Bad People (5 page)

She lied. “No.”

“We were twelve. My parents caught us. No more girls upstairs after that. Pretty good for my reputation around the house, I can tell you. There are worse things for a boy of twelve to get caught at I can tell you.”

Not much worse things for a girl to be caught at, though, not in those days.

“So what do you think Robb was up to when you and I were twelve, Connie?” said Barry with a cutting edge in his voice. “Out of college? Trekking in Nepal and planting trees in Nicaragua I suspect.”

Robb had done both those things, and they were hardly things to sneer at. Still it was hard not to pity Barry for making such a feeble attempt to fight through his resentment, sneering at Robb.

“Come around here Connie. Look at this. Look what I found.”

He was facing his childhood closet. The door was open and, inside, were boxes stacked to the ceiling. He’d promised his mother many times, especially after his father died, that he’d come and sort through them. He had some old toys: Lincoln Logs, action figures, and things, that his friend at the comic book store had told him might be collectable.

He bent down and fumbled with something between his feet, when she came around she could see that it was an old leather valise, sort of looked like an old doctor’s bag. He closed it quickly to prevent her seeing inside. He pointed up behind the stacks into the ceiling of the closet. Cut into it was a cubbyhole.

“Remember, I used to stash my magazines in there?”

She didn’t say anything and he glanced at her resentfully. “I threw them away years ago, I think. At least I hope I did. I’d hate to think my Mom found them and that
that
is what really killed her.” Barry picked up the bag and placed it on the bed. “Anyway, they’re not up there now. Instead, I found this.” He open the bag. She looked in.

Hundreds, fifties and twenties, some in paper bank bands, some rubber-banded, some even paper-clipped. He took the packets out while she watched.

“Is there a ledger or anything?” she asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to see,” he said testily. The bag was musty. Connie coughed. There was no paperwork of any kind.

She guess there was ten or fifteen thousand dollars altogether. “Wow,” was all she could say.

“Yeah,” said Barry.

“Did you know your parents did things like that?”

“Meaning what?”

“That’s a lot of money to have in the house, is all.”

“There could be a lot of explanations for this.”

“Of course there could. I’m not implying anything.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone about this. Not yet anyway. Okay, Connie?”

“Okay.”

“Not even Robb.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Why wouldn’t you want Robb to know?”

“Is that a big deal?”

“He’s my husband.”

“Do you have to tell him everything?”

“Well I should. A spouse should.”

“Will you tell Robb I tried to kiss you?”

“Barry, that can’t happen again.”

“Gotcha.”

“Don’t sound resentful.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he waived his hands. He was humiliated, but she couldn’t think of a way to avoid it. “All right, but are you going to tell him?”

That surprised her. “No, Barry I am not going to ‘tell’ Robb.” What were they, twelve again? Barry was acting like Robb was her parent.

“You don’t have to tell him about this money either.”

“No. I don’t
have
to tell him about the money either. We are
both
your friends, Barry. It’s like you don’t trust him.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

She felt the hair on the nape of her neck rise. “I don’t know that he’s ever—
ever
—given
you
any reason not to trust
him
! We’ve had a good partnership. The three of us. We’ve helped you and you’ve helped us more times than I can count. You stand there and tell me you don’t trust him? I should go.”

“I think you should.”

She started to turn, and he called out. “No! Wait! Don’t run away! It’s not that I
really
don’t trust you guys. That’s crazy. I know Robb would never
do
anything. It’s like…. Do I have to have a reason?”

She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. “I suppose that’s up to you.”

“Thanks. It’s stupid, I know. I’ll probably tell him myself in a few days. I’m…. Connie, do you think I’m getting weird?”

There was a pause. Then she laughed quickly. She waved the question away with an off-handed gesture. At least she hoped it appeared off-handed. “Barry, what I think is that you are under a lot of stress.”

He nodded, and tried to laugh it off himself. but she knew by his tearing eyes that she had failed to keep her real feelings hidden behind her feigned laugh, and false words.
Yes, you’re weird
.

And getting weirder
.

Chapter 5: Luke, Barry

For safety, they ought to have met in a different place. Or not. Luke thought that, thought it both ways. Meet at the same coffee shop and risk someone noticing him and Barry together there twice, or some other place and have Barry able to associate him with two different locales.

He decided on the public library, downtown, and he had arranged it. At eleven in the morning two days after the completion of the contract, Barry was to go to the third floor and leave an envelope on a pre-designated back-row shelf. Luke would be watching, and move in quickly for the pick-up. They probably would not see each other but, even if they did, they would not speak to each other.

Luke sat at a table among rows of tables, near the magazines. A yellow-vested security guard came through frequently, but his job was only to ensure that the homeless weren’t sleeping. Besides Luke and the library staff, only homeless occupied the library, that particular morning. The homeless came out of boredom or to use the computers. Nobody used the Seattle library for books. Luke had grabbed a stack of
Business 2.0
and
Forbes
magazine but he could not look at them. He’d been in the library an hour, since 10:30 by the wall clock, and became concerned. He considered calling Barry, but he had no cell phone, and the only payphones were on another floor. If he left to go use them, Barry might come and make the drop when Luke couldn’t see him.

Luke got up and wandered to the back row of shelves, to see if the envelope was there and he had somehow missed Barry altogether.

A little kid was back there, out of place, because the kid’s books weren’t even in that floor. The kid was running and skidding repeatedly on the slick linoleum. When he saw Luke, who was wearing a suit, the kid stopped short. Luke crossed his arms and stared at the kid until the kid went away. Luke checked the spot. No envelope. He turned to go back to the tables and collect his thoughts. Barry came around the corner. He didn’t seem surprised to see Luke standing there.

Luke extravagantly checked his wrist as if reading a watch.

“Know who found him? His son,” said Barry.

“Don’t talk,” Luke said. Barry stood there, looking down—pointedly
not
looking at Luke that is, as if somehow Luke and only Luke were to blame for this. “Would you rather Connie found him?”

Barry looked up, then—Luke couldn’t believe it—lunged.

He easily caught Barry’s arm, which was going toward his throat, but the unexpectedness of the assault caused him to stumble backward and almost lose his balance. He laughed involuntarily from the absurdity of all this. Taking a firm hold on Barry’s wrist he yanked forward, sidestepped, and Barry stumbled too, to one knee, pushed himself up, whirled.

To Luke’s amusement Barry was glaring at him and his fists clenched tight.

“Want to try it again, Barry? You still look angry.”

“Eff you.”

“Keep your voice down. Let’s do what we came here to do.”

“Don’t ever mention her name. Ever.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, but it’s done.”

Barry reached into his fleece vest and pulled out the envelope, threw it to the floor at Luke’s feet. “
Now
it’s done.”

“Pick that up,” said Luke.

“Eff you!”

Luke wondered if Barry even realized that he was saying
eff
you
, not
fuck you
, or if he knew how silly that sounded. “Pick it up Barry.”

“You smashed his skull in.”

“Things get complicated.”

“They sure do! For me. You said it would be easy.”

“You didn’t have to do anything.”

“Whoever did this must have had something against him, that’s what they’re going to say. I thought you would make it look like an accident or…“ he faltered.

“Or what?”

Barry said nothing.

“You didn’t specify anything like that,” said Luke. “you willingly left the details to me. The expert.”

Barry cut the air with a swipe of his hand, then tried to muscled past Luke. Luke seized him under the armpit, then seized his wrist, and bent Barry’s arm back. Barry yelped. Luke told him to shut up and kept bending the arm until Barry’s knees buckled, forcing him down.

A homeless man happened down the aisle. Luke froze him with a look, and ordered him to go away by shaking his head. The man stepped backwards, miming sneaking away the way he’d come, like a silent-movie actor.

“Pick it up,” Luke said again to Barry.

Reaching out with his free hand, Barry obeyed.

Luke released him. Rubbing his wrist, Barry started the stand. Luke didn’t want that and shoved him. Barry spun comically, and stumbled into a shelf. He went back to his knees and stayed there, holding his eye, which he had banged pretty good against the shelf. He fought to control his breath.

Luke opened the envelope and took out ten of the one-hundred-dollar bills. He thought better of it, and made it five. He held these out toward Barry. “You’re not completely satisfied. Okay. Here.”

Barry, face red, made no move to take the money. Luke finally gave up and pushed the bills down the front of Barry’s fleece. “Wait a few minutes before you leave,” he said.

Luke walked away. At the end of the row he turned back, wanting to say something though he didn’t know what. Barry was still on the floor breathing hard, his eyes still on Luke. Not how he expected to see his first client for the final time.

He took the escalator down, and on the next floor, a kid spotted him, tugged his mother’s arm and pointed. After a moment Luke realized this was the kid he’d run off behind the stacks. The mother glared at him and approached, trying to block his turn to the next escalator. “Excuse me sir, why are you bothering children?”

Luke said nothing, and stepped on the next escalator. She said it again, yelled it, and heads of librarians working behind their counter spun in his direction. Child in tow, she followed him. Luke walked down the moving steps, but at a casual pace. At the bottom he stepped past the guard. The woman called down, accusing Luke loudly of harassing her son. The guard said something to Luke, but Luke ignored him.

He reached the exit, hearing key’s jangle as the guard turned. Outside, Luke hopped six steps down to the sidewalk, then bolted across the street, stopping busses. He ran down one more block, a steep concrete slope down. He stopped there to see if anyone was behind him. No one was.

Chapter 6: Barry, Stephen-David

“Yeah but
why
are you sorry?”

The words struck Barry dumb. most of the guests had left the wake. He’d been trying to express his sympathy to Stephen-David since then. He hadn’t expected Connie’s son to be cheerful, or anything but his usual enigmatic self, but this was hostile. “Another soda?” Barry asked finally. He stood up.

Stephen-David shook his head. They had Bass and Guinness, because a Black & Tan had been Robb’s favorite drink. Mixing them proved to complicated for the wake however, so mostly it was black
or
tan, and Barry had had several Bass ales and he wanted another one. The catering staff was busy packing up. Barry went over, got one on his own, grabbed a Coke also, and took them back to the corner where Stephen-David was moping. Last Barry had seen of Connie, she was helping Robb’s ancient and obscure maiden aunt out of the hall.

Stephen-David took the soda that Barry offered him with a not-unfriendly glance. Barry pulled the chair closer and sat back down.

“I should’ve had my friends here too,” said Stephen-David.

“Aren’t they?”

Stephen-David looked at him as if he were stupid. “Do you see anyone who looks like a friend of mine.”

Barry knew most everyone who’d come to the wake. Some were family; the majority were business friends. “I guess not. Why didn’t you invite any them?”