Safe House

recognize me. When I was done, nobody would recognize him either. That’s the way I was then. I’m not the same now. But I’ve only changed my ways, not my heart.

I’d raised Pansy from a pup. Weaned her myself. She would die for me. And it looked like she had. Standing up all the way. She’d never let another human being into my place when I wasn’t there.

I said goodbye the way we do down here—promising her vengeance. I was using the little monocular I always carry to get a close up when the screen shifted focus: I saw Pansy stir on the litter. She was still alive. The cops must have waited for the EMS unit—they carry tranquilizer guns. So I didn’t need the badge numbers of the cops anymore—I needed my dog back. I U-turned the Plymouth slow and smooth and aimed it toward a place where I could make plans.

“Honey, I called around for hours. We know where she is,” Michelle said, her lustrous eyes shining, reflecting the pain in me. She’s my sister—my pain is hers.

“Where?”

“The new shelter. The one in Hunter’s Point, just across the river? In Long Island City.”

“Yeah, I heard about it. It’s private, right? Part of the fucking Mayor’s giveaway plan.”

“Baby, relax, okay? Crystal Beth ran over there the second I called her. It could get a little stupid . . . Pansy’s got no license, no papers . . . but Crystal knows how to act. Just sit tight, and—”

“When did she leave?”

“Honey, stop. You’re scaring me. She’s been gone almost . . . three hours now. You don’t expect her to haul that monster on the back of her motorcycle, do you?”

“I don’t care how she—”

Michelle put her hand on my forearm, willing me to centered calmness, reminding me of all the years I’d invested in learning the path to that place.

“Can you get Max for me?” I asked Mama. She’d been hovering nearby since the minute I’d come in.

“Sure. Get Max. Come soon, okay?”

I just nodded.

“Burke, you don’t need Max for this,” Michelle told me. “Jesus! It’s not like they’re gonna care, right? So she doesn’t have a license. So Crystal Beth has to pay a fine . . . or whatever. It won’t take long. . . . ”

I stayed inside myself, waiting. Felt Crystal Beth’s small hand on my shoulder before I heard her approach. Smelled her orchid-and-dark tobacco scent. Didn’t move. She came around the table and sat down across from me.

“Burke—”

“What happened?” I cut into whatever she was going to say, already knowing it was bad.

“The . . . license thing wasn’t a problem. Just like Michelle said. They were willing to let me take her. But they wouldn’t bring her out —they said I had to go back and get her myself.”

“And . . . ?”

“And she was in a cage. A big steel cage. Like a tiger or something. There was a sign on it, in red; it said: DANGEROUS! DO NOT APPROACH! The . . . attendant, he told me she wouldn’t take food. Even when they shoved it into the cage, she wouldn’t eat. He warned me not to come near her, but I did anyway, and she . . .”

“What?”

“She tried to kill me. She lunged at the bars, snarling and snapping her teeth, and . . .”

“They don’t know the word,” I said, half to myself. I had poison-proofed Pansy when she was still small. Unless you said the right word, she wouldn’t touch food, no matter how hungry she was. I had a friend who ran a little auto parts joint. He had a Shepherd, a real nice one. He used the dog to guard the place at night, so nobody could help themselves. Some degenerate tossed a strychnine-laced steak over the fence. When the dog helped himself, he died. In pain.

I’d trained Pansy so that would never happen to her. And I should have known she wouldn’t walk out with anyone but me.

They try and get dogs adopted at the shelter. If they can’t, they gas them. Who was going to adopt a sixteen-year-old, hundred-and-fifty-pound monster who could bite the top off a fire hydrant? But Pansy wasn’t going to be gassed . . . she’d loyal herself to death first.

Not a chance. I owed her at least what I’d always promised myself. That I wouldn’t die caged.

“Michelle, go find the Prof for me,” I told her.

A few hours later, I was with a piece of my family, waiting on the rest.

“I can’t scam her out,” I told the women. “I mean, I could go there myself, and she’d come with me. But if I show up . . . the cops know where they got her from, and they might be expecting that. I’m surprised they didn’t try and follow Crystal Beth . . .”

“I was on my bike, honey,” Crystal Beth said, her face calm with assurance.

I knew what she was telling me. There wasn’t a cop car made that could keep up with Crystal Beth on that motorcycle of hers, especially with the steady rain that had been falling for days. For the first time, I noticed what she was wearing—a full set of racing leathers.

“But how were you gonna get Pansy on—?”

“We had a car too, standing by. If I got her out, I was just going to load her in there and—”

“Whose car?”

“I don’t know, Burke. The Mole lent it to us. Some big dark thing. He made me a new license plate for my scooter too. Even if the cops saw it, they won’t make anything out of it.”

“The Mole was gonna drive? Jesus, I—”

“Not the Mole,” Michelle interrupted. “Terry.”

“He’s not— “

“Yes, he is,” she said, a trace of sadness in her voice. “My little boy’s almost a man now. He doesn’t have a license, but he can drive.”

Terry. Had it really been that long since I’d pulled him away from a kiddie pimp in Times Square? Since Michelle took him for her own? Since the Mole had raised him in his junkyard? Since . . . ?

Then the door swung open and the Prof walked in, Clarence at his heels.

“What’s the plan, man? I got the word, came soon as I heard.”

“We have to get her out before they—”

“I said the plan, fool. You know I’m down with the hound. So gimme the four-one- one, son. They gonna be laying in the cut, waiting on you to make your move. We gotta be quick, but we also gotta be slick. Otherwise . . .”

“Let me think,” I told the only father I’d ever had: the one I met behind the Walls.

“Everybody got it?” I asked. It was almost nine o’clock at night by then, more than sixteen hours since my life had been torn apart.

Everybody nodded. Nobody spoke. I looked over at the big circular table in the corner, now piled high with what we needed.

“You sure they’re open twenty-four hours?” I asked Michelle.

“That’s what they said, honey. But I don’t know if they’ll actually open the doors, even if you say it’s an emergency. It’s not a medical place. All they do there is keep the dogs and . . .”

“Kill them,” I finished for her. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” I turned to look at Crystal Beth. “You got the floor plan?”

“Right here,” she said, unrolling it on the table in front of me.

“Mole,” I called, summoning him over. Then I started to explain what I needed.