was gonna do. But you seem like a better guy. Head screwed on, but screwed on right.”
Sometimes the people you least expect to have insight are the ones who deliver the most unvarnished truth.
“We’re good, then?” I said. Bruce said that we were. “Sam,” I said, “why don’t you see if anyone might be interested in the whereabouts of a master criminal with a fascinating insight into the mind-set of bad guys the world over.”
“Will do, Mikey,” Sam said and gave Bruce a big pat on the back, the special code between men that actually means “please leave so we can talk about you,” which fortunately Bruce wasn’t aware of and thus took the pat to mean we were all part of a big team and thus walked off with a nice stride of confidence. Nevertheless, Sam, Fiona and I walked outside and stood on the front lawn to continue our conversation.
“Nice smile you gave old Brucey there, Fiona,” Sam said. “He’ll be on blood thinners by the morning.”
“We all have unique skills that help people acquiesce. It’s not my fault that I was born with unbelievable charm.”
“We’re going to need more than Fi’s charm to get Bruce FBI protection,” Sam said.
“There’s a hit squad looking for him,” I said. “Shouldn’t that be enough?”
“The fed boys didn’t even respond to him dropping off the Ghouls’ papers. He was a big deal twelve years ago, but times change, Mikey. Unless someone in the Ghouls was born in Qatar, that’s back-burner stuff. He’s not the asset he was.”
“So make him sound better,” I said.
“How am I going to do that?”
“Don’t you have any friends who could, say, improve his sheet? Make it look like he was suspected of even more than he actually has copped to?”
“I could talk to some people,” Sam said.
“Unsolved bank heists in foreign countries would be good,” I said.
“What about I get him implicated in fixing American Idol, too?”
“Whatever it takes,” I said. “I’m going to call Barry and see what we can cook up.”
Ten minutes and fifteen phone numbers later, I reached Barry.
“Michael,” he said, “good to hear from you.” In the background I heard birdsong. Pleasant.
“Sorry to interrupt your vacation,” I said.
“No worries,” he said. “Did you know North Dakota is officially the friendliest state in the country?”
“That’s great,” I said.
“Not the best-looking people,” he said, “but you make concessions when your life is at risk. They also eat everything with a cup of melted butter as a dipping sauce.”
“I need your help,” I said.
“I was afraid of that.”
“Your friend Bruce Grossman might need a new life,” I said. “We’re trying to get him a little insurance.”
“I thought that’s what you nice government people did for a living.”
“I’m not the FDIC,” I said. “And besides, he’s your friend, remember?”
“Right, right,” Barry said. “I’m just used to playing hard to get.”
“Endearing,” I said. “I take it you can handle your business from North Dakota?”
“If Lewis and Clark could, I can,” Barry said. “Did you know that they wintered in North Dakota? True story.”
“That’s great. Here’s what I need: You need to build an identity for Bruce and Zadie. Good stuff. Passports that can get them into somewhere nice with good medical care.”
“I can’t just materialize that,” Barry said. “You realize that?”
“Barry,” I said, “it’s either that or one day Zadie goes for therapy and comes out to some lead- pipe hitters. We’re working our end tonight, but I need to know there’s an out.”
“I can get decent stuff,” Barry said, “but we’re not talking about documents that can get them into Europe. Maybe South America. But even then, it won’t be permanent good.”
This was not good.
“Where are you?” I said.
“A safe location.”
“Specifically, Barry. This is important.”
“Valley City. Sign says it’s the City of Bridges.”
“What are the banks like there?”
“Nice. Filled with money.”
“Old or new?”
Barry paused, figuring out what I was moving toward. “You want me to check the safe-deposit boxes?”
“If you have the chance.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah,” I said, “rent an apartment. A nice one.”
“You’ll be surprised to know that Valley City isn’t exactly brimming with high-end condo complexes.”
“Rent a house, then,” I said. “Something big and near a hospital.”
“Anything else?” Barry asked.
“A bank account,” I said. “Fill it appropriately.”
“This part of your fee?”
“No,” I said, “this is part of you making sure your friend Bruce Grossman and his mother have a way out that does not include summering in Mozambique.”
“You put it like that…” Barry said.
“When can you get this done?”
“I’ll have it in place tonight. How will I know if it’s on?”
“If you don’t hear from me after midnight,” I said, “don’t come back to Miami.”
“I love working with you, Mike,” Barry said and hung up.
18
Even in the face of a natural disaster-like, say, Hurricane Katrina-people still cling to the belief that they alone can stop Mother Nature and, in the process, save their homes. Looked at unemotionally, it seems silly: Your life for wood, drywall, and furniture? But people tend to form bonds with places, to the point that it’s nearly impossible to separate a person from their possessions.
So if you absolutely must get people to leave their homes, you have to make it seem like their possessions are actively causing the problems.
Most people don’t know anything about their homes. Oh, they know the address. They know which bedroom is drafty in the winter, which is broiling in the summer; they know that the microwave takes thirty second to melt butter and ten seconds to warm up pie; they might even know how to turn off their gas in the event of a leak.
What they don’t know, however, is what they cannot see or choose to avoid… which is why I went door-to- door in the cul-de-sac where the Banshees’ weed farm was located to let people know that there was noxious fungus growing underneath their over-mortgaged dream homes. In order to appear to be an absolute authority on the topic, Sam and I rolled up in front of the homes in a white van. A van and a clipboard could get you into the Kremlin at the height of Communism.
“Noxious?” the man who answered the door at the house next door to the Banshees’ said.
“Yup. Yup,” I said. I possessed two things at that moment meant to instill perfect confidence in this fine gentleman: I was holding a clipboard and I had on a denim shirt. I also had a red bandanna in my hand and every few seconds I used it to wipe off my forehead. “And flammable, too.”
“Flammable?” The man was horrified.
“Yeah, seems like it’s one of those funguses that feeds off of water-based paints. You probably been reading about that? Yeah, see, what had happened is that, you know, back further on in the day when people didn’t care so
