The Blade Itself (6 page)

When they were finished, he got up to throw the wadded plastic bag in the trash. On his way back he had one of those flashes when he saw her, really saw her. Not through the myopic eyes of habit and time, but as a real person, self-possessed and smiling. How had he gotten so lucky? Not only to get out, but to do it with a woman who knew his past yet was willing to bet on their future. He sat down, then spun and laid his head in her lap. She stroked his hair while the sky burned blue and the wind tossed autumn branches in kaleidoscope patterns.

‘Happy.’ He sighed. ‘Very happy.’

She snorted. ‘You better be. You want me to peel you a grape?’

He laughed and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of rattling leaves and the joyful burble of Saturday people. Then something collided with their bench. Danny’s instincts jerked his eyes open and had him bolt upright before he recognized it as a kid, a black boy maybe five years old. The kid paused for a moment and flashed them a dazzling smile, all dimples and white teeth, then rebounded off the bench in the opposite direction. He joined a group of children playing tag in front of the gibbons’ cage, shouting as they raced the restless animals. Danny settled back to find Karen smiling down at him.

‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ she said, in the tone that meant it wasn’t nothing.

‘Really, what?’

‘You ever think about having one of those?’

‘A little black boy?’

She laughed and bobbled his head with her knee. ‘I’m serious.’

‘Really?’ He could hear the surprise in his own voice. ‘A kid?’

She looked away, then back. ‘No pressure.’

‘No, I just…’ In truth, he hadn’t much thought about it. ‘I don’t know. It’s scary.’ He had a flash of Dad’s pained expression as he stared around the visiting room of Cook County Correctional. That had been hard. But how much harder to endure the same bafflement and hurt on the face of a son? He’d long ago sworn never to have a kid so long as he lived the life.

But then, he didn’t anymore. It was a fact that continued to surprise and please him, like discovering a wad of cash in the pocket of a coat he rarely wore. He’d been straight for
years, with a job, a home, and a relationship to prove it. Though he and Karen had never done the wedding thing, it was only because the ritual meant nothing to them. He didn’t need a ring to be faithful. And they both brought in solid money – far more than he had been able to count on hustling.

Maybe in this new world he could be a father. Maybe such a thing was possible. If Danny Carter could have health insurance and mortgage payments, why not this?

‘What would we name him?’

She laughed. ‘You mean her.’ And bent down to press her soft lips to his, under skies blowing wild as the hope in his heart.

It took Danny thirty minutes to fight his way down Clark, and another ten to find a parking place. The Cubs looked good, and the streets and sidewalks were thronged with fans hoping that maybe this year they wouldn’t get their hearts broken. Danny was just hoping to finish his errands and get home before the sun set. It was Sunday, another beautiful day, and he had a date with an Elmore Leonard novel and the lounge chair on his fire escape.

He walked two blocks to a copy and shipping place. The air-conditioning inside felt stale. Two bucks in quarters and ten minutes worth of forms later, he was finally done with work. The girl who checked him out asked if he wanted anything else.

‘Just a beer,’ he said, and smiled.

She smiled back, a flirtatious look Danny didn’t respond to. Just waved and strolled out, thinking of the easiest way to get home. He could probably cut over to Halsted and dodge some of the traffic.

Evan stood in front of him.

Danny dropped his bag. Chemicals pounded through his bloodstream, his nerves gauging fight or flight.

His old partner had a little smile on his lips like he was amused to have startled Danny. Like getting him off balance had been the point. People surged around them, wearing Cubs shirts and yelling to one another, but Danny hardly noticed.

‘Hey.’ Evan stepped forward, put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Let’s get a drink.’

Keep walking
, a voice in Danny’s head whispered.
Just go
. But he let himself be led into a dim corner bar with a neon skull-and-crossbones in the window. Evan dropped his arm once they were inside, and gestured to a corner table. By the time they reached it, Danny had his cool back. He signaled for the waitress and flipped what he hoped was an easy grin. ‘Here for the game?’

Evan snorted. ‘No.’

A pretty brunette with a friendly smile bounced over, and they both ordered, neither looking at the extensive chalkboard beer list. Danny waited till she was gone, then tried on a quizzical expression. ‘So?’

‘We didn’t finish talking before. But now it’s Sunday afternoon. So you won’t have to get your panties bunched about work.’

Danny let the remark slide.

‘You live up here now, huh?’ Evan asked.

‘Not far.’

‘A house, a woman, a truck. All settled in, snug as shit.’

He nodded, thinking, A
truck
? Wondering if Evan had just made an assumption, why he hadn’t said a car. The waitress appeared with two pints on a tray. Evan gave her a ten, told her to keep the change, and they clinked glasses with eyes locked.

‘So that’s what you get. Life as a civilian.’

‘That’s all I want.’

‘Yeah? And what do I get?’

‘For what?’

‘For what.’ Evan shook his head, smiling ruefully as he tapped a cigarette free. He lit the smoke with the Zippo, snapped it closed, set it neatly on top of the pack. Blew jets of smoke from his nostrils, eyes hard now. ‘How long we known each other?’

‘Since we were kids.’

‘That’s right. Just a couple of Irish kids in a blue-collar neighborhood, spics competing with blacks to see who could move in faster. We made it through that shit by sticking together.’

Danny decided to preempt the speech. ‘You’re pissed I walked out.’

Evan raised his eyebrows, not saying yes or no. His look said
street
. It said
danger
.

‘Fuck you.’ Showing strength was the first rule. ‘You went crazy in there.’

‘I hadn’t shot him, that dude would have drilled you.’

‘Bullshit,’ Danny said. ‘He’d have told me to freeze, called the cops. Anyway, we should have been out the back with the money before he even showed up. Nobody would have gotten hurt. Nobody would have gone to jail.’

‘Always the man with the plan. How about this, Einstein?’ Jabbing at him with the cigarette. ‘You owe me. First I saved your ass, then I kept my mouth shut and went down alone. Twelve years the judge gave me and banged his little hammer, and you not even in the courtroom to see it. You know what I was doing while you were becoming a yuppie? Celling with a two-hundred-and-sixty-pound gangbanger named Isaiah. He knows I’m not affiliated, so he’s eyeing me to decide if I’m a guppy or a shark. How would you sleep?’

Danny held his hands up for peace. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to work out that way.’ He kept his game face up, but behind it, his mind hummed. Yesterday, he’d have bet his savings account that he’d never see his old partner again. Now it seemed like Evan might have other plans, and if so, Danny needed to find a way to mollify him quickly. And then get the guy out of his life for good. ‘And I’m grateful you kept quiet.’

Evan leaned back, sighed, stabbed out the cigarette. ‘Yeah, all right.’

They sipped their beer in silence. The memory of his own jail time came to Danny’s mind. Summer camp compared with Stateville, but still plenty bad. The worst was the feeling, always, that danger rode hard on your back. Something as simple as holding a gaze too long – or not long enough – and bam, the shit storm started.

‘I came out short seven years.’ Evan seemed calmer, his voice level. ‘Okay, bad beat. But I figure when I go home, I’ll find my partner waiting with a new plan to make us money, that we’ll get back to work.

‘Only that’s not what happens. Instead, my partner, he’s nowhere to be found. I have to track him down. And when I do? He tells me he’s legit. Then he buys me a beer and tells me good luck, ’cause he’s got work tomorrow and can’t be late.’

Danny kept his face calm.
Don’t show any fear, and don’t give anything away
.

‘I say bullshit to that. From where I’m sitting, you got everything and I got nothing. You owe me.’

‘What am I supposed to do? Dig out my tools and go back to work?’

Evan shrugged. ‘Why not? The money is better as a team. And I been away too long. I need somebody who knows how to work. Someone I can trust.’

‘I’ve been away as long as you have. If you need someone in the game, I’m not your guy.’

‘I’m not talking knowing fences. I’m talking about spotting opportunities. Help me level us out.’

‘No.’ Danny spoke without any hesitation.

‘No?’

‘I’m not going back to work,’ Danny said. ‘Period. I’m not.’

‘So I should just crawl back to my hole?’

‘I don’t mean any disrespect. But my life is different now, and I won’t go back.’

‘Then,’ Evan leaned back, lighting another cigarette, ‘we have a problem.’

Careful. Be very careful
. He remembered Evan’s temper all too well, how it could seize him, a white-hot fire that burned out his sense and self-control.

‘I don’t have any problem.’ A play had been spinning in his brain since that night Evan had surprised him out with McCloskey. A little bit crazy, yeah, but still… maybe worth trying. ‘In fact, I’ve got an idea.’

‘Yeah?’

‘But listen, you’re going to have to relax and think it over. Don’t just snap on me, all right, compadre?’ He took a breath to steady himself. ‘I can’t come back. But I can help you earn.’

Evan leaned forward, his head cocked.

‘I can give you a job.’

‘You know a good score?’

‘No, I mean a
job
. A civilian job.’ As he spoke, he stared at Evan, trying to read a hint of a reaction. Hopefully he’d see it as a peace offering. Or maybe even a grift, and expect the money without the work. Danny couldn’t let that happen, but he’d welcome the play. It would mean that they were at the negotiating table. Better than squaring off.

‘A civilian job.’ His face a mask, Evan held the cigarette to his lips, took a long pull. ‘In construction.’

‘Think about it. You know plenty to get started, and the pay is good.’

Evan shook his head, chuckling to himself. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘I’m making as much money as we ever did – more – and nobody can look at me sideways. This is a chance to start
clean. It’s a good offer.’ Danny waited, but silence was the only reply. ‘The best I can do.’

Silence. Evan wasn’t biting. That was okay – Danny hadn’t really expected him to, not immediately. But maybe he’d consider it, spot the opportunity to escape the shadow of prison. And if not… well, Danny didn’t want to be sitting across the table from him if not. He stood up. ‘Think about it. Let me know if you’re interested.’

Evan crushed his cigarette.

‘And thanks for the beer.’ Despite the pounding of his heart, Danny made himself walk slow and steady, and didn’t look back as he shouldered open the door and stepped into the afternoon.

‘Smug, down-talking fucker.’ Evan spat the words.

‘Who is, baby?’ Debbie Lackey – she hated ‘Deb’ and ‘Deborah,’ always ‘Debbie,’ like Debbie Harry– struck her best pout, flipping blonde hair back over one shoulder.

Evan looked annoyed as he glanced over, like he was surprised to see her there. ‘The guy we’re waiting for.’ He turned back to stare out the driver’s side window of the Mustang.

She wished he’d let her put on some music. They’d been sitting here half an hour, and he hadn’t wanted to talk the whole time. She surveyed the street again, hoping for something to take her attention. It was pretty, lots of trees with bright October leaves, rows of graystone apartments fronted by expensive cars. The people who walked their dogs carried little plastic bags to pick up the poop. ‘Your friend lives in a nice neighborhood.’

He nodded, still not looking at her.

‘Lots of money. Remember I worked for the maid service? We did a lot of these places.’

‘Stole a lot of watches and earrings.’

‘Fuck you, Mr Armed Robbery.’

He snorted.

‘How long are we going to sit here?’

‘Until we’re done,’ he said. ‘Not like you have anywhere to be, right? You quit your job.’ He reached for his cigarettes, tapped the bottom, and pulled one out with his teeth, like a tough guy in the movies. Despite herself, it gave her a thrill.

‘What were you doing again?’

‘Massage therapy. I took a night course at the community center ’cause anything was better than waiting tables. I thought I’d work in one of those nice places, you know, with the candles and that Asian music and everything smelling good? But it turns out they all want experience. So I ended up at this joint on Twenty-fifth to work my way up. Only,’ she laughed, remembering, ‘these guys, I’d start on their backs, but when they rolled over, they’d be sporting wood. And that wasn’t what I had planned to work my way up, you know?’

He laughed with his head thrown back, the way he used to. Nice to see. He’d become so much quieter than she remembered. Back in the early nineties, they’d had some good times. Tear-assing down Lakeshore with the radio up loud and his hand in her panties, the speedometer hitting 109 as he hit her spot. Or the time they cleaned out her liquor cabinet, starting with bourbon and tequila, and then when the good stuff ran out, moving to the party leftovers; coconut rum, vermouth, and finally shots of crème de menthe as the sunrise poured pink across the linoleum kitchen floor. Hell, some great times. She didn’t mind starting them up again.

Down the block, a glass door shook, shivering the reflection of flaming trees, and then swung open. ‘Morning, partner,’ Evan said, stabbing out his cigarette without taking his eyes from the apartment. The same man they’d trailed the other day stepped out. Nice-looking guy in khakis and an open-collared oxford, turning to smile at the brunette that followed him out.