Ravens. Part 10

Directly above him, staring down at him, was an animal, wedged into the wheel well. No telling what species it was. The gases of decomposition had swollen its eyes halfway out of their sockets, which gave it a look of fury, of a bottled-up avenging hatred looking for release. It held up its bony forelimbs: the claws were out, ready to kill. Oh Jesus, and Shaw thought it had come to bring us luck. luck. But all this time, it had been riding along down there, radiating resentment and foulness and putrefaction. Who knows how it managed to get stuck up there? Must have jumped at the wrong moment, or the wheel had kicked it up and it had snagged on something. And probably had lived for a while. Maybe survived the whole journey, all the way down here to Georgia, watching the highway pa.s.sing underneath, the broken white line, the merciless unraveling of everything it had ever f.u.c.king cared about. But all this time, it had been riding along down there, radiating resentment and foulness and putrefaction. Who knows how it managed to get stuck up there? Must have jumped at the wrong moment, or the wheel had kicked it up and it had snagged on something. And probably had lived for a while. Maybe survived the whole journey, all the way down here to Georgia, watching the highway pa.s.sing underneath, the broken white line, the merciless unraveling of everything it had ever f.u.c.king cared about.

He tried to keep meeting the animal's eyes, but the odor was asphyxiating him. Maggots were seething up there, and bits of loose gravel dug into his back. He'd had enough. He slithered out and lay there in the sun, gasping for breath.

He drove to a self-service car wash just off the Altama Connector. He used the long nozzle of the soap squirter to dig the creature out of the wheel well. The bulk of the carca.s.s fell to the concrete in one piece, with a soft thud. One side of the animal was concave and perfectly smooth - maybe at some point it had been pus.h.i.+ng up against the wheel? He coaxed it into a black plastic trash bag which he tied shut, then used the hose to blast away the vestiges, and then, since he was there anyway, he decided to clean the rest of the Tercel - clean it thoroughly, inside and out. With soap and hot wax and finally the vacuum. At the end of his labors, the car still looked like an old beat-up lunchbox, but now it was a s.h.i.+ny old beat-up lunchbox.

He went to Ace and bought a collapsible spade, and took a lap around his patrol route, hunting for a good spot to bury this poor soul, some place with a clear view of marshes and stars and the moon.

Burris, the old cop, finally gave in. He'd been fighting the desire all day, but at last he surrendered and drove past Nell's bungalow, just to get a glimpse of her. the old cop, finally gave in. He'd been fighting the desire all day, but at last he surrendered and drove past Nell's bungalow, just to get a glimpse of her.

He looked through her kitchen window and there she was, feeding her cats. She seemed so at home that it occurred to him maybe she wouldn't leave Brunswick after all. Despite the wind-fall. Really, you think about it, why should she? Her whole life is here. She's not going to just uproot herself and go dancing off to France, that wouldn't be like her at all.

Which led him to a surprising and happy thought. Maybe the jackpot would even work in his favor. Because after the phonies and the scavengers start to cl.u.s.ter around, wouldn't she come to appreciate the one guy who had always cared for her? The one guy she could trust? And then, the money that he had made or hadn't made, or his rank in the police department, or whether he was slow-witted or not, or bald and jowly or not: all that wouldn't matter so much, would it?

If Nell could just hear what her heart was telling her.

At Rt. 17 he turned north. Pursuing his usual counterclockwise patrol route around the city. The sunlight faltered, and he glanced up and saw a bank of black stormcloud coming from the west. Its shadow rolling over the marsh. He thought, well, we could use some rain here. He took a right onto Riverside Road, which was a long causeway that wound through the marsh toward an enclave of wealthy houses. Some of the city commissioners lived out here, so no amount of patrolling was too much.

A brown Toyota Tercel was parked on the shoulder, in the gra.s.s -'91 or '92. The tag said Ohio. The driver, a white male, was taking a black garbage bag from the trunk.

Burris pulled up behind. The driver had a slight build, dark hair. He was somewhat meek of posture. But he had a friendly face.

Burris told the radio, "43, dispatch?"

Rose, sounding bored as usual, probably painting her nails, said, "Go ahead, 43."

"Out on Riverside past the first curve. Gimme a 29 on a '91 or '92 Tercel, Ohio tag JBX-681?"

The driver was waiting patiently, holding that bag. Burris didn't feel he needed the tag run, so he got out of the cruiser and approached the man and said, "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon."

"Can I ask what you got there?"

"Animal I found."

"A live animal?"

"Uh-uh. I found it up in my wheel well. I want to bury it."

"Sir, may I see your license and proof of insurance?"

The driver took out his wallet and handed over the license. Funny name. Burris puzzled over it while the guy went to the glove compartment and fished for his insurance card. When he came back, Burris asked "Sir, how do you p.r.o.nounce your last name?"

"Zuh-DER-ko."

"First name Romeo?"

"Mama knew what a lover I'd be."

Sounded like a joke, though Burris didn't get it. "And your current address is Piqua, Ohio?"

"Yes."

"And what brings you here to Brunswick?"

"Um. Vacation."

Burris took the doc.u.ments back to the cruiser and called Rose again, who told him the Tercel was registered in Zderko's name. He had her run a 27 on the OLN. Came back clean. No warrants. Everything good. He returned the papers to Zderko, and said, "Sir, may I see the animal?"

"Sure. But it'll be, well, when I open this bag, the smell will be powerful, OK? Just warning you."

"I'll try to be ready."

"All right then."

Zderko undid the tie.

Burris looked in and saw a lump of fur and cartilage and bones. The smell slapped him across the face, and brought tears to his eyes. "Whoa."

"Yeah."

"That's ripe. ripe."

"That's what I been living with."

"You can close it now."

Zderko retied the bag.

Burris asked, "How long's it been dead?"

"About forty-eight hours. What's today, Friday? Well, Wednesday night, I was coming down through North Carolina? And I hit this thing and it must have been thrown up into the wheel well somehow, but I didn't even know it till a little while ago."

"I see."

"But I smelled it, you know? I mean, G.o.d. It happens quick, doesn't it?"

"Sir?"

"I mean the way things rot."

"Yes sir."

"But I didn't know what I was smelling till I looked up in there."

"You're planning to bury it, sir?"

"Uh-huh."

"Where?"

"Just, I don't know. Here, I guess."

"Not a good idea."

"Is it illegal?"

"Unless you got permission from the owner."

"Who's the owner?"

"Hercules, Incorporated. That big chemical plant down the way?"

"Oh. OK. So what can I do with this thing?"

"Well."

It was a good question.

Zderko pressed. "I mean, you're saying I could just throw it away, that'd be OK, but it's against the law to treat it with any kind of dignity?"

Burris mulled this. "No sir, I'm not saying you can't treat it with dignity. You could treat it with all the dignity you want and that'd be fine, but you can't trespa.s.s here, because this land belongs to Hercules, Incorporated."

A flock of grackles went by, racing for cover from the storm.

Said Zderko, "I can't afford to buy a cemetery plot."

"I understand."

"I was just trying to do right by this animal."

"I see that."

"It sucks that it got carried all the way down here where it's a complete stranger, far away from its home, and now I just toss it in a dumpster or something. You know?"

Then Burris surprised himself. He said, "Sir, you see that little stick with the strip of yellow tape? Everything beyond that stick belongs to the city of Brunswick. I'm not saying you're allowed to bury anything out there. I am am saying, whatever you do, don't leave no plastic bag behind." He glanced up at the sky. "And you better hurry. You hear me?" saying, whatever you do, don't leave no plastic bag behind." He glanced up at the sky. "And you better hurry. You hear me?"

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

"All right."

It was like nothing Burris had ever done before. It was: I really give not a d.a.m.n what you do with that sack of rotted meat, provided you do it when I'm not around.

He got back into the cruiser and drove away. Glad that he hadn't been too by-the-book there. If what's called for is a little tolerance, a little understanding, why not give that? It made him wonder, have I finally found the secret to being a successful cop? Mercy, maybe I have. Forty years too late though.

Mitch was reading the Psalms: was reading the Psalms: Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies. Why standest thou afar off, O LORD? why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble? Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies. Why standest thou afar off, O LORD? why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?

He heard Patsy weeping in the kitchen. He thought of going to comfort her, but the rhythm of her sobs told him she was drunk, and what could he say to her anyway? h.e.l.l had come into their lives.

Consider mine enemies; for they are many; and they hate me with cruel hatred. Consider mine enemies; for they are many; and they hate me with cruel hatred.

He thought, we have to stand up to him. Now. Now's the time to call the police. Is the b.a.s.t.a.r.d so arrogant and c.o.c.ksure and self-deluded that he thinks I'll just sit here while he goes off to a poker party with my daughter and my own mother, while he threatens the lives of my family, while he steals half my fortune? Oh Lord. It'd be so easy to nab him. One phone call. Call that old cop Burris Jones who goes to our church. Or maybe Burris isn't the best choice since he seems kind of slow and dreamy and sad - but any any cop. Just lay out the whole story. Tell them to grab Shaw right after he takes one of those check-in calls. Then they'll have plenty of time to look for that 'Romeo' guy. Probably his car's got Ohio plates, so they'll find him easy - but even if they don't, we can round up all my family and friends and put them under 24-hour protection and then what could the guy do to us? cop. Just lay out the whole story. Tell them to grab Shaw right after he takes one of those check-in calls. Then they'll have plenty of time to look for that 'Romeo' guy. Probably his car's got Ohio plates, so they'll find him easy - but even if they don't, we can round up all my family and friends and put them under 24-hour protection and then what could the guy do to us?

O my G.o.d, make them like a wheel; as the stubble before the wind. As the fire burneth a wood, and as the flame setteth the mountains on fire; So persecute them with thy tempest, and make them afraid with thy storm. O my G.o.d, make them like a wheel; as the stubble before the wind. As the fire burneth a wood, and as the flame setteth the mountains on fire; So persecute them with thy tempest, and make them afraid with thy storm.

Not that they'd really carry through on those threats anyway. It was all a bluff. This whole deal was just two smarta.s.s kids thinking they'd found themselves a pot of gold, except they weren't professionals and they didn't know what they were in for. When Mitch stood up to them, the wind would be at his back.

Let them be as chaff before the wind: and let the angel of the LORD chase them. Let their way be dark and slippery: and let the angel of the LORD persecute them. Let them be as chaff before the wind: and let the angel of the LORD chase them. Let their way be dark and slippery: and let the angel of the LORD persecute them.

He heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. A moment later, Shaw and Tara came in, loudly. They were drunk. Shaw declaring, "We took a taxi. n.o.body in no condition to drive. G.o.d. Mitch, your mother fleeced us. Didn't she, Tara?"

"She fleeced you you," said Tara - and Mitch thought he detected coquettishness in her tone. Ah, G.o.d. My daughter is flirting flirting with him? Son of a b.i.t.c.h. with him? Son of a b.i.t.c.h.

Break their teeth, O G.o.d, in their mouth: break out the great teeth of the young lions, O LORD. Break their teeth, O G.o.d, in their mouth: break out the great teeth of the young lions, O LORD.

Tara went into the kitchen to find her mother. While Shaw came over to the desk. "What you up to there, Mitch?"

"Nothing."

"Reading Scripture? I'm impressed. Hey, did the lottery folks call? Have they scheduled the press conference yet?"

"Tomorrow. Eleven o'clock."

"G.o.d. Great. That should be a blast."

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d kept standing there, while Mitch read: Consume them in wrath! Consume them, that they may not be! And let them know that G.o.d ruleth in Jacob unto the ends of the earth!

Tara came back from the kitchen. "Mom wants to know, you want red or white wine with your supper?"

Shaw laughed. "Tell your mother she's not getting me drunk. That's the cla.s.sic mistake of two-bit crooks."

"Seems like one you've already made."

"Oh, well then, if the horse is out of the barn, I'll take red." He grinned. And asked Mitch, "Hey, did I tell you your mother took us to the cleaners cleaners?"

Mitch nodded.

"That's the King James, right? You prefer the King James?"

Mitch shrugged. "I guess."

"How come?"

"Just the one I've always used."

"I know what you mean," said Shaw. "Same with me, I like the old ways best. All the beauty is in the old ways."