Alan Cook - Catch a Falling Knife

“What happened to the knife?”

“I got a towel and we wrapped it up, after wiping off any fingerprints. Eric…Mr. Hoffman told me what to do. He took it with him so it wouldn’t be around when the police got there.”

“How did the window get broken?”

“He…he broke it with his cane to make it appear like a robbery. He told me to wait 15 minutes and then call 911. And then to call his house. That would give him a chance to get home so he could answer the phone. Then he would tell Mrs. Hoffman. He didn’t want to have to wait until the police showed up at his door. But I panicked and called 911 after about five minutes. Then I called his house, but of course he wasn’t there yet so I had to tell Mrs. Hoffman what had happened.”

“How did the knife get in my car?”

“Mr. Hoffman gave it back to me after he found out that I knew you. He told me to put it in your trunk since you were under suspicion, anyway. He said it would help me avoid becoming a suspect, myself. I…I’m sorry I did it.”

“You know we have to go to the police.”

“At this time of night?”

“The police operate 24 hours a day. Somebody will listen to your story.”

“If Mr. Hoffman finds out he’ll kill me.”

“The police will protect you from Mr. Hoffman. Come on, let’s go.”

There were sounds of chairs being slid back and then the distant sound of a door closing.

“I got the whole thing on tape,” Lefty said, proudly, pointing to his electronic equipment. “We’ll nail that bastard now.”

Something was wrong. The solution was too pat, too easy. I said, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I think we should stop them.”

“I say, if they’re going to the police, let them go,” Lefty said. He extracted a tape from the recorder and held it up. “We can follow them and present the police with this. Then they can compare it with what she tells them.”

“Gogi’s right,” Sandra said, urgently. “Donna’s dangerous. This isn’t the way she wrote the ending.”

Lefty looked quickly from one of us to the other and said, “All right, I hear you.” He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a gun. “Do you know where they parked?”

“In the back,” I said. “It’s closest to go out the door at the end of this hall.”

“Good. We should beat them to their car.”

Lefty led the way, with Sandra right on his heels. I followed as fast as I could. By the time I got to the outside door, Lefty and Sandra were already out of sight. As I went through the doorway the cool night air hit my face, refreshing after the closeness of the atmosphere inside. It was dark, but the parking lot was lit by several spotlights on the side of the building.

I looked toward the back of the lot where Donna’s car and my car were parked. Sandra and Lefty were running toward the two cars. I didn’t see Mark and Donna. It would take them longer to come around from the front door. I felt some relief. Sandra and Lefty would intercept them and Lefty would neutralize Donna with his gun, if necessary.

I didn’t want Donna to see me when she and Mark came around from the front so I walked quickly to the back of the building and wedged myself into a fenced-in area, containing trashcans. It smelled like a garbage dump, but I should be safe here, in the dark. And from here I could see the cars. As I watched, Lefty and Sandra ducked down between the cars, out of sight.

Minutes passed. Nobody came to the back of the lot. Since only a handful of other cars were parked back here, apparently the crowd wasn’t large enough yet to need the additional parking. But where were Mark and Donna. They should have been here by now. Had they stopped downstairs for another beer?

I had a strong desire to move to where the air was cleaner. Sandra’s head popped up from the shadows between the cars and she looked around. She and Lefty came out of their hiding place and trotted toward me. I came out of mine so they could see me.

“We’re going to find out where they are,” Lefty said as he ran by, laboring because of his size.

“Stay here,” Sandra said as she passed me, running easily.

They disappeared down the side of the building.

I obeyed Sandra for a few seconds, thankful that the odor wasn’t so strong where I stood now. I didn’t want to return to the trashcans. Instead, I walked to my car. I thought it would be a good idea to move my car away from Donna’s, in case there was trouble. As I approached my car a vehicle came around the other side of the building. It was too late to hide; it headed toward my corner of the lot and nailed me with its headlights. I felt like a frightened deer.

I scoffed at my alarm; this must be a patron of Club Cavalier. I got out my keys and started to unlock my car door, planning to get in, as if I were leaving. Act natural. Instead of parking in a lined space, the pickup truck-I had now identified it as such-pulled up behind my car and Donna’s car. Strange. I took another look; it was Eric Hoffman’s truck.

Eric stuck his head out of the open driver’s-side window and yelled something at me, but I couldn’t hear what he said because of the noise of his engine. Then he shut off the engine and said, “Lillian, is that you? The whole damn world is here tonight.”

I hadn’t heard him swear before. He opened his door while Mark and Donna piled out of the other side of the truck. Eric must have spotted them as they came out of the Club. That couldn’t be good. I stood with one hand on my door handle, waiting to see what was going to happen next.

Mark saw me and came over, saying, “Lillian, what are you doing here?”

Of all the things I could have said, I chose, “Sandra’s here. She wants to talk to you.”

“I can’t right now. I…I’ll explain later. Right now I have to go with Donna.”

I wanted to order Mark to get into my car where he would be safe, but Donna and Eric were listening. Mark started around the back of my car toward Donna’s car. Donna had opened her driver’s-side door and stuck her head into the car. Now she stood up and turned toward Mark.

I saw the gun in her hand before Mark did. I yelled, “Mark, look out!”

Donna fired several shots in quick succession as Mark started to duck. Mark fell behind my car. Donna moved forward, holding the gun awkwardly in both hands, planning to shoot him again. My car was between Donna and me. I couldn’t get to her; I could only watch in horror.

Eric had one foot on the ground and was positioning his cane to help him swing his other leg out of the truck. From this awkward position he launched himself at Donna as she approached to finish off Mark. Eric’s body hit Donna, but his lunge didn’t have much force behind it so he grabbed her as he fell, pulling them both down on the asphalt. He grunted loudly as his body hit the ground.

I finally became mobile and somehow made it around to the back of my car. All three bodies were in the space between the truck and the two cars. Blood was spreading on Mark’s shirt, but Donna was first priority. Being careful not to step on Mark, I picked up Eric’s cane, which he had dropped. Donna had rolled out of Eric’s grasp, into the back wheel of her car, and was struggling to get up. She hit her head on the frame of her car and collapsed. I saw the gun in her hand and remembered what she had said about Eric knocking the knife out of her hand with his cane.

As Donna tried a second time to get up I hit her sharply on the wrist with the cane. The gun came loose and clattered to the blacktop. Using the cane like a hockey stick, I scooted the gun underneath Eric’s truck. Donna made it to her knees, a dazed expression on her face. I stood facing her, cane in hand, holding it like a dueling sword.