The Bum's Rush (30 page)

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he said when I'd finished.

"You know me, Jed. I'm universally renowned for my
keen perception of the obvious. You show me you had motive, means, and
opportunity, throw in millions of bucks, and I'm just dumb enough to
figure it was you."

"Give me half an hour," he said.

I went to the store.

Now Jed came bustling back into the dining room,
holding several more pounds of crisp bacon on a blue platter. "Right
now, as we speak, in a little cemetery on Long Island, my mother is
turning over in her grave," he announced. "To my knowledge, no member
of my family has ever been so exposed to bacon."

He divvied the slices between the greasy plates at each end of the table. The crew dove in and made it disappear in a heartbeat.

I was ahead on the eggs and toast, leaning against
the wall watching Beth Goza, who looked as if she had awakened to find
herself locked inside the gorilla cage at the zoo. She took minuscule
bites from an onion bagel with no-fat cream cheese and watched,
wide-eyed, the carnage going on about her. Duvall stood back to the
window, taking pictures of the assembled multitude with her Pentax. For
insurance purposes, she'd said.

Norman strode over to the Igloo cooler in the comer
and, with one massive hand, fished out three fresh beers. His other
hand was clasped across his middle. "You okay, Normal?" I asked.

"Musta ate somethin' a little heavy last night," he growled. "Just gotta wash it down."

Duvall lowered the camera and bent an eyebrow my way. I peered out over the length of the table, pretending not to notice her.

From the far end of the table, Selena picked up the
thread of the conversation. "Much as it pains me," she said between
bites, "I agree with old bird dog on this one. Catchin' him for
stealin' somehow just ain't enough. If he done what Leo says he done,
then he's gotta pay."

Jed repeated himself. "I'm telling you, Selena,
unless somebody turns up who was in that room when Lukkas got that
shot, no DA is going to be willing to try it, because no jury is going
to convict. It's not even circumstantial; it's inferential."

"Ain't right," she insisted before wedging another piece of toast into her mouth.

"I refuse to believe it," Goza said for the umpteenth time. "Greg loved Lukkas. It's not possible "

Jed interrupted her. "I know it's difficult for you, Miss Goza "

"Ms." she corrected. I could hear his teeth grinding.

"Try going slower," I suggested.

"Ms. Goza. I understand that he's been quite good
to you. For that matter, he's been quite good to a number of people."
He took a deep breath. "And don't for a minute think I enjoy making
accusations against a cultural icon like Mr. Conover. Among other
things, he's something of a hero of mine." Goza started to speak, but
Jed carried on. "But but Leo's scenario as to what happened is not only
the obvious answer, it's the only explanation that makes any sense at
all." He used his fingers to count. "This all starts when Lukkas sees
Selena in the alley behind the Moore and hires this Charlie Boxer to
look for her."

"Strike one for the kid," said George. "Conover
really don't need no extra cards in the deck. He's into the kid's poke
in a big way."

"Then he really screwed up," I said, "when he tried
to run a number on old Charlie. He'd have been much better off if he'd
just sent Charlie off to look for Selena. If he finds her, he finds
her. So what? Anything would have been better than trying to con
Charlie. All he managed to do was get Charlie's attention. That's when
the shit really hit the fan."

"So Charlie made Conover for his gambling jones," Big Frank rumbled. "And shook him down for the twenty-five to fix up the bar."

"For at least twenty-five," I said. "Knowing Charlie as I do " I let it hang. At last we had consensus.

"Strike two for the kid," said George. "By now,
Conover's gotta be crappin' bricks. The kid is looking for his mama,
which has got serious fly-in-the-ointment possibilities. He's moved out on his own. He's fixin' to
move his girlfriend in. The boy's gettin' more independent by the day.
On top of that, Conover's been shook down by Charlie for God knows how
much. He's gotta be sure he's lookin' at the end of the world."

I jumped in. * 'And, I think maybe worst of all,
the kid is in no hurry to release the album. As a matter of fact, he's
telling anybody who'll listen that he's gonna scrap everything and
start over. The minute anybody asks for an accounting, Conover is
screwed. He's so far into Lukkas Terry's pockets, only his feet are
sticking out. What he needs more than anything is for that new CD to
hit the stores."

"And then he gets the call," George finished.

My turn again. "Lukkas has been ranting and raving
around his new apartment ever since Beth called and told him she was
pregnant. Doing that weird role-playing thing of his. I'm bettin'
that's the voices the neighbor swears she heard. He works up this
screaming migraine. He needs a shot. Who does he call?"

"Not Ghostbusters," offered Ralph.

"He calls Conover. Come over and help me with a
shot." I shrugged. "Look at the position that puts Conover in. He's
just flat losing control of the kid. And then what happens?"

"Manna," said Normal.

"Help me with my shot, Greggy," Ralph gargled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"And Conover carpes the diem," I finished.
"Whatever else you can say about the guy, he's always known an
opportunituy when he saw one. It's the whole story of his career."

"Strike three," from George.

"Dirty bastard," Selena said under her breath.

"I still don't believe it," Goza said.

"Let me ask you this. When Conover came to you at the funeral and offered to help you, did he know you were pregnant?"

She stared at me blankly. "Sure," she said. "He,
you know, said how sad it all was. What a great loss, you know, all
that stuff, and then he said something about how he understood how a
woman in my condition could use some help at a time like this and how
he hoped I'd let him be the one. He was such a gentleman."

" 'In your condition' were his exact words?"

"Exactly." She put her chin down. "He knew; I know he did."

"So how did he find out?"

She knit her creamy brow. "That I was am pregnant?"

"Yeah. Who told him? Did you?"

"Not me." She shrugged. "Must have been Lukkas."

"And when did that happen?"

She thought it over. Stopped. And then thought it
over again. "Must have been the night I... he ... that night. He was
... It could only have been ... before I got there " It dawned on her
slowly. As she thought it through, she began to relive the sorrow.
Tears began to pour down her cheeks. "He looked so sad lying there on
the floor," she sputtered. Whatever she said next was washed away.
Everyone went silent as she cried.

When she regained some measure of control, I said,
"Conover claims he hadn't spoken to Lukkas in a couple of days. That's
what he told the cops. That's what he told me."

"Me too," she sniffled and then again began to cry.

The crew went back to eating. The sounds of working jaws and gulping throats filled the slack air. More beer.

"Damn near worked, too," Jed said. "If Leo hadn't
been so dead set on messing around with this, Conover would have just
waited for justice to ran its course, released the new record, and
buried whatever shortages there were in the ocean of money that was
about to come rolling in. He was almost home free."

"Then you guys served them papers on 'im," Selena said. "And that's when they come around lookin' for me." I nodded.

"Probably a leg-breaker named Cherokee. He works for Conover. He'd be the one. Probably figured they could scare you off."

"Or worse," observed Ralph.

"Wadda you figure Conover's doin' about now?" asked Harold.

"Shittin' his pants," said Judy.

Jed shook his head. "Uh-uh. He's hiring counsel and
preparing to hunker down and ride out the storm," he said. "As long as
he's in line for the proceeds of the new record, he's high on the hog.
Misuse of funds is one thing. So maybe he loses the radio show. Maybe
he doesn't speak at any more charity dinners. That he can live with.
Murder is another matter. He's clean on the murder. That's what's
important. At this point, he's probably better off in court than
anywhere else. No, his pants are clean."

That's what I was afraid of. Once it got reduced to the level of lawyer fodder, all things were possible.

"Before it gets down to lawyers, guns, and money,
maybe we ought to make one last effort at actual justice," I said.
"Give him one last chance to save his own ass altogether. Just one last
chance to stay the King of Seattle Rock and Roll. What say?"

"Wadda you mean?" asked George.

I turned to Jed. He met my gaze. "I think this
might be where you exit stage left, buddy. No self-respecting officer
of the court should hear what I've got in mind. They'll disbar your
miserable ass."

I knew he'd be torn. That part of him would want to
see this thing through. To jump in and work with the crew. So I made a
joke about how he was the attorney of record for all of us and reckoned
how we would probably be needing good legal advice. After a moment's
consideration, Jed reluctantly agreed and then worked his way around
the table to handshakes and hugs.

I walked him to his car and bent his ear. "When you
get home, call Conover. Tell him we're withdrawing our restraining
order. Tell him that our client has proved to be unreliable and that
we're no longer convinced she's who she says she is. Apologize. Do that
semi-humble thing you do. Hell, he was trying to get rid of her. Let
him think it worked. Put him into party mode. And then " Now I squinted
at him. "Just when it seems like he might skate again, we'll lay it on
him."

As I spoke, his eyes screwed down to mere slits.

"Be careful." He wagged a finger at me. "If you're
thinking what I think you're thinking, and it goes wrong, you could all
end up wearing those nifty orange coveralls."

"I know. That's why we need you on the outside. In case we all end up on the inside."

"You think he'll go for it?"

"I think he's real cagey. He's one of those guys
who instinctively know when to step in and when to step out. He's like
my old man that way." I held up a finger. "Where he differs from the
old man, though, is that he's got no distance at all from it. No
perspective. He's been on top for so long he thinks he belongs there. I
think if he sees a chance to hang on to it, he'll do it. Besides that,
if I'm right, he's already gotten away with it once. I hear it gets
easier."

"You think the girl is up to the task?"

I sighed. "That, my friend, is the sixty-four-thousand dollar question."

"How's the Mendolson woman doing?" I inquired.

We stood in the driveway. The sun was sucking up
the last of the morning fog, drawing it heavenward, leaving the street
seemingly draped in translucent lace. He put a hand on my shoulder.
"She's still about six thousand short."

"She couldn't get anything from her bank?"

Jed heaved a sigh. "That asshole Former refused to
verify her employment at the library. The bank gave her bubkis. I'm
giving her the weekend. After that--"

I was thinking that after that it would be Tuesday and the election would be over, but I kept my lip buttoned.

I went back inside and let the congregation in on
what I had in mind. About halfway through, the eating and drinking
stopped. Forks were poised in midair. Everybody was suddenly paying
attention.

"You figure he'll do it again, don't ya?" Selena asked.

"Last time he found himself in a similar situation, that's what he did," I said. "Old dogs, new tricks, and all that shit."

" 'Specially if we bait him right," slurred Selena.
"Somethin' easy. Somethin' he can take care of quick and simple and
then all his trouble will be over and he'll be back in the catbird
seat."

"A no-brainer," said George. "Somethin' too simple to resist."

"Something pathetic and vulnerable." Norman grinned.

"The old free lunch," leered Ralph.

She'd stopped nibbling.

"Why's everybody staring at me?" Beth Goza demanded.

"Scared?"

She nodded. We sat at the top of a long flight of
concrete stairs, the high-fenced city reservoir covering our backs.
Twenty-five steps down to the level of the natural amphitheater and the
band shell. Volunteer Park, the venue for Conover's famous Summer of
Love concerts. A little irony never hurts.

I'd coached her to insist on meeting in a public
place, just before dark. I'd wrapped the mouthpiece of DuvalFs cellular
phone in a dish towel. Even so, I'd held my breath as she'd dialed the
number. No need; she was magnificent. A woman answered. Who should she
say was calling?

"Beth," he oozed onto the line. "How you doing, Lady?"

"I know what you did."

"Excuse me?"

I thought I detected an involuntary intake of breath.

"I know what you did to Lukkas."

A long pause. "Whatever are you talking about, girl?" he joshed.

"I know you killed him," she whispered.

"Don't be absurd."

"I want a hundred thousand dollars for the baby," she blurted. "And that's just for now."

"Beth, honey--"

"Now!" she screamed. "You bring it to me."

"I'm afraid--"

She was ranting now. "You better be afraid,
you--you-- pigman," was the best she could come up with. Tell him he's
old, I thought. "You bring it to me tonight."

"Beth, honey, you need help. Let me call my--"

"Ten o'clock tonight."

"I'm going to hang up now," he said calmly.

She looked up at me. I nodded. Time to play the trump card.