44 - Lesson about the frontier

 

  

Mike closed the apartment door quietly behind. The long angle of sunset light blinded him for a moment at the railing as he circled down the stairs to the driveway and then to the street. People sat on their lawns, pathetic little middle class kings and queens, surveying their quarter acre empires with suspicion. They eyed him as he passed, more suspicious for his wishing them a good day.

 At the corner of Fountain and McCadden, a police car sat at the curb, the faces of its occupants hidden by tinted glass. But Mike could feel their gazes following him along the street and half expected the doors to burst open as he passed.

 Nothing occurred-- though turning the corner he saw two more sets of cherry tops parked on either side, like gate markers to some invisible kingdom, waiting and watching for invaders. But the cops in neither car looked up.

 Odd.

 A moment later, a white four-door Ford pulled up, Demetre's scarred face behind the wheel. The cop pushed the passenger door open. "Get in."

 "Here? Out in the open like this?"

 "Michael!" Demetre growled, voice strained and weary. "Get in the Goddamn car. I don't have time for your song and dance."

 Mike slid into the car, the seat-fabric warm from a day in sunlight. He slammed the door. Demetre made a U-turn, lifting his hand to the uniformed cars as he went by. Mike noted these pulling back into traffic behind them, then turning off as Demetre kept straight.

 "Did you get the information?" Mike asked.

 "It's in the briefcase," Demetre said, indicating the open leather case on the floor.

 Mike reached down.

 "Wait till we get out of town," the cop said.

 Mike nodded and sat back.

 The cop kept the speed exactly at 25 the whole way to Highland. He turned right towards the Boulevard. The sidewalks grew thick with people. The vanishing sun brought out the whacos: jesus freaks and bikers trading insults across traffic like hillbillies feuding. Waves of tourists fluttered from one side the boulevard to the other, creating a jam of buses and cars in front of Grauman's Chinese theater. Demetre cursed and leaned on the horn till he weaved through the worst of it. Another block farther on, the white car rose up into the winding hills of Laurel Canyon.

 Beyond the curses, Demetre said nothing, steering the vehicle like a robot, His gaze leaped from mirror to mirror, studying behind them as much as the road. It took a few miles for him to relax, and another few for him to turn down a steep embankment-- the dirt road one of many of the odd-angled driveways marring these hills. The sand and stone rose on either side like closing fingers, dark shadows covering their trail of twilight crept over the valley. If anyone had followed them from Hollywood, they'd done so without headlights.

 Demetre pulled the car up in front of what had once been a fine estate. The sagging black wood indicated a long cold fire. Mud slides and time had turned the rest of rubble, burying most of the ranch-style house. A pealing "for Sale" sign had been poked into the soft soil of the right embankment.

 Demetre killed the headlights and engine and snapped on the inside dome. His black face sweated, and his eyes drooped enough to say he'd not slept in some time. But Mike read doubt in those eyes.

 "So you want to know all about Buckingham, eh?" the cop said.

 "That's right."

 "All right, Michael. I'll teach you a lesson about life on the frontier. One you won't forget either. Hand me the brief case."

 Mike complied. Demetre removed a thick bundle of varying colored file folders. Loose newsprint dangled from several like tails.

 "You know when all this started, I thought you were Buckingham," Demetre said.

 "Me?"

 "He has your touch."

 "Look, Demetre," Mike said. "I've done a hell of a lot of things since my trial in Arizona. But I'm not mass murderer."

 "Then you know something," Demetre said, brows rising.

 "Mostly rumor-- and what Gil told me in Phoenix."

 "Ah, Gil," the cop said with a sigh. "Another misguided fool."

 "What made you think I was Buckingham?" Mike asked, annoyed at the suggestion. "I thought you knew me better than that."

 "The killing confused me. I'll admit that. But everything else was the same. The way you move and think, like an echo of you. Or maybe a mockery. I'm still not sure of it."

 "But now you don't believe it?" Mike asked, wondering just how far he could run before the cop shot him or wrestled him to the ground. A long time ago, he had tried to out run the cop and hadn't gotten far. But both had been younger then.

 "You wouldn't be here-- like this-- if I did," the cop said. "But it's more complicated than that. You're looking for something that might just spell your doom."

 "My doom?"

 Again, Demetre sighed and flipped open the folders. One after another he showed them to Mike, photographs and fact sheets of people along what the cops had come to call The Buckingham trail.

 "Some of these people you know," Demetre said. "Some of them are just the up and coming. But all of them knew of you."

 "What?"

 "Is that so surprising? You're not a typical figure in the underworld, Michael. You're above it in the eyes of many, cleaner than the common drug dealer, more ethical than the Weather Underground."

 "That's bullshit!"

 "You and I know better. But we live in a time when others crave heroes. First it was that bastard, Kennedy. Then the Beatles. Now its suck now to people as despicable as Charlie Manson."

 "And I'm despicable, too?"

 "In some ways," Demetre admitted. "In other ways you're as noble as these deluded fools think you are."

 "That's high praise coming from you," Mike said with a laugh.

 Demetre, however, looked over, and in the dim light his face was drawn, the scar standing out on his face like a protruding bone.

 "It wasn't meant to be praise, Michael," he said softly. "Because heroes like you, Kennedy, King and others attract peculiar admirers, the kind which wants to kill you."

 Mike laughed. "You know, Demetre, you've always been the rather serious sort, but now you're outright morose. I'm no Martin Luther King."

 "To a lot of people, you're an individual avenger, fighting against the unfair system and winning."

 "Winning?" Mike barked. "That's what they call this? It feels more like being hounded to me, and I'm sick of it. The only thing I want now is to be left alone."

 "I know," Demetre said. "It's the reason I'm here. I've known that much since I saw you in the courtroom long ago. I know what makes you tick, and I would have helped you sooner, but you had to get all the hate out of you first."

 "And now it's all out of me?" Mike asked, his voice crisp and angry. He didn't want to have to think about the court room or what had been resolved there, or the child now calling another man daddy.

 "The hate, yes. The anger will never leave you. Nor should it. A court room or a badge doesn't mean the things or people behind them are always right. Often they are not. In your case they were terribly wrong. But this whole thing with Buckingham is far worse. It is something that'll either kill you and turn you truly evil."

 "Like I have a choice."

 "You do. Despite your reputation, you're not as hunted as you believe..."

 "Tell that to the fifteen hundred cop cars that have my photograph flapping in their faces!" Mike exploded.

 "An old photograph, Michael. One that doesn't even look like you anymore. Besides, you can't expect to play Black Bart and not have wanted posters. But you aggravate matters every time you pull a new stunt. The foolishness with the pot farm in Nebraska, for instance. It not only added to your reputation and admiring fans, but also reminded the authorities of your presence in their world. All you really have to do is lay low for a while, get a serious job. And have this galloping reputation of your fade into the dust with all the other cowboy legends."

 "Right!" Mike said. "So that in ten years some smart-assed FBI man looking to make a name for himself will come knocking at my door. Or some petty private eye. Or some part time quack."

 "All of them would forget you if you hid well enough."

 "Hide from the best dicks in the country?"

 "You're good enough."

 "Tell that to the Tinkertons!" Mike said. "They're in town, I hear."

 Demetre's expression grew grim again. "I know. But that was not your doing. I talked with their captain. Someone told them where you were. Or rather where your girlfriend is."

 "What? They know where Marie is?" Mike howled, clawing at the car handle to get out.

 "Calm yourself. I'll drive you back to town when we're done. They haven't gotten to her yet. Last I heard they missed catching her on the Boulevard after she slipped through some gay bar."

 Mike sagged. "Oh that," he said with a sigh. Old news. Lance had rescued her. "I thought you meant something new."

 Demetre shook his head. "You're really caught on her that bad, eh?"

 "I'm addicted," Mike mumbled.

 "Which makes you all the more a fool! What else did you expect with kidnapping her?"

 "I didn't kidnap her, she insisted on coming."

 "At fourteen it amounts to the same thing. And the Tinkertons, by God. They're worse than Hoover's bunch and twice as dogged. They are something to worry about. They may never let go of your scent."

 "It won't matter much if I get a hold of Buckingham," Mike said.

 "For God's sake, aren't you listening to me? This character Buckingham is killing people, hunting down self-styled drug lords in every town east of the Mississippi. Empires have fallen, Michael. Havoc exist in his trail."

 "I know," Mike moaned. "But I don't have a choice."

 Demetre grabbed Mike's collar and yanked him up nose to nose, the smell of mint curling up between them like gas. "Listen to me, damn it. Buckingham doesn't just want to be kingpin of the west coast. He wants his competition crushed. But above all, Michael, more than any of that, he wants you dead."


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