Elmore Leonard - Maximum Bob

No, Ms. Spunky stayed with it saying, “Didn’t he want to make some kind of deal?”

Why was she asking these questions? A girl. Cops, you told them how you saw it and they got the picture, fast, they knew how the system worked. He wasn’t worried about Dicky Campau. Maybe he was for a minute there on the phone till he realized, hell, whatever story Dicky told would be an offender’s word against his. So pick him up, let him say whatever he wanted.

Now he couldn’t remember what it was she’d asked him.

It didn’t matter. She had another question. “You think he’s the one shot at us?”

Gibbs almost said, Who, Dicky? before he realized it wasn’t a bad question. Why couldn’t it be Dicky? Kept a rifle in his pickup. He’d even mentioned it to the TAC cop. When he did, though, he wasn’t thinking of Dicky as the shooter. He saw Ms. Spunky waiting to know what he thought.

“Honey, are you reading my mind or what? I thought of Dicky Campau as we lay there on the ground, before the shots had even faded out. How’s your drink?”

“It’s fine. But you didn’t mention him to the sheriff and his guys.”

“I wanted to think about it awhile first.”

“Did you mention him to anyone before he called?”

“Let’s see now. All last week I had a full schedule, plus these TAC guys in my hair… You could use some ice.”

She said, “How would he know where Dale was?”

Gibbs had their glasses now, leaving the porch. “I’ll be right back.”

In the kitchen he dialed his buddy McKenna’s home number.

“Bill, I think they’re picking up Dicky Campau on one of the anonymous calls.”

“They already have,” the colonel said.

“They should look for his rifle.”

“They have it too. It’s in the lab.”

“Let me know, all right?”

“Soon as I hear.”

He doused their glasses with bourbon and took a good sip of his, beginning to believe he might have to strangle this girl if he couldn’t get her drunk. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to be thinking of romance. Gibbs opened the back door and stepped into the garage. Wesley and another TAC guy were out in the driveway talking. Gibbs said, “Wes?” and watched him look this way.

“Sir?”

“Ms. Baker’s ready to go home.”

Wesley had the radio tuned to a top-forty station before they were out of the drive. He asked Kathy if she wanted something else. She said no, that’s fine. But then reached over and turned down the volume.

They were on Southern Boulevard before he said, “So you’re a friend of the judge’s, huh?”

She shrugged, her mind on something else.

“You want my opinion, he’s too old for you.”

“He is,” Kathy said. “You ever stay at his house?”

“You mean, on security detail? Every night.”

“What do you have to eat?”

“What do we eat ?”

“What kind of meals do you have? You cook or send out?”

“We cook on his grill.”

“You know any evidence techs?”

With each question he’d glance at her.

“I know every one of them.”

“Would they bring pizza on a job?”

“Pizza?”

“Last Thursday night, at the judge’s house.”

“When the guy shot at him?”

“Yeah, would they bring a pizza?”

“You kidding? With the sheriff there?”

They didn’t say anything for several minutes. Wesley turned the volume up a notch. Coming to Military Trail he asked if she’d like to stop for a beer. Kathy told him she had to pick up her car at the courthouse and get home. They drove along. Wesley turned the volume down again.

“I usually work undercover.”

“When you’re not baby-sitting?”

“Yeah.” He liked her remembering that and grinned. “I make buys, set up the bust. Since I’ve been with TAC we’ve busted seventeen dope houses I was in on. One time I run around to the backyard and here’s this dude coming out with a MAC-ten in his hand. I’m cocked, I got the tension off the trigger. I go, ‘Put it down, man, or you’re fuckin’ dead.’ I mean it was close.”

“Have you ever shot anyone?”

“Not yet.”

She drove home on that one. “Not yet.” Dark now, almost seven. Traffic on the freeway erratic, slow drivers in the fast lane. Have you ever shot anyone? Gary said no; her brothers, even Tony, said no and she had the feeling they hoped they’d never have to. But there were cops who believed it would happen or who looked for the chance. Not yet . Maybe the next time he was cocked, tension off the trigger… She parked in the lot in front of her apartment building, got out, locked the VW. A door slammed in the dark.

Gary walked up without saying a word and kissed her. He tried to step back, but she had hold of his tie and wouldn’t let go until they’d kissed again, putting some meaning into it. Now they could play around.

She said, “I think my affair with the judge is over. I ask too many questions. How was your day?”

He said, “I heard about Dicky Campau and I learned Dr. Tommy has a dark-brown penis. It’s almost black.”

She said, “We always have something to talk about, don’t we? Let’s go upstairs and have a beer.”

He said, “How about coming with me first. I want you to meet somebody. It won’t take long, she has to be at work by nine.”

“What is she, a hooker?”

He smiled. “Part-time. There’s your cop instinct again. Earlene dances topless at a joint on Lake Worth Road and turns tricks on the side.”

“To buy crack and beam up,” Kathy said. “Outside of that, and having a name like Earlene, what’s her problem? No, wait. Her pimp beats her up and she’s pregnant.”

“I’m sorry I mentioned your instinct. You want me to tell you, or you’d rather keep guessing?”

“She owes her dealer and he beat her up.” Talkative because she was glad to see him.

“It’s nothing like that. This girl, Earlene, told a friend of hers about a guy she was with and the friend, who did sell drugs at one time, happens to be a confidential informant of mine. He tells me about it, says she’s afraid of this guy and doesn’t know what to do. I’m interested, so my informant gets back to her. Will she talk to me? Well, she’s a little nervous about it and he has to convince her it’s okay.”

“This is a very devoted snitch you have.”

“He cooperates with us, like any good citizen.”

“Or you’ll put him away.”

Gary said, “We all have choices to make, don’t we? But he does want to help his friend. He’s worried about her.”

“So you got to talk to her?”

“Just a little while ago. What’s bothering her, a John she was with told her he’s going to kill somebody. He said he’s already killed one guy. Now he’s going to do it again, and if she doesn’t believe him, watch for it in the paper.”

“Elvin,” Kathy said.

“Maybe. He took her to a house in Delray.”

“It’s Elvin. Can she identify him?”

Gary smiled at her in the dark.

“That’s where you come in.”

Kathy waited in the backseat, the Dodge double-parked in front of a rundown apartment house in Lake Worth. Gary brought her out to the car: a girl in her early twenties, long hair, pale skinny arms in a tank top, a small shoulder bag in her hand, holding on to it. Don’t leave home without your stash, or at least something. Gary opened the door for her and she hesitated, seeing Kathy in back. Gary said, “Earlene, this is Kathy Baker, the probation officer I mentioned. The guy we’re talking about might be one of her cases.” He got her in and closed the door.

Kathy said, “How are you, Earlene?”