Borderlines (10 page)

By my rough estimate, there were over a hundred people flowing een the cafe’, the entrance hall, and the Library. At first glance, I n’t recognize anyone aside Rennie, whom I could see lurching off he bar.

That, of course, wasn’t surprising-the crowd was mostly de up of younger people, in their twenties and thirties, and many of m were firemen and their relatives from the surrounding towns. There were a few older faces, I saw finally, some of whom were iously residents of the establishment, dressed in bathrobes or wearundershirts; one was only in pajamas. Greta ran less of an inn than etirement home/hostel for the itinerant; people stayed anywhere two hours to ten years, and could do so, if they wished, in total ation. The air was hot and stagnant. I put my coat on the back of a chair near the wall and hoped I’d find it later. Then I made my way slowly toward Buster’s den.

Greta found me at the door and tried to push a beer bottle into my hand. It clinked against the one I already had. “Someone beat me to it, huh? Want a refill?” “It’s still full. Thanks.” Actually, I no longer drank beer, or anything else, for that matter. Over the years, the appeal had gone out of it.

She kissed me on the cheek, a lifetime first. “You’re a good man, Joey, and Rennie’s a ]ucky one. Your drinks are on the house tonight, so enjoy.” I could see the top of Buster’s head through the bodies and steered toward it. When he saw me, he punched the arm of the man sitting next to him and motioned him to leave.

“No, stay put,” I motioned.

Buster eyed the beer in my hand. “I thought you didn’t go in for that stuff anymore.” “I don’t. Want it?” I had to shout to make myself heard. “Hell, yes.” He drained the one he was holding and took mine.

“Greta’s doing’ all right, I guess.” “She told me I could drink free all night.” “Shit, Joe. She knows you don’t drink. I told her so.” I watched him take a long pull from his bottle. “Hard to believe five people died today.” He gave me a long, philosophical look, a little on the blank side for all the beer inside him. “That’s true, Joey, but it just doesn’t weigh the same to most people in this town-sad but true.”

He seemed content to leave it at that, so I obliged him. Philosophical ruminations obviously were not at the top of his list at the moment.

Watching him made me thirsty, if only for something like tonic water, so I began carving my way back toward the cafe/bar. As I got to the double glass doors, however, Greta’s bullhorn voice cut through the din. “Quiet down, everybody. Quiet down. I want to listen to the news. Somebody close those doors.” I was the somebody, and the word was passed to pipe down. Greta was on a stool behind the bar, fiddling with the color TV that hung there.

I was considerably less sanguine than she that this crowd would stay still for an entire news program, even with her repeated admonitions. Fortunately-or unfortunately, depending on your viewpointwe turned out to be the lead story.

“Tragedy struck the small Northeast Kingdom village of Gannet ly this morning when a fire broke out in a residence owned by a up calling itself the Natural Order. Five members, including three all children, lost their lives. They were the sole occupants of the lding.

“Firemen from five surrounding towns fought several hours to ng the blaze under control, almost losing two of their own in the rt. There is more to this story, however, than a valiant but fruitless empt to save lives and property, as our own Donna Fields discovered lier today.” My heart sank as the screen switched to a young, blond, colleged ingenue standing in front of the Atlantic Boulevard house, mike hand.

Once again, I thought back to the mess I’d left behind in attleboro.

Much of our troubles during that investigation had mmed from the overheated media attention, and the predictable litical response to it.

It suddenly looked like I might be headed for re of the same.

My fears increased as I listened to the report. The fire was dubbed ysterious,” despite Jonathon Michael’s statement that while his dings were not final, he’d found nothing suspicious about the cause the fire. The camera lingered on the gaping hole in the roof as the orter pondered the significance of the “unexplained explosion” that d almost killed two firemen, followed by some neighboring Fire Chief o said that flashover explosions were a common occurrence in struce fires. The portable water pump was the next focus of attention, with its w dramatically drained oil reservoir, which one local firefighter I n’t recognize called “real strange”-an assessment with which I uldn’t argue.

Finally, there was a long shot of several State Police isers parked alongside the road and a close-up of the “Police Line Not Cross” ribbon around the house, as the voice-over by young enda Starr stressed that a full investigation was “being launched in zs case.” Greta, still perched on her stool, hit the off button and picked me from across the room. “What do you think, Joe?” To the bottom of my soul, I wanted to be somewhere else. “It’s lly inappropriate for me to say anything.

It’s an ongoing case; the st thing is to wait for the final report.” “So there is something suspicious about it.” Another voice imed in.

I held up both my hands. “No, hold it.” I walked over to behind e bar, which was elevated slightly above the rest of the floor. “As far I know, this was an accidental fire, caused by someone falling against rickety old stove that shouldn’t have been lit in the first place.” “The guy was dead before he hit the stove.” I played dumb, although I was amazed the way these things seemed impossible to contain.

“That’s news to me.” The man speaking was the fireman who had panicked at the front door of the burning house-Paul somebody. “I saw him when they carried him out. He had his arms up like this.” He postured in a boxer’s pose.

“Like he was fighting someone when he bought it.” “That happens in a hot fire; the flames contract the muscles and bring the arms up.” “Well, I heard it from one of the State Police, too.” “And what about that pump?

Somebody must have drained it,” another voice added.

Greta joined in. “I heard the Wingates were arrested for suspicion. I saw them being driven away.” I banged a glass on the counter like a gavel. “All right, all right.

Let me tell you how it works, okay? First of all, nobody outside Hollywood gets arrested for suspicion. The Wingates were taken somewhere for questioning, and they were taken voluntarily. If they hadn’t agreed to go, they’d still be here.” “Oh, sure, and if they hadn’t agreed to go, they’d look guilty as hell.” “You don’t look guilty because you don’t cooperate: You look guilty because the facts weigh against you, and it takes a little time to accumulate those facts. Come on, now. I bet a dozen people in this room were questioned by the police today.” A few heads nodded.

“So why take them away?” Greta persisted, an edge to her voice. I knew they weren’t going to like this one. “Probably because they agreed to a lie detector test.” There was a predictable hubbub. The double doors opened and a few more people squeezed into the room. I hoped I could get this over with before word spread too far. Greta began to warm her jets. “A lie detector test? And you say there’s no suspicion?” “I said you couldn’t be arrested for suspicion. Be reasonable, Greta, you saw the fight. The police have to consider the possibility that Wingate returned to the house later.” “I talked to Ellie..

“I’m talking possibilities here,” I spoke over her. “Not alibis.

The State Police have to look at everything before they can rule anything out. That’s logical, isn’t it? For all I know, they’ll be questioning you as well, especially given your feelings about the Order.” “What are you saying?” I couldn’t believe I’d been that stupid.

“I’m just pointing out that ps have to look at everybody at the start But Greta was already craning her neck looking around the room, er face flushed. “Where’s Norm? Norm, goddamn it.” “I’m here, I’m here.” A small man with a pencil mustache raised is hand in the middle of the crowd. Just looking at him, I pegged him be one of Greta’s boyfriends.

They came and went, but they all oked roughly the same. I was impressed she got the name right.

“Wasn’t I in bed all last night, after that fight?” There was an embarrassing pause. “Answer me.” Norman gave a limp shrug. “I guess so. I was asleep.” He looked round sheepishly.

Someone snickered, there was a guffaw across the room, and lowly the entire place was swept with laughter. I took advantage of the ap and headed for the door, half-expecting to feel a spear smack me between the shoulder blades. But either Greta was being drowned out, r she too had beaten a hasty retreat, probably to murder Norm.

I found Buster standing at the door. He stepped aside and let me ass into the entrance hall. “Catching some flak?” I brushed it off.

“Not too bad. People get anxious.” He planted one big paw on my shoulder and steered me toward he counter under the main staircase.

“Things are different up here ow, Joey. Folks are angry, and the Order is catching the brunt of it. don’t think anyone’s glad those people died, but they don’t want the lame pinned on Gannet. Look at Greta.

She’s all tied up in knots ause of old-fashioned competition. The Natural Order came in, hrowing money around, and we took it. Hell, she and I are Selecten-we said they’d be good for the local economy. Now she’s going broke ‘cause of the Kingdom Restaurant. There’s a lot of that anger oin’ ‘round, blaming them so we don’t have to look in the mirror.” He tapped my cheek with his hand. “We can’t fight back at the flatlanders, or the economy, or the government, but we can take it out n the Order. They’re right here, in our own back yard; we can reach ut and squeeze ‘em. And unless this shit is straightened out fast, that’s ust what’s going to happen. Somethin’s going’ to blow.” He straightened suddenly, either struck with a new idea or reactng to a crick in his back. Then he mussed my hair. “Well, I think I’ll et one last one for the road. See you at home.” And he lumbered off oward the bar.

It had been a startling little speech, mostly because I’d thought him too drunk to give it, but it left me thinking, and a little worried.