“Turn around and let him see you.”
A truck roaring shook the car with a blast of wind. Tony turned around. The man in his soft white baseball uniform with CHEVROLET on the front, the face under the beak of his cap. The eyes looking out at him, the small mouth with the teeth too large. What he remembered but not quite like this.
“Who’s this guy?” Ray said.
“You don’t remember him?”
“Can’t say as I do.”
He was chewing, a barely visible motion of the jaw, while he stared at Tony, wary, unrecognizing. Tony saw everything, the bulge of his eyes, the red beads in their corners, the little red veins in the eyewhites, as well as nose, nostrils, hair in nostrils, the crookedness of the two front teeth, one protruding, chipped—looking at him, waiting for him.
“You remember him, Tony?”
“Yes.”
“Refresh his memory.”
“I remember you,” Tony said.
“Tell him where it was.”
“Last summer, on the Interstate, near the Bear Valley exit.”
Ray’s eyes looking at him, staring, waiting.
“Tell him what you remember he did.”
Looking at Ray’s eyes, Tony did not know if he could say it. He tried. “You killed my wife and daughter.” He was conscious of the tremor in his voice, like a lie.
He saw the slight widening of the man’s large eyes, the chewing quietly stop, no other change. “You’re crazy man. I never killed nobody.”
“Tell him the whole thing.”
“You and your buddies on the Interstate. You forced us off the road.” The audible rasp in his voice, the quaver of being forced to speak.
“Tell him who his buddies were.”
“Lou and Turk.”
“Remember that, Ray? Remember horsing around on the Interstate, playing chicken with other cars?”
Ray’s voice very soft. “You’re crazy man.”
“You made us stop and we had a flat tire. Lou and Turk fixed it. Then you and Turk got into my car with my wife and daughter and forced me into your car with Lou.”
“What then, Tony?”
“Lou took me up in the woods and kicked me out. I had to walk back.” Thinking the man’s enjoyment of humiliating me, and does he enjoy a second time behind his careful locked mask hearing me confess it now?
Voice stronger now, asserting things, turning humiliation into vengeance. “Then you came back to the woods in my car. You called and tried to lure me into a trap. You went onto where Lou had left me. When you came out later you tried to kill me with my car.”
“What did you go back there for, Ray?”
“You’re crazy man.”
“Tell him what we found there, Tony.”
“You tell him.”
“Do I need to? You know, don’t you, Ray?”
“You’re crazy man. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“The bodies of my wife and child, which you took back there and dumped.”
Image of the two white mannequins followed by the two wrapped cocoons, bringing back a sudden memory of old grief, clouding Tony Hastings’s eyes with wetness which the man could see. He noticed, it must have touched his lust through the mask, and for one moment Tony saw a smile, not much but enough, the same smile he had seen last summer, sadistic and contemptuous then—just enough to ignite Tony’s almost forgotten rage and blast pity out of mind. The mask was back again but too late for Ray.
“You’re the one,” Tony said. “I know you.”
“Whaddaya say, Ray?”
“You’re crazy man.”
“Okay, let’s go to Grant Center. I think I’ll book you.”
“You’re making a mistake, man.”
“I don’t think so, Ray.”
Driving to Grant Center, Tony Hastings did not look back. He bit his lip, a childhood habit to hold together the organization of his nerves. He was full of angry joy, and he drove fast.
EIGHT
Susan Morrow reads on, no pause here, elated by this capture of Ray, looking forward to what will come. Feeling good, she would like the enjoyment of a good fictitious rage.
Nocturnal Animals 19
Thinking into Ray. The man locked surly in a cell across the street, Tony Hastings not sleeping in the cold motel, full of the words behind Ray’s dirty little smile. Drawing them out: I remember you. You’re the fella let us drive off with your womenfolks. If you can’t take care of them better than that.
He went back to the police station in the morning, had breakfast in the cafeteria with Bobby Andes. Andes’s eyes were blood-streaked, the deep grooves in his face pulled the skin back from his teeth, fury and frustration had cut deep around his eyes and nose. He carried the tray like an old man, with a limp Tony had not noticed before. His skin looked like tarnish.
“Shit,” he said.
“What?”
“I said fuck.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
He leaned over his scrambled eggs, shoving in with his hand what spilled from his mouth. When he got to his third cup of coffee, he leaned back in the plastic chair.
“Now,” he said. “I want to take your friend Ray on a little memory-jogging tour. I want you to come too.”
“Where to?”
“The sightseeing spots in Bear Valley.”
He felt some dread. “You need me?”
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“It might do him good.”
Tony Hastings guessed Bobby Andes had some other purpose too, but could not think what it might be.
The guard with his pistol, whistle, and keys unlocked the steel outer doors and cell door and brought out Ray Marcus, wearing green army fatigues, no hat, his baseball uniform gone. He had the bald forehead Tony Hastings remembered.
“You again,” he said.
“We’re taking you for a little ride.”
They went to the big tri-colored police car with bulbs on top and a painted shield on the side. The policeman Tony remembered as George got into the driver’s seat with Tony beside him, while Bobby and Ray got in back.
“Where are we going?”
“Sightseeing.”
Ray looked at Tony. “Why’s he coming?”
“He’s got an interest in this case.”
“I don’t want him. You can’t bring him.”
“What’s the matter, Ray? I can bring anyone I like.”
“You can’t bring him. He’s prejudice. He tells lies.”
“Sorry Ray, there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’ll lose your case that way.”
“So much the better for you, eh Ray?”
George driving, they came out to the main valley road and headed back whence they had come yesterday. Andes said: “Speaking of rights, Ray, I want you to know I got a tape in this car. It’s hearing me tell you this.”
“Great.”
“We’re going back to some places you may remember. You can help by telling about them. If you don’t remember, Tony does.”
In the front seat, Tony leaned against the side and watched Ray and Bobby in the back. Ray was clicking his tongue like a school teacher, shaking his head how immoral this was.
“If you think I can tell you something about who killed this guy’s wife and brother, you’re wasting your time.”
“Brother, Ray?”
“Whatever it was.”
“Daughter, Ray, daughter. How could you confuse a daughter with a brother?”
“How the hell should I know what it was?”
“That’s not as clever as you think, Ray. In fact it’s dumb and I’m ashamed of you. Why, it’s good as a confession.”
Ray holding himself in, eyes looking around. “Whaddaya mean, good as a confession? What are you talking about?”
“It’s stupid, Ray. It’s stupid to make out you’re dumber than you are.”