Double eagle, p.10
Double Eagle, page 10
An orderly and doable list of tasks for the day.
Until he pushed in through the door of the café. And then, it was too late.
“There he is,” said Archie. “I told you he’d show up.”
Eliopoulos looked at his watch. “An hour ago, you said he’d show up.”
“And he showed up.”
Thumps pushed past the two men to his favourite stool. Al set a cup on the counter and filled it.
“Thank god,” she said. “If I had to listen to those two much longer, I would sell the place and move to Orlando.”
“Where’s Wutty and the gang?”
“Went to Helena. I didn’t think I’d ever miss them.”
“Breakfast,” said Thumps. “The usual.”
“One Archie is more than I can handle,” said Al. “Do you know anything about the Stoics and the Skeptics?”
“Breakfast?”
“Or why I should care about perceptual relativism?”
Thumps put his forearms and head on the counter.
Al tapped him with the pot. “Don’t be going to sleep on me.”
“Not my problem.”
Al clumped her way back to the grill. “It is if you want breakfast.”
Thumps didn’t have to look up. He could hear Archie on the move.
“Wake up.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at Buffalo Mountain?”
“That’s later,” said Archie. “Right now, we need your help.”
Thumps buried his head deeper in his arms, kept his eyes closed, tried to pretend he was alone in the world.
Archie took the stool on one side of Thumps. Eliopoulos took the other.
“I think he’s ignoring you,” said Nico. “Not that I blame him.”
“He’s just playing hard to get,” said Archie. “He’s done this before.”
Thumps pushed himself to an upright position. “How about I meet you at the resort in a couple of hours. We can talk then.”
“We’re here now,” said Archie.
“He wants to eat his breakfast in peace,” said Nico. “We can wait.”
“If we let him out of our sight,” said Archie, “he might run off with his cameras, and we won’t see him for a week.”
“He’ll come.” Nico stood, tucked in his shirt. “You can see that he’s an honourable man.”
Archie followed Eliopoulos to the door. “Tell Al I’ll bring her a copy of The Republic.”
Al didn’t reappear right away.
“Are they gone?”
“They are.”
“I’m going to have nightmares about this for a while.”
“Archie said he’d bring you a copy of Plato’s Republic.”
Al filled Thumps’s cup. “How worried should I be?”
“Breakfast?”
“Don’t you want to know why Wutty went to Helena?”
“He’s moving?”
“No such luck,” said Al. “He and Jimmy and Russell went to the big city to pick up Wutty’s newest enthusiasm.”
Thumps had lost track of Wutty’s enthusiasms.
“You know how some things run on land and some things run on water?”
“Cars and boats?”
“Wutty’s got one that does both.”
“An amphibian?”
“Wutty calls it his Little Otter,” said Al. “Personally, I don’t see it. Cars are great on the road. Boats are great on the water. Why buy something that does both things poorly?”
“Variety?” said Thumps. “Supposed to be the spice of life.”
“If you ask me,” said Al, “it’s salt.”
Thumps looked at the grill. “Is there any chance I’m going to get breakfast?”
“That’s why you came in.”
“Yes. It was.”
“And we got sidetracked by Archie and his buddy. And by Wutty and Little Otter.”
“We did.”
“So, now I’ll make you breakfast,” said Al. “And you can try to figure out why Wutty is getting a fish with wheels.”
“I don’t care why Wutty is getting a fish with wheels.”
“Have you ever read this Republic?”
“Breakfast?”
“Don’t tell me who did it.”
“Nobody did it.”
“It’s not a mystery?”
“Only if you try to read it in the original Greek.”
THE EGGS WERE perfect. The sausages hot and juicy. Even the toast was warm, the butter melted into the bread. The first few bites wiped out the memory of the buffet at Buffalo Mountain.
“So, Wutty figures the amphibian will add value to his tour business,” said Al. “Figures to set up at Red Tail Lake. Drive people around the lake and then boat them across, all in the same rig.”
“Makes sense.”
“That’s what worries me,” said Al. “Lately, a lot of Wutty’s ideas have been making sense.”
“Knock on wood.”
“If you discount the tipi.”
“Wutty has a tipi?”
“Bought if off Eugene Big Bull,” said Al. “Was going to set it on the shield where the river cuts a big curve around that grove of cottonwoods.”
“Okay.”
“Authentic Indigenous experience. Three nights in the wild. Cook your food over an open fire. A little drumming. Yada, yada, yada.”
“Probably get some takers.”
“Wutty figured it was going to be a real money-maker.” Al began smiling. “Might have worked out if any of the lads knew how to set up a tipi.”
“Ah.”
“Stas went out there last week.” Al filled Thumps’s cup. “Said the poles are in one pile, canvas in another.”
“Eugene didn’t show them how to do it?”
“Eugene’s over in Browning, visiting relatives.”
“What about Moses or Cooley.”
“I’m guessing he’s too embarrassed to ask them.”
“When’s Eugene coming back?”
“Not too soon, I hope.” Al leaned against the counter. “Listening to those three bicker is more entertaining than talk radio. At one point, they considered renting a cherry picker.”
“A little overkill.”
“Could have worked,” said Al. “If any of those chuckleheads knew how to run one.”
“So, they don’t know how to put up a tipi, and they don’t know how to run a cherry picker. They have any other good ideas?”
“Week’s young,” said Al. “Makes you wonder why we bothered to climb out of the trees.”
Thumps chased the remains of the eggs with a piece of toast.
Al set the coffee pot on the counter. “Which brings us to you and Claire and Ivory.”
“Al . . .”
“The adoption thingy looks to be a real mess,” said Al. “Don’t see how they can take Ivory away from Claire. She’s the only mother that little girl has ever known.”
“How do you know . . .”
“Hear you haven’t been a lot of help.”
“I only found out yesterday.”
Al shook her head. “Eat your food. Don’t apologize to me.”
THERE WAS A box of doughnuts on the sheriff’s desk. Duke was nowhere to be seen. Thumps checked the selection. There were two unglazed old-fashioneds. He broke one of them into quarters.
“You know the best way to catch a cop?” Duke walked out of the back. “Leave a dozen assorted unattended.”
“How’s Macy?”
“You ever talk to three doctors at the same time?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“It’s progressive,” said Duke. “That was the only thing the three of them could agree on.”
“That’s it?”
“They talked about the side effects of various medications and procedures,” said Duke. “Made me want to give up Aspirin.”
Thumps went back to the box and grabbed another quarter. There might be, he imagined, a correlation between how much doughnut he ate and the interval between the eatings. For instance, if he ate a whole doughnut all at once, what would be the effect on his blood sugars and how long would it last? As opposed to his eating a quarter of a doughnut, waiting fifteen minutes, and then eating another quarter.
“They know something’s wrong,” said Duke. “They just don’t know what it is or what to do about it.”
Thumps considered asking Beth about his theory on doughnut-eating intervals the next time he saw her, but then she would know that he was eating doughnuts.
“Sort of like being a sheriff,” said Duke. “I know a whole bunch about crime. I just don’t know when it’s going to happen or what I can do to prevent it.”
Or maybe he should pursue the theory on his own, do his own research. Shouldn’t take more than a few years.
Duke helped himself to a chocolate-coated doughnut. “How goes the gold-coin caper?”
“Not much of a caper yet,” said Thumps. “You run that photo I gave you?”
“I did,” said Duke.
“Did it come back as one Boris Lukin?”
Duke took a bite of the doughnut. “If you knew who he was, why did you have me run the photo?”
“Didn’t know at the time.”
“But now you know he’s a big-time coin dealer out of Miami.”
“Yes.”
“And that his father, Arkady Lukin, was connected.”
“As in criminal enterprise.”
“As in.”
Thumps put the doughnut to one side. Wait fifteen minutes. See how he felt.
“All of which tells us . . . ?”
“Got an old pal. Worked homicide in Helena. Retired, moved to Miami. Get away from the cold.”
“Makes sense.”
“Until he found out what summers in Florida were like.” Duke examined the backs of his hands. “He’d move back today, but the housing market collapsed and he’s stuck with a condo that’s worth less than the mortgage.”
“And he knows Lukin.”
“Evidently, every cop in Miami knows Lukin. According to Sid, Boris Lukin is one of those M&M criminals, squeaky clean on the outside, dirty as hell in the middle.” Duke rubbed his eyes. “Went to Harvard. Took over the coin business and everything else when Arkady died. Sid was real impressed that Boris has turned up on our patch. Seems the man never leaves his compound.”
“Compound?”
“It’s like a small country with water views, a celebrity chef, and its own air force.”
“He has a private plane?”
“A fancy Gulfstream,” said Duke. “According to Sid.”
“‘Let me tell you about the very rich,’” said Thumps. “‘They are different from you and me.’”
“That some famous quote?”
“It is.”
“Sid’s going to ask around,” said Duke. “Try to find out why Mr. Boris would leave the comfort of his private paradise to attend a Podunk coin show.”
“Podunk?”
“Sid is a polyglot.”
Thumps crossed his right leg over his left. And then he crossed his left leg over his right. “Benoit was waiting for Lukin when he arrived.”
“So, the FBI knew Boris was coming here.”
“Only explanation is they were watching him in Miami, and when he moved, they moved.”
“Easy enough to do. Lukin’s jet would have had to file a flight plan,” said Duke. “As soon as they see where he’s going, they call the field office in Minneapolis or Denver or Seattle and put an agent in place before Boris lands.”
“Zarina Benoit.”
“The stretch limo is out of Helena,” said Duke. “Seems the two very large gentlemen came with it.”
“Lukin flies out of Miami, lands in Helena, is picked up by Hulk One and Hulk Two, who drive him to Buffalo Mountain and a coin show that’s not worth his time.”
“Sounds about right,” said Duke.
“But we still don’t know why he came or why the FBI is on his tail.”
“Details, details,” said Duke. “Confidence is high, ’cause I have Deputy Dog on the case.”
“You know, calling people names is a form of passive-aggressive behaviour.”
“Also a form of affection.” Duke pushed the box toward Thumps. “Have some more doughnut.”
16
Thumps and Duke sat in the sheriff’s office and listened to the old percolator bubbling away, doing its impressive impersonation of a thermal mud bath.
“You think that Benoit and Cruz know why Lukin has come to town?”
“Nope,” said Thumps. “I think they’re watching and waiting.”
“So, we’re all in the dark.” Duke took his cup to the coffee pot. “Maybe we should pay Mr. Boris a visit.”
“Sure,” said Thumps. “Man’s probably never seen a cop before. Show him your badge, he’ll piss his pants, confess on the spot.”
Duke poured a cup. “You know, when your blood sugars get low, you get grumpy.”
“I’ve had an entire doughnut,” said Thumps. “My blood sugars aren’t low.”
“And you’re going to blame me for that?”
Thumps opened the box and looked in. “I am.”
“I think it’s time you had a hard word with your buddy,” said Duke. “I’d prefer it if we weren’t blindsided by something embarrassing.”
The phone going off in the quiet of the office startled both men. Thumps jerked his hand away from the box. Duke spilled the coffee.
“Jesus!”
The second ring was more insistent.
“Well, don’t just sit there,” said Duke. “Answer the damn thing.”
“You’re the sheriff. It’s your office.”
“You’re the deputy sheriff,” said Duke. “You’re closer, and you don’t have coffee on your shoes.”
Thumps was on the phone for less than a minute.
“Let me guess,” said Duke. “The duct-cleaning people. For the tenth time this week.”
“Remember that embarrassing blindside you mentioned?”
Duke put his cup on top of the file cabinet. “Buffalo Mountain.”
“Nope.” Thumps stood up, put on his jacket. “We’re wanted at the hospital.”
IN THUMPS’S MIND, the only difference between a morgue and a hospital was that in a hospital, some of the people were still alive.
Duke ran all the way with lights and siren.
“Tell me again what he said?”
“Hospital,” said Thumps. “Now.”
Duke pulled into a “No Parking Zone” and got out. “We’re going to have to get you a uniform shirt and a hat, so you look official.”
“No hat,” said Thumps, “no uniform shirt.”
“At least wear the badge, so people won’t think you’re my prisoner.”
Hospitals smelled. Medical smells, cleaning smells, fear and sadness. The lighting didn’t help. Why insist on a cold arctic white when the warmer end of the spectrum was available? And the unnatural quiet with the little bells ringing in the distance.
Ding, ding, ding.
As Thumps walked through the reception area, he resolved to watch his diet and his sugar intake. With hospitals as the alternative, you couldn’t be too careful.
“Where’d he say he’d be?”
“Emergency,” said Thumps.
THE EMERGENCY ROOM was crowded. Thumps had read somewhere that emergency rooms all across North America were at a point of collapse. COVID had devastated doctors and nurses as well as support staff. Partly it was the exhaustion that came with a pandemic, but the larger and more troubling issue was the unwillingness of the large medical corporations to pay health professionals.
Duke went to the front wicket. “Morning, Deloris.”
“Sheriff.”
“Looking for Cisco Cruz.”
“He said you’d be in.”
“You know Thumps?”
“The photographer.”
“Right now, he’s my deputy.”
Deloris smiled a weary smile. “Guess there’s hope for me yet.”
Duke coughed. “You want to be a cop?”
“Figure it’s the same sort of work I do here,” said Deloris, “except I’d have a big, honking gun and a reason to shoot some of the idiots I have to deal with.”
“You know, we try not to shoot people.”
“Work here for a month,” said Deloris, “and then see how you feel about that.”
“Cruz?”
“Down the hall,” said Deloris. “Third room on the left.”
CISCO CRUZ WAS sitting in a chair beside an empty bed.
“They took her for an MRI.”
Duke took off his hat, set it on the foot of the bed. “What happened?”
“Not sure,” said Cruz. “We were supposed to meet, but then she didn’t show. So I went looking. Found her in the condo, on the floor unconscious. Had a bad gash on her head.”
“Someone attacked her?”
Cruz shook his head. “Not sure. It looked as though she fell and hit her head on the coffee table.”
“She just fell?”
“They’re running a tox screen as well,” said Cruz. “Heart rate was elevated.”
“Drugs?”
“Too soon to know.”
“So, what do we know?”
“She has a concussion,” said Cruz. “Has been in and out. Mostly out.”
Thumps leaned up against the wall. “How do we feel about coincidences?”
“We don’t much like them.” Duke turned to Cruz. “Maybe now you’ll tell us what’s going on.”
Cruz folded his hands on his lap. “I need a favour first.”
“This is not a negotiation,” said Duke.
“I’d ask her myself,” said Cruz, “but you two are friends. Harder to say no to friends.”
BY THE TIME Beth Mooney arrived at the hospital, Zarina Benoit was back in the bed. Her head was bandaged. There was an IV in one hand and wires snaking out from under the hospital gown that were hooked up to several monitors.
Thumps had seen better-looking corpses.
Beth leaned against the radiator, considered each man in the manner of a hammer contemplating a nail.
“Ask me what I was doing when you called.”
“It was Cruz’s idea,” said Duke.
“And yet, you made the phone call,” said Beth.
