Ambient (17 page)

"When was Pops going to be in there alone?"

"One P. M. " I said. "According to Mister Dryden. "

"That's when you set the timer for?"

"Yeah," I said. "He was going to be in there, too, earlier. "

"They'd both be in there right now, right?"

I looked at my watch; it was a few minutes past twelve. Their
fights never lasted longer than two hours.

"Uh-huh," I said. "Still arguing, I'm sure."

She took my wrist and looked at my watch, pressing the readout. She raised her arms over her head, stretching.

"They've finished," she said.

"I'd doubt it," I said. "Probably good for another half hour
or so-"

"Not anymore."

An Army billboard, barely seen as we whisked by, ordered all
to recycle all in the event there wouldn't be any more. Someone,
probably Army boys dead with boredom, had fired a tank blast
through the center of the notice. I looked at Avalon.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It went off five minutes ago," she said. Closing her eyes, she
rested her head against my shoulder.

"I set the timer for one P.M."

"I reset it for noon," she said.

"When?"

"After you went back to your room. This morning."

"I locked the study door."

"I've known the code for a year," she said. "Pops liked to
afternoon it with me, sometimes. We'd meet there."

No matter how frightened I felt, I knew it wasn't so much as I
should be feeling.

"Why?" I asked.

"You look funny," she said. "Are you feelin' all right?"

"I was. Avalon, why?"

"It'll work out better this way," she said. "If it works. I think
it will."

"Why?" I shouted. Butch eyed us again, but didn't slow.
"Avalon, tell me you didn't. Please."

"I did," she said. "Look, they're both crazy, and Sonny was
going to come out shining clean-"

"Don't you realize how much trouble'll come down?"

"You couldn't see it like I could because you worked for him
too long. You'd always think he was your buddy no matter how
big a fuck he was. You're blind to it. He was fuckin' psycho,
Shameless. You wouldn't admit it even if you could."

"He wasn't," I said. "Not that much-"

"He was. He'd have turned on us one day. Mark me."

"I don't believe this," I said. "I don't. I really don't."

"You'd better," she said. "Look. He did me shit the whole
time. Just like he did you."

"It was going to change-"

"You admit it," she said. "You really think he'd do what he
said he was goin' to do? You really believed that?"

"He wouldn't have lied to me about this-"

"He wanted your dirty work and that's it. I don't think you'da
been zeroed because of it later on but you can bet it wouldn't
have done you any good."

"What good's this going to do? They'll all be after us now.
His people and the Old Man's. "

"Sonny doesn't have any people on his side. You and me and
Jimmy. That weaseleye Jake. That's it."

"But he could have thrown the Old Man's people off-"

"Nobody would have figured out he was behind it?"

"They couldn't have done anything. If he's dead he can't confirm or deny. So now they'll have to pick somebody. Who's handiest?"

"Men never think proxies are smart enough for this sort of
thing-"

"It's not going to work like you think it will," I said. "They're going to want to know why we're leaving the country, don't you
think?"

"They'll find out Sonny made the arrangements himself,
right?"

"He didn't make arrangements to have himself blasted."

"We'll deny all," she said, laughing. "You don't even realize
the best part of this."

"I don't know how I missed it," I said. "What?"

"With Pops dead," she said, tossing her legs across mine,
pinning me to my seat, "who stands to inherit?"

"Mister Dryden. But thanks to you, he's-"

"Dead. Who stands next?"

I said nothing.

"I know he showed you his new will," she said. "You forgot
to tell me that, by the way. But I've seen it, too. Twenty-five
percent you get, right?" I nodded. "So do I. "

"That means-"

"We control the estate," she laughed. "We own the company."

Sometimes something happens that gives you all of death's
responsibilities with none of its benefits. I covered my face with
my hands.

"It doesn't strike you that we had a perfect motive, then?"

"Sure it does," she said. "But the only person that knew about
it besides you was Sonny, right?"

"And my sister, and the lawyers," I said. "You, obviously.
Obvious enough for them to figure."

She sloughed it off. "Their word, our word--

"Their power-" I said.

"Our money-"

"We're in trouble, Avalon," I said. "It's not going to work."

"Why not?"

"You think we'll ever see a dime, now? If we're not caught, that is? We may as well sit back and watch the lawyers parcel it
out over our heads. They'll keep it in court forty years-"

"What if we get away, though?"

How? I said. "We've got to figure out something fast."

"Shameless."

"We'll be nailed," I said. "They'll take us here or there.
They'll--

"Shamey, listen."

"What?"

"We're they, now," she said. "See?"

There was nothing to be done as we hurtled toward New York.
Through my mind I chased possibilities.

"Maybe they weren't killed," I said.

"You don't think you set it up right?"

I knew I had. "Do you think you might have accidentally disconnected it?"

"No," she said. "It was placed sure when I left it."

"Maybe you set it for midnight instead of noon?"

"Course not. That little light comes on for A.M. I'd have seen
it. "

"What if they left the room?"

"Maybe they did. But if Sonny didn't get it and then it went
off an hour early-"

"He'd think-"

She nodded her head, slowly. "If he's not dead we're in real
trouble. "

"He probably is, though," I muttered, reassuring myself with
thoughts of his demise, hoping now for what I had despised the
thought of, moments before. Perspective, you might call it; another one of those things you found yourself getting used to after
so long.

"I think you're worrying too much for nothing."

"I doubt it," I said. "I just wish you'd said something first-"

"So you could try to talk me out of it?" she said. "If you're going to do something, do it right. That's what I've always
thought."

"What if you do it wrong?"

"Then do something else," she said. "Quick."

We said little, then; sat quietly, holding each other. There seemed
no way that we could leave the country, under the circumstances;
even if we weren't stopped beforehand and somehow made it
across the water, we would have to spend our remaining days in
Russia, unable to return-in so much danger there as we would
be here.

As we drove down the Henry Hudson, passing under the bridge,
a darker realization came to mind.

"Avalon," I whispered.

"What?"

"One of two things has happened."

"What are you talking about?"

"Either the blast went off," I said, "or it
didn't. "

She stared at me, uncomprehending. "Makes sense," she said.

"If it did," I said, "then they must be lowlying. They haven't
shortwaved Butch."

"Maybe the thing's not working?"

it is," I said. "Butch was going to be called back up there
after he dropped us off."

"So what do you think's going on?"

"It must have gone off," I said. "You wouldn't have disconnected it, the way I set it up. "

"I know," she said. "So?"

"So they must not have been in there. Or maybe just the Old
Man was in there."

"Or Sonny."

"If Mister Dryden went, they'd have called Butch. In which
case-"

"Things are either going as they should," she said, "or no
one termed and we're not suspected."

"Sure," I said. "Mister Dryden would either tell the contact to send us back once we got there, or we'd go on to the airport
as planned-"

"Unless that's what they want us to think," she said.

I sighed. "We might be walking into it, if they suspect. Butch
wouldn't have to know. "

"We're almost there," she said, "What're we going to do?"

"Let's earplay this," I said. "Viz what goes."

We were to meet our contact at Broadway and Thirty-fourth,
near Macy's. Mister Dryden had not said who the contact would
be, or what he or she would look like; only that we would be
recognized. Under the circumstances that was no longer a comforting thought. As the car entered the Herald Square Secondary
Zone I leaned over to Avalon and whispered, "It's not worth
testing. Let's not stick. We'll head down. They won't come looking in my neighborhood."

"Let's get Butch to take us there."

"That's not what he's expecting," I said. "He'd have to let
them know where he dropped us. It'll raise suspicion in his mind."

"How dangerous is your neighborhood?"

"Safer than this."

As Butch pulled the car alongside the double-parked trucks, a
cyclist, zazzing past, bumped into our rear fender and nearly
pitched head-over-bars into the street. Avalon and I jumped, fearing we'd been attacked. The cyclist rolled his bike past us-not
easily, as its frame had been bent in the collision-and, when he
reached the front of our car, lifted the bike above his head and
smashed it down against our windshield. Seeing that he did our
car little damage, while further destroying his own toy, he began
screaming at us and stuck his head through the front passenger
window. He continued screaming as Butch raised the window,
entrapping his head between the unbreakable glass and the door
frame.

"Need any help?" I asked. Butch demurred. "We'll get out
here, then."

I opened the door; Avalon and I exited, sliding on whatever
slipperiness lay in the gutter. Butch pulled out a long lead pipe
from beneath the front seat and began beating the cyclist over the
head. The windows on the passenger side darkened as he brought
it down again and again.

"Let's get the fuck out of here quick, Shameless," said Avalon, wrapping her arm around me. "I hate crowds."

Thirty-fourth Street was the busiest in the city, especially on
a Saturday afternoon. In most of Manhattan it was difficult to
drive; along 34th it was nearly impossible to walk, so teeming
were the crowds. From north side facade to south side facade,
the only clear spot in the street was the I A lane, lined along its
length with two-foot-high spikes, each concrete-set three inches
apart; even that lane was busier here, for Army vehicles heading
to the Javits Center passed down it without cease. Army studies
demonstrated that regular lane traffic here, at any hour on any
day, moved along at less than one foot per minute.

"Let's walk east," I said, holding her close to prevent her
being swept away by the crowd. "Then down through Murray
Hill. It'll be the easiest, I think."

To gain most productive use of space, most stores along 34th
displayed their wares alfresco, continuing their aisles-shielded
from the weather by awnings once bright-hued, now sootsmeared-several feet out onto the sidewalk, leaving off only
where the peddlers set, crowding the curbs four deep. Additional
Army studies showed that Thirty-fourth Street was the only place
in Manhattan where, on average, street traffic outpaced sidewalk
traffic. Slowly, carefully, we began elbowing and kneeing our
way through those prepped to barter or haggle or rob. This sort
of mob troubled me most of all; in moving, one was sure to somehow offend, and such insults were not passed over here.

"O'Malley," I heard someone shout.

"You hear that?" Avalon said, pushing by a woman dragging
along a baby carriage; it was loaded with wilted produce.

"Keep walking," I said.

"I'm trying," she said.