The Ink-Stained Trail - Chapter 14

It was cool that night. It had rained through the afternoon, moisture brought on the tail of a decent north wind. A car pulled up in front of the Guttierez house. A nice car - black, sleek, shiny under the half moon - but just a single car. Four people emerged: three hulking shadows, and one smaller form they fell in step behind as it strode confidently toward the front door. There were lights on inside, two lamps set one each in front of a window. Stepping onto the porch, the lead shadow rapped politely at the door. It swung open, silent as a breathless scream. Now the larger shadows took the lead, entering first, scanning the nearby rooms, then indicating the other could step inside. As she did, a light turned on in the kitchen. They advanced quickly, the larger shadows still in the lead, the smaller not waiting this time, but following at a more sedate speed. By the time Maggie reached the kitchen, I had 3 guns pointed at me. For my part, I sat at the table, sipping some coffee.

"No need for all that fellas, I'm unarmed." I stood slowly, arms away from my body as one of them did a quick frisk. A pretty shoddy frisk. If I had a .38 tucked in my belt, he'd never have known it. Maybe the numbers made him cocky, or maybe he wasn't used to taking prisoners.

"Mr. Curtis, what are you doing here?" Maggie didn't seem pleased to see me, but she didn't look put out, either. I seated myself before answering.

"Waiting. For you, though I wasn't positive you'd handle this personally."

"Handle what? A friendly visit to some friends?" Maggie normally wore that steely gaze, the one that kept her boys in line, but she had a pretty decent innocent waif look in the kit. Like the best trick in a skilled magician's kit bag, it was enough to make you doubt everything you thought you knew about the world. I took a moment to shake off the doubts, then responded, trying to maintain that confidence.

"Don't play stupid, sister. It doesn't suit you. Besides, it's what you have these lunks for. They don't have to play. I'm talking about the guns. The ones you hijacked from the Charlanes. The ones you've been stashing in the basements of these homes they built for their employees." The innocent look vanished, swept away like whisper in the wind. The steel slammed back into place.

"Very well. I won't bother feigning innocence."

"Good. It'd be a waste of everyone's time."

"Where are the Guttierezes?"

"I convinced Hector and Marisol to take their kids to a fair one county over. Best not to be around so many people with itchy trigger fingers." I cast a significant glance at her boys, who certainly looked ready to let the lead fly.

"And how did you know we'd be here tonight? Or were you planning on waiting here every night?"

"You didn't have much choice. This last heist was too big. People got hurt -"

"That wasn't our fault! They refused to lay down their weapons!"

Well. She seemed legitimately bothered by it. Not what I expected, but clearly her boys had caught hell about it already. Old Sean certainly didn't look happy. "You didn't lay down your weapons when people back home told you to, did you? None of you did. That's you had to leave, and you're still fighting. Now don't interrupt."

I might have overreached there. One of the boys looked ready to let his fist have a conversation with my face, but he wouldn't without her order. And Maggie stayed silent. "This last one was too noisy. Thompson and the Charlanes both like having control - which you knew, you'd been relying on it - but they couldn't keep the state out of it now. And those troopers don't live here, don't have to worry about reelection. They can be as nosy as they please. Once you realized what you started, you knew you had to get things moving before they could start snooping for real."

"If you knew the guns were here, why not use them against us? I've looked into your background. You have considerable experience."

"Several reasons. One, that's not how I like to handle things now. Two, I'm not looking to kill you, never have been. Just wanted to get to the bottom of things. Three, I promised Hector and Marisol I wouldn't damage their home. Four, I wasn't expecting so few of you. You split up?"

"As you noted, time is short."

"Question for you:  How'd you convince them to hide all this?"

Maggie smiled thinly, without humor. "They can't expose our thefts without exposing their employers' misdeeds, either directly, or when we talk after our arrests. And if they tried destroying the guns, well, fires are a common occurrence here, as you've no doubt noted."

"So much for not wanting to hurt people."

"There's a difference between not wanting to hurt people, and not being willing or able. You should know that."

I let the jab pass. "Did you come here looking to steal guns. Is the Charlane's kid fighting against you?"

She shook her head. "Nothing like that. Their son is fighting somewhere across the Pacific. Manchuria perhaps, or Indochina. I forget which. As he's fighting an established government, I suppose we're on the same side."

"Which doesn't stop you from raiding supplies meant for his battle."

Maggie leaned against the kitchen counter, and stared out the window as she talked. "I've never considered myself a 'revolutionaries of the world, unite!' sort. I'm hardly a revolutionary at all. I saw injustices at home being let go, and wanted to eradicate them. That's all. I considered it over when I came here. I'd been cast out of my country, could no longer fight for it. I had relatives who moved here generations ago. As I told you before, I thought it would be like home."

"Except the Charlanes stole your relations' land decades ago. And when you learned about the guns, you had the perfect chance to get back at them, and get back in the fight!"

She turned to look at me, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Stole? My relatives' children wanted to try the city, so when their parents passed away, they sold the farm gladly. They used the money to open a car dealership back East. Why would you think it was stolen?"

Oh. Count that as a swing and a miss. Maggie sounded like she was trying not to laugh, like the idea amused her the more she thought about it. The boys just looked annoyed. I tried to get back on topic.

"I have a natural suspicion of successful businessmen, not being one myself."

The laughter was still in her voice. "A curious philosophy. Do you have a natural suspicion of women, since you aren't one?"

"Nah. Them I just don't understand. Businessmen I understand too well."

"Perhaps not. You misjudged me."

"You a businessman?"

"A bit. A person can be many things. You're a poor businessman, and a private detective. John here," she motioned to a tall man with a thin face, and thinner mustache, who stood in the doorway, frequently looking back down the hall, " is an excellent driver, and makes a fine hash."

"If you're a better business man than me, then you know when to cut your losses. Like now, for instance."

"If you're suggesting it's time to leave town, I can't agree. It would raise rather a lot of suspicions."

"Then what are you doing here, if not to grab the loot and split?"

"It's not time to depart, but it is advisable to get the shipment away from here. We gather them, send them out with a few of the boys, and keep the rest moving about the town in plain sight."

"And the way your boys are always moving around town, nobody will be able tell a few are missing. Definitely a smart plan, as long as nobody knows about it. Unfortunately for you, they do. I told Sheriff Thompson everything this afternoon. He's real eager to round you up. Said something about a 'hound dog after bacon on the floor', whatever that means." The boys all tensed, but Maggie didn't flinch.

"I doubt the good sheriff would take your word for it. As much as I enjoy these conversations, time is still something of a factor." Her eyes went off to my right, and I saw Sean advance from that direction, reversing the grip on his pistol. I laughed loudly (partially from relief she wasn't planning to kill me), and Sean stopped with his arm raised.

"You're right. I didn't go to Thompson. I went to Charlie Washington. I don't know what he did with the information. He might have passed it on to Thompson. I think you'll agree the 'good sheriff' would listen to his business partner."

All the boys were sporting troubled looks, and at least one was shooting glances towards the front door, ready to bolt. Just a little more of a push, then. I drew a cigarette, struck a match off my shoe (didn't want to mark Marisol's table), and lit the cig. No ashtrays in the house, I used my empty coffee mug.

"No guarantee he did that, of course. The Raccoons were Charlie's old group. They might not appreciate having all this laid at their doorstep. Since the troopers know Charlie used to be in the group, he won't appreciate the interest they'll take in his business. You can imagine they'll be less. . . polite, than Thompson.

"Do you expect me to panic, run screaming into the night like a helpless child?" For the first time in this conversation there was real anger in Maggie's voice.

"No, I expect you to recognize that it'll be easier to escape if you can scatter, than if you have to stick together around a convoy full of guns and bullets. I expect you to realize using the guns and bullets to defend yourself would just draw more attention, since shooting is what's brought us to this point. And I expect you to recognize when to cut bait!"

I cast a glance over the room. Two of the boys, John and Michael, the young guy who helped push my car that night out there on the road, looked ready to bolt. Sean just looked ready to kill me. Maggie was watching me intently, like there were scribbled answers on my face she was struggling to translate. Tough luck sister, no answers there. I oughta know. I'm the one who has to look at it every morning in the mirror.

Maggie came to the same conclusion. Now it was a question of whether she'd take the time to kill me for spite. She sighed. "It's always lonely men . . . Let's go boys."

"What about him?" Sean sounded excited, but was bound for disappointment. Maggie shook her head once, sharply.

"We haven't killed anyone here yet. Let's not break that streak." Sean glowered at Maggie, a big, sulky kid who wanted a sucker but was told he couldn't have it. Even so, Maggie turned her back, completely dismissing his challenge. If he wanted to stay for revenge, fine, but he'd have to walk for freedom. Sean was stupid, but not that stupid. He fell in line as she stepped quick, but light out of the house.

I exhaled softly. Brother, was she good. I wondered who drove her out of her home? Her enemy, who couldn't kill her, or her own, who couldn't control her? Not my concern. My cigarette had burned down during all the shouting. I snuffed it and carried the mug to the sink to wash the ash and coffee out of it.

I promised I'd keep the place tidy.

Using the pump almost drowned out the police sirens as Thompson came tearing down the drive. Guess I stalled things long enough for him to wrap things up at the other houses. There was a crash.

I dried the bowl, set it aside, and walked to the front of the house. Turns out John wasn't a good enough driver. He'd plowed into a car coming up the lane. Thompson had been cagey enough to avoid it, as he stepped from a car that had swerved off into the grass. Sean emerged from the wrecked sedan, one hand to his head, the other holding that pistol. I saw a thin arm lunge from the back seat, and I think I heard Maggie yell once to put it down. But Sean had been itching to shoot someone, and she was too far away. Thompson didn't hesitate, and he was shielded from Sean by his car, and the glare of the other vehicles' headlights. It ended quickly.

Thompson eyed me as I strolled out, coat over my shoulder. "The way they was tearing outta here, I figured you for a dead man."

"Dead man wouldn't want a drink as bad as I do."

"Cain't help you there. Lotta work to do."

"I take it you listened to Charlie."

"Yep. These are the last of them. You could have approached me yourself."

"Got the impression my presence wasn't appreciated. Mother taught me not to go where I'm not welcome."

"I'd say she needed to teach you a little harder."

"Just a slow learner, is all."

Thompson turned to watch as Maggie and the last of her boys were loaded into a paddy wagon (just a modified truck, was all), a satisfied smile on his face. John didn't survive the crash. "At least this group put up less of a fuss. The others all tried running for the basements when we came in. Reckon that's where they hid the guns, but nothing was there but some empty boxes and a few scattered rifles. Know anything about that?"

I had visited Charlie a little after 10 that morning, before telling each family to step out of town for the evening. "When did Charlie call you?"

Thompson glanced over at me. "3 o'clock. Next time you want to tip off the police, try giving more advance warning."

I'm guessing Charlie called a few friends back on the coast. I wondered if he'd really been ousted from his old group. I wondered if Maggie was the only one who'd gotten wind of the gun-running. "Sorry. Forgot to account for how slow you cops are out here in the wilderness."

Thompson's grin disappeared, vanishing behind that curtain of a mustache. I turned and ambled behind the house to check on my car. She better start up, I wasn't likely to get a jump from anyone out front now. I'd solved a case nobody hired me for. I got paid nothing. Just a lousy businessman, I suppose, giving it away for free.

In the front seat of my car, there was an envelope, a paw print stamped on it. Inside, a wad of bills, adding up to a couple of G's. There was a note, too: "Finder's Fee". I turned the key, her engine caught right off. I couldn't think of a better sign that it was time to go back to the city.

Country life is too complicated.