Cage of Night (10 page)

PART TWO

CHAPTER ONE

"I'm sure he didn't hear you."

"I said it real loud."

"Spence, put yourself in his position," Chief Stewart said.

Paul Stewart had been the police chief in this town ever since I was in grade school. He was generally considered to be fair, open-minded, and not at all impressed with his badge, the way some cops get.

But he was protective of his cops to the point of obstinacy.

He sat on the edge of his desk and looked down on me in my chair.

"It's dark," he went on. "You've just seen a car crash up through a fence. You approach it with your gun drawn. And then in the front seat, you see somebody who has just murdered somebody else in cold blood. You don't think you'd be a little scared?"

"Sure, I'd be scared but—"

"You don't think you might be totally focused on the killer in the car?"

"Sure, I'd be focused on the guy in the car but—"

"And if somebody said something to you, don't you think there's a possibility that you might not hear them?"

"Sure, there's a possibility but—"

"And that's what happened last night, Spence. He's a young cop and he wanted to be sure he handled the situation the proper way—and he was also scared. It was real easy for him to imagine that Myles had a gun in his hand and was bringing it up to shoot him."

I didn't say anything for a time, just sat in his sunny office with the four filing cabinets and the big desk with framed photos of his grandkids all over it and a wall filled with awards and plaques and a few pictures of the Chief with minor celebrities. The one of him shaking hands with Hulk Hogan struck me as pretty funny.

"That's what happened, Spence."

"He thought that Myles had a gun?"

"Right."

"And when he approached the car, he thought he saw Myles bringing the gun up?"

"Yes."

"And so he shot him?"

"Right."

"Twice?"

"As any good cop would."

"Good cops shoot unarmed citizens?"

He looked at me a long hard time. He was in his crisp dark uniform as usual and his hair was white and his face was old-man fleshy. But the blue eyes were young and smart. And now they were just a little bit mean. He was pure cop.

"You trying to piss me off on this thing, Spence?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Because I like you and I want to keep on liking you."

I stared out the window. Thanksgiving was three days away and the sky was June blue.

"I just wanted to tell you what I was thinking, Chief," I said.

"I appreciate that, Spence."

"I really did yell over to him. You know, that Myles didn't have his gun anymore."

"I believe you, Spence. I also believe that Garrett didn't hear you."

"I guess that kind of wraps things up, doesn't it?"

"Far as I'm concerned, it does." Then: "Spence?"

"Yes?"

"This is a small town. Rumors get started pretty fast."

"I won't say anything to anybody."

"I'd appreciate that."

He stood up from his desk and put a beefy hand out, one that mine disappeared inside of.

After we shook, he walked me to the door and clapped me on the back.

"You miss the Army?"

"Not really."

He smiled. "I was the same way. Couldn't wait to get out of it. That was forty years ago, back when they still had a draft."

He opened the door for me.

"Spence?"

"Yes."

"I know you're not satisfied with our little talk this morning but I'm not trying to hide anything at all. Far as I'm concerned, Garrett was discharging his duties by the book. I would've done the same thing myself in those circumstances. And so would you."

"Maybe I would have."

"And anyway—" He hesitated a moment, as if not sure he wanted to say what he wanted to say. "Save a lot of heartache. In the community, I mean. Putting all of Nancy Tumbler's people through a trial—Hell, it wouldn't have been very easy for Myles' folks, either."

"No, it wouldn't have been."

"And we know he did it."

"Yes, we do."

"There were witnesses."

"Yes, there were."

"So in the scheme of things—"

I guess I couldn't disagree with that part of it. Myles really had killed a woman in cold blood. And a trial would just make the whole town suffer even more.

But there was one thing Chief Stewart wouldn't acknowledge—that his officer had heard me tell him that Myles was unarmed, but had proceeded to execute him anyway.

"You have yourself a good day, Spence."

"You, too, Chief."

This was Monday morning right after breakfast.

When I finished at the police station, I walked over to the department store and went to work.

By noon, just about everybody who worked in the store had come up to me and asked me if I'd been scared after Myles carjacked me. I didn't blame them. They worked hard at drab, empty jobs for very little money and no security. They needed some kind of excitement and management wouldn't let them watch TV during the day so I was the next best thing.

On my lunch hour, I finally worked up the nerve to call Mrs. Brasher.

"Well, Cindy's in school," she said, sounding surprised that I'd choose now to call.

"It was you I wanted to talk to, Mrs. Brasher."

"Me?" She sounded even more surprised.

"I want to bring Cindy a present—something that'll help take her mind off things—and I was just wondering if you could mayhe give me an idea of what she'd like."

Long pause. "I don't think Cindy wants to see you anymore, Spence. So I'm going to ask you not to try and contact her in any way."

The queasiness was back in my stomach. "Why wouldn't she want to see me anymore?"

Another pause. Then a sigh. "She thinks that she helped drive David to—you know, Saturday night—that if she hadn't started seeing you, maybe he wouldn't have gone insane."

Right, I thought. He would have just kept on beating her.

But then I thought of Myles' face in my car a few minutes before he died—the grief, the terror.

"She's going to start seeing Dr. Granger again. She's—not doing very well at the moment." Granger was the town's one and only shrink. "She went to school but I wouldn't be surprised if she came home early."

"I want to help her, Mrs. Brasher."

"Then stay away from her, Spence. I don't mean to be harsh—but that would be best for everybody. And now I have to go."

The rest of the day I kept tearing up and breaking into fits of trembling. I wanted to vomit but when I went back to the john, all I did was peer down into the toilet bowl.

—I'm going to ask you not to try and contact her in any way.

—Stay away from her, Spence. I really did want to puke.

At first, I didn't recognize him.

This was right near closing time. It had been a slow business day. I'd spent most of my time in the back room rearranging some old stock and marking it down for an upcoming sale. Some of the shoes make you wonder what consumer the manufacturer had in mind. One pair had platform heels, ankle straps and a flowery bow that went across the instep. Apparently, Carmen Miranda was coming back in vogue.

"Are you Spence?"

As I said, I didn't recognize him at first.

He was a small, quiet-looking man with a receding hairline, sad brown eyes, and a forlorn little mouth.

"Yes, I am," I said.

He put out a small hand. "I'm Don Myles, David's father."

"Oh."

I shook his hand. I had no idea what to say. He obviously didn't either. I felt kind of sorry for both of us.

Then the irony of it struck me. It happened this way sometimes, little gray guy like this siring a strapping handsome superstar like David. Recessive genes, maybe.

"I'd like to ask you a favor but I don't want you to feel obligated about it in any way."

"All right," I said.

"The missus was wondering if you might possibly stop over at our place after the funeral."

"Your place?"

He nodded. "She'd like to talk to you about how David was."

I see.

"The last hour or so."

"Right."

"If he said anything particular."

—Tell my Mom and Dad how much I love them, Spence. Tell them that I sure wish I would have listened to them.

That's what Mr. Myles hoped that David had said.

The poor shambling bastard, standing there so sad, utterly destroyed, the rest of his life never to be the same again.

"I'd be happy to, Mr. Myles."

"Really. You wouldn't mind?"

"No; no problem."

I was going to make something up. I'd have to think about it. If I made it too corny, they'd know I was making it up. I'd have to think of something that they'd keep with them the rest of their lives.

"How about if I call you?"

He stared at me and then averted his eyes a moment. "I know what he did to you. Ramming your car that night."

"Don't think about that, Mr. Myles. I wasn't hurt bad."

"It was her. He changed after he met her. I'm not saying that he wasn't wild before but—but after he started hanging around with that Cindy Brasher—" He shook his head.

"The missus really would appreciate you stopping by, Spence."

"My pleasure, Mr. Myles."

He nodded, and went quietly away.

CHAPTER TWO

I smelled snow on the wind as I came out of the store that night. Winter always comes abruptly in these parts. Even though the day had been sunny and warm, tomorrow could be white and bitter cold.

Dusk was coming earlier, too. By 5:45, darkness covered everything. The parking lot lights looked dim and ineffective against the vast gloom.

I got in my car and had my first winter encounter with the engine. Damned thing didn't want to start.

I watched as all the other cars pulled out of the lot, owners waving goodbye. A few were nice enough to shout that they had jumper cables but I waved them on. I figured I could do this myself.

Then I was alone and when I looked up at the light, I saw the first few whipping traces of snow.

I tried the engine again and this time it caught but just as it did, I saw a car pull next to mine, and a familiar face looked over at me.

He was out of his car and into mine in moments.

"You need a better car."

"Thanks for the tip," I said.

"I've got a lot of good advice for you, Spence."

"Yeah, I'll bet you do."

"Especially about Saturday night."

I didn't say anything for a time, just sat there and looked out at the whipping snow. "The Chief talked to you, huh?"

"As far as I knew, he had a gun, Spence. That was why I shot him."

"Right."

"Don't fuck with me, Spence. I'm not that shitty little punk you used hang out with. I'm a lot different these days."

I turned and looked at him. "Yeah, I noticed that Saturday when you killed Myles."

"He killed Nancy Tumbler."

"That didn't give you the right to execute him."

Now it was his turn to pause. He let out a long, ragged sigh. "I want you to drop this, this whole thing, you understand?"

"You're safe, Garrett. The Chief believes that you didn't hear me say he was unarmed."

"I
didn't
hear you say it."

"Right."

"I don't give a shit if you believe me."

"I noticed that."

"It's over and done with. There's going to be an inquest and an investigation, and then the Chief said it'll be over."

"Sounds like it's going to be a great investigation."

He opened the door.

The cold air felt good. Clean.

"He used to beat her up."

"Yeah, he did."

"And as I remember, he also beat the hell out of you."

I didn't say anything.

"So what's the big deal? If I didn't kill him, he would have just rotted in prison the rest of his life anyway."

"You're rationalizing, Garrett. There wasn't any reason to shoot him and you know it."

Another sigh. "I don't want you talking to the Chief anymore, you hear me?"

"I hear you."

He reached over and put a hand on my shoulder. It was a surprisingly gentle hand. "You're a nice guy, Spence. You really are. I've got a lot of good memories about you, Conan and all that bullshit. So I'm asking you, don't push it anymore, all right? I did what I had to do Saturday night, and it's that simple. If you want to believe that I murdered him, that's up to you. But I'm trying to be a good cop for this town and I don't want that kind of rumor undermining me. So I'm asking you to keep your opinions to yourself." He paused. "I really didn't hear you say he was unarmed, Spence. I really didn't."

I almost liked him right then. He was almost the geeky kid I'd hung out in bookstores with. Conan and all that bullshit, as he'd just said.

And I almost believed him, too. Maybe there'd been wind and he hadn't heard. Or maybe it was as simple as the Chief had said. Maybe when you were approaching a car with a dangerous man inside, your mind was totally fixed on that moment, and you just tuned out everything else.

I guess I wanted to believe that right then, guess I wanted to believe that the world was a safe and sane and trustworthy place after all, and that a cop wouldn't shoot somebody without justification, and then lie on top of it.

Not in this nice old world of ours, he wouldn't.

He took his hand away. "I still think we should go have a pizza sometime and then go have a few brews somewhere."

But then he said, "He didn't deserve her, Spence. She's a very special girl."

And then I knew he was lying.

And knew why he'd killed Myles.

Because of Cindy.

"You going after her now, Garrett?"

The smile was almost a smirk. "You're a little behind the times, Spence. I've
already
been seeing her."

"What the hell you talking about?"

He got out of the car and started to shut the door. Just before he did, he said, "She asked me to take her to the Christmas dance, Spence."

The smirk was still there.

He closed the door quietly, and walked away.

I let him pull out before I tried the motor again. It was twenty minutes before the engine turned over.