheel too sharply on the wet pavement and skidded off the road. Leopold pulled in behind her, blocking her escape.

He opened her door, confronting her in the near darkness. “Why’d you run away? I’m looking for your brother.”

“I thought you were someone else. I don’t know where Rosco is. I tried calling him but there’s no answer.”

“I have to tell you the tribal police are looking for him.”

“I know that. They’re all over the reservation, along with the state police.”

“If you know where he is, you should tell him to come out of hiding.”

“I have no idea where he is,” she insisted.

“They found his car in the casino parking lot.”

“They’d better ask Dan Littlewolf about that.”

“Were the two of them on bad terms?”

“No, I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Please move your car so I can back out of here.”

“Has your brother had previous run-ins with the police or government authorities?” he asked, remembering the mug shot.

“Nothing serious. He’s a patriotic American. He obeys the laws, has a flag decal on his truck, a patriotic ring tone on his cell phone, for God’s sake! What are they trying to do to him?”

He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost eight. “I have to go. I have to meet Jay Silverspur in a few minutes.”

“What for?”

“Nothing involving you.”

Leopold moved his car, but when Karen tried to back out, her wheels spun in the mud.

Time was running out for his meeting with Silverspur. “I’ll drive you back. You can get the car later,” he offered.

When they reached the Homestead parking lot he told her to lean down in the seat, out of sight. In the near darkness he didn’t think Silverspur could see her.

He arrived right on time, pulling into the restaurant lot and parking next to Leopold. “You got the money?” he asked.

“Right here.” Leopold produced his envelope and showed the currency.

Silverspur took a large bundle from his trunk and Leopold started to get out, to keep the man from seeing Karen bent down in the front seat. That was when she caught a glimpse of the pistol in his ankle holster. “He’s a cop, Jay!” she shouted.

Silverspur froze in his tracks for an instant, hearing her voice but not knowing where it was coming from. Then his hand dipped beneath his leather jacket and Leopold rushed forward, knocking the man off balance. A police whistle sounded from the other side of the parking lot. Silverspur was on the ground, tugging to free a switchblade knife from his pocket, when Leopold kicked his hand and reached down for his own weapon. Karen Wein was out the other side of the car, breaking into a run, when Oaken grabbed her around the waist and handcuffed her.

“Let’s take them into the bar,” Leopold suggested when Silverspur and Karen were both in custody. “It’s time we got to the bottom of this.”

Sammy Bryson stopped in the middle of a song as they entered, and the bartender looked as if the place was being raided. Lieutenant Oaken was leading Karen Wein and Jay Silverspur, both in handcuffs, with two officers following. At the sight of them, most of the regular customers quickly paid for their drinks and departed. Leopold was about to start talking when Dan Littlewolf entered, looking unhappy.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

“Police business,” the lieutenant told him. “It doesn’t concern you.”

“I own this place, remember? Have you arrested these people?”

“Let him stay,” Leopold advised.

Oaken nodded. “To answer your question, Mr. Littlewolf, we’re arresting Jay here for possession of narcotics with intent to sell. Miss Wein is being held for questioning.”

“What about her brother? Have you found him?”

“Not yet.”

Leopold cleared his throat. “I believe I can shed some light on that.”