Elmore Leonard - Maximum Bob

Elvin had to grin at the woman thinking you had a choice. Just then Dale Senior began making growling sounds in his throat and blinking his drunk eyes, his way of trying to speak.

“Too bad he never learned to write,” Elvin said, watching his big brother, this old man of fifty-six struggling with himself, spit coming from between his sealed lips. Elvin raised his hand. “Buddy? Let’s see you wave bye-bye. Like this, move your fingers.” All he got were those beady eyes staring at him and veins turning blue. Elvin said to Mavis, “I think I’ll stop over and see Dale. Show him my new car.”

They were in Michelle’s office eleven o’clock Sunday morning, her desk piled with case folders left over from the meeting yesterday. She said to Kathy, “How would you like to open one of these and see it’s a guy you used to go with?” Michelle picked up a folder. “This one.” And dropped it. “At the time I thought he was a sweet guy. He threw his girlfriend’s TV set out the window. His ex-girlfriend, her apartment’s on the fifth floor.”

“The sweet guy discovered crack,” Kathy said.

“He has to pay almost five thousand in restitution.”

“That must’ve been some TV set.”

“It hit a car.”

“You’re not taking him, are you?”

“Hardly. If you want him, he’s yours.”

“I wouldn’t mind that doctor in Ocean Ridge.”

“Dr. Vasco, another sweetie,” Michelle said, looking for his case folder. “Why do you want him?”

“Something different.”

“But you don’t do Community Control.”

“I could. I’ve been here long enough.”

“And you must love it,” Michelle said, looking up. “I got here at eight this morning and there’s your car in front. I thought you were up in your office.” Michelle acting, her expression going from innocent to puzzled. “No, wait a minute. Gary picked you up here yesterday…”

“You want to know if I left my car and spent the night with him.”

“Listen, I wouldn’t blame you, he’s a neat guy, very clean-cut, polite… I love his hair. He doesn’t come on like most cops, does he? He seems… you know, gentle.”

Michelle was waiting now to have this verified.

“He’s nice,” Kathy said, “he’s smart, likes to read. Majored in sociology at U of M. Spent eight years with Palm Beach PD, likes to work homicide… What else do you want to know? His folks live in Boca, he goes there for dinner every other Sunday. He has a younger sister, she’s there sometimes. His dad’s retired.”

Michelle said, “Really?”

Kathy said, “I know how Community Control works and you need help, right? You could let me have Dr. Vasco on a temporary basis, thirty days?”

“Yeah, I suppose, if you really want him.” Michelle had the case folder open and was glancing through it. “He’s on twenty-four-hour house arrest. Allowed two AA meetings a week. Has a houseman, Hector, who does the shopping. The doctor goes in swimming with his anklet on. It’s supposed to be waterproof but they had to replace three the first year. He bitches constantly about his phone bill, even though he’s loaded. You know an anklet adds about a hundred and twenty bucks a month.” Michelle closed the file. Handing it across the desk she said, “I like that dress. Is it new?”

“This?” Kathy pinched the front of her beige cotton knit that was like a long T-shirt with a belt. “It isn’t new and I didn’t have it on last night, but we did go to his apartment.”

That seemed to make Michelle happy. “Was it nice?”

“The apartment? It was neat, nothing lying around. He rents movies, listens to music. He likes Neil Young, The Band, Bob Dylan…”

“No new stuff?”

“Dire Straits.”

“They’re not new.”

Kathy said, “He has ten years of National Geographic magazines,” looking Michelle in the eye, “he keeps in chronological order in a bookcase. He has about four hundred books, all kinds, in alphabetical order by authors.”

Michelle took a moment. “He does?”

“He’s reading one about Siberia he says is a honey.”

“Siberia,” Michelle said.

“The gulags, slave-labor camps. Twenty-five million people were sent there during Stalin’s time, anybody he didn’t like. Russian soldiers captured during the war, they came home they were sent to Siberia. They shouldn’t have let themselves get captured. A man was overheard saying to an American his boots were better than Soviet boots. He got ten years. In one camp they shot thirty people a day to keep the rest of them in line.”

“That’s what you talked about, Siberia?”

“They call the convicts over there zeks . No, we talked about different things. Gary opened a bottle of wine.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t spend the night.”

“You didn’t?”

“It got late, he took me home.”

“Yeah?”

“Picked me up this morning and dropped me off, that’s all. We’re going to meet later.”

“Nothing happened last night?”

“You mean did we go to bed? No. What do you want? We just met. You go to bed with every guy you meet and happen to like?”

Michelle paused. “No, not every guy.”

“Just the ones throw TV sets out the window.”

“Why’re you upset?”

“I’m not. You want to know what happened, I told you. Nothing.”

Now Michelle seemed to be appraising her, eyes narrowed. “Are you saying he didn’t try anything or you didn’t let him?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Like what? You’re alone in his apartment…”

“That doesn’t mean he has to jump me, does it?”

“No wonder you’re upset. What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing. He’s a nice guy. He wants me to go with him next Sunday, meet his folks.”

“Well, I guess if you hang in there long enough… I really like his hair. He’ll never get bald.”

“And he’s clean-cut, he’s polite,” Kathy said, “and you think he’s a little weird, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say weird.”

“What he does with his National Geographics .”

“Well, that. No, but I think he is different. You know, maybe he’s shy. I mean with women.”

“He might be.”

“Self-conscious, afraid of being turned down. When they’re like that you have to let them know it’s okay. Bring them out, so to speak.”

“Like unzip their fly?”

“That would work. You know the old saying,” Michelle said, “once you have their balls in your hand, their minds are far from Siberia.”

Inez came around from the side of the house where she was hanging wash and yelled at Dale to get back inside, what was wrong with him? Elvin waved at her and brushed through the opening in the hedge that hid the street and his black Cadillac sedan. He was only going to show it to Dale, how it told you all kinds of stuff on the dash panel when you pressed buttons; but when Inez started yelling he said, “Shit, get in the car.”

Dale was in the front seat before Elvin was even around to the other side. He yelled at Inez, “We going for a ride. Be back directly.”

Driving off he saw Inez in his rearview mirror standing out in the street, the size of her, like a man wearing a housedress. All you could say about Inez Campau, there was a big ugly woman. He said to Dale, “You don’t want to stay there no more, do you?”

“She’s making me leave by tomorrow anyways,” Dale said, “once I’m a fugitive.”

“You run, you know what they’ll do.”

“I don’t care, I’m not going to prison.”

“They’ll add on five to the five you already got.”

“If they catch me.”

Sounding like the boy had made up his mind.