The Clockwork Teddy (12 page)

“Call her and threaten her. Follow her when she’s going someplace. Scare her so that she complains about Lycaon harassing her.”

“Rob her at a teddy bear show?”

“Yeah, that was all Vandenbosch’s idea.” Bronsey wagged his finger at me. “The kid says that the worse we can make Lycaon look, the better for him. And I didn’t hurt her. There was never any plan to hurt her.”

“Physically. So, let me get this straight. You agreed to terrorize an innocent woman and run the risk of going to state prison for stalking and robbery for a measly thousand dollars?”

He looked down at the table and muttered, “No. I wouldn’t agree to do it until he doubled his offer.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that you stood up for your principles.” I glanced at Ash, who was gaping at Bronsey as if he were an enormous cockroach.

Outside, I heard the unmistakable throaty rumble of a big Harley-Davidson motorcycle coming to a stop in front of the bar. Whoever was riding it revved the engine loudly a couple of times before shutting the hog off. The overwhelming majority of Harley owners are decent folks, but I also knew that decent folks would never leave their prized bikes unattended outside a bar in a demilitarized zone like the Tenderloin. There’s only one kind of Harley owner who feels safe doing that: the kind who wear motorcycle gang colors and absolutely hate cops, whether they’re still on the job or retired. I shot a wary glance at the door and was suddenly a little relieved that Bronsey was armed.

Bronsey had also turned in his seat to watch the entrance. The door flew open and it took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to shout,
Young lady, just where do you think you are going dressed like that?
It was our blue-haired daughter, Heather, who was marginally attired in denim cutoff shorts that were way too short and tight, black boots, and a skimpy black tank top. Merv was staring like he’d just seen paradise and I wanted to slap him. Meanwhile, Ash was slack-jawed with amazement.

Heather sauntered over to the bar, followed by Colin, who looked every inch the grimy outlaw biker, right down to the tattoo of a laughing Satan on his right bicep. He had a smoldering cigarette in the corner of his mouth, and when the bartender meekly said there was no smoking in the bar, Colin gave a brutal laugh and told the guy to shut up unless he wanted his ass beat. This seemed to settle the issue of whether he could smoke in the bar. Heather and Colin sat down on bar stools, ordered beers, and demanded that the bartender turn the music up. A few seconds later, the place was vibrating to the sounds of Eric Clapton’s “Cocaine.”

I cleared my throat. “Getting back to Vandenbosch’s diversionary operation. Merv? Can I have your attention, please?”

Bronsey finally tore his gaze from our daughter’s derriere. “Yeah, Vandenbosch.”

“Merv, focus on me and don’t look back over there again. Motorcycle Man will squash you like a bug if he sees you looking at her like that,” I said quietly, while resisting the urge to clobber him myself. “Was the man killed at the Paladin the same guy who was dressed in the bear suit in Sonoma?”

“Yeah. His name was Joey Uhlander. He used to be one of my street snitches when I was still on the PD and he did odd jobs for me.” Bronsey held up his empty glass to signal the bartender that he needed another refill, which also gave him another opportunity to devour Heather with his eyes.

Ash gave me a brief and icy sidelong glance that unmistakably said:
I don’t know how much more of this I can take before going postal.

Once the drink had been delivered and Bronsey had paid for it, I asked, “So, why did you bring Uhlander in on the deal?”

“I couldn’t pull off the robbery and then hang around to pin it on Lycaon, could I?” Bronsey sounded annoyed that I was so obtuse.

“But why dress him in a bear costume?”

“Joey grew up in Sonoma. He was afraid somebody would recognize him.”

“And if he looked like most street snitches, you probably wanted him in disguise anyway. Especially at a teddy bear show. He’d have stuck out like a sore thumb.”

“That, too. ”

“Not that it’s important, but how much did your associate get for his work?”

“A hundred plus whatever was in the cashbox.”

“Did he get anything extra for going to the Paladin with you?”

“No.” He took a big swallow of rum and coke and then continued in a small voice, “I feel bad for Joey. I had no idea that crap was going to go down.”

“You must have had
some
idea that there could be trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kyle told his mom that Uhlander pulled a gun,” I lied and reminded myself to be damn careful. If I said anything to give away the fact I’d been at the Paladin with the detectives, the best-case scenario was that Bronsey would bail before we could find out what had happened in the motel room. And I didn’t even want to think about the worst-case scenario.

Bronsey grimaced. “Look, you’ve got to believe me. I didn’t know Joey was carrying. But even so, he was acting in self-defense.”

“Were you armed?”

“I’m a PI. I have a Concealed Carry permit.”

“I guess that’s a big
yes
. What kind of a gun?”

“Glock nine-mil.”

“So, who picked the meeting site at the Paladin?”

“Vandenbosch. He called me just after seven to tell me that he’d slipped whoever was tailing him. He said to come over to the Paladin, Room Four, at eight o’clock.”

“So, you and Joey went. Did anybody else go with you?”

“No. Why?”

“Because Kyle’s mom also says that some woman tried to force her way into the room just before you got there. Kyle apparently thought you sent her as a distraction.”

“Then that was geek boy’s first time staying at the Paladin. You know what kind of place it is, Lyon. It’d be suspicious if a chick
wasn’t
trying to get into your room.”

“Agreed. But just so that we’re clear on this, you don’t know who the woman was?”

“Not a clue.” Bronsey sounded like he was telling the truth.

I asked, “Did you and Joey go there in different vehicles?”

“Yeah. I took my truck. Joey had some beater car.”

“And there’s no delicate way to phrase this, so I’m just going to come right out and ask. Were you and Joey going to rob Kyle of the bear and keep the purchase money?”

Bronsey had the glass to his lips and managed to catch himself before spraying us with his drink. “You’ve got to be kidding. I wouldn’t cross Lizard Eyes for a million bucks. That dude is poison.”

“So, you just went there to make the deal.”

“And get out ASAP.”

I noticed that Ash was trying not to stare in the direction of the bar and I had a powerful premonition that I probably shouldn’t look to see what she’d found so fascinating. Still, I turned and saw Heather and Colin entwined in an amorous embrace. I knew it was crucial that nobody made them as cops, but their performance seemed to be above and beyond the call of duty. I had to wave my hand in front of Bronsey’s face to get his attention. “Getting back to the Paladin ...”

Bronsey took a noisy sip of booze. “We show up and knock on the door and the little doofus lets us in.”

“Was he worried that Joey was there?”

“Nah, he knew Joey was coming along. I’d told Vandenbosch that I wasn’t going to carry four hundred grand around this freaking town without some extra security.”

“What happened next?”

“We’re in the room and Vandenbosch tells me to give him the bag. I say to him, ‘Whoa, cowboy, let’s see the goods first.’ That’s when he pulls this big teddy bear from like a blue nylon equipment bag.”

Ash seemed to have temporarily forgotten about what was still happening at the bar. She leaned forward a little, now utterly focused on Bronsey’s narrative. Unfortunately, that meant Bronsey felt obligated to study her décolletage in what he erroneously imagined was a discreet manner. It was frustrating. Despite his age and macho man bluster, the guy was like a sex-crazed eleven-year-old boy.

“Merv, stop gawking at my wife’s chest and tell me about the bear.”

Bronsey looked up. “At first I wanted to laugh. Lizard Eyes had paid four hundred grand for
that
? Then Vandenbosch told the bear to turn on.”

“And?”

“The freaking thing comes to life. The eyes light up and the mouth is moving and Vandenbosch is talking back and forth with it.”

If I wanted to continue to pretend I knew nothing about the bear, I had to feign naked skepticism. I said, “Come on, Merv. Don’t yank my chain.”

“I’m not lying. The thing could walk
and
talk. I put the bear on the floor and it walked around a freaking corner and over to Vandenbosch.”

“Yeah, and I suppose it talked to you, too. What did it say? Howdy, Merv, only
you
can prevent forest fires?”

Bronsey was becoming irked. “Look, wise-ass, for starters it was a polar bear, not Smokey, and I talked to it like I would another person. The thing remembered my name. Suddenly, I’m thinking maybe Lizard Eyes is getting a bargain.”

I held up my hands in supplication. “Okay, I believe you. But you’ve got to admit, it sounds pretty implausible.”

Ash patted my knee to surreptitiously thank me for not saying the idea was
fur-fetched
.

“You had to see this thing to believe it, Lyon,” he replied, sounding a little mollified.

“I wish I had. So, obviously you were amazed and moved on to step two: your secret client’s online confirmation test. Is that when things went bad?”

He nodded. “I take the bear over to the phone and get ready to call. Then we all hear someone try to open the motel room’s door. Vandenbosch and I look at each other and I can see he’s thinking that I’ve brought someone else along.”

“But you hadn’t.”

“No. Like I said, it was just me and Joey. I start to tell the geek that I don’t know who’s at the door when, all of a sudden, this other guy jumps out of the bathroom with a gun.” Bronsey mimed a two-handed grip on a handgun. “He’d been hiding there all the time and it turned out that
we
were the suckers. It was a robbery.”

“Tell me about this other guy.”

“Not much I can say. He was wearing a black ski mask and like an old Navy peacoat. He had a big freaking revolver. Maybe a forty-five Long Colt with a six-inch barrel.”

As I knew, it was far more likely that the robber’s gun was a .22 caliber revolver, a much smaller gun. But Bronsey’s misidentification was consistent with the observations made by most other victims of violent crimes. They frequently perceive their assailants and weapons as being much larger than they actually are.

I asked, “What was Kyle doing when this happened?”

“He whips out an auto-pistol, but you can tell he’s so scared that he’s about to crap his pants.”

“What did the gunman say?”

“He never said a word. Vandenbosch did all the talking. He told us to throw our guns on the floor and put the gym bag on the bed.”

“Did you?”

“Joey had the bag and he tossed it on the bed. The guy in the ski mask has the drop on us, so I don’t have a choice.” There was an importuning note in Bronsey’s voice.

“I understand.”

“I start to give my gun up, but then Joey yanks his out and suddenly, I’m in the middle of a freaking firefight. I grabbed the bear and ran.”

“When you bailed, did you see whoever was at the door?”

“No, but I was kind of busy running for my life.”

“So, Joey gets the dirt nap and you escape with the bear. Messy, but still
mission accomplished
. Where is the bear now?”

Bronsey swallowed nervously. “I-I dropped it in the parking lot. There was still gunfire coming from the room. I was so scared. I didn’t have time to pick it up. I just got the hell out of there.”

“And now you’re a lot more than just scared, aren’t you?” I said. “Because you have to find some way to explain to Lizard Eyes that he not only isn’t going to get his amazing robo-bear, but that you also lost his money and potentially got his company connected with a murder.” I tried to keep the sardonic amusement from my voice. “I have a feeling that he isn’t going to be real happy.”

“I know.”

“How did you find out for sure that Joey had been killed?”

“I heard about it on the news radio station later last night,” said Bronsey. “They didn’t give Joey’s name, but they were talking about the police investigating a shootout and murder at the Paladin.”

“I know this is going to sound silly, but did you ever consider coming forward and telling the cops what happened?”

Bronsey gave me a scowling look. “And set myself up for a nice long stay at San Quentin? You know what they do to cops in prison.”

“But all they could charge you with was one count of receiving stolen property. You and I both know that nobody goes to prison for that. So, what are—oh! I get it, now.”

“Get what?” Ash asked.

“He’s worried about going to prison for the murder of Joey Uhlander. Right, Merv?”

Bronsey drained his glass and said nothing.

I rested my chin on my hand. “You lied when you told us that you never fired your gun at the Paladin. How did Joey get shot?”

Perhaps four seconds of silence passed, but it seemed longer. Finally, Bronsey looked down at the tabletop and said, “It was an accident. The dumb son of a bitch thought he was Wyatt Earp or something. He jumped in front of me as I tried to get a round off at the guy in the ski mask.”

“Friendly fire. It happens. Where’d it hit him?”

“In the back, I think. Joey screamed and went down.”

“Then you panicked and ran.”

“Yeah.”

“And when they do Joey’s autopsy, they’re going to find a nine-mil projectile in his back that can be matched to your gun.”

“It was an accident!”

“I believe you. Actually, I have some relatively good news for you.”

Bronsey squinted at me suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

I realized I was taking a big chance by revealing our involvement in the investigation, but we couldn’t afford to let Bronsey vanish. We needed his cooperation as a witness to the murder.