She was bigger than he. She wore a sweater and slacks, and had a tired face. She was probably in her forties and might be a schoolteacher.
“Lucy brought me.”
“Shit.”
Ray noticed Tony. “Hey, what’s this guy doing here?”
The room had a table in the middle, a cot, a few old chairs. There was an alcove with a stove and sink, and there was a screen door to the back and an open door to a bedroom. Ray’s handcuffs glittered in the light that hung from the beam. He sat on the cot.
The two policemen left. Tony heard their car going off. Bobby introduced the woman to Tony. “This is Ingrid Hale,” he said.
“How do do, Ingrid,” Ray said.
Ingrid’s look at Tony was curious. “So you’re Mr. Hastings,” she said. “You have my sympathy.”
“Do I have your sympathy too?” Ray said.
“Shut up,” Bobby Andes said. “You might have told me,” he said to Ingrid.
“How was I to know? What are you doing out here anyway?” Like it embarrassed her to have a fight in front of strangers.
“Police work,” Bobby said. “I want to do some fucking police work, for Christ sakes.”
“Here? Since when do you do your police work here, Bobby?”
He was standing there white faced, as if astonished by some inner message. “Jesus, I’m sick,” he said. He thrust the gun at Ingrid. “Here, hold this.”
“What?” She juggled it like fire. “Don’t give me this.” She gave it back.
He thrust it at Tony. “Use it,” he said. “Shoot him. I’ll be right back.” Tony looked at it, heavy in his hands, wondering how it worked. Bobby went out back. They could hear him throwing up outside the screen door. Ray sniggered.
“Do you know how to use that thing?” he said.
Bobby Andes stayed out quite a while, and there were more noises. “Jesus Christ,” Ray said.
When Bobby Andes came back, Ray said, “This ain’t legal. If this was legal you’d of taken me to Grant Center, not this fucking place.”
Bobby took the gun from Tony and cocked it. “It’s all the legal we need,” he said.
“You’ll pay.”
Tony heard Ingrid Hale clicking her tongue.
“You lied to me,” Ray said. “There ain’t no new evidence. Why don’t you take me to Grant Center if you got new evidence?”
Bobby Andes was studying the gun.
“I like it better here. More relaxed.”
“Seems to me you tried this trick already. If you think this guy’s going to break me down, you already seen that don’t work.”
“Bobby,” Ingrid said.
“Okay, you’re here, you’re here,” he said to her. “You ain’t gonna like what you see, but I can’t change my plans on account of you.” Tony heard something boastful in the speech, like, Now you’ll see what police work is really like.
“Maybe I should go to bed.”
“Maybe that’s what you should do. Hey Ray,” he said. “What was you doing up Cargill Mountain this afternoon?”
“I knew you was tailing me.”
“You got a shack up there, some gal Leila don’t know about?”
No words out of Ray.
“Won’t tell? Doesn’t matter. I really don’t care, Ray.”
“Then what are you asking for?”
“Pass the time, Ray.”
“What for? You waiting for something?”
“Time for you to think a little. You need time to make big decisions. When your whole goddamn life hangs in the balance.”
“There’s nothing to think about, man. My mind’s clean.”
“Say, listen to that. What would you say, Ray, if your pal Lou Bates implicated you in the Hastings murders?”
Ray took a moment.
“Who?”
“Come on, Ray, don’t try that. Your only friend in the world, you know Lou Bates.”
“I got friends, you sonofabitch.”
“Sure you do, boy, you got lots of friends. What if they implicated you? What if Lou Bates confessed? You and Turk Adams and him, the whole story.”
Ray sat there, thinking.
“He’s lying.”
“I don’t think so. Why would he lie to implicate himself?”
Ray looking around the room.
“You’re lying,” he said. “If Lou had done that you would of taken me to Grant Center.”
“We’ll get you to Grant Center, don’t worry. Like a beer?”
“Is it poisoned?”
Bobby Andes laughed. He nodded to Ingrid Hale. “Get us a beer, girl.” She went to the back and brought out a six-pack. She gave beers to the three men and took one for herself. Bobby Andes opened his but did not drink. Ray drank his bringing both handcuffed hands up to his mouth. Bobby said to Ingrid, “Now maybe you can help Tony guard our pal here while I make a call.”
She was alarmed. So was Tony. “What sort of call?”
“Police work, right? What I gotta do. You watch him and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Watch him? Bobby? How?”
“Tony will guard him, won’t you, Tony? Take this gun. Here, I’ll show you how it works.”
They went into the alcove and turned their backs to conceal the demonstration from Ray, who sat smirking on the cot. Tony didn’t want to admit how scared he was. Miserable, Ingrid asked Tony, “Can you use it?”
“I can try,” he said.
“You must think I’m a pretty dangerous guy,” Ray said.
“You’re not dangerous, crumb,” Bobby said. “You’re a cockroach. Pest control. A little exercise in pest control.”
“Don’t leave us, Bobby,” Ingrid said.
“Relax,” Bobby said. “It’s only five minutes. You want we should tie him down? Would that make you feel better?” He looked at Ray. “Okay crumb, looks like we better fasten you to something.” He looked around. “Frame on that cot,” he said. “Here Tony, take the key and unlock one of them cuffs, hook him to the bed frame.”
Bobby Andes went around to the side of the cot, pointing the gun at Ray to cover Tony. Tony felt nervous getting so close to Ray, who was grinning, the vicious grin he remembered, and Tony could smell the onion on his breath. He was clumsy unlocking the cuff on Ray’s left hand, and his hands trembled. He pulled the handcuffs down close to the bed frame, requiring Ray to bend forward. He was afraid Ray might attack and had to remind himself Bobby Andes was protecting him with the gun.
“Christ you guys,” Ray yelled. “You can’t make me sit like this.” He was doubled over.
“Sit on the floor,” Andes said.
“Shit.” He dropped down with his back to the cot, and Tony locked the handcuff to the frame. “How can I drink my beer?”
“Use your free hand.”
Bobby stood back and looked at him like a painting. “That make you feel safer?” he said. She looked at him pleadingly. “Okay,” Bobby said. “We’ll make you safer still. Tony, go out to my car and get the leg irons.”
So they put on the leg irons, and then Ray was sitting on the floor with one hand raised and attached to the cot next to his shoulder, his two feet linked together, and one hand free for his beer can, which he kept sipping from.
“That’s cruel,” Ingrid said.
“Yeah, it’s cruel,” Ray said.
“You want to be cruel or safe?” Bobby said. “I’ll be back in five minutes. If you have to use the gun, use it.” He went out, and they heard the car turn around and drive down the road.
Suddenly it was quiet, as if Bobby had taken away the noise. The gun was heavy in Tony’s lap. He looked at Ray shackled and stretched out on the floor by the cot. He kept one hand on the barrel, the other ready remembering the motions necessary to release the safety and cock it. He thought, My God, I am sitting here with a gun in my lap. I am holding a man prisoner, my own enemy who has tortured me for a year. It’s good he’s shackled, for otherwise I would have to depend on the threat of this gun, which I have never used.