A Cold Day in Paradise

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When Maven and Allen had finished with me, I called Uttley. I didn’t answer any of his questions. I just told him to come and get me. I stood outside the station house waiting for him, looking out past the courthouse at the locks and beyond them the bridge to Canada. The storm had passed, but the remaining clouds filtered what sunlight there was into an otherwordly glow. Everything looked wrong and I felt sick to my stomach.

That bridge marks the northern end of one of the longest highways in America, Interstate 75. You can take it dead south more than a thousand miles, right out of Michigan, through Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, all the way to Florida. Forget what Maven had said about not leaving. I could just get on that road and go. Never come back.

Would Rose follow me? How long would it take for him to find me again?

Uttley finally showed up in my truck. “God, Alex,” he said when I opened the driver’s side door. “What happened to you?”

“Just move over,” I said.

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed across town. Uttley watched me for a while and then finally said, “Where are we going?”

“To your office.”

“I told Mrs. Fulton we’d come back,” he said. “And my car. It’s still at the casino.”

“We’ll get it later,” I said.

We came to a red light and sat there for a full minute. I closed my eyes and took a long breath. “How are they doing?” I said.

“Mrs. Fulton is a mess,” he said. “I guess that’s understandable. Sylvia finally came inside, but she refused to change out of her wet clothes. When I left, she was just standing at the window, looking out at the lake.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Are you going to tell me what happened at the station?” he said.

“They think I killed Edwin. And everybody else.”

“What? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m not kidding you.” I told him everything that had happened.

He listened to the whole story, shaking his head. “So they didn’t charge you?” he said.

“No. But they told me to stay in town.”

“Goddamn it, I knew I should have gone with you.”

“What good would that have done?”

“You need a lawyer, Alex,” he said. “This is insane.”

“Well, you’re right, I do need you to help me,” I said. “But I’m not going to worry about those two clowns right now.” I stopped the truck in front of his office.

“What are we doing, Alex? Why are we here?”

“We need to call the prison again,” I said. I got out and waited for him. He sat there rubbing his forehead for a long moment and then he finally got out of the truck.

When we got into his office, he sat down behind his desk and looked at his watch. It wasn’t even noon yet. I winced as I sat down in the guest chair. Everything hurt. I felt a hundred years old.

“Where was that guy’s number?” he said. He went through a pile of papers on his desk and finally found it. After he had dialed, he turned on the speaker phone and put the receiver down.

A voice answered, “Corrections, Browning speaking.”

“Mr. Browning,” Uttley said. “This is Lane Uttley in Sault Ste. Marie. We spoke a couple days ago.”

“Yes, you were asking about an inmate.”

“Maximilian Rose,” he said, looking up at me. “I have Mr. McKnight with me here in the office. We’re sorry to bother you again, but I’m afraid our situation has gotten much worse. I mean, we’ve had another, um-”

I picked up the receiver. “This is McKnight,” I said. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. I have good reason to believe that Maximilian Rose is here in the area, and that he’s responsible for three murders.”

“That’s impossible,” Browning said. “That man is here in prison. We’ve gone through this already.”

“I don’t care what you’ve gone through,” I said. “You have to believe me. Something is not right down there. I don’t know how it happened, but I don’t think that man you have is Rose.”

“Mr. McKnight, I told this to Mr. Uttley and now I’m going to tell it to you. I personally took the man’s mug shot and went and stood in front of the man’s cell. He has grown a pretty big beard since then, but-”

“What? A beard? Nobody told me about a beard before.” I looked at Uttley. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Yes, the man has a beard now. But it’s the same man.”

“How can you know for sure?” I said. “He must look totally different now. I mean, whoever that is. He must not look like the picture.”

“Mr. McKnight.” I could tell he was fighting down his anger. He spoke as slowly to me as he would to a child. “If I stopped shaving, a month later, I would have a beard. A year later, I’d have a big beard. But I’d still be the same man.”

“Why won’t he see me? Explain that to me.”

“I don’t know why he won’t see you. It doesn’t matter why. We can’t force him.”

“I want you to fax me his mug shot,” I said. “And then I want you to go take a Polaroid of the man in the cell and fax me that, too. I’ll give you Uttley’s fax number.”

“If a law enforcement officer makes that request, then I’ll do it, sir.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said. “Why can’t you just do it for us?”

“If there’s a murder investigation going on up there and you think somehow Rose is involved, why aren’t the police talking to me?” he said. “You have to admit, this looks mighty strange.”

I didn’t know what to say. They aren’t calling you because they think I did it? How far would that answer get me?

“I don’t have time to explain it,” I said. “Please, you have to believe me. Three people are dead.”

“Have the police call me.”

“I’m begging you,” I said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Then go to hell.” I slammed the phone down.

I just sat there looking at the floor. Uttley didn’t say anything for a while. And then finally, “So now what?”

“We take you back to your car,” I said. “So you can go back to the Fultons’ house.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“No. I don’t think I should be there right now.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to go try to find him.”

“Where?” he said.

“I don’t know. Everywhere.”

“The police should be doing that.”

“They aren’t.”

“Are they going to keep the man outside your cabin, at least?”

“No,” I said. “Why should they?”

“Goddamn it,” he said. He picked up the phone. “I’m going to call that bastard right now.”

“Don’t call him.”

“What?”

“I don’t want a man there anymore.”

“Why not?”

“In his note, Rose said that he knew the man was there. I don’t know how, but he knew.”

“I don’t get it,” he said.

“Don’t you see? It’s not safe for an officer to be there in his car if Rose knows he’s there.”

“But what happens if he shows up now?”

“Then I’ll be waiting for him,” I said.

“Alex, you can’t do this. Not this way. Let me be there, at least.”

“No,” I said. “This is between me and him.”

“Look at you,” he said. “Why don’t you let me stay with you one night at least, so you can get some sleep?”

“I don’t need sleep,” I said. “I’ll sleep when this is over with.”

He argued some more, but he knew he wouldn’t win. Finally, I took him back to the casino to pick up his car. He wanted to come help me look for Rose, but I convinced him that Mrs. Fulton and Sylvia needed him more than I did that day. I don’t know if he believed that, but he left me there and went back to their house.

I looked around the Bay Mills Casino for Vinnie. I figured he’d be the right man to start with. He had seen Edwin the night before. Maybe he had seen someone else there with him. Or at least he could point me to the men who actually threw Edwin out of the place. Maybe they had seen someone.

Someone.

How did he find me? How long had he been here? Has he been watching me? If it had ever occurred to me to check my rearview mirror before the last few days, would I have seen him in the car behind me? That little restaurant by Uttley’s office, the place I often had breakfast after stopping in to see him, was he ever there in a booth across the room, watching me eat? If I had put down the paper and looked up at him, would I have even recognized him?

I couldn’t find Vinnie at any of the blackjack tables, so I just stood there for a few minutes watching the action. I told myself I was waiting for Vinnie to show up for work. But that was a lie. The only reason I kept standing there was because I had no idea what to do next.

When I finally left the casino, I got in my truck and drove west along the shoreline to where the boat had been found. It was as good a place as any. Start at the end and move backward. As I drove, I tried to imagine how it happened. His car was found at the cottage, so Edwin must have come down this very road. Was he alone then? I couldn’t imagine why he would come this way. Was Rose in the car with him? Edwin driving, Rose sitting next to him with a gun in his ribs? Or maybe Rose was driving. Maybe Edwin was lying in the backseat, already dead. Although I didn’t remember seeing any blood when Uttley and I looked into the car.

The trunk. He was in the trunk. Right now they’ve got his Mercedes down at the police station and they’re opening up the trunk. How much of Edwin’s blood will they find there?

I tried to drive the thought out of my mind, but I didn’t have much luck. I kept thinking about Edwin’s blood. When I got to the place where we found the boat, I drove down the long driveway and stopped next to the cottage. It was still deserted. Nobody would be here until the next summer. There was a weather vane on the top. I hadn’t noticed that before. It was spinning madly in the wind.

I got out of the truck and walked slowly down the beach. The boat was gone. They had taken it, along with the car. There was no trace left, nothing to tell you what had happened here.

I looked out at the water. The rain had stopped. There were high clouds moving fast across the sky. The wind stung my face. It felt like all the heat had gone out of the world. It felt like I would never be warm again.

I hoped he didn’t suffer. I hoped by the time he got here, he was already gone. Just a body to be dumped into the water. I hoped he didn’t lie bleeding in the boat, watching Rose working at the oars. I hoped he didn’t know that his life was almost over, that he would soon feel the icy shock of the water, that he would struggle with whatever strength he had left but that it wouldn’t be enough.

Why did he have to pick Edwin of all people? All the money in the world and yet he was the most helpless man I had ever known. I wanted to hate him for being married to Sylvia, but I couldn’t. I thought about that night in the bar when he told me I was the only real friend he ever had. Everyone else just wanted his money, he said.

The only real friend he ever had. I fucked his wife and then a madman out of my past came all the way up here and killed him.

Find Rose. That’s the only thing left to do. That’s the only thing you can do now. Find Rose.

He has to be staying somewhere. Judging from the phone calls and the notes, he probably doesn’t come out much during the day. But he has to eat. I looked up and down the beach. I couldn’t see any other cottages from where I was standing, but I knew they were scattered through the trees. He could have broken into one of them. There might be food there. And nobody would find him at this time of year. But there were hundreds of cottages on the shore. It would take weeks to look at all of them.

But no, he wouldn’t break into a cottage. Somehow, I just knew that. I was trying to think like him, see the world through his eyes. All around you, evil aliens. You can’t trust anyone. You hide during the day. Where do you hide? Someplace safe. Behind a solid door with a good lock. I remembered how we had to wait outside his apartment door while he undid all the locks. If you break into a place, then you’ve broken that door, or that window. You won’t be able to close it behind you and lock it.

I went back to the truck. He’s in a motel. The lock on the door isn’t enough, because the man at the desk has a key and the maid has a key. But there’s a dead bolt on the door. Something that you can only unlock from the inside.

I backed out of the driveway, drove back into the Soo. He killed Bing there, after he saw him at that bar. And the restaurant where he killed Dorney, that was just a few blocks away. Maybe he was staying on that side of town, over by the bridge. It made sense. Or as much sense as it was going to make.

I drove into town, trying to think of all the motels. The summer crowd was long gone. It had to be mostly hunters now. Would Rose stand out from that crowd? Would a desk clerk remember him? The first killing was, what, only seven days ago? How long was he here before that? How long has he been watching me?

I worked my way through town, stopping at every motel I could find. I didn’t have much to work with. No badge. No picture to show them even. Just a vague description. A strange man, eyes you wouldn’t soon forget. May or may not be wearing a big blond wig. Obviously, yes, if he had the wig you’d remember him. Been in town at least a week, probably more. I must have looked pretty strange myself. I hadn’t slept, I hadn’t shaved. I still had the same clothes on from the day before, my shirt rained on and then dried into a map of wrinkles.

Most of the desk clerks were kinder than I had a right to expect, and they seemed to believe that I was a private investigator. Even without a card. But nobody had seen anyone with a blond wig or with eyes you wouldn’t soon forget.

I kept at it all day, working my way to the western side of the city and then right out to the highway. I lost count of how many motels I visited. It would have been discouraging if I had stopped to think about it. But it was something to do, at least. Something else besides just waiting. I drove by the Riverside Motel, where it all started. I didn’t think Rose would be staying there. He saw Bing in that bar and then probably followed him back to his motel room. It would have been too much of a coincidence if Rose was staying there, too. But I drove by, anyway. I just had to see it again. The place was closed down, a big “For Sale” sign taped to the office window.

I pulled into the empty parking lot and sat there for a while. I had spent most of the day looking for him, but now I was running out of ideas.

Wait a minute, I thought. I started in the Soo, because that’s where the murders happened, and then I worked my way west. Maybe that’s backward. Rose found me somehow, and he knows that I live in Paradise. So maybe he’s staying in Paradise. It was worth a shot.

I drove around the bay and up to Paradise. On the way, I stopped in at the casino again. Vinnie was there, but he wasn’t able to tell me anything useful. He hadn’t seen anyone suspicious. He found the security men who had escorted Edwin to the front door, but they were no help, either.

Paradise is a small town, but there’s enough tourist trade to support a dozen motels. They were all little family-run places, eight or ten rooms, nice views of the water. Brochures in the lobby for the Shipwreck Museum and the Tanquamenon Falls State Park, hiking in the summer, hunting in the fall, snowmobiling in the winter. I knew most of the owners, at least well enough to nod to them if I saw them at the post office. But none of them could help me. If Rose was in Paradise, he was doing a damned good job of hiding.

The sun was just starting to go down. I stopped in at the Glasgow, figured I’d grab some dinner, collect my thoughts, prepare myself for another long night of waiting. Some of the regular crowd was there, but nobody even spoke to me. They all must have heard about the note that was left there, about me and Maven going at it in the parking lot. About Edwin. Jackie put a plate down in front of me, gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, and then left me alone.

It was dark by the time I got home. I walked around the cabin before I went in. I wasn’t sure what I might find. It just seemed like the right thing to do. Inside, I looked at the machine still hooked up to the phone. I picked up the walkie-talkie, turned it on and listened to the static, turned if off. These things weren’t going to do me any good now. I was surprised that Maven hadn’t asked me to return them. He must have forgotten. He’s probably at home right now, I thought, sitting in front of the TV, slapping himself in the head. Damn it all, he’s saying to his wife, I forgot to make McKnight give back the phone machine and the radio. That stuff is police property.

The gun was still on the table next to the bed. I picked it up and held it. There was nothing more I could do, except sit here in this cabin and wait. It was all up to Rose now.

I sat on the bed for a while, but then I realized that was a mistake. Too easy to fall asleep. I got up and sat in one of the hard wooden chairs at the kitchen table. The time passed slowly. I looked at my watch. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet. I got up and looked out the window, saw nothing but my own reflection. I turned off all the inside lights and tried again. The one light I had outside above the front door didn’t do much good. I could only see the edge of the road, my truck, the woodpile, the first few pine trees. Beyond that, the forest stretched in all directions. The moon was just a rumor behind the clouds.

It was quiet. The crickets were long gone, the tree frogs asleep for the winter. No wind. The trees were still.

I sat back down in the chair. Before long, my head started to feel heavy. Uttley was right. I needed to sleep. I should have let him come over for one night.

Maybe I can still call him. Maybe I can call Uttley. The phone. Get the phone. Pick up the phone and call him. I’ll pick up the phone now.

I saw myself picking up the phone. There was blood on it. I looked at the blood on my hands. There was a pool of it on the floor. Blood everywhere.

This is a dream. I must wake up. I cannot sleep now. I cannot sleep.

I raise my head from the table. I am not in my cabin. There is a window in front of me. I rise and go to it. There is a great courtyard. Four great walls around it, a thousand windows. In the center of the courtyard there is a man. I can barely see him, the courtyard is so big. His back is to me. He is hunched over something.

He turns and looks at me. Out of a thousand windows, he knows that I am right here. He is looking right at me. I see that he has been sharpening a knife on an old-fashioned turning stone. He caresses the knife while he looks at me.

I run. I am in a hallway. It is the hallway in the apartment building in Detroit. I run past a hundred doors and then I open one. Franklin is lying on the ground. He is covered in blood but he is looking up at me. Don’t leave me here, he says. The walls are covered with aluminum foil.

I close the door. I hear Franklin calling to me even as I keep running. My legs will not work. I cannot run fast enough. The hallway will not end.

Finally I open another door. Edwin is there, lying on a white table. He is wet and covered with seaweed. I look down at him and say that I am sorry. He tries to open his eyes. But he has no eyes. The fish have eaten them.

There is a pounding on the door. Edwin grabs at me. He cannot see but his hands find my arm. He is pulling at me while I try to back away from the door.

More pounding. Hard enough to break it down. He will be here soon. I cannot hide from him any longer.

I woke up.

I was sitting at my kitchen table. There was no sound except for my breathing and the faint ticking of a clock.

And then the pounding on the door.

I jumped out of the chair. My gun. Where is my gun?

More pounding.

Goddamn it, my gun. I don’t know where it is. Not on the table, not on the bedstand. Where the fuck is my gun?

Pounding, pounding.

There, under the kitchen table. It was in my hand when I fell asleep. Down on my hands and knees, get the gun. Check it. Ready to go. Get back up. Go to the door.

The pounding stopped.

I stood there by the door, listening.

Silence.

I waited. Nothing.

I raised the gun and unlocked the door. Opened it a sliver and looked out into the night.

Sylvia looked up at me. “Alex.”

She had the same clothes on, the sweater I saw her wearing as I watched her from the window that day. It was dry now, but she still wasn’t wearing a coat. I could feel her shivering as I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her inside. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t say anything. She just stood there and looked around my cabin. All the time we had spent together, she had never been here.

I grabbed a blanket and wrapped her up. “Sit down,” I said. “I’ll make you some tea or something.”

She sat down at the table, in the chair where I had just been sleeping.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said as I put some water on the stove. “You should be home with Edwin’s mother.”

“She’s gone,” Sylvia said, looking down at nothing.

“What?”

“She went back down to Grosse Pointe. She said she couldn’t stay here another minute.”

“But what about… I mean, what if they find him?”

“Then they’ll send him down there,” she said. “That’s where the service is going to be.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there watching the water. The cabin was silent until the water finally started to boil.

“Where’s Uttley?” I said.

“I sent him home,” she said. “I don’t like him. How can you work for him, anyway? He reminds me of a used car salesman.”

“Sylvia, goddamn it all.”

“What, Alex?” She finally looked up at me. “What?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about?”

“Everything,” I said. “About everything.”

She started to say something but just shook her head and looked down again. I made her tea and put the cup on the table in front of her.

“He’s gone,” she said. “He’s really gone.”

“Yes.”

“It’s just what I wanted to happen,” she said. “I wished for it every night.”

“Sylvia, don’t talk that way.”

“It’s true, Alex. I wanted him to disappear forever. And now he has.”

“You didn’t make it happen,” I said.

“I think I did, Alex. I think I wished for it so hard, it finally happened. And you know what the funny thing is? I don’t feel a thing. If I was a bad person, I’d be happy. If I was a good person, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t feel anything either way. I’m just… I don’t even know what. I just feel nothing.”

“You’re still in shock,” I said. “You’re going to need some time.”

“And you’ll be here to help me through it, right? Is that what you’re getting at? Now that he’s gone? Now that I’m not your friend’s wife anymore?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“The hell you didn’t,” she said. She threw the blanket off her shoulders and stood up. “Why did I come here, anyway? What the hell am I doing here?” She looked around her. “This is a pretty tiny fucking cabin, you know that, Alex? I think my bathroom is bigger than this cabin.”

“Sylvia, stop it.”

“I should have known it would be this small. You built this yourself, didn’t you? I’m surprised it’s still standing.”

“I said stop it.” I went to her and grabbed her by the shoulders again. This time I squeezed a little harder.

“Let go of me,” she said.

I just looked at her.

“Let go of me,” she said again. But she didn’t struggle. She didn’t try to get away.

I kept looking at her eyes, her hair, her mouth. I could feel the warmth of her body. Goddamn it all, I wanted her more than ever.

She just stood there. I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. Her eyes gave nothing away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I finally said. “It’s not safe.”

“What do you mean, it’s not safe? You’ve got a policeman outside keeping watch.”

“No,” I said.

“Yes, you do,” she said. “In the unmarked car, hiding in the woods.”

“No, Sylvia. He’s not there anymore.”

“Yes, he is,” she said. “I saw him.”

“What are you talking about? When did you see him?”

“Tonight,” she said. “Just now, I mean. When I pulled in. He’s out there right now.”