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Authors: CJ West

Tags: #reeducation, #prison reform, #voyeurism, #crime, #criminal justice, #prison, #burglary

The End of Marking Time (34 page)

BOOK: The End of Marking Time
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Nick didn’t hesitate. He started the car and sped off.

His arms were rigid on the wheel and I could tell he hated being that close to me. I hadn’t done anything to him, but that didn’t matter. I wondered if he was sterile or if Kathleen refused to have more kids. What did any of that matter to me? Nick hated me. I needed something from him and that was the extent of our relationship. I knew I’d miss Jonathan, but I needed someone inside Govbank and Nick was the only person I knew who had a chance of getting it.

A few blocks later we stopped at the edge of a park.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

I handed him the slip of paper with Nathan Farnsworth’s name, what I knew of Marc, and the address to what I suspected was a brothel.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Nathan Farnsworth is bribing court employees by hooking them up with prostitutes. He’s doing it in this house.” I pointed to the address. “I want you to help me figure out how he’s paying the girls and who is coming and going from this place. I’d also like to know who owns that house.”

“I can’t do that. They don’t just let me wander around in people’s financial records without a reason. I could be fired.”

I didn’t feel guilty about pulling Nick into this. He’d been nothing but an ass from the moment we met. Every time I saw him he wanted to come after me. Sharing Jonathan with him would have been a nightmare and it would have shown eventually in how my son treated me. I finally realized that I couldn’t really be a part of Jonathan’s life, but Nick didn’t know that. All he saw was an opportunity to be rid of me.

“Get me what I need and I’ll sign the papers.”

Nick straightened.

I told him I needed to connect Marc to Nathan Farnsworth. It had to be a transaction within the last two days. I also needed to know who owned that house and who, if anyone, officially worked inside.

He told me I could find the owner by going to city hall. That information was public record.

“Are you not hearing me? I’m willing to sign over my son to you. I expect cooperation. I need Farnsworth wrapped up in a neat little package so I can go to the authorities and hand him over.”

I never meant to prosecute Farnsworth, only to turn the information over to Wendell so the two of them could fight it out. If I went to the cops, they’d have me shipped off to the cat baggers before anyone knew I was gone. At least Wendell was someone important. Even Farnsworth couldn’t make him disappear. That’s why he was trying to run Wendell out of business.

Nick stared at the monument in front of us for a few minutes. His eyes shifted back and forth, not seeing the landscaping outside the car, but some task he’d stealthily do at work, some way of getting me what I needed without getting caught.

“All right,” he said. “Meet me here at nine.”

“Bring the papers.”

“What happened to the last ones?”

“What do you think?” I said and stepped onto the curb.

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

 

 

It was a long day after I left Nick at seven-thirty A.M. I desperately needed sleep, but when my head hit the pillow all I could think about was Nick getting caught and implicating me. I rolled over again and again until the pillowcase irritated my skin. Then I got up and read about a family shipwrecked and deserted on a tropical island. They built amazing gadgets and created a life for themselves with nothing but what they salvaged from the ship and fashioned from things found on the island. They inspired me and I felt similarly creative in my pursuit of freedom.

Farnsworth kept coming to mind. He’d caught me with Stephan and paid someone to shoot at me outside the donut shop. When he saw me with the big guy at the Wiffle ball game, he had him killed right in front of me. Stephan had to be dead. But why wasn’t anyone following me? Farnsworth had to know I was up to something. Did Wendell threaten him? Not likely. It was spooky waiting for Farnsworth’s next move. I was glad to be inside for the day even if I was going stir crazy.

I pictured Marc’s bulky image and put the book aside. Women at the bar had scoffed at his round torso and thinning hair. His eagerness for the nachos attested to his love of food, but he made enough at his job to feed himself. What he couldn’t get was women. How perfect for Farnsworth to bribe him with something every man wanted, something Marc couldn’t attain for himself. I knew I was right. All I needed was the proof.

I was exhausted, but I couldn’t help thinking about what Nick would find. It might take him days to collect the evidence I needed. The police captured such things in minutes, but they had authority. Nick would be sneaking around when no one was watching and trying to cover himself with some legitimate reason for investigating Farnsworth. Nick was bold dealing with me, but at work he had to obey his boss and play by the rules. His tiny house was proof of his station at the bank.

I replayed everything I’d seen and heard over again. I was positive this would be one of my last days in reeducation. I saw myself handing the typewritten pages to Wendell and seeing him overjoyed at what I delivered. I would save his company and he would release me immediately. I tried to dampen my hope, but I couldn’t. I knew I was at the end and I couldn’t help feeling excited.

I tried to read. I compared lunch menus from local takeout places, anything to keep my mind off Nick and what he was doing. Finally after a whole day of waiting, I got in a cab to meet Nick and find out what happened at Govbank. When I got to the park, Nick’s car was waiting right where we had parked that morning. I kicked myself for not coming sooner. When I finally opened the door and sat down beside him, I thought I saw a tight smile on his lips.

“How’d you do?” I asked.

“You’re going to be happy.” Nick shoved a few white pages into my hands. They were the custody papers.

“I can’t sign these until I have what I need.”

He had a thick folder on his lap and I knew they were the records on Farnsworth. Neither of us wanted to give the other anything and come away empty.

“I’m not here to screw you, Nick. If you’ve got what I need, I’ll sign these. Jonathan is yours. Just let me see what you’ve got.”

Nick started the engine. “You take off and I’ll run your ass over. I risked my butt for this. I’m not giving it to you for nothing.”

I promised him I was good to my word. We could have gone back and forth, but he decided he could trust me and pulled out a single printed page.

“The house. It’s Farnsworth’s. Belongs to his company.”

I checked the address. The report had Town of Brookline printed across the top. Nick could have made it up, but I had come to him, not the other way around. Farnsworth Reeducation was listed as the owner.

Nick pulled out another four pages.

“These women are listed as employees of Farnsworth Reeducation. They earn double what most other employees make and there’s something else interesting. When I researched their purchases, they were all made around that house. They go to lunch out there. Have their nails done. Those women live there. According to their financials, they don’t go far. All his other employees spend time near his facilities. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner all have lots of hits.”

“So the prostitutes are on the payroll?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“He doesn’t call them that. That’s the thing these days. You can’t hide transactions completely. People like Farnsworth have to code transactions so they make sense. If you hadn’t stumbled onto them, they never would have stood out on any report. They look like any other employee.”

I took the whole folder and shuffled the custody papers to the top. My stomach felt empty, like I was defying some law of physics by not folding in half. The single line with my name below it mocked me as I signed and wrote the date. My claim to Jonathan was gone, but my life was about to restart.

Nick gunned the engine as soon as my door closed. Kathleen would hear the good news in minutes.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

 

 

The car circled the park and disappeared toward Nick and Kathleen’s house just a few blocks away. As I settled into the dark behind the monument to consider what to do next, Nick was almost home. He’d probably rush through the front door to show Kathleen that I’d signed. I wished I was there to see how happy she was. We’d had a great time together however short it was. If this made her happy, it was the right thing to do. I hadn’t cared for Nick before that day, but he had opened the door for me to walk back into society. I was glad for what he’d done even if we’d never be friends.

In my hands I had proof Farnsworth was paying prostitutes. I’d seen them and I knew what they were doing, but if I brought this to Wendell and Farnsworth found out, the next time I saw those women they’d be in heels, suits, and they’d be carrying briefcases full of relearner files. The eleven men at the complex could be sent off to the cat baggers, but I had filmed them on Farnsworth’s ball field. Their trial left a record even Farnsworth couldn’t erase. That part of the scheme would be easy to expose. I needed proof the women were hookers. If I could show them with Marc, that would be the definitive end for Nathan Farnsworth.

Crossing the grass to the sidewalk, I looked for a cab but couldn’t find one. Most of the park was dark. Anyone walking here was probably close to home. Not a good place to hail a cab, not this time of night. I started back toward the center of town, where there might be a cab cruising for a fare. I was thinking about the wall at the Brookline house and how I’d dropped Treasure Island when a thought came to me.

Mandla told me that the test was outside the black box, not inside. What if everything I was doing was a test? What if Nick was supposed to give me this stuff? Was it too easy?

I abandoned my search for a cab and turned down a side street. Four blocks later I was crouched between the base of a tree and the front tire of a Volkswagen. It was late, so the lights downstairs at Nick and Kathleen’s house were out except one, their bedroom. I crouched there long after the tree bark began biting into my back. Finally the last light went out.

The neighbors were quiet, too. A few watched television, but most were asleep. I needed to get to Brookline, so I didn’t wait as long as I normally would have. In the old days I wouldn’t have gone into a house when I knew there were people inside, but this was different.

Nothing moved on the street as I crossed and eased along the foundation and around back. I could hear voices inside, but couldn’t make out the words through the insulated walls. I waited a few seconds, hoping they’d get louder, but I learned nothing. Farther along, I found a rusty toolbox on the back porch, opened it, and found a screwdriver small enough for my purpose.

I’d worked my way inside hundred of doors. Even though I hadn’t robbed a house in years, the old skills didn’t fail me. The back door opened without alarming anyone and I slipped into the kitchen and crossed the linoleum.

There on the table were the papers I’d signed in Nick’s car. I could have grabbed them and ran off with my rights to Jonathan restored, but that wasn’t why I came. I stood in the middle of the room, a place where my silhouette would stand out even in the dark. Jonathan made no noise upstairs. I heard faint rumblings from the master bedroom and I inched over toward the wall to listen.

“Oh, baby, I can’t believe you did it.” It was Kathleen. She was in bed with him, praising him for getting me out of their life. She’d been so nice to me when I visited Jonathan and now she talked about me like I was a leper.

I didn’t want to hear more, but I couldn’t move. Kathleen moaned. “Oh, that’s even better.”

The dreamy voice reminded me of nights we spent together, when she whispered to me in the midst of lovemaking. I knew what was happening in the room and I wished it was me in there with her. Why I’d thought of Mandla at the park I don’t know, but standing in that kitchen with my ear to the wall, I was convinced that Kathleen and Nick were truly husband and wife and that I’d just given them my son.

I left the house as quietly as I’d come in.

It was ridiculous of me to think Wendell could create a scenario so elaborate. Why would Nick and Kathleen go along with such a thing? And why would Wendell go to all the trouble? He didn’t care that much about one relearner. He was watching me and I was helping him. I was about to help him more than any relearner ever had.

CHAPTER SEVENTY

 

 

On the cab ride over I thought of dozens of places to hide the paperwork Nick had given me, but with each one came a risk I wasn’t willing to take. These papers proved Farnsworth was dirty. Once I delivered them to Wendell, everything would change. But first I had to make it through the night with them in my possession. Even my safe deposit box wasn’t out of Farnsworth’s reach. In the end, I stuffed the folder down my shirt and hoped it didn’t catch on something and give me away. The cabbie thought it was strange for me to get out on the empty street, but I couldn’t have him stop at the front gate and ask Farnsworth to buzz me in. I pressed my thumb to the scanner, climbed out, and waited for the red tail lights to disappear.

I went up the same maple, climbed to the top of the wall, and followed it to where Treasure Island lay in the grass. Seeing the book lying unmolested on the lawn convinced me there were no dogs inside the wall. I hadn’t thought to bring meat and tranquilizers. Even if I had, I’m not sure I would have used them again after Wendell’s tirade. Farnsworth was different, but right was right.

BOOK: The End of Marking Time
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