An Ordinary Decent Criminal (23 page)

“Of course I’m fucking serious. You’ve tried to kick my family out. What did you think I would do?”

The assistant was about two yards away and probably couldn’t hear me over the rain outside, but I really didn’t give a shit, so I leaned in and whispered. “You’re lucky I’m not as bad as you seem to think, or I’d cut your throat from ear to ear.”

Her face went white and I smiled and left. Before I’d made it to the end of the sidewalk, the assistant came running out. She had stopped to pull on a clear plastic overcoat. “Mr. Parker? Please wait.”

I waited and she stood between me and the street. “I’d like to talk to you about this.”

“So talk.”

She bit her lower lip and looked over her shoulder at the house and her boss.

“Not now, I’ve got to get She-Who-Must-Be-Ignored calmed down. She’s ready to send in the marines and I’m sure we can come to some kind of reasonable agreement.”

“She-Who-Must-Be-Ignored? Cute. Come to my place in an hour. I’ll be a little less pissed off.”

“Okay.”

She waited but I didn’t ask, so she offered.

“She-Who-Must-Be-Ignored is a name from the
Rumpole of the Bailey
book series. It’s what he calls his wife. Actually he calls her She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, but I like my version better.” She smiled engagingly. I walked home. All in all, I was relatively cheerful. I’d found out it was Walsh behind some of the crap that seemed to be coming down and that made me feel a little bit more in control.

It took her slightly longer than an hour to show up, which was fine by me. I arranged the dining room table so it was clear and then I stacked the pamphlets from the Tenancies office in the middle. When I was done, I put a chair for her in the middle of the biggest stain on the carpet.

“What the hell are you doing?” Claire had been working at finding me a job, using the newspapers and telephone, and when she came out of the kitchen, she had a pad of scrap paper.

“Our landlord’s assistant is coming over right away to talk. I’m just setting the stage.”

Claire looked at the table and the chairs and sat down on the stairs. “Trying to take the moral high ground?”

I went into the kitchen and came out with the good china service, which we kept in a large wooden wine crate, and I carefully removed each piece and dealt them around the table like cards.

“Nope. Just trying to make her queasy. Think it’ll work?”

“Maybe. She’s smart, I think. I dealt with her personally when renting this place.” Claire stared at the set-up and tapped the phone
book with her fingers. Then she added, “Should work. I’m going to sit in, if that’s okay with you?”

It was so I got out another setting and then brought the missing chair from the back room where I’d stashed it. A few minutes after everything was ready, Fred started to nod off towards his afternoon nap and I took him to his room and tucked him in. Ten minutes later the assistant rang the bell and Claire let her in just as I reached the door.

“Hello, Mr. Parker, Mrs. Parker.”

She stood in the foyer until I felt constrained to offer her a hand removing her coat and motioning for her to remove her boots.

“Come in, Ms. . . . ? You know—I don’t know your name.”

She was right behind me and she laughed. “I guess we haven’t been formally introduced. My name is Vanessa Rose. Should I call you Mr. Parker or Mr. Haaviko or what?”

“Just Sam.”

We went through the living room into the dining room and I watched carefully but she didn’t have any reaction I could see to the stained carpet. Claire was already sitting down and pouring coffee by the time I reached my seat. “Do you take milk or sugar or fake sugar or none of the above?”

Vanessa sat down and put an oversized canvas purse primly in her lap. “The first two, please.”

She accepted the cup and drank from it with her little finger partially extended. Claire refilled my cup and then turned a little in her seat. “Dear? The dog’s outside, do you think that’s all right?”

“He’ll be just fine. He hates the weather, you see.”

I addressed the comment to Vanessa but it bounced right off her meaningless smile. From where I was sitting, I could see that she had her feet raised so they weren’t touching the carpet but were hooked on the rungs of her chair. I had to bury a grin in the cup and then I continued. “So. You wanted to talk.”

Claire watched patiently as Vanessa put down her
cup and set her purse on the table. She glanced at the pamphlets and focused on me. “I’ve read your letter and there is some merit to the points you’ve raised. However, at the same time, we do feel that you misrepresented yourself to us and, therefore, we have grounds to evict you.”

She raised a hand to fend off any anger that I might be feeling, but I wasn’t feeling any so the gesture was wasted. Claire had to drown her own grin in her coffee and Vanessa just rattled on when she figured out that neither of us was going to react. “We do feel that perhaps we were, shall we say, overly enthusiastic about the eviction notice. If we were to extend the time involved by, say, three weeks, would that be acceptable?”

Neither Claire nor I said anything and she went on. “And, of course, we’d add in some money to help in your moving expenses, perhaps five hundred dollars. We would also return your damage deposit, all four hundred and fifty, for a total of nine hundred and fifty dollars.”

She looked expectant and Claire spoke up. “So we’d have three weeks before we’d have to leave?”

“Yes.”

Vanessa drank some coffee.

“And you’d give us five hundred dollars on top of everything?”

“Yes. We think that would be fair.”

Claire smiled. “But why should we move? I mean, we’re in the right, right?”

Vanessa didn’t react and Claire went on. “And we, my husband and I both, really like this town and this house. So you see our problem.”

“Well, we could go as high as a thousand dollars to help with your relocation.”

Claire looked at me and I gazed blankly back and she nodded and answered. “No.”

Vanessa was startled. “What?”

“No. We don’t want to leave. We’ll go right away if you find us another equivalent residence here in town but, other than that, no.”

Vanessa leaned back in her seat and let her feet touch the ground. “Under the law we can ask you to vacate if we give you three months’ warning.”

“Sure. So, are you going to give us our warning now?”

She gritted her teeth, both figuratively and in reality. “I don’t want to, but I will.”

“Fine. Do it in writing.”

Vanessa reached into her purse and came out with a sealed envelope but, before she could put it on the table, I spoke up. “Wait a second. What about the repairs to bring this place up to standard?”

“They’ll be done.”

“When?”

She put the envelope down and Claire opened it and read it. When she was finished, she nodded and then held up a hand to me before asking another question. “You know that this letter says that the property is going to be, and I quote, ‘extensively renovated’?”

Claire gave her a chance to answer but Vanessa didn’t say a word. “You didn’t have to say that. Now you’re actually going to have to do it.”

Vanessa shrugged again and Claire went on. “We’ll want a replacement carpet in right away. Is there a place in town or do you use a contractor?”

Vanessa growled a little and poured herself a refill without asking. “What does it matter?”

Claire looked at her with the sweetest possible expression on her face. “I’m going to call them tomorrow. I just want to make sure I get the right place.”

“Don’t do that. I’ll do that. That’s my job.”

Claire tapped the letter in front of her. “Just like you kept the place up to standards? You’re not stupid, you knew what your boss was doing, why’d you go along with it?”

“She’s my boss.”

Vanessa looked a little confused and Claire tapped the letter again.

“Even though all the repairs can be written off? Even though the repairs build up the equity of the property? Doing it this way is not very smart at all.”

Vanessa thought about it for a moment and when she spoke again her voice was compounded equally of mild anger and distaste. Oddly enough, it didn’t seem to be directed at either of us but more towards the world in general and her boss in specific.

“I agree. I’m quite money-oriented. However, my boss doesn’t see things in quite that way and she’s the boss. In the end, it’s her decision.”

Claire put her pad of paper on the table and picked up a pen. “So the name of your carpet place is . . . ?”

“Hansen’s. It’s in the North End nearby.”

“Good.”

I looked back and forth at the two women and then spoke up. “So we’ll be gone in three months. That’s plenty of time.”

Vanessa had refilled her cup from the pale pink and gold pot and was idly stirring her coffee.

“Plenty of time to do what?”

“Oh, mostly to convince you and your boss to let us keep the place. We really are very fond of it. It’s just right for us.”

She snorted, which was a very unladylike noise indeed. “Fat chance. My boss does not change her mind.”

“Wanna bet?”

She looked at me and then at Claire and then back at me again. “No. I don’t bet.”

Claire reached over and patted her arm. “That’s very wise of you.” She turned to me and said solemnly, “See, I told you she was bright.”

I laughed and Vanessa closed her purse and looked around the room for a few minutes. I could see the muscles tense in her throat a couple of times and then relax, so I waited until she said what she needed to say. “Well, now that that’s all settled, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“You don’t seem like a, I don’t know, bad guy, I suppose.”

Before answering, I drank some more coffee. “Well, not now. I used to be one, though. I used to be really bad but I stopped.”

There were more words in my mouth and more ideas but I held them back with difficulty and continued on a different track. “I just stopped.”

It sounded lame and it hung there for a long time while Claire held her hand out where I could take it, but I didn’t reach out and she pulled hers back.

“But . . . killing those three boys. How did it make you feel?”

I stared at her and fought down a surprising surge of rage. Claire noticed and moved around to kiss me on my cheek. When she spoke, I could feel her breath tickling the hair around my ear. “She didn’t mean anything.”

Vanessa was starting to look a little worried and I exhaled loudly through my nose.

“It made me angry and sad.”

She stared at me and shook her head. “Really?”

Claire was holding onto my shoulder quite tightly and I looked up and addressed what I said to her alone. “Yes, really.”

For a second I thought there was a tear in Claire’s eye and then she squeezed my shoulder again.

Vanessa deadpanned, “Strange. I wouldn’t have felt a thing.”

I started clearing the table. I wanted to say something nasty, but instead I spoke very carefully. As though it was something important to recount. “I didn’t feel a thing the first time. Or the second. Or even the third. After that, well, sometimes I felt happy and really good and that scared the piss out of me. Eventually I started to feel a little pleasure every time. It was right after that that I decided to stop being bad.”

Vanessa stared at me and a slow flush came across her face. And then, abruptly, she left.

Thompson phoned a little after 5:00 p.m. I’d just finished taking the last load of garbage out of the basement and packing it neatly in the same cardboard boxes we’d used for moving. While I was coming in from the back door, the phone jangled and I caught it on the second ring. “ ’Lo?”

Thompson sounded sober. “I just received a phone call from the Crown attorney. The RCMP are serving a warrant tomorrow morning at your residence and they’re giving us notice.”

“That’s great. Why?”

He answered, confused, “Why what?”

“Why give us notice, that’s not standard procedure, is it?”

“Well, no. They probably wanted to make sure everything went by the book. That makes sense, right?”

“Sure. Oh, are you and your wife coming over on Saturday for the barbecue? We sent out a note but haven’t received a response yet.”

Thompson was quiet for a few moments. “Sure, I think so. I guess my wife has the letter, I haven’t seen it yet. But sure. Now, about tomorrow, the cops are coming at 9:00 sharp.”

“Can you make it yourself?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t want to miss this. I’ll see you then.”

Claire came down from the second floor, holding a half-filled garbage bag. “Who was that?”

“Thompson. The cops are going to search the house tomorrow morning.”

“Ah, shit. No point in cleaning, then.”

She dropped the bag and sat on the stairs.