An Ordinary Decent Criminal Part 21

She snorted, which was a very unladylike noise indeed. "Fat chance. My boss does not change her mind."

"Wanna bet?"

She looked at me and then at Claire and then back at me again. "No. I don't bet."

Claire reached over and patted her arm. "That's very wise of you." She turned to me and said solemnly, "See, I told you she was bright."

I laughed and Vanessa closed her purse and looked around the room for a few minutes. I could see the muscles tense in her throat a couple of times and then relax, so I waited until she said what she needed to say. "Well, now that that's all settled, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"You don't seem like a, I don't know, bad guy, I suppose."

Before answering, I drank some more coffee. "Well, not now. I used to be one, though. I used to be really bad but I stopped."

There were more words in my mouth and more ideas but I held them back with difficulty and continued on a different track. "I just stopped."

It sounded lame and it hung there for a long time while Claire held her hand out where I could take it, but I didn't reach out and she pulled hers back.

"But ... killing those three boys. How did it make you feel?"

I stared at her and fought down a surprising surge of rage. Claire noticed and moved around to kiss me on my cheek. When she spoke, I could feel her breath tickling the hair around my ear. "She didn't mean anything."

Vanessa was starting to look a little worried and I exhaled loudly through my nose.

"It made me angry and sad."

She stared at me and shook her head. "Really?"

Claire was holding onto my shoulder quite tightly and I looked up and addressed what I said to her alone. "Yes, really."

For a second I thought there was a tear in Claire's eye and then she squeezed my shoulder again.

Vanessa deadpanned, "Strange. I wouldn't have felt a thing."

I started clearing the table. I wanted to say something nasty, but instead I spoke very carefully. As though it was something important to recount. "I didn't feel a thing the first time. Or the second. Or even the third. After that, well, sometimes I felt happy and really good and that scared the p.i.s.s out of me. Eventually I started to feel a little pleasure every time. It was right after that that I decided to stop being bad."

Vanessa stared at me and a slow flush came across her face. And then, abruptly, she left.

29.

Thompson phoned a little after 5:00 p.m. I'd just finished taking the last load of garbage out of the bas.e.m.e.nt and packing it neatly in the same cardboard boxes we'd used for moving. While I was coming in from the back door, the phone jangled and I caught it on the second ring. " 'Lo?"

Thompson sounded sober. "I just received a phone call from the Crown attorney. The RCMP are serving a warrant tomorrow morning at your residence and they're giving us notice."

"That's great. Why?"

He answered, confused, "Why what?"

"Why give us notice, that's not standard procedure, is it?"

"Well, no. They probably wanted to make sure everything went by the book. That makes sense, right?"

"Sure. Oh, are you and your wife coming over on Sat.u.r.day for the barbecue? We sent out a note but haven't received a response yet."

Thompson was quiet for a few moments. "Sure, I think so. I guess my wife has the letter, I haven't seen it yet. But sure. Now, about tomorrow, the cops are coming at 9:00 sharp."

"Can you make it yourself?"

"Sure. Wouldn't want to miss this. I'll see you then."

Claire came down from the second floor, holding a half-filled garbage bag. "Who was that?"

"Thompson. The cops are going to search the house tomorrow morning."

"Ah, s.h.i.+t. No point in cleaning, then."

She dropped the bag and sat on the stairs.

"Well, we can finish cleaning up after they leave."

I nodded agreement. "Right. So I declare a holiday for the rest of tonight."

"Before we do that, let's check the house for anything that shouldn't be there."

"Like anything planted?"

"Right."

So we did. Claire found it in the garbage pile in the back by the alley: a slightly torn, ziplock bag of white oblong tablets and cracked crystalline pebbles. We both stared at it for a moment and then I put the garbage bag back on top.

"Leave it?" Claire was biting her knuckle.

"Yeah."

We found a piece of particleboard and put it on top of the stuff before going back into the house to look some more. The last thing we did was both sign our names in marker on the board, along with the time and date.

Then we sat and listened to the rain for a few hours until we fell asleep.

The first person arrived at exactly two minutes before 9:00. When I opened the door, there was a big man in an expensive suit standing along with the Crown prosecutor, McMillan-Fowler, and Thompson. Behind them, and looking sodden in the rain, were three Mounties in their patrol uniforms.

McMillan-Fowler spoke first. "Mr. Parker? Good morning, I am here with Inspector Atismak of the RCMP and these other officers to serve a search warrant. Your lawyer, Mr. Thompson, is here as well." She tried to walk past me but I didn't let her.

"One moment. May I see the warrant?"

She had it under her coat and handed it over as Thompson crowded up to read it as well.

"... search the premises ... address is right ... firearms, narcotics and biker paraphernalia. ... What the h.e.l.l is biker paraphernalia biker paraphernalia?"

McMillan-Fowler gestured expansively with one hand. "Patches, literature, signs, stuff like that."

"Oh."

I turned to Thompson, who was holding his own copy of the paper.

"Looks okay?"

"Looks fine."

I stepped away and made a grand gesture. "Come in, come in, mi casa es su casa mi casa es su casa. Coffee and donuts are on the kitchen table. And there's what looks to be some crack cocaine and some kind of tablets planted in our garbage pile by the alley."

Everyone froze at that but then the big cop and McMillan-Fowler went out the back while the others stood staring at the table and at me. Claire had gone out at 6:00 that morning before I had woken up and the pastries were arranged on little napkins along with a big urn of coffee in the dining room. The big RCMP officer stepped back in and slung his jacket over his left arm. He didn't mention the stuff outside and gestured at the table.

"Looks familiar."

McMillan-Fowler came in and the cops scattered through the house while Thompson scurried after them to keep them honest. Claire and Fred were sitting together on the sofa by the window and playing with a bit of string. I'd chained the dog up outside and he barked every few minutes, more curious than angry.

I turned to the Mountie who'd commented on the coffee and donuts. "It should. I got the idea from Twin Peaks Twin Peaks."

He looked blankly at me and I continued defensively. "Obscure social referent."

"Yes, I was just remembering. The table in the rear of the town's cop shop, the flaky secretary set up a spread like this every day for the local police."

I was impressed. "You've got a good memory."

He nodded politely and faced me silently before walking back into my home. The front door was still open and I could see a big, black panel truck parked just down the street. Leaning against it were five men wearing black uniforms and carrying heavy-a.s.sault weapons. With difficulty I ignored them and Claire came up beside me, still holding Fred. "Whatcha thinking, love?"

I motioned at the cops with a twist of my neck. "Two Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine guns, blow back action, very accurate, reliable, prime; five thousand dollars each. One Colt M-16A2 or a.s.sorted variants a.s.sault rifle, full or semi-auto; two thousand dollars. One Remington 870 pump shotgun with extended magazine; about five hundred dollars. One Remington M-700 accurized rifle with variable scope, probably in 7.62 mm or 7 mm magnum, maybe point 300 Winchester; about twelve hundred."

"Hmmm. So, in other words, college for Fred?"

"Yep. Or you."

She kissed my lips and we turned back into the house before answering.

"Not me. Been to college."

"You dated frat boys, there's a difference."

She held my hand and responded, "You're probably right."

[image]

"Sir? Sir?"

One of the cops from upstairs came racing down the stairs, holding a big plastic bag. In it was the Mauser bayonet that I had left beside the bed, but before I could say a word, Atismak spoke.

"What is that?"

"A sword. I found it upstairs."

The Mountie was young and had barely grown into his black walrus mustache and he looked very happy indeed. Atismak, however, did not look happy, he looked very tired all of a sudden.

"May I see it?"

He took the bag and held it up. "Not a sword. Not a knife, either. A bayonet?"

Claire was tense but I was watching Atismak's face when I answered. "Right. From a Mauser rifle, model 1871. I bought it in an Edmonton p.a.w.n shop. They used great steel back then, keeps a good edge."

Atismak handed it to me. "Right. Now, Officer ..."

He turned to face the cop, who kept his eyes on the bayonet. "Did you read the search warrant I gave you yesterday?"

"Yes."

Atismak didn't wait. "That's, yes, sir."

"Right, sir. Yes, sir."

"Good. The warrant read 'Narcotics. Guns. Biker paraphernalia.' Is that bayonet you grabbed narcotics, guns, or biker paraphernalia?"

The cop was silent and Atismak went on. "So, it's cutlery. Why don't you wait outside and we'll talk later."

The young Mountie went and I brought Atismak one of the mismatched pairs of coffee cups.

"Coffee? Cream and sugar are over there."

"Thank you."

He limped over in considerable pain to doctor his own cup and I squeezed Claire's shoulder gently through her blouse. "That is a smart cop."

She blew into Fred's belly, which made him squeal, and answered in a monotone. "Contradiction."

"Well, that's that."

McMillan-Fowler had come back down with Thompson as the other cops trooped out. Atismak had never left my side and now he put down his fourth cup of coffee, shrugged into his coat, and gave me a barely perceptible nod, like he was thanking me.

Before they could go, I asked, "Now that it's all over, can I ask why you searched my house?"

Atismak looked at McMillan-Fowler, who made a polite face, before answering. "I don't see why not. I can't see that investigation going anywhere."

I looked at both of them. "Right. Okay, ignoring the stuff out back ..."