To Sleep Gently (24 page)

When the safe opened Dempster announced that he was leaving Doug, Justin, and Andy in capable hands. He left the room and joined Jimmy out in the lobby.

"I thought some kid was supposed to be here with him," Jimmy whispered.

"He's up helping a guest with his TV. Nothing we can do about it but keep a sharp lookout for him."

"Everything under control in there?"

"So far so good. Cameras are off. Safe's open. I dunno what's in it but it's a start."

"I can't help it," Jimmy said. "I'm a little freaked. I hope we get this over and done with soon."

"Just keep your wits about you," Dempster told him. "Everything will be fine."

Jimmy started to say something else. Something that seemed like it might have been important. Then he bit his tongue. Before Dempster could ask what was getting him Jimmy motioned over to the side. To the stairway. The stairway up to the computers.

There was a shadow. Dempster motioned for Jimmy to get behind the front desk then moved over to the side of the stairway.

Came the sound of descending footsteps. A woman cleared her throat. Did Gardner know she was up there? Maybe she'd been there for hours. It didn't matter now because a woman was coming down the stairs.

She was middle-aged. She had blue pants and a blue shirt and her hair was brown and she was studying a small stack of papers in her hands. She looked up to tell the people behind the front desk goodnight and saw Jimmy pointing a gun at her. No one needed to tell her to freeze.

"Get behind the desk," Dempster said, surprising her because she hadn't yet known there was more than one. She joined Jimmy, Dempster following. "Lie down on your face and keep your head down. Don't try to see what's going on."

Overcome with shock, overwhelmed by a situation she didn't really comprehend, she didn't react, just did as she was told.

"What's your name?"

"Marie."

"Is there anyone else up there, Marie? Anyone else up there at the computers?"

"Yes," Marie said. "There are a couple of people."

"Are you sure? I don't believe you."

"There is. One of them is a cop."

"You're very funny, Marie," Jimmy told her.

"What's funny about it?"

"It's funny because you don't quite understand the situation you're dealing with."

"I know that I'm lying face down behind the front desk of a hotel and I have two guns pointed at my back."

"But you also want to take a chance and see if we'll run off if we think there are others up there," Dempster told her. "We're already outnumbered and haven't had a problem yet. No one's been hurt so far but that could change. It could change very quickly, Marie." He paused here to let the information settle in her mind. "Now, is there anyone else up there?"

She sighed. It was a frightened sigh. "No."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm just afraid."

"Don't be afraid, Marie. This will all be over soon and you can go back to your room. Just lie there and keep still. Can you do that, Marie?"

"Yes, I—I think so."

"Good." Dempster rose and moved swiftly over to the back room and looked in. Other than some papers, the safe was now empty. Evan had his gun on Gardner, who was tying up Justin and Andy's feet with their belts. Their hands were cuffed behind them. Justin was shaking a little less now. Clark had begun work on the safe deposit boxes.

"How's it going in here?"

"Just peachy," Evan said.

He heard Jimmy and Marie talking behind him. He turned back and looked at them. Then from the back room he heard Evan tell Gardner to stand there and not move. His attention flickered briefly, but he kept it on Jimmy and Marie.

"So what is that small stack of papers you got tucked under you?" Jimmy asked. From the tone of his voice he sounded genuinely interested.

"My son," Marie told him. "He wrote a short story."

"Where's your son?"

"Back home. In Boston."

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen."

"And he wrote a short story?"

"Yes."

"You must be proud of him."

"He wants to be a writer," Marie said. Her tone had changed. Maybe thinking about her son made her realize just how serious her situation was.

"Is it any good?" Jimmy asked.

"I haven't read it yet. I just printed it up. He e-mailed it to me."

"That's cool your son wants to be a writer. You think he'll make it?"

"If he keeps at it."

"Even given our current situation, Marie, I can tell you're proud of him."

"I'm proud." A sniffle. "Very proud."

Dempster let an internal smile stretch across him. He'd never been sure about any of these guys, especially Jimmy. Now he saw what Jimmy was good at.

Jimmy looked up at him. "It would be okay to let her read her son's story, wouldn't it?"

"I don't want to read it right now," Marie said.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to read it when I'm stuck on the floor with a gun pointed at me and I don't know what's going to happen from one moment to the next."

"Nothing's gonna happen to you, Marie. I promise you."

"I'm really scared."

"I know," Jimmy told her. "I know you're scared. But you know what? I'll let you in on a secret. I'm scared too."

Marie was crying now. "You are?"

"Yes. I'm very scared. I don't like doing this. I don't like having to stand here holding a gun."

"So why are you doing it?"

"Because there's no other way for me. Nothing else will work for me. I worked at a Wal-Mart once and couldn't even handle that. This is the only thing that'll work." He let a considerate pause pass by, then said, "If you want, Marie, go on and prop up onto your elbows and read your son's story. I'm not gonna hurt you. It might make you feel better."

A silence within a silence ensued. Then Marie, whimpering now, said, "Maybe I'll just read the first sentence."

"Yeah, you go ahead, Marie." He looked at Dempster. "It's all right, isn't it?"

"Sure," Dempster said as he felt something tug in his chest. "Yeah, it's all right, I guess." He remembered what Sandra had said as she verbally played out her fantasy for the two of them. How she'd always wanted to try her hand at writing a novel.

He watched Marie, tears in her eyes, stumble up to her elbows and slide the papers out from under her.

"You just read, Marie," Jimmy told her. "Just read and pretend we're not even here."

"Your gun is still going to be on me," she said.

"Don't think about it. Just read. Read your son's story."

Marie cried a moment longer. Then she adjusted the pages in front of her, sniffled, wiped her nose, and looked at them. Dempster didn't know if she was reading or not. He didn't really care, so long as she stayed calm and kept out of the way.

"How's it coming?" he called into the back.

Clark's voice was rich with triumph. "Man, this is the jackpot times two!"

"Doug, Justin, Andy, you guys doing all right?"

When none of them spoke, Evan said, "Answer him."

They all said they were fine. Justin's voice was weepingly distinct.

"I feel really important," Clark said. "Like these boxes are rubbing off on me, making
me
valuable."

"Just keep at it," Dempster told him. He walked out from behind the desk and looked around the lobby. Still no sign of the kid. And no sign of Harold. No sign of anyone. He went to the desk and, over it, told Jimmy, "I'll stay on this side."

"No worries," Jimmy said standing near Marie, his gun slack at his side.

Dempster walked across the lobby, glancing out the tiny windows set in the front doors. He tugged once at the brim of his baseball cap then looked the other way, deep into the hotel, into the lounge where just last night Sandra had said, "I'm safe with you, aren't I?" and he had told her she was. It was now dark and empty.

"This bag's getting heavy," Clark called out.

Dempster walked over to the front desk and tried to look into the room but couldn't see anything. No bell sounded so he didn't hear the slide of the door, but he heard the two footsteps and then the sudden stop. He snapped his attention to the sound and saw the kid staring at him. He lifted his gun and told the kid not to move. The kid's arms jittered and his knees knocked. Then, as the light from the elevator began to narrow, to Dempster's surprise, the kid seized his opportunity and jumped in just as the door closed.

"Shit."

"What was that?" Jimmy asked.

"It was the kid."

"Shit. He get away?"

"What do you think? Sounds like we've got a haul. Let's get the hell out of here."

"Yeah," Jimmy said. Then to Marie, "Don't go anywhere." He moved to the back room. "All right, guys, it's time. Let's go."

"What's going on?"

"The kid. He saw us and got away."

"Just now?"

"Yeah."

"We still got about five minutes then."

"Don't be stupid," Dempster called over the desk. "Let's go—now."

Evan's voice told him, "You go if you want. We'll catch up."

"Goddammit, we're not meeting somewhere for lunch. This is—" From above a hard blow struck him in the back and sent him to the floor. Dempster spun around and instinctively fired once.

Harold fell backwards against the stairway, a tiny stream of blood running from his mouth.

She hadn't seen it but she'd heard it, and now all Marie could do was scream. Jimmy raced to the desk and looked over it at the dead man on the stairs.

"Holy shit."

"What's going on?" Clark shouted.

"Security guard's dead," Jimmy told him, his voice filling with panic.

Marie began screaming louder.

"Shut that bitch up," Evan yelled.

Jimmy went to her and tried to calm her down.

Dempster stared at Harold, no longer moving but his eyes staring back at him. The one person he would have to kill, and it would be the one guard that was never armed.

"I didn't think anyone was going to be killed." It was Gardner's voice, and it was hysterical. "No one was supposed to die!"

"Shut up," Evan told him.

Clark was now standing in the doorway, still looking into the room, a heavy-looking laundry bag in his hands. "Let's go!" he shouted at Evan.

"Get away from there, Doug," Evan's voice warned.

"No one was supposed to die!"

A moment later there were gunshots. Two of them. Clark turned away in disgust.

"What happened?" Dempster demanded.

Jimmy took the bag from Clark, who was now crying. He pulled himself together as best he could, then said, "He shot him. He triggered the silent alarm under the monitors, so he shot him."

"Jesus Christ."

"The cops have already been called," Jimmy said. "Why did it matter? Let's just get the hell out of here." He placed the bag on the desk.

Dempster took it.

"I need a cigarette," Clark said.

Marie's screams reduced to loud sobs.

Jimmy crouched down and whispered something to her. Possibly words of encouragement, possibly something else.

Clark remained in the doorway, his back against the jamb, staring out at the lobby, trying not to look into the room but not leaving either. He looked sick. His face was pale.

"All right, let's get out of here," Dempster said.

Jimmy helped Marie to her feet and out from behind the desk. Clark slumped out of the doorway. When he was halfway across the desk, the two security guards screamed.

Everyone froze. A second later there was a loud
brekebrekebreke
sound and Clark instinctively raced back to the door. Now one guard was screaming and one was not. The
brekebreke
sounded again, and Dempster watched Clark yell something that couldn't be heard over it as he lifted his gun and aimed it into the room. The sound didn't stop. Instead it accepted the sound of one pistol shot from Clark and punched holes in the wall and around the doorjamb; then Clark was standing in an epileptic fit that evolved into a spastic dance. Finally, he went down, the whole front of his body red and ruined.

"Holy mother-fuck!" Jimmy shouted.

Marie began screaming again.

At the same time, through the tiny windows in the front doors, Dempster caught sight of red and blue flashing lights. He stepped past Harold's body and up the stairs.

*****

"I'm sorry, Marie. I didn't think it would come to this."

"It doesn't have to."

"I'm sorry. I don't have any choice now."

"Yes you do, you have a choice."

"No I don't."

As more and more lights flashed and men started up the front steps, Jimmy wrapped his arm around Marie's throat and held his gun to her. As he dragged her quickly through the lobby towards the darkened area of the lounge, he saw Evan run across the lobby, machine gun in one hand, pistol in the other, and disappear into the darkness of the Old House restaurant. It looked as though Evan hadn't seen them. If he had, they probably would have been gunned down.

Now the cops were inside. And they could see him. And they had their guns drawn.

"Let her go!" they were shouting. "Release your hostage and put down your weapon!"

Jimmy kept going, dragging her by the throat. He could hear her tiny gasps for breath, almost as though they were directly in his ear. She struggled and he told her to keep calm, took a quick check to see where he was, and saw that he had almost entered the lounge.

They'll be coming from behind me too, he thought. Any moment they're gonna be coming up the concourse.

He backed into something. It was something solid but not a wall. He moved to his right and got behind it as the entire world spun around him and his gun hand shook so much that he could hardly hold it. Through the glass case with the giant pot he watched the police advance. He crouched lower behind the tiled stone stand, bringing Marie down with him, and fired once into the lobby. Watching the police drop down and scatter was surreal. He fired again then looked back into the lounge and saw, through shadows, the fancy upscale dining area, the Eldorado Court. If he could cut through there he could get to the kitchen. There had to be an exit out that way.