Borderland (30 page)

Vic's
pulse quickened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Who asked you to
get involved?"

"My
conscience," Nolan said. He moved aside to let Vic past. "Have a good
trip…buddy."

"I
will." Vic started down the hall then he paused and turned around.
"You just love a good crusade, don't you, Nolan? If you can't find one,
you make one up. It must be a bitch being a lifeguard without a beach. But at
least it keeps your mind off your own shitty existence. Right?"

Nolan
merely looked at him, his face expressionless. Vic shook his head and continued
down the hall. The nosy bastard. The dumb shit never learned. Always sticking
his nose where it didn't belong. Always casting doubts on everything. Couldn't
he see how good Vic had it here?

Yeah.
Okay. That was it. He did see, and he was jealous. Jealous because Vic was in
law enforcement again and making other friends. Good friends. Friends who cared
about something besides Coors, cooze, and cars. Nolan couldn't stand it that
Vic was getting on his feet again without the wonderful Mr. Wulf's brand of
Good Samaritan succor. He had always been jealous, jealous of Vic's good
marriage, his rapid promotions on the force and . . .

That
car. How the hell had it wound up in Al's yard? And if Gil Schwarz had in fact
delivered it, what the hell was he doing with it?

Maybe he
shouldn't have told Jinx about the men after Cal. He thought Jinx had a right
to know, since the car was causing so much gossip and speculation in town. But
had Jinx told anyone else? Say, Gil Schwarz, who was known to be something of a
hothead? He would have to ask.

And he
would have to hurry if he wanted to make it into town by nine. Jinx frowned on
tardiness.

He said
a rushed goodbye to Myra, Cal, and the girls and ran out to the Lincoln. He
would leave it in town until his return. He didn't want Nolan giving Cal any
driving lessons in his car. And Nolan would, Vic thought. He'd do something
like that just to piss me off.

When he
reached town he saw Jinx's blue Fleetwood Cadillac parked in front of the
diner. He parked beside it and hefted his suitcase out of the backseat. He left
the case on the ground beside the Caddy and rushed inside the diner. Tom Hamm
stood at the counter. Jinx was locking up the door to the back room. Vic
greeted both men and glanced at his watch. He was four minutes late.

"Change
of plans," Jinx said abruptly. "Tom's wife decided she could tear
herself away from the television long enough to visit her son, so she's goin'
along with him in his car. You and me are goin' in my car, Vic. And since we
can't explain our business to Mrs. Hamm we'll be goin' to Albuquerque instead
of Santa Fe. It's a big city and it'll serve our purpose just fine…if you know
what I mean. You ready?"

Vic
nodded. "I'm ready."

"Good,"
Jinx said. He walked over to pat Tom Hamm on the arm. "You have a good
trip now and don't worry about us. We'll do just fine without you."

Tom
smiled. "I know you will."

"Let's
go, Vic." Jinx ushered them out and locked the front door of the diner.
"Can't be too careful with Ed Kisner on the watch," he said with a
chuckle.

Vic walked
to the trunk of the Caddy and picked up his suitcase. Jinx came and took it
from him. His thin arms strained as he opened the back door of the Caddy and
shoved it into the backseat beside his own suitcase. "Regular grease pit
in the trunk, Vic. Wouldn't put my worst pair of mud waders back there."

"Where's
the coke?" Vic asked.

"Huh?"

"The
cocaine, Jinx. Where is it?"

"Oh."
The old man grinned. "It's in my bag back there. Don't you worry, Vic. I
may be old, but I ain't senile. Not by a long shot. I wouldn't run off and
forget the reason for this little excursion."

"Glad
to hear it," Vic said.

Jinx got
behind the wheel and unlocked the passenger door. When Vic had settled himself
in and fastened his belt, he found the old man looking at him.

"Somethin'
botherin' you, Vic? You're lookin' awful troubled."

"A
few things," Vic said. He was actually thinking of Nolan, but the mere
mention of his name would send Jinx into a tirade against the
"freeloader." Out of pride, Vic had neglected to tell Jinx that it
was actually the other way around. Now it didn't seem important. The old man's
opinion of Nolan counted for shit as far as Vic was concerned. Nolan would be
gone soon.

"What
things?" Jinx inquired.

"Just
minor," Vic said. "Starting with the fact that what we're setting out
to do is dangerous and illegal. I wouldn't mind having a gun along. I'm still
not used to being without one."

"A
coward needs a gun," Jinx said. "Are you a coward Vic Kimmler?"

Vic's
lip instinctively curled. "Coming from a man who's never lived in a big
city, I'd say that's a pretty ignorant statement. The cities are full of
cowards, Jinx, and the man who goes unarmed against them is something worse
than a coward—he's dead."

"Spoken
like a true cop," Jinx said, grinning again. He started the engine and put
the car in gear. "Better get out. If you ain't found your balls by now,
you ain't goin' to. I said I'd do it myself and I meant it."

"Just
drive the fucking car," Vic said, angry again.

Jinx's
eyes narrowed. "Maybe you'd better calm down a bit first."

Vic
settled back, his teeth still clenched. The anger came all too quickly lately.
And when he wasn't angry, he was nervous and tense. High-strung, his dead
mother would say. High, low, or gut level, the sonofabitching wire was taut to
the point of snapping. If Jinx would kindly stop tightening the struts, they
could go and get this bullshit over with. He would be able to sleep comfortably
again once the coke business had been settled. The last few nights had been hell,
even with his pills.

"Drive,"
he repeated.

Jinx
took his foot off the brake and coasted back in reverse. When a horn blared, he
swerved to the right. Vic heard a loud bumping sound from the direction of the
trunk. He looked back and saw Gil Schwarz shaking a fat finger at Jinx's guilty
grin. Schwarz sat in his pickup, a good three yards away from the Caddy. They
hadn't been hit.

"What
bumped?" Vic asked Jinx.

"Huh?"

"I
heard a bump in the back right after you swerved."

"Oh.
Must be those five-gallon pails I got back there," Jinx told him.
"That lard I was tellin' you about. We're okay. Gil didn't cream us this
time."

That
reminded Vic. He told Jinx about the car that had turned up in Al Dunwoodie's
salvage yard. Jinx's entire face creased with his frown as he drove.

"You
say your friend knows this fella pretty good?"

"Nolan
likes him," Vic answered. "Al's been to the house for dinner."

"Awful
big of you, ain't it?" Jinx said. "Feedin' all Wulf's friends when
you ain't got a pot to piss in."

Vic
ignored that. "Don't try to change the subject. Did you tell anyone else
what I told you? About the trouble Myra and Cal have been having with the
in-laws?"

"You
mean did I tell Gil Schwarz," Jinx said.

"Yes,"
Vic said. "That's what I mean."

Jinx's
mouth became pinched. "Appears to me it don't matter either way. If them
men was causin' as much trouble as you claimed then you oughta be glad they had
themselves a car accident and had to leave."

Vic
stared at the old man. "Is that what happened? Did they leave?"

"I
ain't seen 'em," Jinx said, already smiling again. "Have you? If Gil
took it into his head to hurry 'em along, I'm sure he thought he was doin' Myra
and the boy a big favor. Just protectin' Denke's own, Vic. You wanna take it up
with him, that's fine by me. You're the law now, and you gotta do what you
think is best."

Vic was
still staring. "Did you see him do anything to them?"

Jinx
laughed. "Me? I ain't seen a thing. And I'm doin' a lot of supposin' here,
Vic. I don't know nothin' for sure. I'm just sayin' that Gil gets some strange
ideas on occasion. Most of 'em are harmless, but when he takes somethin' into
his head he's like a blind dog with a big meaty bone—he won't give it up till
he sees the light."

Vic
guessed that to mean never. And he also guessed that Gil Schwarz's loyalty was
somewhat doglike. He was sweet on Myra, wasn't he? Maybe the big, grabby fool
had thought to win his way into her graces by taking care of her most pressing
problem. But how? Had he caused the wreck himself? And how had the men left—on
foot? How badly had they been injured?

He
rubbed his face with his hands and looked away from the older man. Maybe Nolan
was right. Maybe there was something rotten here in Denke. But did he want to
uncover it?

Fuck it.
No sense worrying about it. Couldn't have happened to a nicer pair of guys.
Like Jinx said, he should be glad the problem was solved. Right now he had
other things to think about. Like the going price for a gram in Albuquerque.

In the
back of the car there was another bumping sound. Vic closed his eyes and
ignored it. Who but the owner of a greasy diner would carry five-gallon pails
of lard in the trunk? He laid his head back against the seat and wished for a
glass of water. He wanted to take another pill.

CHAPTER 26

Ed
Kisner knew the score. He was not a stupid man. Slowly but surely, under Jinx
Lahr's direction, he knew he was being marked an outcast. Certain members of
the council had been less than warm to him lately, and other people in town
were lately watching him, their eyes curious but wary. Jinx was up to his old
tricks, Ed knew. The schoolyard bully had reached his second childhood and was
meaner than ever.

"But
I'm on to him," Ed told his reflection in the shop mirror. He leaned in,
snipped the hairs in his nose then paused to sneeze. After wiping the snot from
the mirror he smiled. "Yes I am, Jinx. I'm on to you this time, you bald
old fart. And I'm smarter now."

Smart
enough to know Jinx wouldn't be happy until Ed was dead and Len was in his
place. Jinx hated Len, too, but Len fit into his plans for the next generation.
Young, strong Len, the next Kisner on the council. There would be no Lahr
progeny on the council. Old Jinx and his worthless sperm.

Why else
would he have no children? Ed had seen the man spark plenty of women in his
time, but every oven remained cool. Jinx was obviously sterile. Jinx and Gil
Schwarz, the mutant brothers. Their Schwarzness was the only explanation for
their sterility. God didn't like their faces.

And
Jinx's childlessness was all the more reason for him to hate Ed with such
passion. Len was a fine specimen, healthy, solidly built, and smart like his
daddy. Most of the other council members had come up with three or four girls
before a boy was born. Ed's toothless grandmother told him that in the old days
men shopped around if the wife didn't come up with a boy after the first two
tries. It started with the original adopted that had to steal their wives from
families passing through. Wilbur Denke wouldn't have approved of the shopping
method, but then Denke's only son had been a queer boy who'd found himself
mysteriously (Schwarzly) murdered before he ever needed a wife. And lots of
wives were needed. If the first one didn't work out another was stolen and on
and on until a son was finally born. If woman-stealing had still been in
practice in his parents' day, Ed thought the triple-murder tragedy before Jinx
Lahr's birth would never have happened.

But by
then, of course, woman-stealing was dangerous and risky. Divorce was preferable
to prison, and by the next generation even divorce was made more difficult. A
man could be robbed legally.

Ed had
been lucky to come up with Len on the first try. The other men’s’ wives looked
like fifty miles of bad road by the time a son came along, poor saggy-bellied
things. Nobody cared about daughters. If they were Eskimos, Ed often thought
the female infants would have been killed. They did that sometimes, those
Eskimos. If the men in old Denke had thought of it, Ed supposed they'd have
killed girl babies too. In present Denke, girl babies outnumbered the boy
babies by about seven to one.

God
again, Ed thought, a subtle means to phase out the Denke way of doing things.
Ed himself had a great deal of respect for the female gender. They did it
right. They got upset about the little things as a means of releasing tension,
so when the big stuff came they didn't fall over dead of a heart attack from
the stress. That's why they lived longer. They got upset over the little
things.

His wife
was upset because Coral Nenndorf had stopped talking to her. Ed was surprised
she cared. Coral was a ghoulish-looking spook with all that makeup and fake
stuff. But she sure as hell thought she was high society, and since she thought
so, everyone else was supposed to think so too. Ed didn't. Made him want to
bare his dentures just to think about that fingernail-clicking bitch. She liked
to lord it over the other women because she believed she was the only female in
on the real lowdown about Denke. She probably wasn't, all things told. Females
were a hell of a lot smarter than they liked to let on—Coral, of course, being
the exception. She let on like she was a hell of a lot smarter than she really
was. Once she'd even told her husband that she honestly believed the womenfolk
could do a better job than the men had. All they needed was a chance to prove
it.