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  He didn’t mind using other people’s money—preferred it, really—except the people who were making the right kind of noises this time around were connected. Earl didn’t much care for the kind of interest they’d be expecting when he paid them back. They were an old outfit working out of New York City, but new to the drug trade. Earl wasn’t all that keen on getting caught up between them and the established outfits, but what could you do? The deal was sure as hell right.

  Hearing about Frankie’s big win was the shot in the arm Earl had needed. He knew there’d be no problem getting the bread out of her, so he’d been renegotiating his deal with the New York boys first, as well as putting the final touches on the Colombian end.

  Things had started off dicey in New York. He’d had a lot of meetings with the Magaddino consigliere, Broadway Joe Fucceri, but in the end things had worked Earl’s way. Hell, nobody was going to give them as sweet a deal as what he’d laid out for them, especially now that they didn’t have to put out any upfront money. With the deal set for the middle of June, he flew up to Ottawa, only to hit the first snag in his plans. Frankie’d covered her tracks too well and she wasn’t to be found.

  Earl still had trouble figuring her out. Something about her had changed in the few months before she split, and to this day it didn’t make sense. Hell, when they had first met she’d liked partying as much as he had. What did having a kid change?

  But it had gotten so she didn’t want any of the crowd hanging around the apartment anymore, and then she’d picked up on the fact that the job he was going to every night had nothing to do with cleaning office buildings. He’d gotten into dealing in a heavy way. What the fuck—a guy had to live, right? Pushing a broom around some asshole’s office wasn’t living, not so far as Earl Shaw was concerned. And was it his fault he had to start carrying a piece? The action was getting rough and a man had to protect his shit or the big boy’d walk all over him. Christ, he was bringing home the bacon, wasn’t he?

  But that didn’t cut shit with Frankie. She went all prissy on him. There was no more talk, no more arguments. One morning he came home and she was gone, headed out west where she started divorce proceedings against him.

  He would have followed her—just to show her who was boss—but about that time he got involved in some action that took him down to Colombia for a little business trip. After that he’d drifted—Miami, L.A., New York, Van, T.O. He’d put on some meat and didn’t look a whole lot like the skinny hippie he’d been when he’d first gotten into the drug scene way back when. By the time he ran across Frankie’s picture in the Star, he’d been up and he’d been down, but he hadn’t thought about her or the kid in years. Had to be an omen, he figured. Things’d been down for so long this time, they just had to start looking up again.

  Which was all well and good, except come Saturday night—two weeks from when he was scheduled to fly back to Bogota—he and Howie had run out of options and were up against a dead end. It was around ten o’clock that night, when they were killing a couple of beers in a William Street bar, that things finally took a turn for the better.

  “Earl? Earl Shaw?”

  Earl looked up into a drunken face he didn’t know. The guy was a geek, long thin face, big ears, big horn-rims, nice polyester suit—if you could believe that anyone still wore those things.

  “I’m supposed to know you?” Earl asked.

  “It’s Bob—Bob Goldman, Earl. I used to live upstairs from you and Frankie back in ’73 or so, remember?”

  Earl added some length to the geek’s short hair, replaced the horn-rims with a pair of round wire frames, and then he had him.

  “Sure,” he said. “I remember you now. You got time for a drink?”

  “Don’t mind if I do, Earl. Don’t mind if I do. I’ve had one of those days, you know, those days when nothing, ab-so-lute-ly nothing goes right?”

  Earl nodded sympathetically. “So what’re you up to these days?”

  “Well, I moved up from T.O. a couple of years ago. I’m into computers now, working as a consultant.”

  “How’s the pay?”

  “Oh, the pay’s good. No complaints. I’ve got a place out in the west end and I’m married now, you know. Joy’s expecting our first.”

  Earl put an enthusiastic smile on his face. “Hey, that’s great. There’s nothing like a fam—”

  “But you see,” Goldman interrupted, “I had to work today—work late, too—except Joy doesn’t buy that. But what the hell am I supposed to do? Listen to her or to my boss? So I said fuck her, went in anyway and I’m not going home until I’m good and pissed. I figure if she’s going to get on my case, I might as well tie one on and make all the harping worthwhile.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Earl said. “Take it from one who blew it. I still miss Frankie and Alice, you know. I’d give anything to be able to make things up to them.”

  He sighed heavily, hoping he was playing it right. Having lived upstairs from them in Toronto, Goldman probably remembered some of the fights that had gone down. He’d been pretty tight with Frankie, too—sided with her a lot. She’d probably been fucking him on the side.

  Earl met Goldman’s gaze now, putting as much sincerity as he could into his face. “You ever run into them?” he asked. “I heard they moved to Ottawa.”

  Goldman looked uncomfortable and shook his head quickly. Too quickly, Earl decided. He was remembering things about Toronto now, Earl saw. Maybe he’d remember that it didn’t pay to fuck around with Earl Shaw.

  “I, uh, haven’t seen her since you two split up,” Goldman said. “Are you looking for her?”

  Bingo, Earl thought. He knows.

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind saying hello,” he said, “especially to Alice, but I don’t suppose Frankie’d be all that keen on seeing me. It’s probably better if we don’t get together.”

  Goldman nodded. “People change.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? So what’re you drinking, Bob?”

  Goldman looked at his watch. “Actually, it’s getting a little late. I should be running. But it was great seeing you again, Earl.”

  “You bet. Sure I can’t change your mind about that drink?” Earl asked as Goldman stood up.

  Goldman shook his head and backed away from their table. “Stick to him,” Earl told Howie as Goldman made his way unsteadily to the door and out to the street.

  “I’ll get the car. Ten minutes, I’ll meet you at the corner of William and York—got it?”

  “Sure, Earl.”

  Howie left the table and slipped into the crowd. There wasn’t much to Howie, Earl thought as he went to get the car, but you had to say this for him. When he tailed someone, he stuck on like a burr.

  * * *

  “Hey, Bob!”

  Goldman turned to see Earl’s friend running up to him. The smaller man had his left hand in the air, holding a wallet and acting as though Goldman had left it behind. His right hand was in the pocket of his jacket.

  Why the hell had he talked to Earl in the first place? Goldman wondered. Frankie had told him often enough about the kind of man Earl had become—about his violence and the kinds of people he hung around with—and Goldman knew why Earl was looking for her. It was the Wintario prize.

  “I think you forgot something,” Howie said as he reached him.

  “I don’t think—” Goldman tried.

  Howie moved in close and nudged him with his pocketed gun. “You know what this is?” Howie asked softly.

  Goldman nodded.

  “So we wait up at the corner for Earl and there’s no problem, right?”

  “Look, whatever—”

  Howie shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just wait for Earl, okay? We’re playing by his rules.”

  As they reached the corner Earl pulled over to the curb in a metallic blue Chev. Howie motioned Goldman into the back seat, then climbed in beside him.

  “Listen,” Goldman began.

  Earl turned to face him. “Ho
ld that thought,” he said. “We’re going for a little drive so we can have some privacy, and then you’re going to tell me everything I want to know about Frankie—am I right?”

  Goldman swallowed, then nodded.

  “That’s my boy,” Earl said. He reached over and patted Goldman’s cheek, then turned to face frontward. Putting the Chev into gear, he pulled away from the curb.

  * * *

  They drove Goldman into Industrial Park off Old Innes Road and parked the Chev behind some warehouses. Earl killed the engine and stepped out of the car. He stood, listening to the distant traffic on Russell Road. When he was sure there was no one in the immediate vicinity, he motioned to Howie. Howie got Goldman out of the car.

  “Okay, Bob,” Earl said. “It’s nice and quiet here. There’s no one to disturb us. Now I want you to tell me what you know about Frankie. You could start with where she’s living now.”

  “I don’t know too much,” Goldman began.

  Earl hit him in the stomach, stepping back as Goldman doubled over, gasping.

  “I’ll decide what’s too much or too little,” he said. “Now talk.”

  “She—she was living on Gloucester when she won the lottery. Joy and I used to visit them sometimes, or she and Ali would come over to our place for dinner….” He glanced at Earl, fright plain in his eyes. In the vague lighting they had a glazed look to them.

  “You’re doing good so far,” Earl said. “So where’s she living now? The paper said something about her fixing up her old man’s place, but it didn’t say where. Did she ever talk to you about it?”

  “It’s in Lanark. Her…her dad used to own a place just outside of Lanark.”

  Earl nodded. “I thought it was around that area, though I would’ve put it farther south. You got some details now on how to get there?”

  “I don’t know the exact address—it’s on a dirt road—but I can…I could draw a map or something.”

  Earl gave Howie a wave. Howie dug a ballpoint pen out of his pocket. Looking around for something to write on, he spotted a cigarette package, which he tore open, exposing the white inside.

  “How’s this?”

  “It’s good,” Earl said and handed them to Goldman. “Draw, Bob. You can use the hood of the car.”

  Hands shaking, Goldman drew out a map of the way to Frankie’s place, praying that he was remembering it properly. He and Joy had only been out there once, and that was in April, before the place was finished.

  “Okay,” Earl said as he studied the map. “You did good.” He took out his own gun and motioned Goldman away from the car. “On your knees, Bob.”

  “Please…”

  “See, we’ve got a problem now,” Earl said conversationally. “You’ve made us and if you’d spill your guts so quickly to us, what’s to stop you from doing the same to the man?”

  “No,” Goldman said earnestly. “I won’t tell the police or anyone. I swear! I won’t tell a soul. Please. For God’s sake, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t…hurt…”

  His voice trailed off as Earl stepped in close, holding the barrel of his gun up to Goldman’s mouth.

  “Suck on this,” Earl said.

  “Wh-what…?”

  “I said, suck on it.”

  Tremors ran up and down Goldman as he leaned forward and placed his mouth around the cold metal. Earl put his free hand on the top of Goldman’s head. Grabbing a handful of the short hair, he rammed the gun deeper into Goldman’s mouth. From where Howie stood, he could see the wild light in Earl’s eyes as he pulled the trigger.

  The sound of the shot was somewhat muffled, Goldman’s head serving as a natural baffle. The bullet took out most of the back of the head when it exited. Extracting the weapon, Earl pushed the body away from where it sprawled in the dirt.

  “Bye-bye, Bob,” he said.

  “Shit,” Howie muttered.

  Earl turned to him. “You got a problem?”

  Howie regarded him for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. “What’re we going to do with him?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Look, he had us made. We’re not talking nickels and dimes here, Howie, m’man. We’re talking about a major slice of two hundred grand. We’re talking about what that money’s going to buy us in Colombia—you see where I’m heading? Against all that, this guy ain’t worth shit. What’s the matter with you anyway? Were you queer for him?”

  Howie shook his head.

  “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

  Howie nodded and got into the passenger’s side. “What about your ex?” he asked as Earl started up the car.

  “What about her?”

  “You really think she’s just going to hand over the money?”

  “She’s got a kid,” Earl said. “We’re going to take the kid, then if she don’t pay, the kid goes.”

  “But it’s your kid, too.”

  Earl shook his head wearily. “Christ, Howie. I haven’t seen the little squirt for over ten years. What’s she to me but a baby version of her old lady, huh? I didn’t see her coming to stay with her daddy when Frankie walked out on me.”

  “Well, when you put it like that,” Howie said.

  “Yeah,” Earl said. “I put it like that. Now keep your eyes open for a new set of wheels. I figure these’ve got a little hot by now.”

  “Are we going out tonight?” Howie asked. “After your ex?”

  Earl shook his head. “I was thinking more along the lines of a nice Sunday drive. We could pull into her place just about the time the sun’s going down so we don’t get lost driving in.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Earl grinned, eyes on the road. “That’s what I like about you, Howie. You know how to push, but you’re not stupid, so you know when to settle back and let things slide, too.”

  Howie didn’t bother replying. He didn’t have to. Earl was talking more to himself, thinking aloud. Howie settled back in the seat, trying to keep the memory of the look on Earl’s face when he pulled the trigger out of Goldman’s head. Howie didn’t ever want to get on Earl’s wrong side, he decided. It just didn’t pay.

  11

  “Mom?” Ali called as she came down the stairs. “Have you seen my Walkman? I was sure I’d left it on my bed this morning, but…”

  Her voice trailed off as she reached the kitchen and found Frankie on the phone, looking serious. Ali sat down at the kitchen table and tried to remember how long ago she’d heard the phone ring. Whoever it was on the other end of the line, they weren’t exactly calling with good news. At least not from the look on her mother’s face.

  “Who was that?” she asked when Frankie finally hung up.

  “That was Joy. She…oh, Ali! Bob was killed last night.”

  “What?”

  “He was shot,” Frankie said, still trying to come to grips with the news herself. “The police found his body behind a warehouse last night and got his name from his wallet, but Joy still had to…she still had to identify the body….”

  “Oh, Mom. That’s horrible.”

  Frankie nodded dully. Had someone asked her, she would not have numbered the Goldmans among her closest friends. She saw them more for old times’ sake, for the support that Bob had given her through the hard times in Toronto. But even though they didn’t have a great deal in common anymore, she still felt very close to Joy in the wake of this terrible news. The poor woman was five months into her first pregnancy and had lost her parents over the winter….

  “I told her I’d go stay with her,” Frankie said. “At least until Bob’s parents fly in from Calgary. They’re due on a nine o’clock flight.”

  “I don’t have to go, do I?” The last thing Ali wanted was to be a part of this kind of bummer.

  “I don’t think you should stay here by yourself.”

  “Aw, c’mon, Mom. I’m not a kid anymore.”

  Frankie shook her head. “It’d be different if we still lived in town, but out here
…”

  “I’m probably safer out here than I’d be in town.”

  “Well…”

  “Besides, I could always go up to Tony’s. Maybe he’d let me watch a movie or something till you get back.”

  Frankie looked at the stove clock. Five past two. She’d promised Joy that she’d be in town by three-thirty at the latest and she still had to change.

  “Mom?”

  “Okay,” Frankie said. “But phone him now while I go change.”

  Ali nodded. “I’ll ask him if I can go up later in the afternoon, because I’ve still got some studying and stuff to do.”

  “Fine,” Frankie said, already on her way down the hall.

  By the time Frankie was back downstairs, Ali was waiting for her by the front door, purse and car keys extended.

  “Tony says it’s okay,” she said. “I’m going up around dinnertime.”

  “Don’t make a pest of yourself,” Frankie said as she took her purse and keys from Ali.

  “Mom!”

  Frankie blinked, then looked at her daughter. “I’m sorry, Ali. I keep forgetting how big you’re getting. Look, I’ll be back as quick as I can, all right? But things might drag on, so don’t wait up for me.”

  “What time should I come home for?”

  “I forgot—you’ll be at Tony’s. What time does he go to bed, do you know?”

  Ali shook her head.

  “Well, if it’s all right with him, wait for me there,” Frankie said, not wanting to think of Ali walking that dark road by herself at night. “Okay?”

  “Sure. Don’t worry about me. I can always snooze on his couch if I get tired.”

  Frankie nodded. Thank God she’d met Tony last night. She’d been feeling a little nervous about Ali’s friendship with him at first, but she’d gotten a good feeling from him last night. Now that she felt she could trust him, there was that much less to worry about. She pulled Ali close for a hug.

  “Be good,” she said.

  “I will. Don’t get into an accident trying to get there too quickly.”