George Wier - The Last Call

“Good. I don’t know exactly what kind of help we may need, but it never hurts to have a friend in your corner, you know?”

“You got it. I’m plainclothes now anyway. It gives me a little latitude. Anything else?”

“I’ll let you know when, and if, the time comes.”

He was quiet for a bit.

“You sound sorta funny,” he said.

“Yeah, but nobody’s laughing.”

“Okay,” he said. “See ya.”

“See ya,” I said, and hung up.

I placed another call, this time to my office.

Penny answered.

“Penny. It’s Bill.”

“Mr. Travis! Mr. Bierstone has been looking for you. He’s had me leave several messages on your desk.”

“That’s fine, Penny. I may be out for a few days. It’s this Simmons case he wanted me to handle. Listen, Penny, I’ll be checking back in as I’m able. There’s a stack of bills that have to be paid in the second from the top drawer of my filing cabinet. There’s a small stack of blank checks in the safe. Pay those bills for me, would you?”

“Okay, got it,” she said. “Is that it?”

“Sorry, Penny. Just getting started. First thing is there’s this little kid. I’ll need some standard papers for her, assignment of legal guardianship, that sort of thing. You might ask Nat what all we’ll need. He loves doing that sort of thing. The kid’s name on the form will be Keesha White. A Kay, two ee’s, and a shuh. Guardian would be Coleeta White.” I spelled it for her. “She should be in the phone book as far as address and stuff. Tell Nat that it might be a good idea to go over and visit and get her to sign them when the papers are ready.”

“Okay… Got it. Is that it?”

I thought for a moment.

“Hold on a second, Penny,” I said.

“Julie!” I called.

I heard a distant voice say something that sounded like “bathroom.” Good. She was out of earshot.

Hank was standing there in the doorway where Julie had been before, Dingo right beside him. They both looked at me. Dingo barked once, gruffly.

“Okay, Penny,” I said. “One last thing. Have Nat call an old friend of mine. Deputy Sheriff Patrick Kinsey.” I told her the number. “Have Nat tell Kinsey everything he knows about Miss Simmons.”

“Okay. Is that it?”

“Is that it? Hmmm. Penny, does anything ever bother you?”

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“Good. You’re doing a fine job.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“One more thing. Just remind Nat to let Mrs. White know that he’s my partner. That way, nobody will be freaking out when he comes knocking.”

“Got it.”

“Penny, I might have to leave town for a few days. If you don’t hear from me by say-?”

“Monday?” I mouthed to Hank.

He nodded.

“Monday,” I said to Penny. “Can you come to my house and feed my fish? There’s a spare house key in my desk.”

“I’ll do that, sir. Have a good day, sir.”

Have a good day? Me? She didn’t know me very well.

I hung up.

Hank raised his eyebrows.

“What?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure why I’d asked for information on Julie, or why I’d asked Penny to pass it on to Nat Bierstone to do. That’s not like me. Usually I hit things pretty much head on, and the consequences be damned. But looking at it, I think maybe that it was some reflex action. A nod at self-preservation. I sometimes didn’t take too good of care of myself, I guess, the way I tended to fall into things like I’d just done.

If she’s willing to put you in danger, then somethin’ is not right. That’s what Lawrence White had said.

I had a feeling right then. That feeling of something not right.

I’d learned a long time ago that the only way to head off trouble was to face it head on. Doing anything else only tends to stack it up deeper further down the road. So, I was hoping that my little call to Pat Kinsey would be worth something later on. Also, I was hoping beyond hope that Julie would get something out of what I was doing. She’d been running for some time, it appeared, probably mostly from herself. Maybe I was just kidding myself, but what I was wishing for most of all was that she’d begin to face up to whatever she had done.

Me, I’m no saint. I’m basically lazy, and I’ve found it far simpler to get along in life by looking, confronting, and stopping the stone before it gets too much inertia going down that long hill. Sometimes, waiting too long before trying to stop it gets you nothing but flattened by it.

Julie sat next to me on the couch while I dialed Archie Carpin’s number.

“Do you want to talk to him first?” I asked her.

She shook her head.

I got a ring.

“Start talking,” the voice said. It was a masculine voice.

“If this is Archie, Julie wants to talk to you,” I said.

There was a long silence. I could almost hear the gears turning.

“I don’t care much for talk,” he said.

“I can understand that,” I said. “But the fact remains that talking is better than shooting.”

“Who says?”

“Marshal Dillon, for one. The word we’re looking for here is negotiation, I think.”

“Well,” he said. “Really, I ought to kiss her. She killed my number one competitor. Nobody else was brave enough to do that.”

“Are you talking about Mr. Neil? Your horse-racing competitor?”

“The one and only.”

It was my turn for silence. I looked at Julie. She was petting Dingo. Also, she was biting her lower lip.

“How did he die?” I asked.

“Somebody put a very large caliber bullet through his neck. Like to have cut his head off.”

“Well damn,” I said.

“That’s ancient history. What I want to know is where she put it.”

“I thought he died last week,” I said.

“Last week and a million years ago are about the same. Dead is dead. I repeat: so where did she put it?”

“Put what?” For a moment my question was sincere. I had forgotten about the money. Then I got the picture in my head: the close lightning and the fat drops of rain and the grating metal-on-metal sound of the vent cover opening and two million sliding down into oblivion.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “I want that money.”

“Oh… That money. Well. That’s also why I’m calling. To open negotiations.”

“I won’t negotiate,” Carpin said.

“That’s what Julie said. But people can change, Archie,” I said.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about a deal,” I said.

I noticed Hank looking at me rather studiously. He nodded his head “no”.

“The money first, then we talk,” Carpin said.

“No way,” I said. I didn’t have to hesitate.

“I know she stashed it somewhere,” he said. “There’s a certain little girl who will attest she didn’t have it the last time she saw her.”

“What little girl?” I looked at Julie. Her eyes went wide as I watched.

“You don’t know?” Carpin asked. He laughed; a great hollow chuckle with about as much humor as a lynching party. “Hah! That figures. Tell Julie the kid is safe right here with me. Ain’t that right, little darlin’?” his voice had become distant. He was holding the mouthpiece away. I pressed the phone against my ear so hard that it hurt, but I couldn’t make out a response.

“Carpin,” I said quickly. “You’re related to the Signal Hill bunch, aren’t you?”

“Hell yeah I am. That was my granddaddy.”

“Not that I want to win friends and influence people or anything, but your granddaddy was low-life scum of the earth. I’m surprised you never changed your name in shame. A sorrier cutthroat never walked,” I said, and hung up.