The Hardest Part (A James Bishop Short Story) Page 2

  ‘I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before,’ Hawkins said. ‘You new in town?’

  ‘Let’s say I’m just passing through,’ I said, turning back to him.

  Hawkins frowned at that. ‘I see. So what kind of insurance can I help you with?’

  ‘I’m not interested in insurance. I understand you’re also a landlord, and I came to talk to you about one of your old tenants.’

  ‘I handle more than one property in town. Which one are we talking about?’

  ‘The house on Kelsey Avenue. I’d like to talk about Leonard Williamson.’

  ‘Lenny,’ Hawkins said, nodding slowly. ‘I should have known. And what business is this of yours, exactly? Because you sure don’t look like a policeman to me.’

  I smiled. ‘That’s because I’m not.’

  ‘So you’re either a private dick or a reporter, then.’

  ‘I’m neither. I’m just somebody who wants to know what happened to the guy, that’s all. And since this was the last place he was seen, here I am.’

  ‘You’ve still got to have a reason, though. What’s Lenny to you?’

  ‘He’s just somebody I knew a long time ago.’

  Hawkins raised an eyebrow. ‘And it took you this long to start looking for him? No offence, mister, but I’m not in the habit of giving out information on my old tenants to anybody who just strolls into my office. Unless they got a badge, that is. Which you don’t. So I’m sorry, but unless there’s something else you need …?’

  It looked as though this needed an altogether different approach, so I stood up and walked over to the two shots of men in ACU gear. They were all smiling at the camera. I was able to pick out a much younger Hawkins in both shots easily enough. The years hadn’t changed him a great deal. But I was more interested in the mountains in the distant background.

  ‘Those look like the Alborz Mountains,’ I said.

  Hawkins came over. ‘You got a good eye. That’s them, all right. And that’s me and the guys in the Balkh Province in Afghanistan, 2004 and 2005. What a mess that was, let me tell you. You serve over there?’

  ‘Not there, no. And not with the Army.’

  ‘But you served?’

  ‘I put in my time.’

  ‘Who with? Air Force? Navy?’

  ‘Marine Corps.’

  ‘Jarhead, huh?’ He studied my face. ‘And something tells me you saw your fair share of action too. Don’t tell me. Special forces?’

  ‘Nothing so glamorous. Although I was part of the Fleet Antiterrorist Security Team for the last couple of years of my tour, and I have to admit there were a few missions in there that got my blood pumping.’

  ‘Yeah? And who led those operations? You?’

  ‘Sometimes. I was one of two sergeants in the unit. We alternated.’

  ‘Uh huh. So just the one tour of duty for you, was it?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘So why’d you leave in the end?’

  I smiled with one side of my mouth. ‘Lot of reasons. One of them was that I thought everything would be different on the outside.’

  Hawkins sighed and nodded. ‘Yeah, me too. You’d a thought we’d know better.’

  We were both quiet for a moment as we looked at the photos. I was busy thinking through my options if this didn’t pan out. Because one thing I knew for a fact: there were always other options. It was just a matter of finding them.

  But it seemed I’d passed some sort of test, because Hawkins finally shrugged and said, ‘Okay, so what do you want to know?’

  IV

  We sat down again, and I said, ‘Why the change of heart?’

  ‘Bored, I guess. It’s been a slow day and a vet’s still a vet, even if he’s a jarhead.’ Hawkins leaned back in his seat and smiled as he grabbed a coffee mug from his desk and took a sip of whatever it contained. ‘So go ahead, ask your questions, and I’ll decide whether I want to answer them or not.’

  ‘Okay, how long did Lenny end up renting from you?’

  ‘Just over two years,’ he said. ‘Twenty-six months, to be exact.’

  ‘Was he a good tenant?’

  ‘Well, I’ve had worse, believe me. Kid rarely gave me any problems and paid his rent on time, which is a major plus in my book. I told him right out that a single guy might be better off with one of the apartments on the other side of town, but he said he really dug that one-bedroom house on Kelsey, so once I’d confirmed that he had a job at the Rogan factory I was happy to rent it to him. Along with a month’s deposit, of course, which came in handy the way things turned out. Man, nobody was more surprised than me when he just upped and left the way he did, but I guess you can never really know anybody, right?’

  ‘I take it you’re referring to the robbery at this same factory a couple of years back.’

  Hawkins snorted. ‘Course I am. Biggest thing to hit this town in decades, let me tell you. Folks round here still haven’t got bored talking about it.’

  ‘And the factory’s that big building next to the water tower, right?’

  ‘Right. You probably saw all Rogan’s peanut crops on the drive into town. Well, the factory’s where they turn those same crops into delicious peanut butter. At least, they tell me it’s delicious. I wouldn’t know. I’m allergic to the stuff, myself.’

  ‘So did Lenny fit in okay? Within the town community, I mean.’

  ‘How would I know?’ Hawkins said with a shrug. Then he frowned and added, ‘Although he and a few of his worker pals did help put out a fire at the Baptist church one time, so he probably made a lot of friends that day. Even got his picture in the local rag, which he wasn’t too happy about for some reason.’

  I already knew about the church fire. It was seeing that photo in The Calhoun Post archives that had led me to Sagamore in the first place. And I also knew the reason why Lenny wouldn’t have been happy about having his face in the paper.

  ‘So tell me about the girl,’ I said.

  ‘Huh? What you talking about? What girl?’

  ‘Well, Sagamore’s not exactly a major hot spot, is it? There had to be something that made Lenny decide he wanted to stick around for as long as he did, and since I can’t see shift work at the local factory being the reason, that means he must have got hooked in by a girl somewhere along the way. That’s usually how it works.’

  The insurance man smiled at me. ‘Yeah, well, you’re right. There was a girl. It was pretty serious too, but she never moved in with him. Although maybe she should have. I dunno. It might have changed how things turned out.’

  ‘Has she got a name?’

  ‘Kim Riley. Local girl, and real pretty, too. But choosy with it. Not your average slut, like a lot of ’em are nowadays. Man, plenty of white boys around here would have killed to have been in Lenny’s shoes, let me tell you.’

  ‘Killed? Really?’

  ‘Figure of speech. You know what I mean.’

  I nodded. ‘So when Lenny left town all of a sudden, he left this Kim behind as well?’

  ‘Right. Maybe he just liked cash more than cooze. He sure wouldn’t be the first.’

  ‘What about this robbery at the Rogan factory? How much was taken in total?’

  ‘Just over a hundred and twenty grand. And I don’t need to tell you that that’s a hell of a lot of money for one guy, even in this day and age.’

  ‘You seem fairly sure Lenny was the one behind it.’

  Hawkins made a face. ‘Well, the safe was broken into and the money stolen late Friday night, and no signs of any break-in, which means it had to be an inside job. I even remember the date. It was February thirteen. Black Friday. Then on Saturday morning one of Lenny’s pals at the factory calls on him and finds the house empty. No sign of Lenny and all his clothes and personal things are gone. That brings Sheriff Walters to the scene, and the next day he discovers the Williamson name is a complete fake, and that maybe the Leonard part is phoney too. Now how does that all sound to you?’

  ‘Not too good, I a
dmit.’ I didn’t tell him that Leonard’s real surname was actually Maybourne, or that his first name was genuine. It would open up too many questions I didn’t want to get into. ‘So the cops think he just bided his time for two years, waiting for the right moment, then blew the safe one night and immediately vanished with the proceeds?’

  ‘Why not? Weirder things have happened.’

  ‘It’s also possible he was framed for the robbery.’

  ‘I guess anything’s possible, but why’d he vanish the next day if he was innocent?’

  ‘That’s the question, isn’t it? So I take it this Kim was pretty broken up about it?’

  ‘Yeah, you could say that. Especially as she was pregnant with his kid at the time.’

  That got my attention. ‘Really? How far gone was she when he disappeared?’

  ‘Not long. Once her little girl popped out, we all counted back nine months and it turns out she would have been four weeks pregnant at the time Lenny did his vanishing act.’

  ‘Four weeks,’ I said. ‘So there’s a good chance neither of them were aware she was pregnant at that point.’

  Hawkins took another sip from his cup. ‘Or maybe he knew and he decided it was time to get out of Dodge while he still could. Along with a shitload of cash, of course.’

  Like he’d said, anything was possible. But I didn’t think that was the answer. ‘And is this Kim still around?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, she’s still around. Still works at the clothing store on the next block, still lives with her sister too, and …’ He paused.

  ‘And?’ I prompted.

  ‘And she even went back to her old boyfriend, which possibly wasn’t the smartest move that girl ever made.’

  ‘Why? Who is he?’

  ‘Guy called Calvin Wilcox. He kept on chasing after her again once Lenny left until she finally gave in, I guess. Didn’t seem to bother him that she was carrying another guy’s kid, either, which is a point in his favour, at least. He works over at the goober factory too, along with his constant shadow, Bobby Fairlane.’ Shaking his head, he smiled and said, ‘Bobby the dummy, we all call him, but not to his face. Man, anytime there’s trouble at the Lifter on a Friday night it’s a good bet that fool’ll be at the heart of it.’

  ‘The town bad boy, huh?’

  ‘Kind of. He used to amateur box in his teens, but it seemed to me he was getting knocked out every week, which probably rattled what few brains he had to begin with. Now he prefers to spend his time drinking beer, and he gets pretty mean when he’s had a few, too.’

  I considered that for a moment. I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself, but I could already see a clear motive developing for anybody willing to look. ‘So Calvin’s the definite brains of the duo.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Without a doubt.’

  ‘And he and Kim were a tight item before Lenny came along?’

  Hawkins stretched both arms above his head. ‘Nah, she’d given Calvin the heave-ho a year or so previous, but I do know he was always pining for her, trying to get her back. You see her around town, you’ll understand why. Some girls can naturally do that to a man.’

  ‘So once Lenny and Kim started dating, how did Calvin take it? Badly?’

  Hawkins shook his head. ‘You’d a thought so, but actually the opposite happened. He and Lenny became pretty good friends over time, I think. I’d often see the three of them on Saturday mornings in Bobby’s pick-up, heading off to do some fishing in the next town.’

  Interesting. Which led me to another thought. ‘So this friend who called at Lenny’s place the morning after the robbery. That wouldn’t have been Calvin, by any chance?’

  Hawkins looked at me. ‘Good guess. Yeah, that’s exactly who it was.’

  V

  After thanking Hawkins for his time, I left and retraced my steps towards the clothing store I’d passed before, thinking over what he’d told me. I was curious to see this small-town beauty with my own eyes. I also hoped to ask her one or two questions, although I wasn’t holding out too much hope on that score. But you never know until you try.

  I was just crossing the intersection to the next block when I noticed a sheriff’s department cruiser up ahead, crawling towards me at a snail’s pace. The white Crown Victoria was the only car moving on the street. As I reached the sidewalk, it pulled into the kerb a few feet ahead and the driver leaned a beefy black forearm on the window frame and stared at me. His skin was just a shade lighter than Hawkins’ and a thick goatee covered the lower part of his face. His eyes were large and intense. As soon as I saw the word SHERIFF stitched above his right shirt pocket, I knew this had to be Walters.

  ‘Help you?’ he said, looking up at me.

  I stopped and frowned at him. ‘With what?’

  ‘Looks to me like maybe you’re lost.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s actually possible in a town this size, but thanks for asking.’

  ‘How about showing me some ID, then, if it’s not too much trouble.’

  ‘It’s no trouble.’ I’d been hassled by cops enough times to know better than to argue. Especially with small-town cops. Moving slowly, I reached into my inside jacket pocket and pulled out my billfold, then extracted my New York driver’s licence and handed it to him.

  Walters looked it over carefully, then opened the driver’s door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He was a big, bulky man about a couple of inches taller than me, probably six-three or thereabouts, and he was in good shape. He perched on the hood of his vehicle and said, ‘Kind of a long way from home, aren’t you, Mr James Bishop?’

  ‘I guess. Mind telling me what I did wrong, Sheriff?’

  Walters flicked my licence with a large index finger. ‘Just received word about an incident on Kelsey Avenue a little while ago. Don’t suppose you were around that particular area at around three o’clock, were you?’

  ‘I may have been. What was the incident?’

  ‘It was an altercation involving two adult males. One was a Ramon Vasquez and the other was an unnamed man who fits your general description.’

  ‘Oh, that. It was just a misunderstanding. No big deal.’

  ‘That so? Mind telling me what about?’

  ‘It was nothing really. I was just walking around the area and I stopped to admire this Chevy pick-up for a few seconds. Then this Ramon fellow charged out of the house with a baseball bat, accused me of being a repo man and just came at me, swinging. I disarmed him and convinced him he’d made a mistake. We parted amicably enough.’

  Walters looked at me blankly for a few moments, then said, ‘You disarmed him.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By using the minimum of force.’

  ‘You sound like a guy who knows how to handle himself.’

  ‘I’ve learned a few moves over the years. And I believe it’s within my rights to defend myself from unwarranted attacks.’

  Walters nodded slowly. ‘And just what are you doing here in Sagamore, Bishop?’

  ‘Do I need a reason?’

  ‘With me, you do. As keeper of the peace it’s in my interest to know who’s who and what’s what at all times. Strangers in town fall under that category.’

  ‘You know who I am now, so I’m no longer a stranger.’

  ‘But I don’t know why you’re here yet. So how about you just tell me before I start getting annoyed?’

  ‘Okay, I was driving and my front axle died on me just outside of town. So I’m here until it’s fixed, which I’m told will be somewhere around tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘And who told you that?’

  ‘A man named Cartright. Real friendly guy.’

  Walters gave a snort as he handed me back my licence. ‘I never heard Will called that before. All right, Bishop, you seem to be on the level, but I’d sure appreciate it if you could manage to stay out of any further trouble while you’re here. Think you can do that for me?’

  ‘I’ll definitely try.’

  ‘Do
better than try,’ he said, and got back into the Crown Vic and started the engine. With a last glance at me, he pulled slowly away and then turned left at the intersection.

  Once he’d gone from sight I resumed walking in the same direction as before.

  At least he’d seemed satisfied with the reason behind my presence in town, as I’d suspected he would be. I already knew from experience that the best way to explore a tight-knit place without arousing undue suspicion is to come up with a believable cover story. And one story every decent American can accept without question is good old car trouble.

  Which was the main reason why I’d purposely sabotaged my front axle in the first place.

  VI

  Freddy’s Fashions was a unisex clothes store sandwiched between an accountancy firm on one side and a payloan store on the other. In the large display windows half a dozen male and female mannequins were dressed in a variety of unexciting casual and business clothes. A large banner promised 50% Off Everything – This Week Only. I didn’t believe a word of it.

  I pushed the door open and almost collided with a young woman carrying a little girl in the crook of her arm. The woman was fairly attractive with heavily mascaraed dark-brown eyes and a prominent nose, while the little girl wore her hair in pigtails and looked to be about two years old. In contrast to her mother, her eyes were huge light-blue marbles.

  ‘Hey, watch where you’re going,’ the woman said. ‘You almost flattened us.’

  ‘Atten-us,’ the little girl said.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, and held the door open to let them pass. As they exited, the woman shook her head at me while the cute little girl grinned at me. I smiled back.

  I closed the door behind me and looked around. The store was wide and deep and contained two wide aisles of men’s clothing on the left and two wide aisles of women’s clothing on the right. More partially dressed mannequins filled the central area of the shop, except these ones were all headless. The only other customers were two young black women in the second women’s aisle. An older black woman sat behind a large counter at the rear, looking bored as she did something on a laptop, while a much younger white woman wandered the floor, tidying some of the displays.