Outsourced

16

Shrini drove while Dan lay slumped over in the backseat. Both of them had taken their overalls off. Dan had also taken off his wig and had been able to remove the mustache and sideburns using the solution Gordon had left him, but he didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing him until he had the rest of the makeup off.

Shrini was fuming, too furious to talk. Every few minutes he’d punch at the wheel and let loose with a string of curse words, both in English and Hindi. That seemed to go on for about forty minutes. Then, after some quiet, he told Dan in a tight angry voice, “If your friend thinks I am going to go quietly back to India, he’s in for a very big surprise, believe me.”

“Joel just needs to cool off. When he does, he’ll give us our share,” Dan said, his own voice sounding brittle and odd to him. He still had this strange sensation that he was only a spectator to what was going on around him, almost as if he were watching everything from outside his body.

“No, I don’t think so. I believe this is what your friend intended from the beginning.”

“Come on, Shrini. He went over the top because of what happened with Gordon. He’ll cool off.”

“Come on yourself, dude! Why do you think he demanded his pig-friend be included?” Shrini’s voice choked off. Dan could see from the reflection in the rearview mirror that Shrini’s dark eyes were simmering with fury. “Believe me,” Shrini continued when he could. “I am going to receive my share from that little peacock friend of yours, and after I do I am going to kick his ass all over the place.”

Dan lowered his head back on to the seat and closed his eyes. As enraged as Shrini was, he himself felt nothing but a gnawing anxiety in his gut. He couldn’t blame Joel for what he’d done; after all, he was the one who had promised that Gordon would behave himself during the bank robbery. Joel was right, he had a price to pay for what happened, although he still couldn’t comprehend Gordon shooting those two women. It just made no sense to him.

“What was it with that Gunga Din talk?” Shrini demanded. “Was that supposed to be some sort of racist insult?”

“He was just trying to get under your skin. Try to calm down, okay? If we give Joel a couple of days to cool off, he’ll come to his senses.”

“I don’t want to give your friend any days. I say we buy two rifles and wait outside his house and welcome him the same as he did to us. Then we take the money and split it between us.”

“What are you saying? You want us to ambush him? Kill him?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Shrini, please, man, calm down. We’re not killers.”

“I hate to break it to you, dude, but we are. Once Gordon killed that girl we became killers.”

“How could we have expected Gordon to do that?”

“It doesn’t matter; if we get caught we will all be treated as killers. That’s the law.”

“We’re not going to get caught,” Dan stated stubbornly, but he wasn’t so sure whether he believed it himself. Joel shooting Gordon changed everything. He hadn’t been able to think it through enough to understand the ramifications of what Joel had done. Every time he tried, his mind just seemed to shut down on him.

“I still say we buy two rifles,” Shrini insisted, his tone now more petulant than angry.

“If we did, we’d probably be the ones getting our heads blown off. Joel is one paranoid son of a bitch. He’d probably smell that we were out there. Let’s just give him some time and things will work out.”

Shrini started to argue, but instead punched the steering wheel one last time. They were only a mile from Gordon’s condominium complex. When Joel had ordered Dan to take Gordon’s car keys, Dan realized then that he had better take Gordon’s wallet also. Now that the police were going to find Gordon’s body, he had to make sure that there was nothing in Gordon’s apartment linking him to the robbery. He just had to hope that there was no other identification on Gordon, at least nothing that would lead the police to his apartment within the next hour or so.

Shrini pulled into the complex and parked in one of the visitor spots. The two of them looked at each other, and Dan took a deep breath as he nodded. There was a risk someone would see them going into Gordon’s apartment, but they had no other choice. They moved quickly, Shrini keeping about thirty yards behind Dan as they walked across a courtyard to a side door. Dan looked up briefly and didn’t spot anyone. When he got to the side door, he fumbled with the keys for what seemed like an eternity before opening it. He kept the door open long enough so that Shrini would be able to follow him, then went straight to Gordon’s apartment, this time opening the door almost without breaking stride. Once he got inside he leaned against the hallway wall, his heart pounding in his chest. Shrini followed seconds later.

“You think anyone saw us?” Dan asked, breathless.

“Relax, dude. It’s three twenty-five. No one’s around.”

Dan held his stomach as he caught his breath. “Okay,” he said, “I need to get this makeup off. While I’m doing that, check Gordon’s computer and get rid of any pictures of Lombardo. Also, get rid of his anonymous email account.”

“Any other orders you wish to give me?”

“Come on, man, we don’t have time to get pissed at each other right now.”

Shrini pointed his finger at Dan, his mouth poised to spit out something, but instead he swallowed back whatever he was planning on saying. Shaking his head, he sat over by the computer and turned it on. Dan watched for a moment, immobilized by a deep sense of dread. It seemed to take every bit of strength he had to force himself to walk towards the bathroom. When he got there and saw his reflection in the mirror, he broke out laughing. With the wig and facial hair removed, he looked like some sort of weird hybrid of himself and Raymond Lombardo.

Getting the rubber compound off was harder than he would’ve thought. The damn stuff just didn’t want to come off. He kept scrubbing with the solution Gordon had given him, but it didn’t seem to do any good. He ended up having to chip the stuff off with a nail file. When he was finally done, he saw that the compound had left a dark reddish discoloration around his jawbone, chin and nose.

Goddamn it, Dan thought, what else you got for me? Frogs, locusts, boils? Bring it on, asshole.

He stood staring at himself in the mirror and then, resigned to the situation, joined Shrini in the other room. Shrini’s head cocked to one side as he noticed Dan.

“You got a bad rash on your face.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It looks like it’s where the makeup was. I don’t think this is good.”

“I agree. Any suggestions?”

“This is not working out.” Shrini sat staring at Dan for a long moment as he shook his head. “I could try buying medication from a pharmacy,” he said. “Maybe if you spend the night on my sofa your rash will be gone by tomorrow.”

“I don’t think I could do that, but we can talk about this later. Right now I better search the apartment and make sure there’s nothing here that can connect Gordon to the robbery. How are you doing with his computer?”

Shrini shrugged. “I’m doing Gordon a favor and also getting rid of all the porn. Believe me, there’s a lot of it. I’m almost done.”

“Okay, I’ll probably need ten minutes.”

Dan found a garbage bag in the kitchen and made a quick search of the apartment. Aside from the rubber compound and pieces of a wig that Gordon had used to make up the facial hair, the only other incriminating evidence Dan found were some printed photos of Lombardo. He also found a roll of hundred-dollar bills hidden in a dresser drawer. He counted four thousand two hundred dollars. He hesitated on what to do with the money, then slipped it into his pocket. When he joined Shrini, he showed him the roll of bills.

“You can have half of it, buddy,” he told Shrini.

Shrini considered it, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. It would make me feel too much like a grave robber. I will just be satisfied with my share of the robbery. And trust me, I am going to get it.”

Dan nodded, understanding Shrini’s feelings. “Are you ready to leave?”

“I’ve been ready for five minutes.”

Dan wiped off the keyboard and mouse and then rolled the garbage bag up under his arm. He opened the door, made sure that the hallway was empty, and signaled for Shrini to leave. Then, stepping out himself, he locked the door behind him and tried to appear calm as he walked out of the building. By the time he got to Shrini’s Civic, he was sweating like crazy and could hear the blood pounding in his head. He just about collapsed into the passenger seat.

“Breathe, okay?” Shrini said. “The last thing I need now is for you to drop dead in my car.”

“Thanks for your concern.”

They drove in silence after that. Dan tried to think through what had happened during and after the robbery, but just felt too exhausted. He had to close his eyes. As his consciousness started drifting away, Shrini’s voice woke him.

“I am going to get my money from your friend,” he stated.

“We both will.”

“I want us to see him tomorrow.”

“Shrini, trust me on this, we’re better off giving him a few days.”

“I will give him two days at the most. That’s all.” His face darkened with anger as he thought over the events. “Believe me, I will not forget the two of them pointing guns at us.”

Dan nodded. He tried to keep his eyes open, but his lids were just too damn heavy. Again, Shrini’s voice woke him.

“I wasn’t going to abandon you,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dan muttered, not quite sure what Shrini was talking about.

“I mean it. When I asked your friend for my share, I was planning to split with you whatever he gave me.”

Dan just stared straight ahead. After another couple of minutes of silence, Shrini asked Dan what he was going to do about his rash. “I think it looks worse now,” he said.

“I don’t know. I guess as long as the police believe Lombardo’s involved, this rash doesn’t much matter.”

Shrini pulled into his apartment complex. After parking, he asked if Dan wanted to come up and help him finish off the rest of the tequila. “We should have a drink in Gordon’s memory,” he said.

Dan thought about it and shook his head. “Carol’s waiting for me.”

“I’ll have to finish the bottle off myself then.” Shrini’s face grew somber as he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts. Snapping out of it, he looked at Dan. “I’ll see you in two days,” he said.

Dan nodded and left the car.

“Money, it’s a gas. Grab all you can and smoke some hash.”

“Will you shut the fuck up!”

Hoffer, a big grin plastered across his face, asked, “What’s your problem? You don’t like my singing?”

Joel grimaced, slowly rubbing both his temples, holding the steering wheel in place with his elbows. “You’re fucking tone deaf, that’s my problem.”

“Money, it’s a hit. Just don’t light up any of that bad shit.”

“I told you to shut up.” Joel took a sideways glance at Hoffer. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

Hoffer could barely contain himself as he rocked back and forth in his seat. “You’re just jealous, man.”

“Fuck you. Not only is your croaking giving me a headache but you’re screwing up the lyrics, you asshole. You’re fucking ruining Pink Floyd for me.”

Hoffer smacked his fist several times into an open palm. “I am so jacked right now,” he said. “Fuck, I wish I had some good weed on me.”

“Yeah, that would be just brilliant. Why don’t I flag down the first cop I see and beg him to search my car? Asshole.”

“Shit, you worry too much. Let’s do something, man. We got guns and ski masks. First gas station we see, man. We can grab some more cash and watch some asshole shit bricks staring down a couple of AK-47s.”

Joel gave him a slow cold stare, his upper lip twisting into a sneer.

“Why don’t you go back to butchering Pink Floyd,” he said. “It would be better than listening to these brilliant ideas of yours.”

Hoffer flipped him the bird and held it steady until Joel took a swipe at his outstretched finger.

“I don’t understand you, Joel. We did it, man. We robbed that bank. We got away with it and we have all the money. Why are you sitting there sulking?”

“In case you didn’t notice I killed someone,” Joel muttered half under his breath.

“I couldn’t hear you, man. What did you say?”

“I said I fucking killed someone! You say another word, make another sound, and I’m putting you out of the car. I mean it!”

Hoffer was about to start drumming on the car’s dashboard, but the look Joel gave him made him pull his hands back. After only a few minutes of quiet, Joel screwed up his face, looking like he’d been punched in the gut. “Why would he have to shoot those two women?”

“Because he was a wacko.”

“Do you know what he was even saying to that girl?”

“Not a clue.”

“She should’ve known better.” Joel shook his head, his upper lip separating from his teeth as he grimaced. “You don’t give someone lip who’s holding a gun on you. I don’t care what the loon might be saying to you.”

“Maybe she was pissed.”

“And why would that be?”

“I dunno. Maybe she thought he was the one who grabbed her ass.”

Joel’s color paled as he looked at Hoffer. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Hoffer’s wide stupid grin came back. “She had a sweet ass, man. Like two big juicy peaches wrapped tight together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So I couldn’t help myself. I took two big handfuls when I had my chance.”

“You really are an idiot.”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know that wack job was going to start hitting on her? Boy, though, she really let him have it. And shit, he really let her have it.”

Joel sat straight in his seat, his eyelids falling while he studied Hoffer. “Tell me again how you ended up getting arrested.”

“What for? I told you about that years ago.”

“I want to hear it again.”

Hoffer’s tongue wetted his lips while he thought about it. “There’s nothing really to say. I had too much to drink and was taking a leak in an alley when some high-strung little princess saw me and started yelling rape. That’s all it was, man.”

“That’s not what you told me before.”

“No?”

“No. What you told me was that you had a hooker in your car and she yelled rape when a cruiser pulled up.”

Hoffer’s eyes turned dull as he nodded. “Yeah, that’s the way it could’ve been.”

“You son of a bitch. You’ve been lying to me all these years. So you did try to rape some girl.”

“What difference does that make now? We got two bags of money in the trunk, one for you and one for me. That’s all that matters now.”

“What do you mean one for you and one for me?”

“We’re splitting the money. That’s what I mean.”

“Fuck you we’re splitting the money. You’re getting twenty percent.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so? That was the deal, asshole.”

“The deal changed when you killed that wack job and cut out the Chief and his little Indian.”

“Says who?”

“Fair is fair.” Hoffer crossed his arms, his small pale eyes as hard as stone. “One way or another I’m getting half that money.”

As Joel looked at Hoffer, his car drifted over the center line and he had to swerve to avoid a head-on collision with a pickup truck. The driver of the pickup, red-faced and eyes bulging, blasted his horn and yelled bloody murder. Joel gave the driver a cold stare before turning straight ahead, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“You want to rip me off and go back on our deal, fine,” he forced out, his voice barely a whisper. “We’ll split the money, asshole.”

“You’re giving me your word then? Fifty-fifty?”

“Isn’t that what I just did?”

“Man, just say it.”

“Fine. You have my word. We split the money. Anything else you want to extort out of me?”

Hoffer pumped a fist in the air. “Man, it’s only right that we do this. So we’ll divide it up when we get to your place.”

“Fuck you we will. Neither of us are touching that money until it’s been cooled off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can be connected to Gordon. Which means there’s a chance the cops will come to me looking for that money.”

“So we’ll stash it at my place.”

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you? If the cops can connect me to Gordon, they can connect you to me. I got twenty acres. We’ll bury the money on my property.”

Hoffer’s wide face seemed to shrink as he thought over what Joel was suggesting. “I have a better idea. You hide one bag, I’ll find a safe place for the other.”

“Sorry, pal, this is too important. I’m not betting my life on you not doing something stupid.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is-”

“I already told you, and besides, I gave you my word. That’s not good enough for you?”

Grudgingly, Hoffer accepted that it was.

“You’ve known me, what, fifteen years? Have you ever known me to go back on my word?”

“Okay, already, it’s good enough for me.”

Joel gave Hoffer a hard stare before facing straight ahead. When they arrived at his house, he had Hoffer take the duffel bags while he went to get two shovels. When he returned, Hoffer had one of the bags open.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I need some money, man. I’m just taking a thousand bucks.”

“Show me what you got.”

Hoffer held up ten hundred-dollar bills. Joel made a face, but nodded. “Fine,” he said. “Put that money away and grab those bags.”

Hoffer shoved the bills into his pockets. They walked behind Joel’s house to a small clearing of grass. Beyond that were acres of woods. As they made their way through the woods, Hoffer spotted a forty-five caliber pistol sticking out of Joel’s waistband.

“Why are you bringing that?” he asked.

“For Chrissakes, use your brains. This is the gun I shot Gordon with. Why do you think I’m bringing it?”

Hoffer’s tongue licked his lips as he stared at the gun. “I dunno,” he said.

“’Cause I need to bury this also, you putz.”

“That’s all?” Hoffer asked, his eyes jerking nervously from the gun to Joel’s face.

“Yeah, what the hell else do you think I’m going to do with it?”

“You gave me your word before.”

“I know I did. What’s your point?”

Hoffer shook his head as he thought about it. “Never mind,” he said.

They walked another ten minutes before Joel decided that they had gone far enough. “We’ll bury the bags near that boulder,” he said.

There was an empty clearing about twenty feet from the boulder Joel had pointed out. The two of them went to work. When the hole got to three feet deep, Hoffer, sweating like a pig, dropped his shovel.

“That should be deep enough,” he said.

“I don’t think so. If we get a heavy rain it will seep into these bags. We need to make this deeper.”

“You make it deeper then, I’m done.”

Hoffer started to climb out of the hole. He had one leg out when Joel grabbed him from behind and swung him down so he landed hard on his side. The fall knocked the wind out of him. When he opened his eyes he saw that Joel was pointing the forty-five at him. Backing up, Joel scrambled out of the hole.

“You gave me your word,” Hoffer said, his voice trembling.

“And I’m going to keep it,” Joel said. “But I told you we need that hole deeper.”

Hoffer slowly got to his feet.

“You better start digging.”

Hoffer picked up the shovel and started digging. As he dug, his knees buckled on him. At one point he fell to one knee.

“Just keep digging.”

“Joel, forget the split. All I need is twenty percent.”

“I said keep digging.”

“I said I’ll take twenty percent.”

“And I said keep digging.”

Looking up, Hoffer burst into tears. “You gave me your word!” he cried.

“And I plan to keep my word. You should know me well enough to know that.”

“You’re going to kill me!”

“I told you, I’m going to keep my word.”

Bleary-eyed and sobbing, Hoffer forced himself back to his feet. His arms shook as he lifted and dumped out each shovel full of dirt. When the hole got past four feet deep, Joel told him that was enough.

“Put down the shovel,” Joel said as he aimed the gun at Hoffer’s chest.

“You gave me your word!” Hoffer screamed.

“And if you were still alive when we split the money, you’d get half,” Joel told him in a flat tone. He shot Hoffer in the chest, the impact knocking Hoffer off his feet and on to his back.

Hoffer, dazed, touched his chest and then watched the blood drip from his fingers. He looked up at Joel. “We’ve known each other for fifteen years,” he implored.

“I knew Gordon longer than that,” Joel said as he fired three more shots into Hoffer’s body. At first Hoffer lay still, then he started moving feebly as he tried to push himself into a sitting position. Cursing that he didn’t bring another magazine with him, Joel tossed the empty gun into the hole. He grabbed a shovel and started to fill the hole up. Even after he had Hoffer’s body covered with a foot of dirt, the guy was still trying to push himself up. It was almost as if a wave was rolling through the loose dirt. Hoffer’s body didn’t seem to come to rest until the hole was completely filled and the ground packed hard.

Joel stood and watched for a long ten count, waiting to see if anything would upset the stillness. His plan was to later plant raspberry bushes over Hoffer’s grave. After wiping his brow, he grabbed the two duffel bags and headed back to his house.

Alex Resnick tracked Petrenko to a small Russian restaurant on Essex Street. Petrenko was sitting at a table with three other men, in front of him a bottle of Cristall vodka in an ice bucket and a platter of caviar. All four men were drinking. Petrenko looked amused as Resnick approached his table.

“Detective, I would offer for you to join us, but our table is too crowded as it is.”

“I didn’t come here to drink with you.”

“No? A pity. This vodka is quite nice. Of course, it is also chilled to the right temperature, something you Americans always fail to do. Add a few of these lingonberries and you have something close to extraordinary.”

The three other men at the table were all smiling, amused. Resnick said, “Yeah, well, I prefer bourbon anyway.”

Petrenko made a comment in Russian, eliciting some laughs from his companions. Turning back to Resnick, he smiled thinly. “You should learn to broaden your horizons. Here, at least try some of this. Beluga Malossol, the finest caviar you will ever find.”

Petrenko had spooned a small amount of caviar on to a cracker and held it out to Resnick. The detective looked down at it and shook his head.

“Fish eggs – I don’t think so. I need to talk to you privately. Maybe your friends can leave.”

Petrenko shook his head sadly at the detective as he placed the cracker into his own mouth and chewed it slowly. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” he said. “And I doubt on your salary you will have many more opportunities to sample something as exquisite as Beluga. That is your problem, though. What do you wish to talk to me about?”

“Police business.”

“I gathered as much. My friends will stay. So what happened, Detective, did another old man fall and bump his head?”

“There was a bank robbery. One woman was killed, another critically wounded.”

“And what time did this bank robbery occur?”

“Around two.”

Petrenko made another comment in Russian, drawing more laughs from the others sitting at the table. Matter-of-factly, he told Resnick, “You’re wasting your time. I’ve been here with my friends since noon. Maybe, though, I should talk to my lawyer about this harassment.”

“You misunderstand me. I’m not here to accuse you of anything.”

“Then what?”

“Your safety deposit boxes at the Lynn Capital Bank were robbed. I need to get a statement from you.”

The amusement in Petrenko’s eyes dried up, leaving behind something hard and cold. “These games you’re playing, Detective-”

“Sorry, I’m not playing any games.” Resnick took a notebook from his inside jacket pocket and read Petrenko the numbers of the safety deposit boxes that were robbed. “I also took digital photos if you’d care to see them.”

Petrenko moved his head in a slight nod. The color had bled out of his face, leaving behind a dead whiteness. He accepted the camera from Resnick and scrolled through the pictures, studying each one in the camera’s LCD display. When he handed the camera back to Resnick, Petrenko’s facial features had been transformed into something not quite human, almost reptilian.

“Funny thing was, your boxes were the only ones broken into.”

“No other safety deposit boxes were robbed?”

“Nope, it looks like you were targeted. Any idea who might have been out to get you?”

Petrenko sat still, no perceptible movement, his eyes dead as he stared straight ahead. Resnick watched for a moment, having to bite down on his tongue to keep from smirking.

“I need to know what you had in those boxes,” he asked, in as businesslike tone as as he could manage.

Petrenko looked at Resnick, confused, as if he couldn’t understand why this man was still standing there. When Resnick’s words finally registered, he shook his head angrily. “That is personal, Detective. Now if you will excuse me-”

“Sorry, a felony crime has been committed. You do have to answer me, or if not me, I’m sure I can arrange for you to testify in front of a grand jury. In the meantime, I’d be more than happy to arrest you for obstructing a criminal investigation.”

Petrenko sat expressionless, his dead eyes holding steady on Resnick’s. After several minutes passed, he looked away and poured himself a glass of vodka. “I had nothing in those safety deposit boxes,” he said.

“You’ve been paying for eight empty safety deposit boxes?”

“I’ve been meaning to close my account at that bank.”

“Who else knew your box numbers?”

Petrenko shrugged. “No one that I can think of. Detective, this vodka has made me very sleepy. Please, I doubt I can be of any further assistance to you.”

“That’s quite all right. And don’t worry about a thing. I’m sure there must’ve been items in those boxes that you’ve forgotten about. Maybe papers, maybe other things. I want you to rest assured that I am going to dedicate myself to finding who did this and recovering what was in those boxes. I’ll be working on this twenty-four-seven if I have to. You can count on it. And when I find what was stolen, you’ll be the first to know.”

The two men stared at each other. There was no misunderstanding what Resnick was promising. After Resnick left, Petrenko sat staring blankly as his hands slowly clenched into fists.

“That fucking zhid,” he swore. “He came here just to rub it in. Someday soon, I will make it my pleasure to take care of him personally.” He then turned to Yuri Tolkov, who had been sitting to his right. “Find out if these Arabs were stupid enough to have kept that briefcase.”

Yuri nodded, pushed his chair back and got up from the table. The other two men followed him, leaving Petrenko alone, clenching and unclenching his fists.